Aida - Sydney Opera House - 7 July 2009

A successful if not triumphant Aida by Sarah Noble

Verdi: Aida Opera Australia Sydney Opera House 7 July 2009

Verdi's Aida is an opera which leads a double life. At one (lucrative) level, it's a crowd pleaser par excellence, a favourite choice for arena spectaculars and a boon to directors who relish the chance to put an elephant or two on stage. Beyond the spectacle, however, Aida is also a perceptive examination of personal relationships ruptured by politics: the kind of opera of which Verdi, especially in his late career, was a master. Opera Australia's new production of Aida highlights this dual nature. Graeme Murphy's staging (realised in sets and costumes by Roger Kirk) presents three dimensional lives against a two dimensional background, an Egypt represented by massive cut-outs and an all-pervasive black/white/gold colour scheme. This bold aesthetic is appealing, but in the first two acts especially, Murphy's deliberate artificiality sometimes bears too close a resemblance to the clumsy décor of an amateur production, thus diffusing the impact of its stylisation. A change comes in the second half, however, as constant movement and fanciful flats give way to a far more focused vision. From cluttered beginnings, a seriously striking Aida now takes shape, culminating in a final act whose visual impact at last matches the deep, dark intensity of its musical and dramatic climax. Musically, the performance follows a similar trajectory. Sir Richard Armstrong's leadership of the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra is robust throughout but troubled initially by balance and tempo issues. As Murphy's staging begins to glow, however, so too does the orchestral sound, which is eventually as awash with gold as the stage. The chorus is switched on from the beginning, a vibrant vocal and visual presence.

Among the four principal singers, only two start as they mean to continue. From her first note to her last, Tamara Wilson's Aida displays a voice of distinctive beauty and apparently effortless power, warm and evenly produced throughout her considerable range. While not a natural actress, she is a sincere and sympathetic heroine. As her father, Amonasro, Michael Lewis is likewise excellent from his first appearance, his commanding voice and presence carrying all the hallmarks of a first rate Verdi baritone. Dongwon Shin copes well with Radames' demanding "Celeste Aida," but not until his third act assignation with Aida does the thrilling power of his voice properly reveal itself. His muscular tenor blends effectively with Wilson's tender soprano in their shimmering final duet. Milijana Nikolic, as a feline Amneris, also takes time to warm up, but her earthy contralto flares up in the final act with a blistering depiction of the princess's inner torment. Bass David Parkin, who won the ABC TV show Operatunity Oz in 2006, makes his official company début as an imposing King of Egypt, overcoming initial nerves to prove himself once again a basso profundo of serious promise. Jud Arthur brings his characteristic vocal authority to Ramfis, despite occasional throat trouble on opening night. Amy Wilkinson sings well from offstage as the Priestess, although there's not much of the celestial about her voice. Also noteworthy are the virtuosic performances by the company of dancers engaged for this production. Murphy is, after all, first and foremost a choreographer, and dance not surprisingly plays a prominent part in his staging, to mostly successful and occasionally revelatory effect. Aida is a double edged sword, so it's fitting that this production offers such a collection of dualities, intentional and otherwise. Had it remained at the level of its first two acts, this would be a troubled Aida at best, musical accomplishments notwithstanding. But the marked improvement in the final acts of every aspect of the performance is enough to make it a success, albeit a qualified one. If the first half can be raised to the dynamic level of the second, it might even become a triumph.

Text © Sarah Noble Photos © Branco Gaica

Traviata, Lyric Theatre, QPAC - 24 May 2009

Opera Queensland presents La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi Venue: Lyric Theatre, QPAC Written by Jason Whittaker

Sunday, 24 May 2009

Opera in Italian is like spaghetti and meatballs - the perfect match. La Traviata - Giuseppe Verdi's glorious opera - showcases this with gusto. They are both so much larger than life, opera and Italians. Gregarious, extravagant, pleasure-seeking; big gestures and bigger voices. Wonderfully life-exaggerating, life-affirming, both. The curtain opens to reveal a sumptuous Parisian party, but the ambience is infectiously Italian. The vino is flowing and the guests are merry. They sing drinking songs - the famed duet Libiamo ne' lieti calici is instantly recognisable to even opera novices. Be happy / The wine and singing / Beautify both the night and the laughter / Let the new day find us in this paradise. Violetta Valery - the hedonistic heroine of Verdi's story, or as she will become the ‘fallen women' as the translated title suggests - has returned to the capital after recovering from tuberculosis. She meets a long-time admirer, the sweet-natured Alfredo Germont, who is soon confessing his love. After much hilarious internal debate Violetta will give up her life on the party circuit to settle down with her lover. But nothing is that simple in opera. Money is tight, the in-laws are overbearing and there are romantic rivals waiting in the wings. There are family obligations, social standards, issues of love and morality. They are ubiquitously timeless themes in all their musically melodramatic glory. We watch Violetta's inevitable fall, inflicted by sickness and heartbreak. We're strangely touched by the genuine pathos. We care about her plight. We examine our own lives and what is important. Doubt me, if you like. As a less-than-regular opera-goer I may have done the same. But just go and see it. You will be moved by this eternal masterpiece from Verdi and librettist Francesco Maria Piave. What can you say about a 161-year-old score from one of the true Romantic masters? Only that the Queensland Orchestra, under the assured baton of British conductor Peter Robinson, brings it to life as you might expect. What a treat it is to peer into a crowded orchestra pit and hear this music reverberate around the renovated Lyric Theatre once more. Russian Elvira Fatykhova has performed the lead role countless times in opera theatres around the world, including in Australia previously, but she is still deeply affecting as Violetta. The voice is as flawless as you might expect, but impressively it is her, largely, that grounds Verdi's soaring score with an emotional integrity and draws the audience closer. This production is also lucky to have accomplished Victorian tenor Adrian Dwyer, who makes his debut as Alfredo but is a charismatic match for the gorgeous soprano. Special mention, too, must go to veteran Australian performer Douglas McNicol as Giorgio Germont, the father intent on restoring his family's name, and successful Australian export Andrew Collis as Doctor Grenvil. The popular John Bolton Wood, too, is typecast as the pompous protector of Violetta, Baron Douphol. The Queensland Opera chorus, 40-plus-strong, crowds the stage in fine, full voice. World-class stuff. Elijah Moshinsky designed an original Australian production, which has been updated by emerging young director Julie Edwardson. It looks incredible, from Michael Yeargan's majestic and beautifully decorated sets, Nigel Leving's captivating lighting design that creates three seasons on stage, to Peter J Hall's gorgeous costumes that instantly transport you back to the Paris of 1877. All as grand as Verdi no doubt intended. How does it stack up as a production, an opera behind only Madama Butterfly and La Boheme as the most performed work in the world? My admission is I'm not qualified to answer. But as a piece of theatre it is exquisite, a luscious treat for the eyes and ears and soul. Bellissimo!

