HENRY PURCELL – Semi-Opera “Dioclesian (The Prophetess, or The History of Dioclesian)” 1690
Libretto by Thomas Betterton
The Queen’s Closet / The Tudor Consort
Music and Ensemble Director – Gordon Lehany
Tudor Consort Director – Michael Stewart
Stage Director – Jacqueline Coats
The Hunter Lounge, Victoria University of Wellington
Saturday. 31st May 2025
In 1985, forty years ago at Wellington’s Erskine College, Victoria University’s Early Music School organised, staged and performed (on period instruments) Henry Purcell’s 1690 “Dioclesian (The Prophetess, or the history of Dioclesian)”. It must have created a sensation at the time, though it took a while for memories of the earlier occasion to be sufficiently “jogged” so that this recent undertaking of the work by the capital’s “The Queen’s Closet” and “The Tudor Consort” ensembles could be properly regarded as a “revival” rather than a “first” for Wellington. In terms of impact and excitement it seemed to add even more lustre to the present occasion!
I well remember writing, in a February 2022 review, of a Queen’s Closet’s production which (to quote) “brought to life a world of musical and dramatic expression we don’t often get to experience in such a vivid and well-rounded way” – this was an enterprising representation of an historic “opera contest” in London in 1703 between four composers, each setting music to the same libretto and one emerging triumphant. The libretto was “The Judgement of Paris” the work of playwright William Congreve (he of “The Way of the World” fame), and of the four composers one John Weldon (1676-1736) emerged the victor by popular vote – though the Queen’s Closet cannily used excerpts from ALL FOUR composers’ efforts, thus giving us a richly-endowed “overview” of the original occasion’s range and scope – a splendid achievement!
As I’d expressed the hope that we would hear more along these lines from the Queen’s Closet, I was delighted to hear of the ensemble’s plans to present one of Henry Purcell’s earliest works for the theatre, his “semi-opera” (not through-sung) “Dioclesian” which bore the full title of “Dioclesian (The Prophetess, or The History of Dioclesian”. I did some “ferreting around” (mostly on-line, though the New Grove Dictionary of Opera was also of some help) and managed to glean some idea of what was in store for us. One of the pleasures I keenly anticipated was the involvement of Jacqueline Coats as the stage director, as I had previously enjoyed her work in other productions – though I was annoyed by not being able to find my copy of the programme for “The Judgement of Paris” to check whether she was involved, as my review didn’t mention her name! – details which come back to bite the reviewer!
I also couldn’t remember having previously been to the “Hunter Lounge” at Wellington’s Victoria University, but it turned out to be an excellent venue for the type of presentation accorded Purcell’s work. As with the “Foxglove Ballroom” location for “The Judgement”, this one seemed to fit the presentation like a glove, and with that all-important aspect of the music “being made in the same space as the audience”, ensuring our direct, cheek-by-jowl contact with both singers and musicians. A definite bonus in this case was the presence of a screen at the rear of the stage onto which was projected various images (all very seventeenth-century comic-book-like which raised numerous chuckles and titillations as the evening progressed)), and gave us some idea of the opera’s progression through the scenes and acts as they were played and done.
I remember feeling at first somewhat perturbed at what seemed to be a lack of a printed programme for audience perusal, something which I remember at “The Judgement” helped “take” me right into every aspect of the presentation, providing a wealth of background information regarding the actual contest, a synopsis of the opera’s plot, a cast list, and the titles of the individual numbers and their composers. Consequently, I knew exactly “where” I was at every step of the way through a work I simply knew very little about at that stage.
Here, at the Hunter Lounge, we were “helped out” by the presence of a narrator, Adam Neilson, who readily engaged our attentions with his wry delineations of the various plot-and-character convolutions, even though the complications of what the Grove Dictionary called the story’s “dramatic absurdities” tended to result in more confusion than elucidation on my part regarding both just “who was who” and “what she/he/they were doing”. At the time I felt a NEED to know just WHAT was happening and WHO was singing – but now, in my present state of post-event contemplation what’s staying with me most strongly is the “esprit de corps” feeling generated by the interplay between singers and musicians under the direction of Gordon Lehany and further emphasised by Jacqueline Coats’s production. Ostensibly a story about a power struggle in ancient Rome, the absurd story-line with its portrayal of the whims and passions, cupidities and cruelties of people vying for the power that leadership brings, and their infliction of the same upon steadfastedly struggling humanity in general seemed to ironically mirror similarly ego-driven, pathologically unempathetic tyrants self-fashioned as rulers all around today’s world, and with the “prophetess” as much a schemer and manipulator as those whose fate she attempts to sway.
