Handel's Saul, Glyndebourne review: 'insistently zestful'

When I interviewed Barrie Kosky about his new production of Handel’s Saul at Glyndebourne, he assured me there would be “nothing offensive, nothing provocative and outrageous.” I suspected his tongue was half in his cheek and, though it is neither offensive nor outrageous, Kosky’s version was certainly provocative—sometimes successfully so, and sometimes not.

Saul’s rivalry with David is one of the most compelling stories in Scripture. David slays Goliath and becomes the toast of Israel; the king, Saul, grows jealous of the boy-wonder and schemes to destroy him. Handel’s dramatic oratorio from 1739, with words by Charles Jennings, is less about religious destiny than family conflict. Here Kosky goes further: there is very little of the sacred about this production, and few Biblical resonances. Rather, we are in a weird world, in which Saul (Christopher Purves) is the villainous monarch, his courtiers gorge themselves on a Heston Blumenthal-style baroque feast, and David (Iestyn Davies) is troubled at his own giant-slaying powers.

If you thought that oratorios were beautiful to listen to but dull to watch, Kosky will make you think again. The production is insistently zestful. Choreographer Otto Pichler’s well-trained troupe dance with great energy and wit, though at times I was sceptical as to how well their moves fitted Handel’s music. The Glyndebourne chorus was on thrilling form: their singing was compelling in the serious bits—the famous funeral march towards the end, especially—and they were clearly enjoying themselves during the lighter moments in the first act, when they are indulging themselves at the feast.

Iestyn Davies’s enchanting counter-tenor voice set him apart from the rest of the singers, as did his Hamlet-like introspection. Sometimes it seemed like he was more observer than participant in the action. In contrast, Christopher Purves as Saul was hyperactively evil, running round the stage before his meeting with the witch of Endor in a style familiar from Kosky's 2011 Castor and Pollux at ENO. In a surreal scene, Purves’s Saul sucks the plastic teats of the witch (played by John Graham-Hall) and gets covered in breast milk, which presumably symbolises the nourishing knowledge of the future, though this wasn't exactly made obvious.

At such moments, the cartoon-like presentation of the characters undermined the dramatic tension. As the scholar and translator Robert Alter says, “Saul is the closest approximation of a tragic hero in the Hebrew Bible.” Despite Purves’s best efforts, his Saul did not approach Lear-like levels of profound despair.

Still there were musical and visual coups aplenty to keep this Glyndebourne audience happy. At the start of the second half, the curtain opened to a stage filled with candles. Lucy Crowe, playing Saul’s daughter Mehrab, lay among the warm light singing her aria exquisitely. It was a rare moment of perfect stillness and all the more effective for it.

Saul runs at Glyndebourne until 29th August. Click here to book

On 20th August, Prospect is hosting a panel discussion before Saul entitled Taking on the Bible. Click here for details