Jenůfa, Royal Opera review - electrifying details undermined by dead space

This was always going to be Jakub Hrůša’s night, his first at the Royal Opera since performances of Wagner’s Lohengrin won him the role of Antonio Pappano’s successor as Music Director, which he takes up at the beginning in the 2025/6 season.

From the opening rattle of Janáček's rural mill-wheel – the xylophone used in the first production apparently imported from Czechia, such is his sense of detail – via the strings which flame around the Kostelnička’s terrifying decision to give her stepdaughter a better life by drowning the girl’s baby, to the affirmative brass of the great final scene, the impact he gets from the house orchestra is seared on the memory. The composer's first great score has its problems in a not always clear orchestration – later he went for extremes, which pose different difficulties yet seem fully intentional – but Hrůša makes everything work; you hear more than you could possibly hope from any other conductor. What undermines the achievement, and the commitment of his fine cast, is the big open space of Michael Levine’s set for Claus Guth’s pointedly non-realistic replacement of village life with inhuman machinery, swallowing up some of the intensity. Its good points seemed to outweigh the bad first time around. But the voice of Corinne Winters (pictured above with Nicky Spence's Laca) is smaller and less variously coloured than that of her predecessor Asmik Grigorian – or for that matter of another singer whom Hrůša knows well, Jennifer Davis, in last year’s ENO revival – and it disappears at times. Her dramatic achievement as a Jenůfa who’s feisty and often serious from the start, though, is as fine as theirs, within the confines of what Guth allows her to do – revival director Oliver Platt tries to ensure the singers are front of stage as much as possible – and she fills every line with meaning. I have it on the best authority that her Czech is perfect: "every single word delivered with perfection intention," apparently.

Karita Mattila’s Kostelnička, as before, rises to the anguished decisions of Act Two (for me, it's a shame we don't get her Act One explanation of the past life which led to her moratorium on a potentially disastrous marriage. The monologue delays the momentum, and - again, I'm told on the best authority, "Janáček even glued the pages of the aria so firmly that no-one could ever find it again". They did, and it's used regularly, but against the composer's wishes). We feel her desperation in front of the feckless Števa – a ringing, handsome characterisation by the ever more impressive Thomas Atkins (pictured below with Winters) – and the horror of what she feels she has to do to ensure Jenůfa a marriage with a better man, albeit one who scarred the girl for life, Laca (Nicky Spence, heroic at times, and a nimble mover, though I’m not sure why he looks out front in every vocal phrase, seeming to check with Hrůša). Not all Mattila's chest voice nor the top cut as they should, but they don’t fail her at key moments. The smaller roles aren’t all strongly taken; veteran Hanna Schwarz has presence as Guth’s surprisingly haut-bourgeois Grandmother Buryjovka, but you still need a voice in good shape for the role, and Valentina Puskás’ Karolka, the Mayor’s daughter to whom Števaa has all too quickly turned in his embarrassment at Jenufa’s change of character, can’t always be heard (again, the set doesn’t help).  There’s radiance, though, from Kirsty McLean, stepping in for an indisposed Isabela Díaz as shepherd girl Jana (changed from the original boy Jano) whom Jenůfa has taught to read: here’s a voice which does carry in the vasts of the open set.

Much may depend on the mood of the evening, but this is the only Jenůfa I’ve encountered on stage where I thrilled to so many of the sounds but didn’t weep. Others, apparently, did. One bonus of the unnecessary second interval, though, was hearing a mezzo near Covent Garden tube singing Dalila’s “Mon cœur s'ouvre à ta voix" with the best voice and delivery I’ve ever heard from a busker. Always expect to be surprised.

• Jenůfa at the Royal Opera until 1 February
• More opera reviews on theartsdesk