In the Manichaean world of opera, it’s often possible to tell the virtuous and villainous apart by their costumes alone. But Innocence exists in a far murkier world. This supremely contemporary opera centres around a wedding that is doomed by the bridegroom’s secret – his brother perpetrated a mass school shooting ten years earlier. Switching between languages and timelines, the libretto provides a breadcrumb of juicy details that keeps the audience on the edges of their seats through five uninterrupted acts.
The score is tense throughout, doom-laden chords and shimmering strings that erupt into squalls of noise enhancing the sense of creeping dread. This focus on texture over tune is mirrored by the liberal use of spoken dialogue and sprechgesang. When the performers do sing, Lucy Shelton’s teacher drags forth guttural howls from deep inside her frame and Erika Hammarberg’s Markéta is a ghostly presence whose Finno-Ugric style vocals have a haunting, bell-like quality.
But even the finest performers take second billing to the two-storey set. Like the libretto, which examines the motivations of everyone involved and allows us to see this tragedy from many perspectives, the set shows the action from multiple angles. Revolving almost constantly throughout the performance, it transforms regularly from a wedding venue to a high school. At times the two settings are even portrayed simultaneously, allowing a student’s anxiously tapped leg to be echoed by a waitress polishing cutlery and a chef whisking. It’s just one of many memorable details in this exquisitely realised performance.
Innocence, Festival Theatre, until 5 March