Traviata, Lyric Theatre, QPAC - 23 May 2009

Opera Queensland opened its 2009 season on Saturday evening in true style with their sumptuous production of La Traviata. The main season for the year also includes an all new production of Beethoven's Fidelio in July and Rigoletto in October and also includes two entirely new pieces commissioned by the company - Dirty Apple and Waltzing Our Matilda also in July. Dirty Apple is a collaboration with Backbone Youth Arts and is to be directed by the very talented Michael Futcher (winner of numerous awards in recent years), while Waltzing Our Matilda is part of the 150th birthday celebrations of our wonderful state.

But back to La Traviata. The opera is based on Alexandre Dumas' play The Lady of the Camellias. Verdi's operatic version, with libretto by Francesco Maria Piave opened in Venice in March 1853, while this particular production was first staged by Opera Australia in August 1994.

The role of Violetta in this production is sung by the incomparable Elvira Fatykhova who is, quite simply, in a class all her own. Queensland audiences have already been witness to this Russian soprano's amazing talent through her singing of the role of Lucia in Lucia di Lammermoor a couple of years ago and as Rosina in last year's production of The Barber of Seville.

Cast alongside her is Australian Tenor Adrian Dwyer in the role of Alfredo. While technically quite competent in his own right Dwyer is quite simply outclassed by Fatykhova and so the production, while very good in and of itself, does not quite reach its full potential.

Douglas McNicol, as Alfredo's father Giorgio Germont, puts in a sterling performance and Rosemarie Arthars (a graduate of the Queensland Conservatorium of Music) is equally good.

However, this is a grand opera with a big cast and to go on naming a critiquing each and every performer would take more space than this column allows. Suffice it to say that the production just reeks of class and is a real treat for opera lovers.

Sets and costumes, designed originally by Michael Yeargan, who is himself Professor of Design at Yale Repertory Theatre, are simply wonderful. So much attention to detail has gone into this production that one can easily become distracted simply looking at all the little bits and pieces that have gone into it. Such an air of space has been created that it is difficult at times to realize that this is still the stage at Brisbane's own Lyric Theatre.

The Chorus, which of course for a production like La Traviata, is vast and is simply first rate. Likewise the Queensland Orchestra, under the baton of Peter Robinson, proves yet again that they are the equal of any orchestra in the country, if not the world.

Perhaps you don't like Opera. Or think you don't. Try this one anyway and you will surprise yourself. Verdi's music is sublime and will very likely win your heart. If you do like opera then make sure you don't miss this.

Four and a half Stars

-- Nigel Munro-Wallis

Cavalleria / Tosca - Sydney Lyric Opera - May 7, 2009

Brothers excel in company premiere
Thomas Howard
May 7, 2009

The Sydney Lyric Opera launched its inaugural season last night and showcased some wonderful young operatic talent. The Independent Theatre in North Sydney was an intimate and yet grand setting for this operatic gala which presented concert versions of Puccini’s Tosca and Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana. The stated mission of the Sydney Lyric Opera is to promote emerging opera artists and to provide the Sydney community with high quality traditional opera staged in a beautiful and intimate setting and at an affordable price. Even though some of the young voices on display demonstrated a general level of discomfort with this difficult repertoire, the Sydney Lyric Opera did in fact live up to its mission, by providing high quality performances by a couple of extraordinary young tenors who look to have huge careers ahead of them. Adding to the intrigue is the fact that they are brothers.

Singing the role of Mario Cavaradossi in Tosca was Daniel Sloman, an internationally acclaimed Cantor. For over a decade he has held various cantorial posts at some of Australia’s finest synagogues, including The Great Synagogue Sydney, but in recent years has studied opera extensively and traveled regularly to the United States to perform. It is obvious to see why this amazing singer was highly successful as a Cantor as his voice is one of staggering beauty and elegance and he perfectly expressed the romance of Puccini’s Tosca. His Cavaradossi was one of tremendous sensitivity and warm lyricism in the duets with Tosca, and he juxtaposed this superbly with heroic passion in his confrontations with Scarpia and dramatic sorrow in his despairingly heartfelt third act aria. His is certainly a career to watch out for.

But perhaps an even bigger impact was made by his younger brother, Benjamin Sloman, in the role of Turiddu in Cavalleria Rusticana. True big voiced tenors are a very rare breed, but it appears that Australia has unearthed one here last night. Benjamin Sloman lifted the roof off the elegant Independent Theatre with a performance dripping with virile Italianate fire. This is a voice of staggering power and technical excellence, endowed with astonishingly clarion ring. His artistry was sophisticated and stylish and he managed to add nuance and pathos to a role which is generally crude and shallow. Without a doubt we will be hearing from this fine tenor for decades to come.

