I was quite taken aback to realise that it had been eight years since I had last visited the town of Buxton.
The last time that I had sat in the Opera House was for English Touring Opera's performance of Pelléas et Mélisande in October 2015. A few months before that, I had been there for the Festival to see, amongst other things, Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor.
The hotel I had booked into was situated right on the Broad Walk that runs alongside the Pavilion Gardens right in the town centre. It was an easy walk to anywhere I might be wanting to go to. On that first afternoon, the whole area was bathed in sunshine but the River Wye, which runs through the park, was a raging torrent from all of the rain so far this month. In previous years, I can recall it being the merest lacklustre dribble by comparison.
The operatic treat of my short trip away was Bellini's La sonnambula and I enjoyed piece much more than I was anticipating. It was played as a pastoral tragi-comedy so there were some laughs but also genuine emotions.
This was in contrast to the production I saw at Covent Garden back in 2002 set in a luxury alpine spa and hotel - a location which really removed any sense of narrative from the piece.
Although, at the time, I really enjoyed Juan Diego Flórez's singing, after seeing this production, I can see now that he had been given no credible emotional direction and so the character of Elvino came across as a cypher as a consequence.
The director had chosen a late 50s/early 60s setting so the sexual mores were readily understandable. The down side however was that the automatic power and authority of Rodolfo as a member of the land-owning aristocracy was less believable.
The cast were all young and the chorus still students but here were still good voices for the principals. Ziyi Dai (Amina) is a find: she has all of the notes without resorting to a squeaky top. Ellie Neate (Lisa) was a nicely pert soubrette. She was called on to signal her availability to Rodolfo by dropping her scarlet panties to the floor. She really was no better than she should be. Luckily, staff were on hand with defibrillators for the needy. Nico Darmanin (Elvino) was a sturdy tenor but gave us one ringing top note. I am very glad I went.
One thing I should mention was the age of the audience. As I sat down in the stalls, I felt that was still one of the youngest people there by a good twenty years. Yes, there were a few student types but otherwise it was very blue rinse - even among the men.
The following morning gave further evidence. There were very few people around and no sense of festival hustle and bustle. I wonder if the whole economic model has changed post pandemic with an ageing audience and even fewer people staying and/or engaging with the township. That doesn't bode well for a decade's time.
The major improvement to the town centre was that, at last, the spa, baths and hotel complex has been refurbished and has re-opened. I never thought that it was ever going to be finished. I think I have witnessed as least two stalled attempts at renovation over the years.
It looks quite fine: I'm tempted to do a Mary Queen of Scots and come for a hot-water spa cure sometime.
My other reason for wanting to visit the Festival this year was Paul Lewis. He gave the first two of four recitals of Schubert's later Piano Sonatas. The final two are planned to be given in the summer of 2024.
Remembering the series of Schubert recitals that Paul Lewis gave over a decade ago in Liverpool, I knew that I had to attend these.
It was magnificent music making. The Piano Sonatas No15 in C Reliquie, No16 in A minor and No17 in D Gasteiner Sonate (all composed in the first half of 1825, just three years before Schubert's death) were the highlights for me. Ambiguous harmonies, off-beat accents, crunchingly angry chords, a lyricism shot through with tenderness and regret and the idea that each movement is a journey, an exploration.
This was all just two years after the first identifiable onset of the syphilis which cause his death in his early thirties. It's difficult not to see how that sense of mortality might have infused these compositions.
I rested and caught my breath with a pint of Shire Horse in The Old Club House. Then, rush hour dwindling, I drove home via the Manchester Airport Eastern Link Road of whose existence I was totally ignorant until Miss Google showed me its delights on my outward journey.
Tucked at the back of the Festival programme, I found an announcement of next year's presentations which included Verdi's Ernani and Paul Lewis playing Schubert's last four Piano Sonatas. I should like to return for those.