Lindy Hume’s production of Mozarts’ Idomeneo (1781), ensures its stylised opera seria underpinnings are used as building blocks for emotional engagement. The use of three huge double doors, set in overarching whiteness, seems to summon aspects of the enlightenment, reinforcing the opera’s masonic hints, while providing some semblance of ancient Greek order. These are neo classical doorways that might have framed Sarastro. The brutal disorder that is unleashed on the opera’s characters, awash with the raging enmities of the gods, was projected onto this stark whiteness – able to lift or lower mood with simple yet clever impact.
The single set concentrated the action which opens with the conflicted daughter of Priam, Ilia, sworn to avenge his death but lulled by love with Prince Adamante into considering the impossible: forging a union with his killers. As Ilia, Celeste Lazarenko displays her excellent Mozartian credentials with a fine pure line, particularly haunting in “Zeffiretti lusinghieri” (Act 3). Here we held our breath and submerged ourselves in the poise and beauty of her vocal and dramatic intent – shaded by the forest’s calming embrace, as she created a world full of longing and hope.
As the ageing, war weary King (Idomeneo), Michael Schade gave a stellar performance. He embraces a wide dynamic range, supported by a clear tenor voice and deeply engaging characterisation. His vocal line is bound with a warm legato. The emotional brutality he summoned as he rejected his beloved son - for fear of having to murder him (as the gods have foretold) – was both painful and wrathful. His final exile from his kingship, when Neptune negates the onslaught of human suffering, on the condition that the old king leave his throne, was enacted with weighty pathos. He distinctly configured the opera’s desire for order: “you all have reason to hope”, he sings. Schade was both dominant and vanquished in the terrible emotional terrain that the opera demands he enacts..
His Act 2 aria, “Fuor del mar”, was grandly sung, while the dramatic video projections devised by David Berger seemed like a spreading virus, dark and malevolent, sprung from the King’s war guilt and his rash promise to Neptune to murder the first human being he encounters when saved from shipwreck (his beloved son in this case). The integration of opera seria, passionate acting and singing with stark but apposite imagery was integral to this successful production. The cinematography of Catherin Pettman was part of this integrated excellence.
The choral music of the work is overpowering, starkly beautiful. We can almost hear the young Mozart flexing his muscles. The overtones of his recent predecessor, Gluck, were there for all to hear. Like Gluck, the emotional frissons the chorus unleashed were profoundly affecting. The Opera Australia chorus responded to their opportunities with tremendous power and committed acting, creating a powerful plebian presence.
Caitlin Hulcup sang the trouser role of Idamante with a precise and powerful mezzo soprano voice. She displayed fulsome Mozartian flexibility. Though she tried with body placement to provide a boyish persona, she wasn’t always successful in this task. Her fluid body lacked a knotty masculine essence, and the extreme grimacing in Act 2 did not help ground the assumption. In the later section of the opera, however, when Idamante’s dashing assumption of heroic and potentially futile masculinity is required, she created a more believable character as Idamante raced around the stage, hell bent on destruction.
Emma Pearson as the possessed Elettra (vainly in love with Idamante) almost stole the show in her final aria, where she summoned the gods of vengeance and the spirt of her brother, Oreste. Invoking blood lust, the stage seethed with violent projections, this triumph of hate extraordinarily febrile, as though she was now the Queen of the furies, never to be placated. Her dramatic soprano voice dealt with all the vocal hurdles that inspired Mozart to create this extraordinary character. Single-handedly she purges the stage of forgiveness and order.
Indeed, hearing this work it is easy to see how inspired Mozart was with his magnificent orchestra and the stellar cast of the 1781 premiere. With this opera he touches moments of sublime heroic drama that he never again essayed.
Arbace, the King’s counsellor, was well sung by John Longmuir, managing his Act 2 aria with distinct aplomb. As always, Kaneen Breen was in full vocal and dramatic control of his comprimario role of the High Priest. A surfeit of excellent tenors indeed! Richard Anderson was suitably sonorous as the voice of Neptune.
Led by the highly experienced Johannes Fritzsch, the orchestral playing was vivid with a driving pulse that pushed the drama onwards. The gradation of sound in the pit ensured each segment registered its vocal and orchestral delights. The recitatives accompanied by harpsichord were swift and sprightly. The great storm of Act 2 (the creation of the sea monster and the unleashing of unbearable torment) was full of a deep, wailing feeling.. The frissons were thick and fast – conductor and director urging all musicians to tackle the inherent drama and nobility of the opera with a fulsome commitment.
The staging was simple but effective: set design by Michael Yeargan. The white chairs were arranged and rearranged to suits the emotional terrain that Mozart creates. The costuming by Anna Cordingley was vivid, especially the flowing plumed cape of the King, while the red cape that swirled around his blackness in Act 3 was like blood chasing its promised offering.
