AMADEUS. To 8 December.
Sheffield.
AMADEUS
by Peter Shaffer.
Crucible Theatre To 8 December 2007.
Mon-Sat 7.30pm Mat Wed & Sat 2.30pm.
Captioned 27 Nov.
Post-show discussion 29 Nov.
Runs 2hr 50min One interval.
TICKETS: 0114 249 6000.
www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 23 November.
Art, morality and bad behaviour in a swirling stage display.
Playwright Peter Shaffer plays with literal and metaphorical meanings in this drama, so avoiding a position on the rumour that long-lived, middling-quality composer Antonio Salieri literally poisoned musical genius Mozart, who died aged 36 in 1791, Meanwhile Shaffer develops an argument about artistic creation and the ‘meaning’ of success.
Salieri, long-established court composer, seems Mozart’s friend but secretly plots his ruin. Despite his own music’s Europe-wide success, Salieri knows Mozart has a genius he’ll never possess. Alas, Nikolai Foster’s Sheffield revival is too subdued at the moment this is shown, when Mozart transforms an innocuous Salieri march into a new, memorable tune.
Salieri’s job is made easier by Mozart’s giggly scatological manner, mocking the older man’s vow of moral goodness. Foster matches Salieri’s impassioned memories, through which the story’s told, with the theatrical intensity of designer Colin Richmond’s forbidding space, backed by massive double-doors, curling smoke and Guy Hoare’s moody lighting, repeatedly picking out characters or spilling daylight through a single high window.
Despite Gerard Murphy’s forcefully-voiced Salieri, a sweet-toothed, court-regalia’d amphibian, swimming mercilessly into Mozart’s waters, uncomfortably trying to adopt his unconscious rival’s sexual predations (“getting it up” is Mozart’s metaphor for musical virility), the production makes this Mozart’s play.
It’s the cruel truth of genius. Mozart may be worth less, even worthless, but he’s the instrument of God, writing music Salieri never could. And with none of the struggling revisions of others – his manuscripts show barely a blot (as Shakespeare, allegedly, wrote his works).
Bryan Dick responds finely to this prominence, emphasising Mozart’s personal limitations co-exist with a passion for music as the central point of creation, and for the future of the art. An initially diminutive figure, his impulsive movements contrast the grave courtly elders. Even his boasting becomes a standard-bearing for composition. Dick ensures God’s chosen instrument remains a human individual.
As his wife, Nichola Burley reinforces his humanity in her sparkily defiant affection. And Foster finally transforms the initial present-day declarations of disbelief in Salieri’s poisoning claim into the wind of rumour, making the point that disbelief in the old man’s admission is his ultimate punishment.
Constanze Weber: Nichola Burley.
Baron Gottfried van Swieten: Mike Burnside.
Salieri’s Valet: Robert Calvert.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Bryan Dick.
Count Franz Orsini-Rosenberg: Russell Dixon.
Venticello I: Steven Duffy.
Count Johann Kilian von Strack: Robert East.
Emperor Joseph II: Nigel Hastings.
Venticello II: Mark Hilton.
Salieri’s Cook/Kapellmeister Bonno: Timothy Kightley
Antonio Salieri: Gerard Murphy.
Katherina Cavalieri: Vivien Reid.
Valets: Nicky Campbell, Harry Keaton, Dean Peachy, Simon Watt.
Teresa Salieri: Sue Casson.
Opera Ladies: Ray Ashmore, Angela Platts.
Director: Nikolai Foster.
Designer: Colin Richmond.
Lighting: Guy Hoare.
Sound: Mike Walker.
Musical Adviser: David Shrubsole.
Movement: Gary Lloyd.
Voice coach: Margaret McDonald.
Assistant director: Vivien Reid.
2007-11-25 23:44:24