Butterfly, Oz Opera, Aug 15, 2008

Butterfly takes to the road by Sarah Noble

Puccini: Madama Butterfly Oz Opera Riverside Theatre Parramatta 15 August 2008

Oz Opera is the touring arm of Opera Australia. Every year it visits metropolitan, regional and remote communities throughout Australia, armed with a portable production, a chamber orchestra and a cast of hardy young singers. Principal roles are double cast and sung in rotation - those not taking principal role on a given evening take smaller parts or make up the minimal chorus. In communities where opera is rarely seen, Oz Opera productions are an invaluable opportunity for novitiates and buffs alike to share in the talents of our national company. They can also function as a training ground for rising young artists. This year Oz Opera is presenting Puccini's Madama Butterfly, in a production by John Bell, of Bell Shakespeare fame. Bell's simple and elegant production has updated the action very slightly, moving it from the nineteenth century to the early twentieth, to Nagasaki in the 1940s. Pinkerton wears khaki instead of the usual blue, and, like the tourist that he is, takes incessant photos of Butterfly's attendants. The new setting aids in bringing Butterfly's situation a little closer to our own lives. Abandoned, but still adoring, she does her very best to embody the American Wife she believes herself to be: she dresses like an American girl, and plasters her paper walls with clippings of Superman, the Andrews Sisters and other pop culture icons. Sets and costumes were designed by the late Jennie Tate (to whom this production is dedicated) and realised Julie Lynch. Tate's imaginative colour sense and eye for beauty are everywhere apparent, as is her ingenuity: the single, uncluttered set has been built for easy portability, but there is nothing makeshift about it. Bell's sensitive staging makes excellent use of the limited space; the final scene, Butterfly's suicide, is a particularly striking coup de théâtre. On the evening I attended, Butterfly and Pinkerton were sung by Jane Parkin and David Corcoran, with their alternates (Elisa Wilson and Jason Wasley) forming part of the six person chorus. Parkin was a vivid Cio Cio San, tackling the role's fearsome vocal demands with grace and distinctive tone. Only in its upper register did her voice show signs of misbehaviour, although even this was not a consistent problem; she rose to the climaxes of "Un bel di" and "Tu, tu, piccolo iddio!" with devastating power. Butterfly is too often dismissed as a victimised shrinking violet, but her dialogue (especially in the middle part of the opera) reveals a far more spirited and complex individual. Parkin's bright characterisation did a fine job of exploring these aspects alongside the character's obvious pathos, and even earned a laugh or two in her confrontation with the strutting Yamadori. As her feckless husband, David Corcoran was surprisingly sympathetic - no mean feat in one of opera's easiest-to-hate roles. Though thoughtless without a doubt, he was no brute; both his passing infatuation with Butterfly and his subsequent horror at her fate were brought off with convincing emotion. Singing with extraordinary beauty of tone and impressive musicality, Corcoran proved he is definitely One To Watch: it's no surprise he's been nabbed for Opera Australia's Young Artist programme next year. The remainder of the cast provide mostly strong support. Ian Cousins brings experience and steady voice to Sharpless. Brendon Wickham enjoys the comic mugging of Goro, although his performance is marred by choppy phrasing and wayward pitch. Victoria Lambourn's expressive mezzo makes much of Suzuki, and she's especially touching in the final scene, while Karen van Spall is appealingly dignified as Kate Pinkerton. Eddie Muliamaseali'i makes a spectacular appearance as the Bonze; Rohan Thatcher is suitably peacockish as the rich Yamadori. A touring production of this nature requires a few significant adjustments. With most of the theatres it visits unequipped to provide English surtitles, Oz Opera productions are performed in translation to ensure their intelligibility. While it's a pity to lose the particular piquancy of the Italian text, Peter Hutchinson's translation is faithful, witty and highly singable, and coupled with the sterling diction of the singers, does an excellent job of recreating the spirit of its original. In addition, since touring with a full orchestra would be impossible, Oz Opera's Madama Butterfly is performed by a 12 piece orchestra, in a re-orchestration by Lara Taylor. Such a reduction necessarily robs the score of much of its texture and prismatic sonority, but once the ear has adjusted, it does bring to it a degree of intimacy which is not without its charms. Christopher van Tuinen does an admirable job of leading this small-scale Butterfly, particularly in at its dynamic extremes, where he draws an intensity from the orchestra which belies its size. Oz Opera might sometimes be viewed, by citydwellers especially, as Opera Australia's "country cousin", but the strong creative team and high musical standards of this production are abundant proof that it is nothing of the sort. It's only a pity that, in New South Wales at least, this production couldn't be seen closer to the capital. Those unwilling to trek to Parramatta for Puccini have missed out on a treat.

