Opera in Belfast: A canter through 500 years of history, set in a deconsecrated church

Sung in the city’s unmistakable twang, ‘Long Story Short: The Belfast Opera’ is fresh, contemporary and slightly daring

Bruno Caparoni, soprano Rebecca Rodgers, mezzo-soprano Bríd Ní Ghruagáin and tenor Ross Scanlon in rehearsals at Carlisle Memorial Church, Belfast
Bruno Caparoni, soprano Rebecca Rodgers, mezzo-soprano Bríd Ní Ghruagáin and tenor Ross Scanlon in rehearsals at Carlisle Memorial Church, Belfast

"A great man for the booze my father
was . . . " "Selling coal from a hole in the coal yard
wall . . . " "You utter nob!"

The words carry a swing, a salty musicality, an unmistakable Belfast twang. Still, they are not exactly the kind of phrases one might expect to hear resonating from the traditionally rarefied echelons of opera. But, there again, Long Story Short: The Belfast Opera is no conventional example of the art form.

The title gives a clue. In the course of its 60 short minutes, four soloists, a 100-strong chorus and a hand-picked orchestra of 20 will take audiences on a canter through 500 years of history.

Neil Martin (on left) and Glenn Patterson
Neil Martin (on left) and Glenn Patterson

Billed as a showcase for Belfast and about to premiere in one of the city’s re-emerging landmark buildings, it has been conceived as an operatic testimony to civic ambition and confidence. Belfast’s history bears its soul in brick and stone. Among all the shiny glass-and-steel, modern architecture and still-derelict wastelands, the pomp and wealth of the city’s Victorian industrialists and builders are on view around every street corner.

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There is no better example than Carlisle Memorial Church, whose soaring spire at the gateway between north Belfast and the city centre can be spied from miles away. While its aesthetics have long been a subject of debate and disagreement, it is an important element of the city’s built heritage, standing astride the cultural interface between the loyalist Lower Shankill and the predominantly nationalist communities of the Antrim Road and Donegall Street.

After many years of neglect, it came under the care of Belfast Buildings Trust, whose founder and director Fionnuala Jay-O’Boyle is a trained classical singer. It has been stabilised and secured and its stripped-back shell is now quietly awaiting a new chapter in its history.

With rehearsals at full pitch under the gaze of director Conor Hanratty, choir master Donal McCrisken and conductor David Brophy, the quietest place for a chat is the dark, dank porch inside the great west door of the church.

"The Belfast Opera was developed by the Trust as a continuation of our work here and as a way of moving life back into this building," says its development manager Shane Quinn. "Our ethos is based on restoration, regeneration and sustainable re-use. The future of this building is still under discussion but our mission is to use it to bring vitality into the area, not least because the people of north Belfast identify with it; they see it as home.

‘Major undertaking’

“Opera is a major undertaking. We wanted a project that would reflect the spirit of ambition pervading the story itself. Belfast is now the only city in these islands to have an opera written about it. But it is a piece that is accessible and immediate. It is the story of the city set to music. It debunks the whole notion of opera as an elitist art form.”

Writer Glenn Patterson and musician/composer Neil Martin are working on the opera. It is their second collaboration, after a piece commemorating the 250th anniversary of the Linen Hall Library. The production will play in a mixture of traverse and promenade styles, with the audience ranged along the length of the nave and the singers and musicians moving among and around them.

At the end of the working day, the chorus members start to arrive in dribs and drabs from their workplaces and homes, while the soloists – baritone Bruno Caproni, a native of this corner of Belfast, soprano Rebecca Rodgers, mezzo-soprano Bríd Ní Ghruagáin and tenor Ross Scanlon – cut loose on Martin's resonant score and Patterson's witty libretto.

Set in a call centre

With a narrative set in a call centre and the main characters singing in the language of the people, the whole thing feels fresh, contemporary and slightly daring, peppered with references to today’s burgeoning industries, families keeping in touch by Skype, weekend getaways in Reykjavik. When a stranger arrives into their midst, armed with a carrier bag, the call centre operatives Flo, Ed and Leah do not enquire if they can help him but immediately put in a panicky call to security.

“There is a sense of wanting to reflect something of the history of this place, while at the same time looking forward,” says Patterson. “It takes a not uncritical look at the past and a not unjaundiced look at the present. There was a series of workshops where people shared their stories and memories of living here over the years. We went along to some of them and listened to the tapes that were recorded. Some of the phrases jumped out at me and I have used them in the libretto.

‘Getting by’

“There was one in particular that kept coming up. A number of people talked about ‘getting by’, doing that little bit extra to earn a few bob, going the extra mile. The city had the biggest shipyards, the biggest rope works and some of that greatness was achieved by people getting by.

“I like the idea of a deconsecrated church being used as a call centre in a repurposed building. There are lots of repurposed churches all over Belfast. I have eaten and drunk in several of them. I like that sense of new life, new energy, bringing new groups of people together under the same roof.”

“Like Glenn, I’m inspired by the way Belfast people speak,” says Neil Martin. “There are lovely speech rhythms and cadences, there is a love of words. It is a really rich vernacular. It feeds the music. I’ve done works in Irish, Greek, Latin . . . but never in the patois of home.

“The storyline is classic to opera. It is about one man, it’s about love, death and history. But it is not a history lesson.”

Martin and Patterson come from opposite corners of the city, the former from the Catholic community on the north side, the latter from Protestant east Belfast. They chuckle at the this neat cross-community symmetry: “ . . . the box tickers were thrilled”.

He says that but for a recent collaboration with composer Ian Wilson on a chamber opera adaptation of John Fowles' novel The Collector, he might not have been quite so confident about taking on this project. "We wanted to do something that was not entirely backward looking, not a litany of past success," says Patterson. "For everything that was great about the past, there was disease and poverty. And no, we have not avoided those darker places, what you call 'that bit in the middle', leading up to where we are now – those times when it was easier to leave this place than to stay, when Belfast didn't deserve the effort we put into it." '

Own memories’

"People will reflect on own memories and experiences," says Martin. "I was inspired for that section by the style of the trumpet player Chet Baker. He brings a wonderful lachrymose colour to his playing. The pauses and silences allow everyone to fill in the gaps in their own way."

Long Story Short: The Belfast Opera is at Carlisle Memorial Church in Belfast on June 18 and 19. thebelfastopera.com