Let's start where most things begin...at the beginning.
First, I must mention something I noticed just after taking my seat: like many greats in his field (Markus Steinz, Riccardo Muti and Andre Previn spring to mind), Maestro Marko Letonja possesses a quality essential to the aesthetic theatrics of conducting - suitably "flippy" hair.
Orchestra Victoria launched into the Overture under the baton of Maestro Letonja, his mop of hair flipping along jovially with the beat. The mood of this four-minute's worth of music is a delightful precursor for the next three hours and fifteen minutes: fast-paced, beautifully tuneful and laugh-out-loud funny. Instrumentally, Letonja and his forces were flawless. The pizzicato strings accompanying Cherubino is his second big number "Voi che sapete", (not often emphasized to the same degree in other recordings) was a particularly pleasant little idiosyncrasy, in the humble opinion of this Royal Highness.
Thankfully, after many a flopped attempt to modernise opera productions in recent years, opera companies around the glove, including Opera Australia are embracing the old-school.
Before the elitist purists hail me as their deity, I must add that I do like modernisations. Honestly. But there's just something so romantic about a period production, isn't there?
This years' Opera Australia Figaro is one such bringer of romance, albeit with a few contemporary touches (I don't think the Countess in Mozart's day had a hair dryer?). Actually, I'm not sure this production knows what period it's in but one thing is for sure - it is period, and beautifully so.
We open on a backdrop of patchy earthy brown (much like a book you'd find in your grandparents cupboard: antiquated and kinda grotty, yet warm).
It's not shabby, nor is it uber fancy. It's Figaro and Suzanna's bedroom. The set is minimal - an ironing board and a charmingly dilapidated red leather chesterfield chair.
In later scenes, we're a fly-on-the-wall in the Countesses' chamber - a picture of candlelit, silk and muslin draped beauty, with a bed, a chaise lounge, a dressing table and, of course, a large window for Cherubino to jump out of!
Before this turns into a Better Homes and Gardens blog let's talk about some singing, shall we?The Countess, sung by Rachelle Durkin, is as gorgeous and easy on the ear as her boudoir is on the eye. Her light, fast vibrato is reminiscent of Mady Mesple, but nicely diluted by a creamy legato, not dissimilar to that of Dame Kiri Te Kanawa in her definite recording of the same role on Decca with Sir Georg Solti.
Opening the story are Suzanna and Figaro. The Suzanna of Tiffany Speight certainly holds her own (and then some!) alongside her famous on-stage lover (Teddy Tahu Rhodes). In regards to both on-stage chemistry and vocal harmony, Tiffany and Teddy were, indeed, in perfect harmony. For this I am sincerely grateful! There's nothing worse than having to watch two "passionate lovers" fumbling around the stage like a pair of nervous teenagers on their first date.
Another relief, and a definite credit to their talent, was that neither voice needed a scene or two to warm up to its full potential - there was nothin
g but gorgeous sounds from the very get go!
Also gifted in equal measures of stage-craft and vocal talent was the Cherubino of Sian Pendry. Without doubt, Pendry's pubescent page, in all his door-handle-humping glory, was an absolute stand-out performance.
Evidently revelling in the "Pants-role", Pendry managed to violate nearly every prop on stage: the ironing board was humped, the door-handle was humped - only the chair was spared.
Evidently revelling in the "Pants-role", Pendry managed to violate nearly every prop on stage: the ironing board was humped, the door-handle was humped - only the chair was spared.
From his cry of teen-angsty despair at the thought of actually growing up at the end of Figaro's aria "Non piu andrai", to tunefully gargling water before serenading the Countess in his aria "Voi che sapete", Cherubino was as gold as his costume!
On top of the operas labyrinthine plot, Pendry pulled off, utterly convincingly, being a woman playing the part of a boy pretending to be a girl (think Nathan Lane in The Birdcage training to be straight)!
Warwick Fyfe was right on the money as far as stage-craft is concerned as well, giving us a delightfully stuffy and hilariously flustered old Dr.Bartolo. However satirically spot-on his Bartolo was, the voice (although not bad) could not please in the same league as Teddy, Tiffany, Rachelle and Sian.
Warwick Fyfe was right on the money as far as stage-craft is concerned as well, giving us a delightfully stuffy and hilariously flustered old Dr.Bartolo. However satirically spot-on his Bartolo was, the voice (although not bad) could not please in the same league as Teddy, Tiffany, Rachelle and Sian.
Obviously, a persons taste for operatic voices - their fondness for certain voices over others - is entirely subjective. With this necessary preface out of the way, I have to say that I found Peter Coleman-Wright's Count Almaviva to be rather underwhelming. As I said of Fyfe's Bartolo: he wasn't bad, he just wasn't on the same tier as the others.