Whatever Purcell himself thought of the story, his efforts on its behalf brought him success, and the approval of no less a figure than John Dryden (for whose libretto he was to write the music for another opera, “King Arthur”). So, without a programme to hand I simply “went with” the presentation as best I could, and though detail wasn’t always clear to me as to what was exactly happening, the verve and commitment of the singing and playing never let my interest go elsewhere. I would have liked to have known at the time who the singers were (some of the faces I knew, but certainly not all of the names) and precisely what their characters were for the sake of the story-line. (Being one of the world’s least computer-savvy individuals, I’ve completely failed to notice the Queen’s Closet’s “past performances” page when first writing this review, and am thus posting the link accordingly – https://thequeenscloset.net/may-june-2025/! ) However, Purcell’s music ultimately triumphed “on the night”, and there were many delights along the music’s way – without going through the whole work, item by item, then, I have these highlights of mine to offer……
First, the players (whom I’m able to name, thanks to their instruments!) – with their bracing sounds the Queen’s Closet players always delight, and this evening’s performance was no exception. The ear picked up on and relished the tanginess of the different timbres, as well as the excitement of the sudden surges of momentum – such as the Gigue-like energies unleashed during the Overture proper’s solemnities (No. 3) before the voices come in, and then, the brass (Chris Woolley and Andrew Weir) and timpani (Ben Whitton) vigorously supporting the singer’s “Come, show your instruments of war”. There was gaiety and charm aplenty from the oboes (Sharon Lehany, Rebecca Grimwood and Luka Reardon) and bassoon (Craig Branfield) supporting the alto voice at “let the soldiers rejoice”, and more festivity at “To Mars let ’em raise” , making a beautiful contrast of feeling with the recorders (Gordon Lehany and Luka Reardon) and joining the cellos (Jane Young and Tomos Christie) in accompanying “Since the toils”. The “Dance of the Furies” was amusingly described in one review I read of a performance elsewhere as “Dance of the Mildly Irritated”, though the strings here (Gordon Lehany, Henry Nicholson, Antonia Grant and Sara Kádas, violins and Miru Shimaoka, viola,) managed with the cellos to generate a suitable amount of “furious buzz” with their figurations! More charm, this time of a melancholic sort, came from the oboes, bassoon, ‘cello, guitar (Peter Maunder) and harpsichord (Michael Stewart) in their instrumental reprises between the tenor’s wistful “What shall I do?” verses, a mood that was then “whisked away” by the nimbly animated “Butterfly Dance”, the dancers equipped with delightfully lepidopteral effigies on the ends of sticks, wings flitting energetically to the strings-and-winds-led music.
Apart from a slight purple patch during the Act IV chorus “Let all rehearse” (ironically apt at that point!) the brass let fly with spiritedly and well-rounded fanfares as required, both martial and celebratory (with Gordon Lehany picking up a trumpet at one point and sounding a fanfare solo) – while as the other end of the expressive spectrum was the grace and charm of the Act V country dance. More delightful contrast was generously provided by the lusty Bacchanals, strings and winds propelling the dance forwards with gusto. Towards the end, as the vocal trio sings “Triumph Victorious Love” in honour of amatory order being justly restored between the opera’s principals, the orchestral playing struts its stuff with the soloists, then with a reprise of “Let all rehearse in lofty verse” the full ensemble joins with the singers to reinforce the lovers’ happiness in the most resplendent and appropriately brilliant-sounding way!
And then, there were the voices! – buoyed along by the instrumentalists’ marvellous accompaniments, the Tudor Consort singers certainly gave their all in both a vocal and theatrical sense, whether solo, in duo or trio, or as an interactively-detailed chorus, and making the most of their opportunities as they arose. I found it difficult, in the heat of the dramatic action’s cut-and-thrust, to properly and fairly ascribe which character did or sang what, and so am reluctant to attempt to “match up” the names – as, in Sullivan’s “The Mikado”, the Lord High Executioner KoKo famously sings when listing his victims for execution – “The task of filling up the blanks I’d rather leave to YOU!” – but these were the singers: sopranos, Chelsea Whitfield, Genevieve Gates-Panneton, and Erin King; altos, Alexander Granville, Andrea Cochrane and Kassandra Wang; tenors, Herbert Zielinski, John Beaglehole and Philip Roderick; and basses Joshua Jamieson, Keith Small, Mark Bobb and Thomas Whaley.
I couldn’t fault the choruses or the ensemble numbers in terms of their vocal characterisations and general stage-presence concerted utterances such as in “Praise the Thund’ring Jove”, “Let all Mankind the pleasure share” and the bolstering of the solo “To Mars let ‘em raise”, which all fell upon our ears with appropriate alacrity! Especially lovely was the 4-part “Let the Priests with Processions”, and later, in Act Five came the ear-catching, beautifully-pointed and somewhat canonic chorus “Begone, importunate reason” (for me, a highlight!). The smaller ensembles, trios and duos, brought out the singers’ theatricality to entertainingly risible degrees, while the various solos were taken in ways that integrated their characters satisfyingly into the musical flow of the work, some in a “larger-than-life” manner , which contrasted well with other, more thoughtful and circumspect portrayals.
All of this was refracted through the keenly-modulated stage direction of Jacqueline Coats, and the typically thorough and expertly crafted drilling of the voices by Michael Stewart, the Tudor Consort’s director. However, to the Queen’s Closet director Gordon Lehany goes the credit for instigating and overseeing the production’s excellent musical cohesiveness and period-style efficacy – everything suitably proportioned, flavoursome and communicative – an insightful and enjoyable amalgam of scholarship and insightful reinterpretation.