"Beggar's Opera": a stillborn rebirth

CONCERT REVIEW: "The Beggar's Opera: Reborn"

It's a perfect example of the "it-sounds-perfect-on-paper" syndrome: a slew of first rate rock musicians - including Irish singers and sisters Rachel and Becky Unthank, Portishead guitarist Adrian Utley, and Goldfrapp bassist Charlie Jones - all under the direction of internationally-known conductor Charles Hazlewood, whose goal - in an exclusive, one-night only concert - was to reinterpret John Gay's classic "Beggar's Opera" and to answer the question of whether the 18th century tunes which make up the work can be presented in such a way that they could have been written in this generation - to "give them back some teeth," in Hazlewood's words. Yet, by the end of the evening, the only question which remained was how, with such a novel idea and a grand congregation of talent, the whole thing could turn out to be so dreadfully and intolerably dull.

Gay's opera was the subject of pointed controversy when it was first performed in London in 1728. It presented a rather crude and unflinching portrait of the city, its characters complete with thieves, prostitutes, and corrupt upperclassmen. And rather than compose original music for the opera, Gay instead set new lyrics to already well-known tunes: folk songs and airs of the street, church hymns, and - in some cases - the as-believed untouchable music of other composers, such as George Fredrick Handel and Henry Purcell. Despite the storm that the opera created by its content, it was a unprecedented success, setting the record for the longest theatrical run at the time of its premiere; this was thanks to the fact that the general public responded not only to its moral - that the rich were every bit as corrupt as the poor, but avoided punishment due to their social status - but also the music that Gay used: songs that were as every bit familiar to them as their own family. But things have, of course, changed over the past 300 years, and, as Hazlewood pointed out at the beginning of the show, these songs which Gay used to great success in the 1700s are totally unfamiliar to the majority of today's population. So it would make sense that the time is ripe for a grand reinvention, and it would seem that Hazlewood had assembled all the correct pieces for Monday's concert.

But where the show should have been thrilling and innovative, it was instead head-scratching and - more often - frustratingly boring. Despite the vast contribution from all ends of the musical spectrum - Hazlewood (who played organ) comes from a classical background, the Unthank sisters combine modern sensibilities with traditional Irish songs, Portishead pioneered a dark, film-noir inspired sound which was later dubbed "trip-hop," and Goldfrapp combine glam rock and synthpop into their electronic, highly dancable songs - and despite the fact that the whole expenditure came across more like a jam session than anything scripted, none of the musicians' backgrounds shone through. The songs which the group performed - oddly enough for tunes which were originally jigs - were instead all almost dirge-like in quality and sound: ambience without the gorgeous harmonies, post-rock without the rock. The lack of diversity in sound was particularly perplexing in the context of today's musical era, one which has been marked by increased experimentation and in which arguments and discussions occur tenfold about the ever-increasing number of genres - meaning that there could be endless musical directions to peruse for a project such as this. Yet, nearly every song began with a drone, tempo rarely rose above 60 beats a minute, and instruments filtered in one by one, hesitantly, rarely rising to take the lead. It didn't seem to be lack of confidence on the musicians' part, but rather lack of interest: with the exception of Hazlewood, nearly everyone on stage looked as bored as the audience. The Unthanks and baritone Tim Dickinson - all of whom are talented singers - did what they could with the vocal parts, but too often the melodies demanded far more of them than they were able to offer; it didn't help that far too little time was devoted to the vocal sections, and far too much attention was given to meandering, uninventive instrumental sections which provided no interesting musical substance and left the vocalists nothing to do except sway back and forth in time with the music. To make things worse, the few times that the rhythm did pick up slightly - the closer "Greensleeves" being by far the worst offender - the concert turned into an unqualified mess, with half-baked ideas, multiple time signatures, and the sloppy, obnoxious use of a vocal looper all tumbling over each other without reason or sense: the musical equivalent of a Jackson Pollack painting, only without the contrast and the vibrance of the colors. The highlights of the evening were undoubtedly the performances of a period trio - soprano, cello, and lute - who supplied the original versions of the numbers before the larger group reworked them; but they, too, were wasted, as they were only utilized for five or six (out of the twenty-odd) songs which were performed, and never once were given the opportunity to join in with the reworkings.

The music was poor enough on its own, but it was reduced to satirical levels by everything surrounding it: Hazlewood's attempt at commentary and plot synopsis between the songs was fumbled and confusing, and the sound levels were ridiculously skewered and uneven. But the worst element were the three large screens hanging behind the performers, which alternated back and forth between sloppy close ups of the performers and crude, slapdash photos which Hazlewood attempted to describe as "modern urban London" in comparison to the London of Gay's day. But the pictures - a man in a purple dress climbing over a barrier, a person passed out on the street by a pile of his own vomit, a man with his head in a urinal - were more distracting - not to mention offensive - than anything, and were hardly the London that Gay would have been familiar with.

Hazlewood began the show by saying that the performance had been pulled together over a space of four days. It's true that great recordings have been made out of jam sessions - Miles Davis' Kind Of Blue and Talk Talk's Laughing Stock being the two standout examples - and bands such as the Dave Matthews Band and the Grateful Dead have made their name as jam bands. But all of these groups have been marked by at least one of two things: either a brilliant intersection of ideas and creativity, or a great reliance on energy. Monday's concert had neither of these: the performers were so distant from each other - both musically and personally - that they had no chemistry, no common ground to work on, and the songs were so unrelentingly downtempo that there was nothing compelling about them. In the end, "The Beggar's Opera: Reborn" became the greatest of tragedies: the type of event based on such a great idea that it could have been revolutionary. Instead, its execution was just that: a death sentence.

Concert score: 7