Soprano Cathryn Deuchar was perhaps too lyric a voice for the dramatically intense role of Santuzza, but she sang with superb line and her voice is one of tremendous innate beauty. In fact, she spins such an entrancing tone that one is left wondering why Turiddu ever cheated on her in the first place. The role of Tosca was unusually double cast – in the same performance – with Jessica Walls and Angie Torbay sharing the honours. The role of Tosca poses great difficulty to even the most experienced of singers, and the Sydney Lyric Opera focuses on young artists, so it is not surprising that a compromise like this had to be made. Suffice it to say that neither Walls nor Torbay was able to deliver an authentic voice for Tosca. Nonetheless, both displayed good musicianship and generous voices that look to develop into instruments of some importance. As if making up for the shared role of Tosca, Ian Fisher performed double duty singing both the roles of Scarpia and Alfio. His voice is dark and dramatic but suffered a little as the evening went on, the higher pitches spreading and diffusing. His artistry was solid, however, and particularly successful in the menacing and violent scenes where Scarpia interrogates Tosca.

As musical director, maestro John Martin held the evening together with great mastery and performed with great sensitivity.

Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk - State Theatre - Apr 27, 2009

The opera that got up Stalin's nose

April 27, 2009

LADY MACBETH OF MTSENSK
By Dmitri Shostakovich,
Opera Australia. State Theatre.
Until May 5.
Reviewer John Slavin

IT IS difficult to know what made Stalin so savagely persecute this opera's composer. Perhaps it was its anti-Utopianism.

The work, brilliantly directed by Francesca Zambello, depicts a vodka and sex-sodden rural working class brutalised by the system. Katerina (Susan Bullock) is bored and neglected by her husband, Zinovy (David Corcoran), the son of merchant Boris Ismailov (Daniel Sumegi). When her husband leaves on business she is seduced by itinerant worker Sergei (Richard Berkeley-Steele). The lovers are soon exposed and Katerina murders first her father-in-law and afterwards her husband.

This tale of immoral passion is lucidly and passionately depicted. Hildegard Bechtler's sets are efficiently created out of a depressingly functional Rubik's Cube. The dreary isolation of this Russian hinterland is not the official fantasy of agit-prop farm labourers. There is a strong sense of threat and lawlessness in the first half that leads to rape, seduction, violence and murder.

But it is Shostakovich's extraordinary score that is the key player in the drama. It represents both the composer's perspective, satirical, priapic and bitter, and a Dionysian profligacy that bursts open the repressive hypocrisy of traditional society.

There is something brutal and cruel about the score. Sergei and Katerina's erotic gymnastics are depicted with big explosive discords reminiscent of Wozzeck. When the heroine mourns her murdered father-in-law, her elegy is parodied by lewd flute and bassoon.

Parody explodes in the second half. The officials who arrest the lovers are Soviet military police straight out of political cartoons. But Shostakovich's avant-garde exploration of the disjunction between sound and vision makes this work a rich musical experience as Orchestra Victoria, directed by Richard Armstrong, subverts the drama.

Berkeley-Steele's Sergei is stretched in the upper register but suitably romantic and duplicitous. Sumegi's Boris is what Sergei is destined to become, a drunken bully lashing out against his sexual impotence.

As Katerina, Bullock is wistful, vulnerable and impulsive. She does not tick like a time bomb with sensuality, the approach the role usually evokes. Her sweet tone and meticulous phrasing is not musically powerful, but it is a highly intelligent interpretation.

Explosive in its idiom, this opera is as rough, dissident and brave as the day it was conceived.

I Capuleti, State Theatre, April 14, 2009

Romance in full voice

Lovers amid carnage: Romeo (Catherine Carby) and Giulietta (Hye Seoung Kwon).
Photo: Jeff Busby

I CAPULETI E I MONTECCHI: BELLINI
Opera Australia, State Theatre,
April 14. Until May 9. 150 minutes
Reviewer John Slavin

IN ORPHA Phelan's production of Bellini's version of Romeo and Juliet, the act one set makes an ideological statement. The fire curtain is transformed into a massive metal wall. Drawn on it is a bull's eye pock-marked with bullet holes.

The Capuleti and the Montecchi are warring clans, in this instance in drab grey suits, who probably represent the internecine violence of Northern Ireland. Fairy lights traverse the wall and its target, a symbol of the love between Giulietta (Hye Seoung Kwon) and Romeo (Catherine Carby) that might refute the carnage.

But scarcely before the singing begins, there is an arbitrary murder of a hostage by a small boy with a rifle. It is supervised by the Capuleti leader (Shane Lowrencev) and its violence freezes the blood. It is against such shocking production values that the expressive tact of the music's best moments is measured. But the composer has not yet learned to establish complex character through his music and so there is no inner dynamism. Rather the narrative is a frame on which to hang the vocal exercises of bel canto.

There is no balcony, no brief happiness for the lovers. True, when Romeo first appears in his enemy's camp, he is brave and noble of voice and demeanour. But this is quickly undermined by the personal drama and when he faces his nemesis and rival, Tebaldo (Aldo Di Toro) on the battlefield, news of Giulietta's apparent death reduces both heroes to blubbering suicidal boys. Such impotent passion is underwritten by two females in the principal roles that emphasises their vulnerability. Carby, who is in fine voice with lovely coloratura flourishes, attempts to make of Romeo a charismatic romantic straight out of Walter Scott, but the libretto and the score allow her no space.

Giulietta is a thankless role. Chronically anxious, she is a crushed doll even before we first meet her.

Hye, whose lyric soprano is perfectly suited to the role, gives her a sweetness that is undemonstrative yet full of sentiment. She dies without poison or dagger, a victim of her romantic sensibility.

Brad Cohen guides Orchestra Victoria with a lyrical lightness of touch and there are moments when the music achieves a classic nobility and simplicity, a hint of the greatness to come.

