State Opera Of South Australia. Festival Theatre. 4 Aug 2018
Performing anything for one night only is a big ask of any company, and a once-off performance of an opera is an even a bigger ask. When that opera is one of Richard Wagner’s, then the whole undertaking is almost mind-numbingly bizarre, but that is precisely what the State Opera of South Australia has done, and like the curate’s egg, the result has its good bits and its not-so-good bits.
The Mastersingers of Nuremberg is one of the longest operas ever written, and is almost certainly the longest in the current repertoire. It comes in at about four hours twenty minutes – not including interval breaks – but State chose to perform only Act III, which is close to two hours long. The whole thing is a brute, and can easily try the endurance of even the most stoic opera-goer. However, it’s a comedy (of sorts) which partially dulls the barb that is its enormity.
Choosing to perform only Act III however proves to be a weakness in the production. All the unfolding of character development that we might have witnessed had we seen the entire opera is of course absent, and, in his own words, director Andrew Sinclair was compelled to “concentrate on the stronger issues of romance, humanity and the importance of art” to the exclusion of almost everything else. If one does not know the plot sufficiently well, then the minor characters come across as two dimensional and relatively shallow and the principals’ fare marginally better. The drama is muted and understated except where emotions are in plain sight. Being a ‘semi-staged’ performance, the sets, scenery, properties, costumes and lighting are minimalist – almost sparse. This of course requires the audience to fill in all the gaps themselves, which is arguably unfair. Grand opera is, after all, meant to be grand. It’s why we go, and Wagner is a master of the artform demanding that all production elements come together in such a way that the whole exceeds by far the sum of the individual parts.
But, there is the music and the singing, and that almost puts every other misgiving to the sword.
Almost.
Wagner’s score is rich and exquisitely embroidered. Every sentence of the libretto is set to its own deliberate musical schema, and conductor Nicholas Braithwaite draws the very best out of the mighty Adelaide Symphony Orchestra.
Shane Lowrencev is stately and dignified in the pivotal role of Hans Sachs, and overcomes Sinclair’s almost absurd direction that requires him to sit at a desk almost motionless for the full six-minute duration of the prelude at the beginning. That inactivity cast the mould for his characterisation for the rest of the opera: patient, stoic, and accepting. Bradley Daley sings Walther von Stolzing beautifully. He brings lightness, grace and assuredness to the role, and it is one of the best vocal performances one has seen from him. Kate Ladner’s characterisation of Eva is restrained but her fine vocal line sails over the orchestra whenever it is needed to do so, as did Fiona McArdle’s Magdalene. Sam Sakker is animated as David and, pleasingly, he is instantly believable. His acting performance is one of the evening’s highlights.
The minor characters are played by Robert Macfarlane, Hew Wagner (who had the most expressive and animated face on stage of the entire company – he is so interesting to watch), Adam Goodburn, Andrew Turner, John Bolton Wood, Pelham Andrews, Jeremy Tatchell, Joshua Rowe, Daniel Goodburn and Robert England.
And then there is Andrew Shore in the role of Sixtus Beckmesser. His performance is an object lesson in how to breathe life into a character. His opening scene is hilarious, very welcome hilarity, in which he perfectly synchronises movement and music with the one magnifying the other. Presumably Sinclair had something to do with this, and the whole production would have benefitted from more of this penetrating direction.
The chorus of the State Opera is again wonderful, and the procession of the Guilds is a triumph vocally. Chorus master Simon Kenway extracts the very best from the large chorus. The clarity is exemplary.
The visuals of the procession are however lacking – much more colour and chorography and lighting effects are sorely needed, as they were elsewhere in the production. But, in Sinclair’s words, this is a semi-staged production, and corners are cut, presumably for budgetary reasons. One would have much preferred a Wagner gala evening along similar lines to previous Puccini and Verdi galas, but, based on the ecstatic audience reaction and their generous applause throughout a curtain call that was almost endless, one is clearly in a minority.
Kym Clayton
When: 4 Aug
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: Closed
University of Adelaide Theatre Guild. Little Theatre. 4 Aug 2018
Those eyes. Those eyes.