Text © Sarah Noble

Lucia, Aug 3, 2008

Opera Australia presents Lucia di Lammermoor Donizetti Venue: Opera Theatre, Sydney Opera House Dates/Times: Evenings @ 7.30pm – July 30; August 5, 12, 16, 19, 22 & 27 Matinees: 1.00pm, August 2, 9 & 30 Written by Alexandra Coghlan

Sunday, 03 August 2008 23:41

Once you accept that Doninzetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor is essentially Brigadoon with an Italian accent (and perhaps just a hint more death...) and stop wanting or wishing it to be grand opera in the Verdi mode, then everything suddenly falls into place. With more tartan than Edinburgh on Burns Night, britches and bustles galore and a hefty dollop of swashbuckling, John Copley’s 1980 production (revived by Luise Napier), today feels as dramatically anachronistic as it is historically faithful. Yet in many ways this aged pantomime dame of a production is the perfect foil to Donizetti’s highland romp, playing its fairly extraordinary convolutions of plot and emotion with the straight-faced affection that they deserve, and making more sense of this celebration of operatic extravagance than any pared-down contemporary rendering. Henry Bardon’s set was a miracle of heavy-duty construction, with the wooded glades, cavernous vaulted interiors and secret grottos of Scott’s gothicke novel brought lovingly (if somewhat creakingly) to life, and was exploited to its full potential in the intelligent movement direction. At the close of each act the curtain would fall and rise again to reveal a dramatic tableau. Softly lit and beautifully constructed, each image was a three dimensional Dutch painting of surprising charm and life. Musically Donizetti’s Lucia poses some serious challenges, and not all of them technical. Even with the glorious richness of tone and dramatic commitment supplied by Jose Carbo (as Lucia’s brother Enrico) and Eric Cutler (as Lucia’s lover, Edgardo), it is very hard to take a vengeance duet seriously when the music itself lilts along in a brisk 4/4 like a Neapolitan folk song. After the ominous horn calls with which the opera opens there is really very little music in the minor key, which – in an opera that treats subjects of murder and madness – requires disbelief being not so much suspended as ushered out on indefinite leave. While the frenetic major key meanderings of the mad scene add a certain painful poignancy to the action, elsewhere the drama struggles to compensate for the atmospheric deficiency of the music. Emma Matthews, making her debut in the opera’s title role, was in characteristically silver-voiced form, and her performance only grew in sparkle and assurance as the evening progressed, culminating in a top Eb so exact that it was in danger of devaluing the sheer stamina involved. Cosmetic though it may be, it was such a delight, vocally as much as physically, to have a young and vivacious Lucia – a character whose dramas and histrionics are so much those of youth. With Richard Bonynge as conductor, the shadow of Dame Joan herself was always going to loom over proceedings. The lightness and energy of Matthews herself however ensured that comparisons never obtruded into the immediate life of this latest operatic incarnation. While the central trio of Matthews, Carbo and Cutler formed as strong a vocal line-up as has yet been fielded by Opera Australia this season, there were disappointments in the supporting cast, including a rather woolly Alisa from Rosemary Gunn, and Richard Anderson's somewhat stiff Raimondo. It was uncertain what exactly went wrong with the first chorus entry, but the precarious listing of ensemble that resulted has been something of recurring issue recently – perhaps owing to the inevitably tight rehearsal periods – and detracting from their strong vocal performances. Opera Australia’s Lucia di Lammermoor is a product of its (considerable) age, and as with all things elderly should be treated with affectionate respect and indulgence. Give over to the slower rhythms and quaintly atmospheric charms of this production however and the rewards are considerable, with Matthews and the rest of the young cast bringing a stylish flair to music that, for all its dramatic flaws, still represents some of the best tunes in the opera canon.

Lucia, Aug 1, 2008

Lucia Di Lammermoor

Peter McCallum, reviewer
August 1, 2008

It was all her own and that's refreshing.

BLOODIED (literally, at least in the tomato sauce sense) but unbowed, Emma Matthews rose to the top E flat at the end of the infamous mad scene of Lucia - a note Donizetti never wrote but which no soprano since Sutherland could contemplate omitting - and gave it a colour all of her own.

All the ghost Lucias who haunt the Opera House - Sutherland, obviously, but also Gillian Sullivan and Sumi Jo - were listening, at least vicariously through the ears of listeners who heard them and chalked up their performances for future comparison.

If judged on this note alone, Matthews would take an honourable place among the ghosts. Unlike Jo, Matthews sang substantially the same cadenza in the mad scene as Sutherland (Sutherland's husband, Richard Bonynge, was conducting). However, what was refreshing about Matthews's debut in this role was that she gave musico-dramatic meaning to the scene, so the experience became more than simply listening to the virtuosity and wondering when she would fall off (she didn't). Her combination of colour, lightness and agility was there in abundance right from her Act 1 aria, Regnava nel Silenzio, and it gave her portrayal of this role distinctiveness and freshness.

The return to focus on the dramatic purpose by Matthews and the rest of this strong cast is welcome and would be well served by replacing John Copley's ageing costume pantomime production from 1980 with something new. Too much of it looks and feels like the kind of parody of operatic convention described by Tolstoy in Natasha's debut in War And Peace.

But although the production is creaking, Matthews was far from being a lone point in a dark sky. Eric Cutler, as Edgardo, Lucia's star-crossed lover, was magnificent throughout for the smoothness and polish of his voice. He had power in reserve for the last act, which he delivered without a hint of strain and with impressive dramatic as well as musical stature. Jose Carbo, as Lucia's wicked brother, was equally splendid, with a forceful and focused tone and fiery stage presence boding well for the future.

Richard Anderson sang Raimondo, the compromised priest, with sober warmth, and Kanen Breen was dashingly superficial as Arturo.

Rosemary Gunn was redoubtable as Alisa, and Graeme Macfarlane made a worthy Normanno. The orchestra under Bonynge was under-energised.

It is time to move this work on from the Sutherland glory days or else impose a moratorium while singers and conductors check again what Donizetti actually wrote.