Traviata, Melbourne Opera, Mar 28, 2009

Melbourne Opera presents La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi Directed by Hugh Halliday Venue: Athenaeum Theatre Written by Olympia Bowman-Derrick

Saturday, 28 March 2009 02:53

La Traviata is Giuseppe Verdi’s tragic romantic masterpiece. Violetta Valery (Kerry Gill), a Parisian courtesan, and Alfredo Germont (Roy Best), her secret admirer, are star-crossed lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet, their tragedy is their circumstance, their society and its conventions. Melbourne Opera opens their 2009 season with a new production of the first opera produced by the company six years ago. Under South East Regional Touring Opera, Melbourne Opera continues to provide affordable professional opera performances to metropolitan and south east regions, and greater employment opportunities for local artists. In the quaint, yet acoustically-challenged Athenaeum theatre, Hugh Halliday’s slightly antiquated production sat perfectly. Andrew Bellchambers attractive set design framed (quite literally) the action – outstretched longing hands reaching over a bed of Camellias. The fiery passion that infuses Verdi’s musical score demands great emotional engagement and expression – however, in this production, the need to perform to the front, for reasons of projection, seemed to take priority. Much of the dramatic passion was lost. It is very difficult, perhaps impossible, to portray the joy of love when you are not looking at the person you’re supposed to be in love with. Gill and Best lacked chemistry. Gill, who stepped in for the indisposed Amanda Wang, performed commendably. Her voice has a velvety sweetness that caressed Verdi’s legato phrases beautifully. However, the role of Violetta demands both dramatic and lyric potential to express the joyous outbursts of love and the tender breaking of a heart. Gill offered an exquisite lyrical pianissimo, but did not contrast this with the dramatic fortissimo needed to capture the vitality of spirit of Violetta, and of Verdi’s music. Gill’s portrayal was not helped by Sue Halls’ unflattering costume design and Christina Pallikaris’ hair and makeup. In a bustled, lacy Victorian gown, with a tight feathered bun, Violetta seemed more of the Marx Brothers’ Margaret Dumont matron than the coquettish vibrant flower. Only in the final act, as Violetta is dying from consumption, did the spirit of Verdi’s Violetta seem to emerge. In a simple slip, Gill’s soft frailty of expression captured the audience. Once described as, La *cough-cough* Traviata, this is an opera which despite its incredible subtlety and beauty, can quite easily slide into the melodrama and histrionics of a period costume drama. And yes, Hugh Halliday’s production included stiffly rehearsed unison chorus bursts of laughter, Victorian inspired costumes, and a little touch of Gilbert and Sullivan. But all of this simply added to the curious charm of the production – despite its failings, the audience was captivated by the vividness of Verdi’s music. Photos - Robin Halls: Kerry Gill as Violetta and Roy Best as Alfredo.

Werther - SOH - 23 March 2009

This well executed revival of Werther displays an admirable lightness of touch by Sarah Noble

Massenet: Werther Opera Australia Sydney Opera House March 2009

Jules Massenet's Werther is a curious European hybrid: a very French treatment of a very German story. Published in 1774, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's novel Werther made a celebrity of its author and an icon of its melancholy protagonist. Approaching the subject over a century later, Massenet and his librettists instead took every liberty necessary to adapt the novel to their own, very different idiom: plot points were manipulated, motives altered, and characters developed, expanded or simply invented. Massenet's Werther is a very different creature from Goethe's, with an artistic life all its own. Novel and opera recount the same basic story of the poet Werther's ill-fated love for the married Charlotte, a devotion which ultimately results in his suicide. Massenet's most significant departure from Goethe is in the nature of Charlotte's own feelings. Goethe's Lotte has great affection for Werther, but she does not return his love and has no intention of leaving her husband. Massenet's Charlotte is a romantic heroine in her own right, with the solo scenes and arias to match. She returns Werther's love completely, despite attempts to deny it, but remains bound by her mother's dying wish (another of the opera's inventions) to marry Albert. Goethe's Werther shoots himself and dies alone; Massenet's succumbs in the arms of a stricken Charlotte, who has finally confessed her feelings to him. Elijah Moshinsky's production of Werther for Opera Australia premiered in 1989. It's a slick modernisation, kept genuinely current by Moshinsky's stipulation that new costumes be sourced from contemporary designers (in this case Leona Edmiston and Farage) for every revival. There's no escaping the opera's Romantic-era melodrama, but Moshinsky's update offers an intriguing examination of the social politics at work in Werther without crushing its sentimental excesses. Michael Yeargan's spare, elegant sets and Robert Bryan's dramatic lighting design (realised by Simon Lefort) lend the production a cinematic quality: a hyperrealism which indulges occasional histrionics without veering into farce. Elke Neidhardt directs this revival with perceptive vision and admirable lightness of touch, finding room for the opera's sometimes laughable melodrama within a sincere depiction of its tragedy.

Australian tenor Aldo Di Toro's refined, expressive artistry is sensational in the title role. His honey-voiced Werther is a sensitively realised creation, his radiant pianissimi as moving as the ardent heights of his "Pourquoi me réveiller". Michèle Losier is a dignified Charlotte, her dark, full-bodied mezzo especially powerful in Charlotte's third act monologue and aria ("Qui m'aurait dit la place...Va! Laisse couler mes larmes"). Baritone Andrew Schroeder brings vocal authority to the role of Albert, Charlotte's husband, although he's hampered by a one-dimensionally stuffy conception of his character. Sarah Crane's sunny soprano is well suited to Sophie, Charlotte's relentlessly cheerful younger sister, a potentially irritating character made more than bearable by Crane's delightful presence. Stephen Bennett is warm and benevolent as Le Bailli, his sturdy bass and sterling French diction making much of the character's relatively brief appearances; he's trailed by a host of talented children as his Von Trappish brood. Stephen Smith and David Thelander bring welcome local colour to the piece as drinking buddies Schmidt and Johann, while Andrew Brunsdon and Jodie McGuren are suitably comical in their cameos as a pair of ersatz Beatniks, part of Albert's entourage of Beautiful People. The children's chorus sings with purity and intelligible French in their vital final appearance: a merry offstage Christmas carol cruelly juxtaposed with Werther's painful death. Conductor Emmanuel Plasson puts a winningly French stamp upon the work, carefully blending sincerity and syrup to give Massenet's rich, emotionally vivid score plenty of space to breathe and blossom. Werther will probably always have to give way to Manon as Australia's favourite Massenet opera but thanks to Moshinsky, Neidhardt and Plasson, this enjoyable and touching production is a happy reminder of why it shouldn't be entirely ignored.

