01 Sep Carmen, Figaro and Bohème
Carmen, Figaro and Bohème playing on successive nights is a good excuse to head to Sydney for some opera. Besides, I have a personal connection with Figaro: back in 1971, before the Opera House opened, I was an extra in the marriage scenes of Opera Australia’s production at the Elizabethan Theatre in Newtown.
Carmen remains for me one of the great raw operas. It is a violent tragedy that builds inexorably to a bullfight and a murder: Escamillo kills the bull, Don José kills Carmen. That was the problem with this production – there was no corrida, just a clumsy strangulation in a flower shop. So, the dramatic effect and most of the tragedy were squandered for some colour. This is too often a problem in Australian opera, where music and drama seem to run a poor second to design. The vocal performances, particularly Don José, were good to the extent I left thinking a concert performance would have been better.
Figaro, by contrast, rarely fails. With a strong ensemble it is difficult to spoil and this traditional production did not. All the great moments were done well, and the reconciliation duet was sublime. That single scene alone would have made a trip to Sydney worthwhile. My only quibble was Cherubino’s military disguise would have been more convincing had she not looked so untidy.
La Bohème the following night was warmly delivered. The bohemians did a great job creating the atmospherics for the garret scene, and I was reminded how fortunate I had been to have attended the famous Covent Garden production with José Carreras, Ingvar Wixel and various sopranos in the late seventies on a number of occasions. Kang Wang is a gifted lyric tenor and will eventually be a worthy successor to Carreras. There isn’t an act of Bohème that is not a highlight, but I always look forward to the Café Momus scene. This production pushed it to the limit and the revolving stage was used to such great effect I almost missed what I thought might have been a bare-breasted courtesan on a balcony overlooking the action. But I did have a problem with Musetta: instead of being stylish and kind, as she must be for her final-act sacrifice to ring true, she played the shrew in Act II and it grated. Still, the scene brought me back to my late 70s and early 80s salad days when it was easy to nip over to Paris from London on weekends to go to the Cotton Club where former members of the Platters sang Motown and the chorus didn’t wear much.
Despite my disappointment with Carmen, the visit has been more than worthwhile. The Sydney Opera House should inspire great opera and often does. During the Bohème interval I spoke to a visitor from Vienna here to run the marathon. She was also an opera buff, was loving the show and thought the Opera House acoustics were on a par with Salzburg. We are indeed fortunate to have it.
Roz Wilson
Posted at 07:33h, 02 SeptemberBy your account, a great trip to Sydney definitely rewarded despite your misgivings!
I am envious!