I always struggle to summarise such spectacular events as those witnessed last night with the English National Opera. This was not just opera on offer, no. This was dancing, narration, acting, clever stage play, digital sound, provoking lighting and artwork. What was to mark the close of a five month collaboration with the renowned US director and 2014 Polar Music Prize winner Peter Sellars, his completion of Henry Purcell’s final work is perhaps one of the most imaginative and thought provoking productions I have ever witnessed. I was fortunate enough to be present at the start of his residency when the season opened with Adams’s The Gospel According to the Other Mary, the retelling of the history of men through the eyes of a female, so it seemed fitting that he close full-loop with The Indian Queen.

Purcell died during the period of The Indian Queen’s composition, leaving a 45-minute production; this was, however, far from what was offered. In an interview with Adrian Mourby, Sellars talks about the need for an expansion of the work. Speaking of the original text by John Dryden, Sellars calls it a ‘bizarre fantasy’ and thus expands the short run time into a mighty 3hrs 30. The original is bulked out by some of Purcell’s greatest hymns and theatre songs, along with texts from Rosario Aguilar’s The Lost Chronicles of Terra Firma, setting out the confrontation experienced between the Spanish and Mayans of the New World. Upon seeing the run time, I must admit to feeling a certain degree of scepticism that such intensity could be sustained for that long; but by the end I found myself longing for an eternal postlude. I could easily have sat engrossed for many more hours just because of the sheer spectacle and emotional power that was being conveyed to the audience. I knew I was not alone in thinking this. My fellow listeners were cheering and shouting ‘bravo’ by the interval because they had been held in such a vulnerable and malleable position — something I had not witnessed before at any production.

For those among us who might think it sacrilegious to change a composer’s work, there are clearly valid arguments on both sides. I spent many years thinking that works should be presented in their period form, warts and all (I recall being at a performance of The Art of Fugue where the performer stopped mid-phrase where Bach had stopped writing and just walked off stage, and found it one of the most compelling concert performances). This performance has changed my view. When something is completed with such finesse and taste, I see how there can be a ‘greater good’ in presenting audiences with a newly conceived medium. Perhaps such flexibility could be extended to other untouched incomplete works if it engages more with modern audiences. This composition is not an incomplete opera by Purcell; this is a shrine to his hard, advancing work sprawling his whole life, a shrine to all art forms in themselves and a collaborative future. Perhaps akin to the V4 project with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment — modern dance accompanying Vivaldi’s Four Seasons – it tests the boundaries of how much beauty an audience can take in one evening through various forms, and then goes further still.

This performance featured numerous debuts that are worth a mention. On her final year of the artist diploma at The Julliard School, New York, is soprano Julia Bullock who played Teculihuatzin, with beautifully raspy low notes and a crystal clear mid-range. Don Pedro de Alvardo was sung by Noah Stewart, also making his debut, with a perfectly resonant voice filling the corners of the hall with exacting and clear diction. Perhaps the stars of the show though, as with The Other Mary, were the countertenors. Both making their ENO debuts were South Korean Vince Yi (playing Hunahpú) along with American Anthony Roth Costanzo (playing Ixbalanqué). They both caught the attention of the audience, perhaps for the reason that we rarely hear countertenors, or, better, for the fact that their voice control was second to none. Such clarity and pure notes flowed from them in their duet, their voices merging into a molten stream of bliss – they really were the crown jewel of the performance, topping off what was already beyond expectations.

The ENO chorus held their part well, not only with some baroque dancing, but also with a variety of hymns set by Purcell. There were a few weak male entries, but this was made up for with some moments of absolute sublimity, most notably the unaccompanied chorus ‘Remember not, Lord, our offences’ to open Act III. Another magical moment was when they suddenly appeared in the royal box, and opposite, giving a perfect stereo image.

Amongst the spectacle on offer was the imaginative and alternative set, designed by Chicano painter Glugio Nicandro (better known as ‘Gronk’). With a minimal set of suspended panels and backdrops, the abstract colourful splashings and hieroglyphs took inspiration from Mayan art and helped firmly set the backdrop to the storyline. The end of Act II (the interval), had the audience in a turbulence of suspension as a red light evanesced, holding all of us vulnerably in the production’s hands for a magical twenty seconds of startling silence, where not even the usual theatre cougher interrupted. Along with the set, the minimal and simplistic lighting ensured a focus on the drama — a true example of less is more. Much to my surprise was the use of rainforest noises as a soundscape for the narrator (actress Maritxell Carrero), adding to the realism, or what people in the film industry may refer to as the ‘audio-visual’ contract (the idea that we become so engrossed in what we see and hear, that we easily forget we are an external witness to the onstage drama). This is perhaps an area that opera in the past has not been able to explore, but with modern technology and a perfect balance between various theatre elements, a production can easily achieve the ‘goldilocks’ zone of engagement where the audience can become overwhelmed and sucked into the onstage environment. Not only does this give a heightened sense of attention and concentration, but also a degree of disorientation when the house lights go up, realising we’re back to reality and the modern world – perhaps most noticeable at the end of cinema experiences.

The orchestra was a fine ensemble of period instruments under the watchful eye and control of baroque specialist, Laurence Cummings. The continuo parts were played beautifully, the gamba and theorbo parts in particular adding an air of baroque luxury for us period fantasists. It is no surprise that the orchestra had to be amplified in such a large setting, though it did often confuse the more attentive listeners when the harpsichord sounded from above as opposed to the instrument they were looking at — mediocre issues I think you’ll agree. The whole production really was quite faultless, a rare thing that does not come around too often. It is bound to be a footing for where future performances, and artistic directors such as Sellars, may take us. Wherever that may be – in the eighteenth century or beyond – I look forward to it. Words do not adequately express what was felt during this performance, for I have never witnessed such a strong welding between all of the arts. If this is what you are seeking then your answer is here, and I would strongly urge you to catch one of the remaining performances.  

The Indian Queen runs for eight performances at the London Coliseum from 26th February until 14th March 2015.