Text © Sarah Noble Photos © Branco Gaica

Flute - OA - Feb 03, 2009

The Magic Flute

Reviewed by Peter McCallum
February 3, 2009

Acrobats unleash circus of fire and water.

Fire on the night . . . Emma Pearson as the Queen.

MOZART'S The Magic Flute aspired to a new style of vernacular theatre involving pantomime, magic, natural speech and stock characters, and has fought against the constraints of operatic connoisseurship ever since.

When David Freeman's production with the circus/dance group Legs On The Wall, choreographed by Debra Batton, first appeared, it updated Mozart's populist intentions with the stylish physicality of modern circus, but the high Fs and the high wires fought one another to some extent, and at times the music seemed upstaged.

On revisiting this revival the balance seems better, and so many of the production ideas - the acrobats who spectacularly unravel themselves from the ceiling, the affectionate archetypal lions who act as fierce primitive custodians of the just, and the appealing fire and water circus spectacles - produce simple theatrical joy in line with the egalitarian intentions of Mozart and his librettist Schikaneder, an innovator if not a genius.

Dan Potra's design, with lighting by Damien Cooper, evokes Enlightenment symbolism with modern lines, charm and liberal dispersals of pantomime vulgarity when needed.
Musically this is well sung, though the young conductor Ollivier-Philippe Cuneo does not quite have the maturity to keep the tempos fresh, bring out the tension in the bass and harmony, and impart the stresses that shape the melody, which made some tempos slightly slow. (Opera Australia has not really done anyone a service in bringing him prematurely to opening-night exposure.)

The principal pair, Andrew Goodwin (Tamino) and Emma Matthews (Pamina), are noble and true in voice and deed, both displaying gracious attractiveness of sound, which brings touching sincerity to Mozart's and Schikaneder's abjectly sexist story (the women are all bad or weak until, of course, they yield to a firm male guiding hand when, surprise, surprise, the sun comes out). Emma Pearson triumphed as Queen of the Night, particularly in the Act II aria, Der Hoelle Rache Kocht In Meinem Herzen (roughly translated as "slit Sarastro in the gullet for me"), where she had dramatic fire, took risks, and conquered. Warwick Fyfe had a more subtle triumph in managing to put across an ocker Papageno without inducing grimaces - largely because he sang so well, but the comic ability should also be recognised.

Daniel Sumegi produced some wonderfully focused deep sounds, and created a human, fallible Sarastro; a little more yielding of tempo between him and conductor might help move the more solemn arias forward.

The ubiquitous Three Ladies (Sarah Crane, Catherine Carby and Dominica Matthews) were archly comely, while the Three Boys (Joseph Bourke, Daniel Assetta and Cameron Woodhouse) settled into a touching final scene after initially unsettled pitch and balance.
Kanen Breen was a lubricious Monostatos, and Amy Wilkinson's Papagena was appropriate cheeky. Stephen Bennett was priestly and ascetic as the Speaker, and Andrew Brunsdon and Richard Anderson sang the wonderful mock-choral with walking bass in Act II with rich firmness of purpose.

Cavalleria / Pagliacci - OA - Jan 22, 2009

Opera Australia's Cav & Pag fails to catch fire by Sarah Noble

Mascagni: Cavalleria rusticana Leoncavallo: Pagliacci Opera Australia Sydney Opera House January 2009

The double bill of Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana and Leoncavallo's Pagliacci is frequently touted as an ideal beginner's night at the opera, and in many ways it is: two tightly woven, musically rewarding pieces, stuffed with all the Mediterranean melodrama a novice could want from a first opera. But that thrilling potential requires a thrilling creative team to realise it. The forces assembled for Opera Australia's current revival are certainly none too shabby, and the resulting production has a good deal to offer: but it doesn't exactly blaze with Road to Damascus brilliance. Operatic evangelists looking for converts during this summer season would do better to direct their novitiates to the company's revival of Madama Butterfly: this Cav/Pag is not guaranteed to do the trick. Director Andrew Sinclair has opted for a traditional approach. In some ways, this simplicity is admirable but ultimately it's far too static for the grand passions depicted. In both operas, there is a frustrating imbalance between background and foreground: the operas' respective sets of villagers abound with individual stage business while their leads seem to wander aimlessly among them, characterization dependent more on each artist's own personal magnetism than a considered directorial conception. Welsh tenor Dennis O'Neill, a frequent guest here, appears as both Turiddu (Cavalleria rusticana) and Canio (Pagliacci). His ringing, Italian tenor is in excellent form from the first notes of Turiddu's offstage serenade to the tragic conclusion of Pagliacci - his phrasing is fluid, his timbre distinctive and his voice secure from top to bottom. It's a shame he hasn't a comparable gift for stagecraft. There's very little sense of character development in his Turiddu, despite the huge emotional upheaval the character experiences, and there's insufficient distinction made between that characterisation and his Canio. His characters' fraught encounters with the women in their lives fall disappointingly flat, his unresponsiveness proving difficult to overcome, despite admirable efforts from the women in the cast. Also appearing in both operas is Australian baritone Jonathan Summers, who quickly emerges as the backbone the evening. Alfio receives relatively little stage time in Cavalleria rusticana, but Summers' riveting presence, subtle characterisation and dark, purring baritone transform him into the opera's central figure, or close to it. Better still is his unsettling turn as Pagliacci's disfigured and ultimately vengeful Tonio. Summers' vehement delivery of the opera's famous prologue ("Si puo?") is positively Shakespearean: even O'Neill's stellar rendition of "Vesti la giubba" doesn't quite outshine it.