Yet again, another well-bedded co-production (with Victoria Opera) has provided a distinctive operatic offering for a somewhat neglected masterpiece.
Opera Australia, Joan Sutherland Theatre, SOH, Sydney, February 20, 2024
Gar Jones
The single set concentrated the action which opens with the conflicted daughter of Priam, Ilia, sworn to avenge his death but lulled by love with Prince Adamante into considering the impossible: forging a union with his killers. As Ilia, Celeste Lazarenko displays her excellent Mozartian credentials with a fine pure line, particularly haunting in “Zeffiretti lusinghieri” (Act 3). Here we held our breath and submerged ourselves in the poise and beauty of her vocal and dramatic intent – shaded by the forest’s calming embrace, as she created a world full of longing and hope.
As the ageing, war weary King (Idomeneo), Michael Schade gave a stellar performance. He embraces a wide dynamic range, supported by a clear tenor voice and deeply engaging characterisation. His vocal line is bound with a warm legato. The emotional brutality he summoned as he rejected his beloved son - for fear of having to murder him (as the gods have foretold) – was both painful and wrathful. His final exile from his kingship, when Neptune negates the onslaught of human suffering, on the condition that the old king leave his throne, was enacted with weighty pathos. He distinctly configured the opera’s desire for order: “you all have reason to hope”, he sings. Schade was both dominant and vanquished in the terrible emotional terrain that the opera demands he enacts..
His Act 2 aria, “Fuor del mar”, was grandly sung, while the dramatic video projections devised by David Berger seemed like a spreading virus, dark and malevolent, sprung from the King’s war guilt and his rash promise to Neptune to murder the first human being he encounters when saved from shipwreck (his beloved son in this case). The integration of opera seria, passionate acting and singing with stark but apposite imagery was integral to this successful production. The cinematography of Catherin Pettman was part of this integrated excellence.
The choral music of the work is overpowering, starkly beautiful. We can almost hear the young Mozart flexing his muscles. The overtones of his recent predecessor, Gluck, were there for all to hear. Like Gluck, the emotional frissons the chorus unleashed were profoundly affecting. The Opera Australia chorus responded to their opportunities with tremendous power and committed acting, creating a powerful plebian presence.
Caitlin Hulcup sang the trouser role of Idamante with a precise and powerful mezzo soprano voice. She displayed fulsome Mozartian flexibility. Though she tried with body placement to provide a boyish persona, she wasn’t always successful in this task. Her fluid body lacked a knotty masculine essence, and the extreme grimacing in Act 2 did not help ground the assumption. In the later section of the opera, however, when Idamante’s dashing assumption of heroic and potentially futile masculinity is required, she created a more believable character as Idamante raced around the stage, hell bent on destruction.
Emma Pearson as the possessed Elettra (vainly in love with Idamante) almost stole the show in her final aria, where she summoned the gods of vengeance and the spirt of her brother, Oreste. Invoking blood lust, the stage seethed with violent projections, this triumph of hate extraordinarily febrile, as though she was now the Queen of the furies, never to be placated. Her dramatic soprano voice dealt with all the vocal hurdles that inspired Mozart to create this extraordinary character. Single-handedly she purges the stage of forgiveness and order.
Indeed, hearing this work it is easy to see how inspired Mozart was with his magnificent orchestra and the stellar cast of the 1781 premiere. With this opera he touches moments of sublime heroic drama that he never again essayed.
Arbace, the King’s counsellor, was well sung by John Longmuir, managing his Act 2 aria with distinct aplomb. As always, Kaneen Breen was in full vocal and dramatic control of his comprimario role of the High Priest. A surfeit of excellent tenors indeed! Richard Anderson was suitably sonorous as the voice of Neptune.
Led by the highly experienced Johannes Fritzsch, the orchestral playing was vivid with a driving pulse that pushed the drama onwards. The gradation of sound in the pit ensured each segment registered its vocal and orchestral delights. The recitatives accompanied by harpsichord were swift and sprightly. The great storm of Act 2 (the creation of the sea monster and the unleashing of unbearable torment) was full of a deep, wailing feeling.. The frissons were thick and fast – conductor and director urging all musicians to tackle the inherent drama and nobility of the opera with a fulsome commitment.
The staging was simple but effective: set design by Michael Yeargan. The white chairs were arranged and rearranged to suits the emotional terrain that Mozart creates. The costuming by Anna Cordingley was vivid, especially the flowing plumed cape of the King, while the red cape that swirled around his blackness in Act 3 was like blood chasing its promised offering.
Yet again, another well-bedded co-production (with Victoria Opera) has provided a distinctive operatic offering for a somewhat neglected masterpiece.
Opera Australia, Joan Sutherland Theatre, SOH, Sydney, February 20, 2024
Gar Jones
