<\/p>\n
H<\/span>andel was at the top of his game when he composed Ariodante, pushing gently at the boundaries of operatic convention, and writing some of his most captivating music. It had its premiere in 1735 at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, where the Royal Opera<\/a> House now stands. Then it was positively demanded that composers and librettists magic up a happy ending from even the most tragic story, sending audiences away uplifted, and Handel duly delivered. However, audiences for the Royal Opera\u2019s new production \u2013 surprisingly, its first since that premiere, unless you count a streamed concert during lockdown \u2013 might come away with more contradictory feelings.<\/p>\n The director Jetske Mijnssen<\/a>, making her Covent Garden debut, is not convinced by that forced happy ending \u2013 which, after her staging of Wagner\u2019s Parsifal at Glyndebourne<\/a> this summer, won\u2019t come as a big surprise. Like the latter piece, here again is a dysfunctional royal family. We\u2019re in the modern palace of a besuited, ailing king; the five children playing at weddings around the dining table during the overture reappear as adults, becoming his two daughters and their three suitors.<\/p>\n Spoilt princess Ginevra, who throws designer dresses (courtesy of costume designer Uta Meenen) around for her sister Dalinda to pick up, initially seems to deserve brattish Polinesso rather than playful, earnest Ariodante. But they all have some growing up to do. By the end, when Ariodante is singing his joyful final aria while comforting his traumatised brother, it feels as though Mijnssen is making a dramatic point at the music\u2019s expense, stretching the disjunct between drama and music just too far.<\/p>\n