Off to the State Theatre in Melbourne for Opera Australia's production of Handel's
Giulio Cesare, with Tobias Cole as Caesar and Emma Matthews as Cleopatra. I was fortunate enough to have seen the McVicar production of
Giulio Cesare at Glyndebourne in August 2005 with Sarah Connolly as Caesar and the marvellous (Melbourne-born) Danielle de Niese as Cleopatra.
OA's production was first staged in 1994-5 in Sydney and Melbourne, directed by Francisco Negrin. The first full Handel opera I saw was also directed by Negrin -
Orlando at the Royal Opera House in October 2003. That production was panned by the critics, who took special aim at the costumed dancers representing Mars and Venus, regarding them as nothing short of embarrassing. One of the strengths of the OA production were the dancers (shown above - photo from
Opera Australia), caked in white make-up and with wonderful choreography which really added to both atmosphere and drama.
Opera seria arias last for ages, because the dramatic conventions of the Baroque period set out the aria as a vehicle for exquisite singing (and more than a little vocal showmanship) whilst simultaneously forbidding action to take place. Modern audiences can be confronted by a succession of singers rooted to the spot vocalising away happily for hours. As a result of the challenges modern directors face is how to break up this monotony with some action on stage whilst leaving the power and integrity of the music intact, which is where dancers often come in.
The State Theatre itself is vast, with three tiers and a capacity of over two thousand. The space was a little overwhelming for the voices, since the stage is deep as well. The production took steps to address that by building a runway out from one side of the proscenium round the pit and then halfway across, terminating behind the white head of Richard Gill, conducting Orchestra Victoria.
Lots of entrances and exits were made via this runway, and a number of arias were moved out there. Whilst this was a boon to everyone upstairs and at the back who now had a whiff of a hint of a sniff of what was going on it was also an excuse for some rather hammy crowd-pleasing, particularly in the aria
Se In Fiorito Prato in Act II.
Three counter-tenors on display - Tobias Cole as Caesar garnering much praise in the Australian press but leaving me somewhat flat. I don't have the technical or musical knowledge to criticise his singing, but I felt his voice was alternately hoarse, straining to stay in the soprano register or somehow too sharp. I have been spoilt enough to hear some of the best counter-tenors around, including Andreas Scholl, David Daniels, Bejun Mehta and Lawrence Zazzo so it may well be that I have unrealistic ideals. However both Daniel Goodwin as Nireno and Tolomeo seemed to have the familiar control and sweetness in their voices which makes the counter-tenor so wonderful. To judge from the storms of applause for Cole at the end no-one else shares my opinion though.
Emma Matthews was a strong, if conventional, Cleopatra. Her character sets out to seduce Caesar and doesn't meet much resistance, largely thanks to some knock-out tunes on the way and more than a little sex appeal. Matthews strips off to get into the asses's milk halfway through Act II, by which point Caesar can barely conceal his excitement. She may not have De Niese's looks or stage presence but Matthews has a wonderful voice and ample chances to show it off. Her acting, in common with that of other principals on display here, is not up to the level of her singing but you can't have it all.
Cornelia, whose husband Pompey has been betrayed by Ptolomey and murdered, and her immature but vengeful son Sesto, have rather a tough time of it on the whole. The moral heroes of the piece are rewarded for their steadfastness with music rather less ravishing than some and which can tend to drag on a little. Sally-Ann Russell, who wouldn't be thought of as overweight by any means normally, is given quite a plump, Bunterish presentation as the teenage Sesto in a black Nehru suit with red piping and puffy hair: she puts one in mind of a sort of "Chairman Mao of The Remove." Catherine Carby as Cornelia did little wrong in role very hard to get right.
The audience were classic Anglo opera goers: quite a lot of retired couples, ageing businessmen with crinkly-skinned, thin wives, the slightly more impoverished middle class 50-somethings sitting in "quite good" seats and being brave about it, fewer arty/cosmpolitan types than would be the case in London and many many fewer gay couples who make up half the audience at the ENO . There were just enough 20-something chicks to stop me giving the programme my full and utmost attention in the intervals, including one knockout brunette with three suits in tow.
Many more English accents were to be heard than on the average Melbourne street, which may explain how the ancient and inviolate Law of Inappropriate Coughing was in full effect. It is well known that in the days leading up to an opera English people sleep with their windows wide open, wear wet clothes next to the skin and chain smoke fervently, thus arming themselves with enormous quantities of phlegm. Said phlegm is hoarded and reserved in the oesophagus until the beginning of the most tender and poignant aria, whereupon en masse they try to recreate the sounds of the Battle of The Somme. Bastards! I can sit relatively still and silent for four hours at considerable expense while absurdly talented people make something beautiful happen, so why the f*** can't you? The Australians in the audience tried to compete by whispering to each other frequently but against the serried ranks of the Pommie Chest and Throat Artillery they were completely outgunned.
