Poppea - SOH - Aug 8th, 2009

Sydney Opera House Adventures presents the Vienna Schauspielhaus production of Poppea Director Barrie Kosky Sung in German with English surtitles Venue: Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera House Dates: 6 - 16 August 2009 Duration: 2 hours including one 20 minute interval Written by Rebecca Whitton

Saturday, 08 August 2009

Auteur theatre director Barrie Kosky has taken The Coronation of Poppea, an early Baroque opera by Monteverdi about the decadence of Nero’s Rome, merged it with songs by Cole Porter from the equally decadent Jazz Age, to create a unique, contemporary music theatre piece that is rich with visceral spectacle, tragedy and humour. Monteverdi’s plot teems with lust, jealously, ambition, sex, violence and death – perfect material for Kosky who is at his best when dealing with extravagant and grandiose themes. The ambitious harlot, Poppea wants to usurp Ottavia’s role as Nero’s queen to become it herself. Nero (Kyrre Kvam) is happy to oblige. His philosopher, Seneca, advises against it and famously meets his death as a result, and Otavia (Beatrice Frey) is exiled, consigned to sailing the seas for the rest of her life. Kosky’s mix of explicit sex and violence affects the subconscious as much, or more than the intellect. The power of Poppea is not so much emotional, but visceral. Kosky’s debauched savagery has a cathartic effect. The music of Cole Porter, interspersed between Monteverdi, works remarkably well. Kosky says that, to him, Monteverdi and Porter share a similar melancholy. He uses the Porter songs to fill a number of roles and cleverly places them so that they comment on the action. Sometimes they alleviate the tension with the good-humoured razzle dazzle of a grotesque cabaret routine and at others they pepper the scenes with irony. This production shows the virtuosity of Kosky’s unique style – particularly his mastery and knowledge of music. It also shows his consummate skill as a director who has a finely honed ability to keep the audience working. Kosky crafts the tone and pace of each scene so that they are like a series of challenges and treats. There are moments of awe at his spectacular imagery (often highlighted by clever spot lighting and shadow effects, designed by Michael Zerz). There is great relief when moments of beauty arrive, very often following carnality and savagery. Instead of opera singers, Kosky has assembled actor singers for his cast. All of them are fine voiced, strong performers, particularly the beautiful silky tenor of Martin Niedermair, playing Ottone. Melita Jurisic, prowling the stage in a diaphanous, beaded flapper gown, and singing in a low, captivating growl, is perfectly lascivious, yet strangely distant as Poppea. Barbara Spitz infuses jaded glamour in the ever present and troublesome God of Love, Amor, playing her like a well-fed brothel madam. Beatrice Frey’s natural comic gifts sometimes overshadowed the tragedy of Ottavia’s lot, but given the style of this production shifts between tragedy and farce, it hardly mattered. Ruth Brauer-Kvam’s Drusilla (the only redeeming character of the evening) gave a dynamic performance, and the most striking of the production. Whether it is a scene of love, death or threat, Nero remains the sociopath for which he is historically famous. His sado masochistic lovemaking with Poppea is chilling and Seneca’s (Florian Carove) enforced suicide in the bathtub is excruciating, carnal, bloody and hideously compelling. Poppea is challenging and theatrically fascinating. It is not deeply affecting like Kosky’s 2008 STC production of Euripides’ Women of Troy (there are images, songs and speeches from that production that are indelibly etched on my memory). But it is an entirely different genre and it is perhaps unfair to compare them. This, after all, is closer to German cabaret than it is a play. Poppea is unsettling, outrageous, playful and satiric as much as it is tragic or epic. Should you see it? Yes, if you are up for it and are prepared to give yourself over to Kosky’s genius. But if your taste runs more to a well made play or a respectable opera, stay well away. Pictured above - Melita Jurisic