On the subject of the Count, I must give the costume designing team due credit. All the costumes, especially that of the Count and Don Basilio, in the opinion of this humble Queen-come-fashionista, were absolute master-strokes: the former resplendent in floor-length robes of gorgeous plush maroon velvet made him every bit the sleazy pimp-of-a-nobleman he needed to be; the latter an image of camp sleakness in well-fitted sparkling sequined black.
Speaking of Don Basilio, we opera fans will have to keep an eye out in the near future for the emerging talent of Kanen Breen. Given the solo, yet not lead role of Don Basilio, Breen's sublime lyric tenor (with the slight ring of Renato Cioni, and the sweetness of Leopold Simoneau) was an unexpected highlight and so much more than mere comic relief.
Just like the eating habits of a ten-year-old, I've saved the best bit, the highest praise, til last. Arriving late, and without a program in hand, I was unsure as to who would be singing the title role. In all my myopic splendour, I couldn't accurately make out his face - it was the voice I recognised!
That stunning bass-baritone of Teddy Tahu Rhodes, with its epic, effortless range - lyric in the stafe, creamy and robust below it and possessing those gorgeous sweet soft pianissimo's that make us thing of a male Monserrat Caballe.
Rhodes stage-craft is superb. He's seemingly as comfortable and confident on stage as he would be in his own home.
I've said this pretty much every single time I play him on the show, and I'll say it again now, whilst trying hard to contain my crush: Rhodes is gifted with the operatic trifecta, the Holy Trinity of opera-singer talent: voice, stage-craft and looks. He is as pleasant on the eye as he is on the ear.
A year or so ago, my Nana had tickets to see A Streetcar Named Desire in Sydney. Starring Tedddy...without a shirt!
What do they say about a man who would steal from his Grandmother? Consider me guilty as charged!
Bringing us back to the opera at hand (and to Teddy in period costume), is it wrong to find a guys forearm attractive? Or his calves in 18th century leggings?
If I got hot under the collar seeing Teddy in period costume as the gentle Figaro-next-door, I imagine I'll need a stiff drink when I see him next year, in period costume, as a tall, dark, smokin' hot bad boy!...
On the subject of the Count, I must give the costume designing team due credit. All the costumes, especially that of the Count and Don Basilio, in the opinion of this humble Queen-come-fashionista, were absolute master-strokes: the former resplendent in floor-length robes of gorgeous plush maroon velvet made him every bit the sleazy pimp-of-a-nobleman he needed to be; the latter an image of camp sleakness in well-fitted sparkling sequined black.
Speaking of Don Basilio, we opera fans will have to keep an eye out in the near future for the emerging talent of Kanen Breen. Given the solo, yet not lead role of Don Basilio, Breen's sublime lyric tenor (with the slight ring of Renato Cioni, and the sweetness of Leopold Simoneau) was an unexpected highlight and so much more than mere comic relief.
Just like the eating habits of a ten-year-old, I've saved the best bit, the highest praise, til last. Arriving late, and without a program in hand, I was unsure as to who would be singing the title role. In all my myopic splendour, I couldn't accurately make out his face - it was the voice I recognised!
That stunning bass-baritone of Teddy Tahu Rhodes, with its epic, effortless range - lyric in the stafe, creamy and robust below it and possessing those gorgeous sweet soft pianissimo's that make us thing of a male Monserrat Caballe.
Rhodes stage-craft is superb. He's seemingly as comfortable and confident on stage as he would be in his own home.
I've said this pretty much every single time I play him on the show, and I'll say it again now, whilst trying hard to contain my crush: Rhodes is gifted with the operatic trifecta, the Holy Trinity of opera-singer talent: voice, stage-craft and looks. He is as pleasant on the eye as he is on the ear.
A year or so ago, my Nana had tickets to see A Streetcar Named Desire in Sydney. Starring Tedddy...without a shirt!
What do they say about a man who would steal from his Grandmother? Consider me guilty as charged!
Bringing us back to the opera at hand (and to Teddy in period costume), is it wrong to find a guys forearm attractive? Or his calves in 18th century leggings?
If I got hot under the collar seeing Teddy in period costume as the gentle Figaro-next-door, I imagine I'll need a stiff drink when I see him next year, in period costume, as a tall, dark, smokin' hot bad boy!...
Bring on Don Giovani 2011!
This production of The Marriage of Figaro was my mates first opera experience, and what a truly perfect choice to begin with - no one dies, it's never without a pretty tune and it's funny (not to mention having Teddy Tahu Rhodes popping your opera cherry)!
This production of The Marriage of Figaro was my mates first opera experience, and what a truly perfect choice to begin with - no one dies, it's never without a pretty tune and it's funny (not to mention having Teddy Tahu Rhodes popping your opera cherry)!
- Tim Perry (The Queen of the Night)
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