“We live in an unsettled time. Who are our enemies? Who are our friends?” Lines like these make us feel like Nixon in China could have been written yesterday; Joe Biden would undoubtedly recognise himself as “An old cold warrior piloting towards an unknown shore through shoals”. John Adams’ opera has landed in Spain for the first time, with John Fulljames’ staging reaching Madrid after Denmark and Scotland. The production was conceived long before the current escalation of superpower tension made it so topical.

Alfred Kim (Mao), Leigh Melrose (Nixon),Sandra Ferrández, Gemma Coma-Alabert and Ekaterina Antípova
© Teatro Real | Javier del Real

Nixon in China is not so much about world events in themselves as about the people who are their public faces. Teatro Real has assembled a cast of superb singing actors with contrasting voices, who, under Fulljames’ thoughtful direction, immerse themselves and us into a deep pool of imagination about what the true character of those people might be. Jacques Imbrailo’s velvet baritone was the most appealing, exceptional in the opera’s closing number as the urbane Chou En-Lai, wondering “how much of what we did was good”. Leigh Melrose showed us a baritone voice of a completely different type, punchier, more metallic, as Richard Nixon vacillates between swagger and self-doubt. As Mao, Alfred Kim was a powerhouse tenor. Adams gives him some death-defying intervals to be navigated at full power and Kim accomplished them with ease.

Jacques Imbrailo (Chou En-Lai), Alfred Kim (Mao) and Audrey Luna (Chiang Ching)
© Teatro Real | Javier del Real

Adams and librettist Alice Goodman clearly had a soft spot for Pat Nixon, who is presented throughout as a sympathetic character always trying her hardest to do the right thing and bring the two sides together (although she photo-bombs too many scenes). Sarah Tynan’s soprano was sweet and appealing, while still portraying her character’s inner steel. Audrey Luna hit the high notes as Chiang Ch’ing, but her “I am the wife of Mao Tse-Tung” fell short of the showstopper it can be.

The surprise packet was the conducting of Olivia Lee-Gunderman, brought in at relatively late notice to replace the indisposed Ivor Bolton. The young Korean produced a truly extraordinary piece of conducting. This is a difficult score with continually shifting rhythms; not only did Lee-Gunderman point the beat with remarkable precision, but her whole arm movement through each note gave an immaculately clear picture of the dynamic contour she expected. The result was Adams' music played as well as I’ve ever heard it (including by Adams himself), with complete rhythmic consistency and a rich layering of sound that was utterly compelling.

Sarah Tynan (Pat Nixon) and dancer
© Teatro Real | Javier del Real

Fulljames’ staging starts from the perspective of someone learning the story from the archives. The first set is of walls of files, from which press articles and photos from the historical events are taken out and revealed in video projections above the stage. This requires costumes, make-up and mannerisms to closely mimic the historical figures: between Dick Bird’s designs, Fulljames’ direction and Teatro Real’s make-up team, this was accomplished with panache. 

Most Adams operas have the potential for scenes to drag and two of the scenes in Act 2 did just that. The “entertainments” staged by the Chinese for Pat Nixon are coloured by some brilliant choreography by John Ross, with the red-clad lead female dancer quite superb, but they go on for too long. The scene where the two sides exchange philosophical visions is staged with Mao, Chou, Nixon and Kissinger seated in armchairs; it has its moments, but it is too static and outstays its welcome. In contrast, Act 3, which can be something of a comedown, is engrossing as we really get under the skin of our protagonists.

Jacques Imbrailo (Chou En-Lai), Alfred Kim (Mao), Leigh Melrose (Nixon) and Borja Quiza (Kissinger)
© Teatro Real | Javier del Real

It’s still a good idea to know your history before you go. If, before you start, you don’t who were Mao, Chou, Chiang Ch’ing and Kissinger, you’re going to struggle. But if you’re armed with the basic history, the staging illustrates it beautifully. The longer it goes on, the more you feel that you have gained insight into the inner nature of these history-making people. And watching Lee-Gunderman conduct was that rare thing that enchants seasoned operagoers – seeing a previously unknown young artist reveal their potential for greatness.

****1