The Turn of the Screw, by Benjamin Britten

Welsh National Opera, Apollo, Thu 29th June 2000

A young governess in the early part of the nineteenth century is secluded in a country house with two orphan children and the express injunction not to disturb their guardian in London. Gradually she becomes aware that all is not well with her charges, a suspicion confirmed when she starts catching glimpses of what the children are seeing: a manservant of abominable memory who used to work at the hall. The housekeeper informs her he has been dead for some time. The ensuing battle for possession of the children between the governess and the forces of evil is crystallised in exquisite suspense by layers of Britten's unearthly music: music both dramatic and ambiguous.

Henry James' chiller rises from the ranks of the delightfully horrible ghost stories of the era (Le Fanu, M. R. James). It is fascinating in its psychological uncertainty - are the ghosts real or is the governess mad, forcing her paranoid visions onto the unwilling children? Running through the plot is the continuous mystery of what happened before, when the manservant Peter Quint was alive. We know he seduced the former governess, who, betrayed, died euphemistically of 'a broken heart', but what happened to the children? Now the two ghosts seek to possess each other again through the children's bodies, but Quint, through the little boy, is on the lookout for new conquests, making the current governess's relationship with little Miles an uneasy one.

Here the ghosts were more than usually physical: Quint (Paul Nilon) especially, coming at times right out of the shadows. The set design made wonderful use of light and shadow: the stage was bare for much of the time except for central platform that slowly raised and lowered and rocked itself, creating with the light patterns not only different physical scenes but an extraordinary dreamlike quality for the whole production. The music was sensitively performed with the professional excellence one would expect from this company. Gregory Monk as a very young Miles didn't quite have the same uncanny self-possession or the piercing clarity of voice as some other singers I have seen, but Yvette Bonner as Flora was something special, with a gloriously strong and pure lower range. The acting all round was very good and entirely credible, the whole production pacy and haunting. A terrifying story. It's not an opera you would want to watch alone - luckily, you're unlikely ever to have to.

Miranda Rose, 29 / 6 / 00