Nicole Youl sings with restrained purity as Cavalleria's Santuzza. She's touching in the character's early scenes as the downtrodden social outcast, and her soft, silvery tone soars in her prayer. Her rather placid portrayal is at odds with Santuzza's more vicious outbursts, however, and her encounters with both Turiddu and Alfio suffer as a result. Jacqueline Dark is persuasive as the hunched, greying Mamma Lucia. But it is Dominica Matthews' sultry Lola who takes first honours among the women of Cavalleria, her flaming red hair and smoky contralto radiating seductive danger. Amelia Farrugia slinks and struts through Nedda's amorous entanglements with impish glee. It's an enjoyable but basically shallow characterisation: her Nedda is too superficial to be sympathetic, even when her flightiness gives way to real emotions. The role obliges Farrugia to make a rare and welcome excursion into the middle of her voice: happily, she finds more colour there than she has previously displayed, although the upper register remains by far the stronger and more interesting part of her voice. José Carbo sings with sincerity and suave, secure tone as her lover, Silvio, his powerful and mellifluous baritone making the role's comparative brevity all the more lamentable. Tenor Stephen Smith puts in an impressive star turn as Beppe, his light, graceful tenor complemented by smart, perceptive acting. Maestro Andrea Licata's reading of the two scores sweeps broad strokes of colour, opting for a dense sound, soaked in Mediterranean sun, over multifaceted transparency. The approach works well in parts but occasionally goes too far: slower passages grow soporific, while the tension in some moments of high drama is dulled. Thankfully, Licata's innate understanding of the style and the undeniably evocative scores of both operas - along with a healthy dash of muscular orchestral playing - prevent it falling into total torpor. There's a strong contribution from the chorus in both operas: they're especially effective in Cavalleria's moving prayer, operatic voices scaled back sufficiently to truly evoke a church service. Cavalleria rusticana and Pagliacci are two of the most flamboyantly Italian works in the repertoire. It's a pairing full of melodramatic potential, capable, in the right hands, of setting an opera house alight. Opera Australia's revival has flashes of inspiration, a few of them very bright indeed - but it's definitely no fire hazard.

Text © Sarah Noble Photos © Branco Gaica

Butterfly, SOH - Dec 30, 2008

A worthy tribute to Puccini by Sarah Noble

Puccini: Madama Butterfly Opera Australia Sydney Opera House 30 December 2008

Two days before the end of 2008, Opera Australia opened its 2009 season with perhaps the most popular opera of all, Puccini's Madama Butterfly. Moffatt Oxenbould's production, now twelve years old, remains as enchantingly youthful as Cio-Cio San herself. Cluttered exoticism gives way to an approach revelatory in its simplicity, where naturalism mingles seamlessly with stylised, balletic movement and elements of mysticism. The design by Russell Cohen and Peter England evokes a fragrant and sensual Japan, the spare, formalist set contrasting with the startling blues, pinks and reds of those who populate it. Robert Bryan's lighting design creates some extraordinary effects; the glow which surrounds Cio-Cio San in her midnight vigil is especially striking. It is a production which is suggestive rather than slavish in its detail, drawing inspiration from Oriental tradition without applying a theatrical concept so rigorously as to overshadow the opera's human centre - or its music. This revival sees the return of the singer for whom the production was created. Cheryl Barker is an internationally fêted Cio-Cio San who could possibly be forgiven for resting on her laurels. Instead, she brings her experience to bear in an interpretation which seems freshly created. She is an irresistible Cio-Cio San: not a relentlessly solemn and pathetic figure, but rather a spirited, passionate heroine whose laughter is as infectious as her tears are moving. Her voice may no longer have the girlish brilliance of ten years ago, but her vibrant tone is as thrilling as ever, and her darker timbre brings with it a host of new possibilities. Barker handles Butterfly's incredibly demanding music with typical panache and attention to detail. Her rendition of the famous "Un bel di" is especially impressive, transcending the aria's warhorse status to bring out its every detail and reinstate its very real emotion. Opera has few villains so universally reviled as Benjamin Franklin Pinkerton, the feckless American sailor whose abandonment of Cio-Cio San leaves her no option but suicide. That, at least, is the theory, but many tenors have found a way to give Pinkerton at least a hint of humanity. Julian Gavin's Pinkerton is more gormless than ruthless: a gauche tourist, deeply infatuated with his bride but fundamentally incapable of understanding the implications of his actions. Gavin's singing is refreshingly refined: he delivers a lyrical and dynamically varied performance, full of colour and happily free from bellowing.

Catherine Carby's presence as Suzuki seems like luxury casting, but in fact she's precisely as luxurious as the role itself demands. Suzuki is commonly cited as the archetypal Thankless Mezzo Role, but while she mightn't have a great deal to sing, her presence is nevertheless vital. Carby fills this role with delicate sincerity, and when she does sing, her shimmering mezzo is a delight, lighter than might be expected in the role, but surprisingly powerful. Barry Ryan brings gravity and expansive tone to the role of Sharpless, responding astutely in his crucial encounter with Cio-Cio San despite occasionally awkward Italian diction. Graeme Macfarlane is curiously appealing as the incorrigible marriage broker Goro, flitting about the stage and lacing his singing with just the right dash of mischief. Jud Arthur makes a striking cameo as the demonic Bonze, putting his remarkable bass voice to wonderfully scary use. Luke Gabbedy's appearance as the preening Yamadori is a little on the quiet side vocally, but he cuts a fine figure: maybe Butterfly should have accepted him. Young Artist Andrew Moran is strong as the Imperial Commissioner, while Jane Parkin, recently seen singing Cio-Cio San for OzOpera, is excellent as Kate Pinkerton. Maestro Shao-Chia Lü leads the orchestra in a performance of astonishing richness, beautifully shaped and carefully considered. There's stellar playing throughout, particularly from the strings. Some slight wrangling over tempo in the early moments of the opera was quickly resolved, and Lü's reading was as magical as the production, allowing the orchestral playing to rise as far as possible above its unhelpful pit conditions while supporting his soloists with care. The chorus is splendid, the women's voices blending gorgeously in Butterfly's entrance (surely one of the loveliest moments in all opera) and in the famous Humming Chorus. Reviving such a perennial favourite may seem a rather safe way of launching a season. But this particular Butterfly, with its strong cast, excellent conductor and eternally exquisite production, is no dull, everyday choice. Coming as it does on the heels of a season in which the company suffered a barrage of criticism and the sudden, tragic death of its music director, Richard Hickox, this revival of Madama Butterfly is a welcome reminder of all that's good and admirable about the company; and, a week after his 150th birthday, it's a worthy tribute to the genius of Puccini.

