I will warn you in advance that this review is unlikely to be objective. I adore Glyndebourne opera in West Sussex and attend several times each summer. I am also an unabashed fan of Roger Allam, and his delightfully dry sarcasm. I have, however, had my differences with playwright David Hare over the years, so was anticipating a class-based critique of Glyndebourne’s early years. (One of the not inconsiderable joys of being a foreigner in the UK is that one is outside of the class system). I was delighted to discover that the play was much more subtle than that. An elegy on art, honour and the nature of love, I found it very moving.

Allam plays John Christie, the founder of Glyndebourne opera house. The notion of country house opera seems to us now to be delightfully eccentric (and typically English) but it was considered utterly crazy in 1933 as there was simply very little opera in the UK at the time. As Professor Carl Ebert (Nick Sampson), a producer imported from Germany, rather unkindly points out, “You have no tradition!” Ebert was joined by Fritz Busch, a conductor (Paul Jesson) and charming young Austrian Rudolf Bing (George Taylor). Indeed, it took representatives from the German and Austrian traditions to build this most English of institutions.

The first part of the play (there is no interval) looks at Christie’s motivation for establishing the opera house and the assembly of the artistic team. We first see Allam as a rich autocrat, but his determination and seriousness are enhanced as the play develops. His battles with Ebert and Busch (and to a lesser extent, Bing) over control are enjoyable, and Allam relishes the opportunity to throw his (metaphorical) weight around.  There is some very funny ruminating on Mozart’s virtues (or lack thereof) and Christie’s decided preference for Wagner. Ebert, Busch and Bing were very well played, with the actors clearly relishing the required accents. Their explanations of the reasons why they had to leave Hitler’s Germany were very affecting.

The play deepens, however, when Christie’s relationship with his wife, the soprano Audrey Mildmay (Nancy Carroll, breaking my heart as usual) is considered. Mildmay had been a member of a touring company before meeting Christie, and (as she puts it) had resisted marriage fiercely before giving in. The scenes where she acknowledges that she must audition for the role of Susanna in the opening season and where she shyly asks Rudolf for the outcome of the audition are poignant. Carroll displays naked vulnerability and yet wisdom, as Mildmay acknowledges what she has given up by marrying Christie. Her touring career may not have been prestigious, but it was all hers. Christie describes her “moderate soprano” as being one that is especially versatile, but it is made clear that she had a small voice but immense charm and an artist’s soul.

The play alternates between the early years, when Glyndebourne was in its infancy, and the postwar period when first Mildmay and then Christie suffered from various ailments. Allam’s portrayal of Christie’s love for his wife is love at its most uncompromising. His resentment at Busch (who refused to cast her in a production in New York during the war, when she was living in Vancouver and badly needed money) is fierce and palpable. His description of how all happy marriages end badly (since one of the parties must leave the other in the end) was incredibly affecting.

I will end where I began, on the notion of class and privilege. In the postwar scenes, Mildmay asks her husband why “they” hate “us,” as a trust was established to assist Glyndebourne (as was not uncommon in the postwar period). It is made clear that Christie is an aristocrat, who thinks that tickets should be expensive and that people should dress up and take the day to experience the opera in order to properly appreciate it. And this is, indeed, a privilege. Modern Glyndebourne has made welcome efforts to provide discounted tickets to younger people and that is, of course, desirable and necessary. But I hope it does not make me an unthinking privileged person to note that the formal dress and all day experience help to make Glyndebourne such a very special place. A delightful play and more thought-provoking than anticipated.