The Merchant of Venice, opera review: Strong performances and ample humour

Modern Shakespeare operas are always problematic: the original hangs too heavy over them. André Tchaikowsky’s The Merchant of Venice is no exception.

A Polish Jew, Tchaikowsky suffered as a child under the Nazis. The Merchant was his only opera, its central theme clearly resonating with his own experience. English National Opera rejected it in 1982 (Tchaikowsky died shortly afterwards, aged 46), but in 2013 Keith Warner staged its premiere in Austria. Last year that production reached Welsh National Opera, which now brings it to London for two performances.

Tchaikowsky found ample humour in the play; Warner broadens it still further, to good effect in Acts Two and Three, but at the risk of turning the show into burlesque.

As often happens, the orchestra gets the best lines: a cod Renaissance interlude, a pile-driving Act Three prelude that would suit a 1950s Hollywood thriller.

For much of the time, though, John O’Brien’s text is wordy, allowing Tchaikowsky little space to impose character on the vocal lines. Yet there are strong performances. The decision to cast black singers – Lester Lynch and Lauren Michelle – as Shylock and his daughter Jessica pays dividends, doubling up on prejudice and stereotype.

Tonight, Royal Opera House; roh.org.uk