Text © Sarah Noble Photos © Branco Gaica

Otello, Vic Arts Centre, 21 Nov 2008

Opera Australia presents Otello Giuseppe Verdi Venue: the Arts Centre Written by Olympia Bowman-Derrick

Friday, 21 November 2008 10:00

Shakespeare’s Othello – the classic tragedy of deceit, revenge, love, and jealousy... in essence, all the makings for the spectacle and drama that is opera. Giuseppe Verdi’s Otello, on a libretto by Arrigo Boito after Shakespeare, charts the downfall of its hero (Franco Farina), the Moorish general and governor of Cyprus, as he is manipulated by Iago (Jonathan Summers) and consumed by jealousy and distrust for his wife, Desdemona (Kate Ladner). Verdi’s Shakespeare adaptations are notable for the way in which vocal drama assumes importance over vocal technique and display. The composition of Otello is exquisite in the subtlety and grace of its melodies, creating a fluid form which adapts to the expressive needs of the narrative. Opera Australia’s production of Otello was first produced in 2003 under the direction of Harry Kupfer, and revived by Cathy Dadd for this season. The most striking and prominent aspect of this production is the set, designed by Hans Schavernoch. An imposing black and red staircase dominates the stage, cleverly creating a sense of depth which allows for simultaneous action on different levels of the stage between different characters. However, the lack of practicality provided by the design was very obvious, with the performers taking care not to trip and tumble into the orchestra pit! Unfortunately, the caution required by the performers in navigating the set seemed to be carried over into their dramatic portrayals. Farina, Summers, and Ladner brought the expressive beauty of Verdi’s music to life, but often lost the drama of the action. In particular, the murder and suicide at the climax verged on comedy rather than tragedy – the strangling scene was almost cartoonish. Despite all this, there were a few precious moments in which Verdi’s ideal of the inseparable nature of music and drama were realised. The love duet between Farina and Ladner in the first act was charming, Summers interpretation of the ‘Credo’, in which Iago revels in his evil, an audience favourite, and Ladner’s performance and interpretation of the ‘Willow Song’ poignant in its tender lightness of touch and simplicity. However, the highlight of the performance were the large chorus numbers by the Opera Australia Chorus under the direction of Michael Black. The energy and spirit with which the chorus burst onto the stage as the curtains opened was tangible, with members of the chorus quite literally flinging themselves onto the set as they sung of the ferocity of the storm which opens the opera. Pity that staircase prevented a little bit more of that fearlessness.

Billy Budd, SOH, Sept 26, 2008

Murray Black | September 26, 2008

Billy Budd by Benjamin Britten. Opera Australia. Conductor: Richard Hickox. Director: Neil Armfield. Sydney Opera House, September24. Tickets: $99-$240. Bookings: (02) 9318 8200. Until October 16.

TEN years after its premiere, director Neil Armfield's production of Benjamin Britten's opera Billy Budd remains fresh and compelling. Dominated by a movable rectangular platform that rises, falls and circles an otherwise sparse stage, its great virtue is that nothing is allowed to distract from the moral drama that unfolds.

At this production's core are three magnificent performances. Although Peter Coleman-Wright's singing in the original production had greater richness of tone and complexity of colour, fellow baritone Teddy Tahu Rhodes is still a fine Billy Budd. Singing with a clear, focused tone and impressive agility, his firm, youthful-sounding voice is well suited to his character's exuberant good nature. Rhodes's characterisation is a winning mix of virile magnetism, artless simplicity and, ultimately, moral strength. And, yes, his shirt does come off for a while during the first act.

Tenor Philip Langridge's Aschenbach in Opera Australia's 2005 production of Britten's Death in Venice was extraordinary. Here, as Captain Vere, he is almost as good. Despite showing occasional signs of strain in his top register, Langridge's sinuous line, superb diction and sensitive phrasing illuminate Vere's inner torment at the excruciating moral dilemma he faces. He wants to save Billy from the gallows but his sense of duty cannot allow it. The pain and grief at what he is forced to do are seared into Langridge's vocal timbre.

As the black-hearted Claggart, bass-baritone John Wegner almost steals the show. It is a commanding performance of imposing malevolence and slow-burning intensity. He sings with stamina and strength, investing his voice with a burnished dark-hued tone. Wegner also captures his character's seething heart of darkness. Homoerotism is acknowledged without being overdone and twisted self-loathing adds complexity to a convincing portrait of evil.

The three leads receive able support from the rest of the all-male cast. The male chorus also has a prominent role in this opera. Sustaining good balance and blend throughout, they're equally impressive in hushed, sotto voce passages and full-voiced, fortissimo outbursts.

Apart from the occasional blemish, the orchestra responds to Richard Hickox's inspired direction with polish and refinement.

OA has been criticised recently for its musical standards and production qualities. There can be no more eloquent rebuttal than this outstanding production.

