Last Sunday was the final showing for Pay the Piper at Glyndebourne, and I was lucky enough to make my way down to the Sussex countryside and catch this new youth opera. Jointly composed by Anna Appleby, Ninfea Cruttwell-Reade, Ailie Robertson, and Canada’s own Cecilia Livingston, this reinterpretation of the classic folk tale of the Pied Piper puts a hopeful spin on an otherwise grim fable rooted in the darker crannies of medieval history. We’re fans of Cecilia, who moves as fluidly in her work as she does between Canada and the United Kingdom. You can read more about composer Cecilia Livingston in our interview with her on Garden of Vanished Pleasures, a project from September 2021, or follow her on Twitter and Instagram to keep up with her upcoming projects.

Puppeteers and members of Glyndebourne Youth Opera. Photo by Richard Hubert Smith

The original story has many versions and interpretations, but each has a similar setup. The town of Hamelin, Germany, is overrun with rats. The mayor and townspeople are at a loss for what to do. Then, a mysterious pipe-playing stranger appears, offering to rid the town of rats. He’s donned in colourful garbs, hence why he’s called “pied”. He and the mayor agree on a price, and using his mystical pipe-playing abilities, he lures the rats away from town and into the Wesser River. The town is saved. But for whatever reason, the town and its mayor decides against paying him. Enraged by this betrayal, the Pied Piper vows to get his vengeance. When all of the adults are in Church, he plays his pipe once more, this time turning its powers on the town’s children.

Here, the story varies, with some versions telling of the children being lured into a cave, never to be seen again. Others are more morbid, with the same fate of the rats befalling the children. In most versions, there are at least two or three lonely children left behind.

Piper (Maya Kherani). Photo by Richard Hubert Smith.

In the version that I witnessed last week, the tale is much more hopeful, with the Piper becoming a little more relatable. The Piper, performed by Indian-American soprano Maya Kherani, uses her own powerful voice in lieu of a pipe. She also does not reveal the price of her service to the town mayor and council in advance of ridding the rats. Regardless, they agree to the terms because as the town is so well-off, they surely have the means to pay. Once the rats are driven out of town, the Piper comes back in the midst of the town celebrations. The mayor asks her to join in the celebrations, what with the town now restored to its former glory. She declines and asks to be given payment so that she can be on her way.

But rather than riches and gold, a house or a piece of land, she asks for a child. An unreasonable request by any measure, she then goes on to explain that this child was to be her apprentice in rat-catching, small enough to crawl into little nooks but big enough that they’ll be strong and capable.

Mayor (Adam Marsden), Piper (Maya Kherani) and Councillors (Alice Caroe, Maria Copley, Flo Gordon, Kate Pinnell, Eleanor Vincent, Amelia Worrsam). Photo by Richard Hubert Smith.

Of course, the townspeople rejects this request and chases her out of town. In this confusion, a the Lonely Child whose mother was attempting to take away to safety ran away. And just like in the original, the Piper swears she’ll come back and exact her revenge.

Sure enough, when she does come back, she sings her mesmerising, ethereal song, vocalising in eerie yet soothing tones. While the adults went off to look for the missing Lonely Child, the children follow her out of the village.

But rather than altogether disappearing, their leave becomes a metaphor for growing up, off to see the world and all that it has to offer. The Piper's song here is not a trick, but rather a challenge, an invitation for the children to realise their potential away from the small town they had always known.

This familiar plot unfolds with catchy tunes and beautifully coordinated vocals, alongside some impressive props that feature throughout the performance. Countless rat puppets held by both youth and adult performers flew across the opera, and a giant marionette that represents the Lonely Child sat on the left side of the stage.

Of the many things it should be lauded for, what makes this opera stand out is its accessibility. To the opera veteran who knows their Coloratura from their Contralto, Pay the Piper might not be an artistic achievement of the highest echelon. But it manages to bring about artistic integrity and creative prowess without pushing it beyond the reaches of those who are new to opera.

Piper (Maya Kherani) and members of Glyndebourne Youth Opera. Photo by Richard Hubert Smith.

The length of the performance was merely an hour, which made it a perfect introduction to younger people with shorter attention spans, or else those who aren't yet sure whether opera is for them. With the cadence of a fun musical, intercut with impressive operatic voices, the performance was as much about the narrative as the music itself. By using a well-known folk tale as a starting point, the opera also ensured that many would have a reference point to help them better understand the plot. Even those who were unfamiliar with the tale of the Pied Piper were given an extra hand, with the same sequence of events being retold multiple times from the perspective of various characters, a story-telling device familiar to audiences of television and film.

Quoting from the opera booklet guide, Cecilia says:

“...I was intrigued by the uncertainties and ambiguities implicit in the original fable, and the opportunity to draw them out operatically… Ailie and I each created a long continuous scene: Ailie’s drawing on folk music, and mine drawing on my love of Tin Pan Alley with a dash of minimalism and a hint of Nino Rota. It’s quite a mix!”

My one criticism was that the costume design felt somewhat incohesive, with the younger performers wearing what might've been their own clothes. The range in colours and silhouettes made it disorienting at times to keep track of what was going on, especially when contrasted with the times when these characters all sang in unison. Perhaps younger audience members would have found this variety in costume to be better-suited, but I would've liked to see some uniformity here, even if it was something as simple as limiting the choice of clothes to one colour in a range of tones.

Regardless of my thoughts on costume design, it was an entertaining hour, with some of the music being so melodic that it was practically coaxing the audience to perhaps sing along even if they didn't know the words. The performances by those in the youth opera were especially impressive, demonstrating vocals and coordination that I couldn’t imagine possessing at any age. The performers, puppeteers, orchestra and composers together produced a show that was worth travelling out to. The showings for Pay the Piper at Glyndebourne are over for the season, but we look forward to what the many talented contributors, including Cecilia, have in store for us in the coming months.

You can read more about composer Cecilia Livingston in our interview with her on Garden of Vanished Pleasures, a project from September 2021, or follow her on Twitter and Instagram to keep up with her upcoming projects.

To find out what’s next at Glyndebourne, you can sign up for their newsletter on their website.

Pay the Piper at Glyndebourne: Review