13895 Wagner News 174 - Wagner Society of England

With Daland’s return and the arrival of the Dutchman, the action again moves from
reality to Senta’s fantasy. Yet even now, united with her dream hero, she cannot relate to
him: their great duet is more like two solos. At the end, Daland takes the Dutchman away,
and Senta remains in a pool of light on an otherwise darkened stage. During the interlude,
a man dressed like the Dutchman approaches her and places a veil upon her head, a
bouquet in her hand and a ring upon her finger – then suddenly the lights go up, and Senta
finds herself in the middle of a raucous, pirate-themed fancy dress party, once again the
butt of everyone’s mockery.
She stumbles among them like a
sleepwalker, terrified, unable to
defend herself, as the mood
becomes increasingly dark and
ugly until the men, led by the
Steersman, are at the point of
gang-raping her when they are
stopped by the voices of the
Dutchman’s crew (if only ENO
had been able to hire singers for
the offstage chorus – the
recorded sound was perfectly
terrible). Senta is ecstatic that
her lover has saved her, only to
come down to earth with a jolt as Erik challenges her decision to marry the Dutchman.
Breathtakingly, fantasy and reality collide as the Dutchman intervenes: Senta can see and
hear him, but the bewildered Erik cannot (I was reminded of Hamlet – “That you do bend
your eye on vacancy and with the incorporeal air do hold discourse”), and he desperately
holds her back as she tries to approach someone, or something, that he cannot see.
As the others return, the Dutchman is standing well downstage, hemmed by
chorus members and nowhere near any exit which could take him back to his ship. Senta
rushes to embrace him, and he disappears by trapdoor, so quickly that one questions
whether he was ever there at all – another astonishing theatrical effect. The wretched girl
finds herself embracing nothing. Her beloved fantasy world has gone forever, and she is
left only with a reality too horrible for her to endure. There is only one escape. At the
moment that the orchestra is telling us of redemption, there is nothing left to redeem,
because the Dutchman never existed, and Senta kills herself with a broken beer bottle left
over from the ghastly party. Everyone flees in horror, except for Daland, who is left
mourning over her. It is the crowning irony that he can only some show emotion for the
daughter who so needed his love, after she is dead.
Kent’s production focuses upon Senta, both as child and woman. Aoife Checkland
and Evie Grattan shared the role of Senta the child: my programme did not indicate which
performed on the night I saw it, but whichever it was, she showed a command of the stage
far beyond her years. Orla Boylan, the adult Senta, threw herself unflinchingly into
everything the production demanded of her and played the ecstatic, deluded creature with
a wild conviction which swept the audience along with her all the way. It was worrying
that the passionate intensity of her portrayal occasionally made her creamily beautiful
soprano sound strained, which was appropriate for the character, but could be vocally
damaging in the long term.
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