Billy Budd, SOH, Sept 24, 2008

Opera Australia at its very best by Sarah Noble

Britten: Billy Budd Opera Australia Sydney Opera House 24 September 2008

Not every great composer has been lucky enough to find a librettist of equal inspiration. Benjamin Britten, however, was blessed with several superb librettists, whose creations not only match the excellence of his music, but stand on their own as works of real literary merit. The libretto for Billy Budd is a prime example. Adapted from Herman Melville's unfinished novella by novelist E.M. Forster and longtime Britten collaborator Eric Crozier, it is at once readily intelligible and powerfully poetic. Britten's extraordinary score could ask for no better partner. The story opens upon the ageing Captain Edward Fairfax "Starry" Vere, recalling the year 1797, when he commanded the Indomitable. Haunted by remorse, he remembers the young Billy Budd, a talented and beautiful sailor with a heart of gold, pressed into the ship's service. The opera continues as Vere's flashback. Billy is innocent, kind and fiercely loyal; but that very goodness - and his remarkable beauty - earn him the obsessive hatred of the despotic master-at-arms, John Claggart, who plots to destroy him with a false charge of treason. The plot succeeds, but, bewildered by his interrogation, Billy strikes Claggart and kills him. Vere has no choice but to call a court martial, knowing that Billy will be sentenced to death but unable to budge from his own strict code of ethics. He is stricken with guilt. But Billy comes to accept his fate and with his last words, blesses his beloved Captain. The opera ends with the elderly Vere once more, still tormented by his memories, but clinging to that final blessing for his own redemption. Richard Hickox, Opera Australia's music director and an internationally acclaimed Britten specialist, leads a sweeping, richly-textured performance of this haunting score. He conveys the grandeur of its climaxes without lapsing into melodrama, and draws out its contrasting orchestral textures with warmth and clarity. Especially striking are the undulating strings, conjuring up both the physical ocean and all the psychological turmoil for which it stands. Kiwi baritone Teddy Tahu Rhodes is an ideal Billy, possessing all the vocal prowess and all the physical beauty the role requires. Despite his imposing physical presence, he captures beautifully the side of Billy which is still essentially an innocent child. He throws himself fearlessly into both the physicality and the emotional requirements of the role, and his smooth, sonorous singing is hugely expressive. Billy's final monologue, sung as he waits, in chains, to be executed, is devastating.

The opera may be titled Billy Budd, but ultimately it is Captain Vere, and not Billy, who is its centre. Vere's moral crisis is the crux of the story, and it is his tormented recollections which frame the opera, as prologue and epilogue. English tenor Philip Langridge is arguably the finest Britten tenor of his generation and he is stunning in this vital role. Age has brought to his voice an ideal patina of craggy maturity, mingled still with a freshness of tone which makes Langridge equally convincing as both and old man and as his younger self. He doesn't so much play the role as inhabit it completely, giving a performance of rare poignancy - truly a privilege to behold. John Wegner is outstanding as the terrifying Claggart, his tone alternately growling and caressing and his whole being an embodiment of diabolical malice. In a sea of ruddy sailors' faces, Claggart's face is an ghostly shade of white - he radiates unnatural evil before he has even sung a note. His credo (reminiscent of Iago's in Verdi's Otello) in which he outlines his hatred of Billy and its attendant schemes for his downfall, is a bloodcurdling tour de force. The sterling supporting cast is a showcase of some of the country's finest male singers, including particularly strong performances by Barry Ryan and Andrew Collis as Mr Redburn and Mr Flint, and Luke Gabbedy as the larrikin Donald. Andrew Goodwin is touching as the young Novice, while Kanen Breen's thin, reedy tenor is just right for the snivelling Squeak. The remainder of the cast is too numerous to list in its entirety, but all members are worthy of praise. The men's chorus is in superlative form, singing with unity and shimmering voice. Neil Armfield's excellent direction draws out not just the horror and suffering of this story, but also its humour and beauty. He explores all the ambiguous depths and destructive power of good and evil without forcing any single resolution upon their eternal struggle. Brian Thomson's set is stark, industrial and abstract - a single platform, surrounded by a few pieces of scaffolding, rises, falls and rotates to represent every part of the ship. Set against a vast blackness, it evokes not so much the detail of life at sea as the psychology of it, of a profound sense of isolation. Nigel Levings' lighting enhances the eerie mood and his representation of Billy's execution is a particular stroke of genius. Armfield's Billy Budd has been called one of Opera Australia's finest: it's a reputation richly deserved. Brought to life by such a convincing, talented creative team, it is nothing short of phenomenal.

Text © Sarah Noble Photos © Branco Gaica

Pearlfishers - OA - Sept 8, 2008

The Pearlfishers

Peter McCallum, reviewer
September 8, 2008

Ann-Magret Pettersson's production is an opera about orientalism and Western representations of the East.

Of golden voice... Henry Choo as Nadir.
Photo: Brendan Esposito

BIZET probably saw his opera The Pearl Fishers as a story in the tradition of Bellini's Norma: a love triangle about a woman, Leila, torn between sacred vows and profane love, and two men united in loyalty but divided by jealousy.

Placing it in Ceylon (originally it was Mexico) provides the usual excuse for exotic dance and colour, as is amply exploited in this revival. It is also an opportunity for the passions to run more freely than in real life.

Ann-Magret Pettersson's 2000 production transforms the work into an opera about orientalism and Western representations of the East, bringing the tacet colonial assumptions of Bizet and his librettists, Michel Cormon and Eugene Carre, to the fore.

Bizet's head fisherman and village leader, Zurga, becomes a French colonial governor and the whole story is set as a distant memory after he has returned to Paris. This gives a piquant and subtle twist to Bizet's musical representation of Leila, the famous hymn-like tune first heard in the great duet Au Fond Du Temple Saint.

With its celestial harp and flute introduction, it might have originally evoked the sanctity of an Ave Maria for Bizet's listeners; in this production it places her firmly on the Parisian side of the orientalist divide.

It also allows the design team (John Conklin, Clare Mitchell and Nigel Levings) to get away with a cardboard cutout view of Ceylon. In the post-9/11 world, orientalist analysis is under challenge, as this production might also be, although it is a thought-provoking way of setting a piece whose music still shines.

The cast of this revival oscillates between the stellar and the stalwart. Looking regally statuesque, Leanne Kenneally, as Leila, began with a veiled sound, her voice finding attractive definition in act two and powerful expressive intensity in the last act, where she was fiercely coloured with being stentorian.

Henry Choo sang Nadir with golden smoothness of voice. His dramatic persona is amiable, such that one would be inclined to put his importunate breaching of the temple in act two down to stupidity rather than passion.

Michael Lewis sang Zurga, bringing the judgment of experience to create fine balance in the great scene with Nadir of act one, as did Shane Lowrencev, the pious priest, Nourabad, who calls for blood in act two.

Bizet's opening was stilted but the Opera Australia chorus is magnificent in moments such as the closing of act one. The conductor, Emmanuel Joel-Hornak, exhorted passion from the pit, sometimes at the expense of precise co-ordination.