Conducted by Stuart Stratford

Directed by Satoshi Miyagi

Review by Eloise Robertson

Dai Fujikura and Harry Ross’ latest offering, The Great Wave, showcases a segment of Katsushika Hokusai’s life beautifully, with an eventful score and some fascinating aesthetic choices. These were almost sufficient to disguise the unfocused storyline, which became apparent when the pacing slowed. In this, it reflects how Hokusai’s life provides a fantastic catalogue of aesthetic material but is narratively rather less dramatic. 

The show opens quietly, allowing attention to be dedicated to the slowly building orchestra. When Shozan Hasegawa’s stellar shakuhachi playing breaks into this somber landscape, it steals the show. While this first scene certainly credits Fujikura’s composition, it demands great patience from an audience who have not been given reason to embrace the world they are seeing. This onus on the audience continued intermittently through the first half, with monochrome costuming and lighting choices falling flat when combined with overly elongated plot points. It would have been interesting to see more diversity in lighting states, to compensate for the crisp all-white vision.

Their bold aesthetic choices, nonetheless, were completely worth seeing for when they paid off. Moments of this success were sprinkled through the first half; both in Hokusai’s intense vision of the wave and charm of Act III’s studio sequence. What these scenes shared was a full use of the chorus’ vocal strength and dancing prowess. Chorus director, Susannah Wapshott, deserves massive credit: the chorus absolutely shone. Unison seemed to flatter the soundscape, the writing, and the aesthetics more neatly than solo performances. This was evident in the musicality in the chorus’ shushes, the metaphorical license taken in their lyrics, and the cohesive look when their monochrome bodies moved together. Choreographer Akiko Kitamura deserves huge praise; the movements were beautiful.

In these busier moments, the unity between set and blocking shone through. From the enormous towers which spun to display Hokusai’s Great Wave to oversized sketchbooks which provided paper-walls to frame every interaction, Junpei Kiz’s set is breath-taking in its intelligence. It seemed to collaborate intimately with Satoshi Miyagi’s direction, which was very well considered. Every movement across the stage felt natural, while consistently ending in blocking states which framed the action perfectly. This meant that in every moment, the centre of attention – be it Hokusai, Ōi, or the chorus – could shine through. These choices welcomed the interval with a wonderful climax.

From seconds into the second half, the motivation for producing this work became apparent. In the bold use of visual effects to display Hokusai’s work alongside such an inventive soundscape, Fujikura and Ross’ original vision was realised. In this half the show gained its charm offensive, with Dan Amstrong portraying a Spirit of Hokusai who cheekily projected his gorgeous artistic catalogue across the set pieces. With this charm it gained more intensity too, creating a clearer picture of Hokusai as a character made his death more touching. His farewell, therefore, hit with all the intensity it should. This is in large part due, also, to Eri Fukasawa’s wonderful puppet design, which worked so cohesively with the corresponding visual effects to produce a triumphant final sequence. Sho Yamaguchi’s visual effects were the best celebration the show could give Hokusai; they were truly aesthetically fascinating.

On the charm front, one need look no further than Daisuke Ohyama’s performance of Hokusai. His vocal prowess shows not merely in sounding perfect but in how easily he manifests his character through his intonation, bolstered by playful physicality and facial expressions. Julieth Lozano Rolong’s portrayal of Ōi was vocally faultless. In supporting roles, both Shengzhi Ren and Chloe Harris deserve praise for their superb stage presence, bouncing effortlessly off the chorus and Hokusai. When these performances combined with the artistic decision seamlessly, particularly in the second half, the result was wonderful. Fujikara and Ross deserve praise for the innovation that churns through this fascinating new opera – when it works it really works.

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