What: Ravel Double Bill – L’heure Espagnole & L’enfant et les Sortilèges Where: Royal College of Music, Britten Theatre, SW6 When: 6th and 7th Dec, 7.30pm

Price: £10, £20, £30, £40

Our prestigious neighbour, the Royal College of Music, is a fortress tucked away behind our own Sherfield building. Until now its activities had been hidden from me; but I am so glad that that has finally changed.

This week I attended the premiere of a Ravel double bill opera, produced and performed by the Royal College of Music (RCM) International Opera School. Given the relatively low ticket prices and the proximity to campus – it’s basically on campus – there’s not much of an excuse not to go, and if the world of opera has yet to open itself to you, then this is an ideal introduction.

I must admit I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Yes, this is the famous RCM, but surely I shouldn’t anticipate all too much from a student production? But to put it in those terms is misleading; these aren’t simply students, but the next generation of stars, some of whom I suspect may one day grace the stage in Covent Garden. To put it simply, the vocal performances were of the highest quality, and in such a small theatre these young voices carried magically. The orchestra, too were fantastic, with the finesse and virtuosity of the best professional ensembles.

The first opera performed was L’Heure Espagnole (the Spanish Hour), a raucous, witty and sexy affair about a rather ‘hungry’ housewife juggling her three suitors while her husband is out. Ravel’s sensuous scoring gives each character a colourful and distinct personality, yet isn’t afraid to descend to humourous sound effects when slapstick is called for. The production was genuinely funny and beautifully transparent in its approach. Only the final quintet was clumsy, and the choreography a little confused. The cast managed to portray their obnoxious and self-absorbed characters without becoming caricatures, which is no mean feat – even if some of the greater subtleties of comic acting weren’t fully there. We were then witness to Ravel’s ‘other’ opera, L’Enfant et les Sortilèges (the Child and the Spells), also in one act. This magical fairy tale involves furniture coming alive and talking animals teaching an insolent boy his lesson. In my view these technical challenges were handled less successfully than in L’Heure, although for a group with such limited resources they were inventive and impressively carried out. My companion was more convinced, though we were both left a little confused at some of the directorial choices, such as ‘trees’ being represented by cogs on chains. Apart from this, the performance was equally strong as L’Heure, and showcased some fantastic action for the chorus. The end result was a beautifully lit and touching portrayal of the boy wanting his ‘maman’. Opera is after all a kind of ‘total’ art form, a gesamtkunst (to borrow a term from Richard Wagner), and this is clearly a concept understood by the creative team. The stagecraft was impressive for such a small platform, complete with multi-layered sets and moving staircases, and some theatrical illusions were pulled off brilliantly. The lighting was creative and atmospheric – although a little limited as occasionally singers were left in the dark. All of this gave an impression of professionalism, and, when combined with the enthusiastic and skilful musical performance, an enthralling and engaging spectacle resulted. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a few evening hours away from the library.