Promise of gems to come from mixed bag

Five: 15 – Operas Made in Scotland
The Hub

The King's Conjecture ***
The Queens of Govan ****
Dream Angus ****
The Perfect Woman ***
Gesualdo ***

THERE is nothing new about the presentation of more than one opera on one evening. Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana goes along with Leoncavallo's Pagliacci like bread and butter. Puccini took matters a stage further with a package of three works on different subjects in his Trittico. But, although the practice can be traced back to the intermezzi and afterpieces of the early 18th century, it is questionable if audiences have ever faced five mini-operas in the course of a single theatre outing. The programme note's claim that the Five:15 project represents "a uniquely challenging project" is, therefore, eminently fair.

That the initiative "is part of a process and not a finished product" suggests a number of possible developments to come. Michael McCarthy, the project dramaturge, opens his programme note with a series of questions. First, he asks "What is opera in the 21st century?" The answer to that will become obvious as the years go by. If just over four centuries of operatic history may be seen to offer a clue, however, it is that the musical theatre will continue to develop. As an outspoken reformer, Gluck did what he could to break away from the formal structures he had inherited and, a century later, Wagner carried things a long way further on too.

Rather than skim the surface by confining this review to external aspects of performance, it seems appropriate to try to discover what indications of progress are to be found in the five little operas. For a start, their individuality points forward in a number of very different directions. One hopes they may contain some sort of inherent germ that might blossom into the production of a full-scale opera.

The King's Conjecture, by Bernard MacLaverty and Gareth Williams tells the simple story of an experiment by King James IV. By placing a baby alone on an island with a deaf-mute, his conjecture was that the child would learn to speak "the language of God". On returning ten years later, he was – predictably – disappointed. In The Dumb Girl of Portici, the French composer Auber gave the title part to a dancer. Her counterpart in the opening piece, Kate Valentine, (Grizel] sang eloquently of her innermost feelings without ever communicating directly with the King and his boatman. The make-believe of that was just about acceptable.

What gave special interest to The Queens of Govan was the pairing up of Indian and European cultures. Such multicultural experiments will no doubt continue to be undertaken by others. Virtuoso sarod player Wajahat Khan and Nigel Osborne collaborated expertly to ensure that traditionally Indian turns of phrase were reflected by the orchestra.

Alexander McCall Smith's libretto for Dream Angus was very well set off by Stephen Deazley's lively score – enough so to whet the appetite at the prospect of the two coming together again.

The Perfect Woman – libretto by Ron Butlin, music by Lyell Cresswell – contained some highly dramatic singing. Its ensembles made a welcome element and the music looked back at times to Stravinsky in idiom.

Ian Rankin and Craig Armstrong chose the composer-murderer Gesualdo as their subject. Despite some dramatically striking moments, it did not move along as fluently as some of the other performances.