Janácek operas are difficult, and perhaps it came as no surprise that the recent production by Opera
North of The Cunning Little Vixen, in Newcastle, was somewhat patchy. There may be a number of
reasons for this…

The plot? A Forester arrives on stage and falls asleep. A frog appears, and consumes a gnat. This
excess of violence disturbs the Little Vixen as she dashes across the stage. The now roused Forester
abducts her: for to become a pet. The second act details her captivity and attempted jailbreaks – a
lunatic dog, birds with over active sex-lives, neurotic hens and a gaggle of psychotic children are
particularly memorable here. Escape, though, the vixen does – however, she gets shot and becomes a
muff.

Perhaps it’s not the plot, but stagecraft? Bronze leaves descended portentously from the ceiling, like
nuclear fall-out, overshadowing forest scenes. Two green wedge-shaped ramp things flanked the
stage looking for all the world like primary school P.E. equipment. Also, the “unique” work of the
Director of Movement, and the misguided enthusiasms of the Director (Annabel Arden) brought about
naff animal costumes, tweed jackets and terrible dresses that pranced across the set limp-wristedly.

Musically this production was strong, though there were caveats. The orchestral accompaniment
created a rich tapestry of colour and sonority, but was flagging towards the opera’s close – leaving you
“flat”. Happily, it was the Forester (Christopher Perves) who brought humanity, warmth and a sense of
humour to his performance and invigorated the opera.

Where a lead from Janácek was taken, the largest problems occurred. His sense of opera is one of
naturalism. Janácek’s music was inflected with Czechoslovakian speech rhythms, and the use of
English – not Czech – is contentious. Although it helps to get certain jokes across, it does change the
rhythms of the music. Also, I couldn’t hear most of the text, as the inherent problems of balance where
left unresolved.

A sharply focused opera shot through with fantasy and lyricism is what The Cunning Little Vixen is - a mix of
Naturalism and Artifice. This dichotomy could also serve to describe its composer’s work: sitting on the cusp
of modernism, idiomatic harmonies of original and rare beauty abound as traces of Romanticism are heard
distantly. This production came close to the spirit of the thing, but for any number of reasons felt awkward, and
ultimately bland.

Douglas Bertram