Goats do, indeed, have the most wonderful eyes and one ponders whether it was indeed in having eye contact with a gorgeous, intelligent goat which inspired Edward Albee to write this wildly shocking and also desperately funny play.
Matt Houston’s production in the Little Theatre balances these emotional extremes of the play superbly. Indeed, one does laugh and one also cries and, from time to time, the eyebrows leap up to hit the roof. But, mainly, one laughs.
It is not only the calibre of the four performers which hit the spot but the spot itself. The play takes place in a living room and the intimacy of the Little Theatre really intensifies the action in a way rarely achieved in a proscenium theatre. One seems to be right within the play.
The Goat is a tragi-comedy on the theme of how one bad choice in life can render absolute downfall.
Celebrity architect Martin believes he has the perfect marriage with Stevie. They are of the smug intelligentsia, a rather self-congratulatory couple with a gay teenage son. Then, one day, just as he is about to be interviewed for a TV show by his best friend, Ross, Martin gets terribly vague and distracted and everyone is asking why. Oddly, Martin has difficulty accepting why the news of his relationship with a country goat causes such emotional mayhem around him. And thus are the perspectives of love and humanity, bestiality and loyalty, and family played out in various levels of fury, debate, analysis, rage and bitter humour. It is a wild ride of a play.
Peter Davies plays Ross, the best friend and TV interviewer who is the first to discover "who is Sylvia". His role is all about incredulous shock and indignation and Davies plays it to an hysterical tee. Benjamin Quirk depicts the awkward and vulnerable teenage son, still treated as a kid by his self-absorbed parents. He is the collateral damage and Quirk brings home, complete with broken voice, the poignant impotency of watching a marriage collapsing in shards around one.
Gary George portrays mad Martin, the man whose complete collapse of judgement has created this domestic horror story. George embodies him as bald and bespectacled, a perfect candidate for a mid-life crisis. It is a toweringly torrid role fraught with moral and philosophical conflicts, all of which George delivers to the audience like clever slaps in the mind. There is much to think about.
It is Rachel Burfield who steals the show, however. She is the wonderful Stevie, the model bourgeois wife who has to come to terms with the unspeakable. Burfield’s pain and passion are visceral. It’s a sensational performance.
Indeed, with a simple and very practical domestic set and some perceptive lighting, this is a very classy production indeed - and emotionally rather enriching in an odd, Albee sort of way.
Samela Harris
When: 4 to 19 Aug
Where: Little Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
Pelican Productions. Norwood Concert Hall. 2 Aug 2018
It’s a corny old American high school musical about goodies, baddies, loyalty, integrity, jealousy and, rah, rah, rah, cheerleaders.
But, as it is played out by Pelican Productions in Adelaide, it is about South Australia’s talent pool. And here’s the big rah, rah, rah.
Our cup runneth over.
The young people in this large cast are bursting not just with ability but with discipline and dedication.
And the principals shine out with star quality.
This company has become a heartland for the cultivation and exposure of the upcoming generation of theatre workers.
The whole show has the glossy sheen of professionalism, from the orchestra to the sets, lighting and costumes.
The choreography finessed by Carla Papa is very bright and clever, many of the routines quite inspired combinations of good, accessible dance moves. Done with the sort of precision imbued in these many young dancers, they look really impressive. And, unfailingly, the stage is filled with performers with bright, uplifting smiles and eyes to the audience.
Behind the scenes are producers Jen Frith and Kylie Green with Adam Goodburn as director, Roseanne Hosking as vocal musical director and Peter Johns running the music. There are guitars and keyboards and drums beautifully balanced with the vocals.
Beyond the athletic ensemble work and the shows of acrobatics, there is the serious talent, the city’s upcoming awards potential. Sean Jackson was singled out for a Best Young Performer gig in the 2017 Pelican production and, once again, as the show trans, La Cienega, he is utterly engaging, a lovely personality thrusting forth amid the accomplished song and dance.
The principal female leads are Scarlett Anthony and Stephanie Cole who seem just about ready to step onto the Broadway stage; marvellous characterisations as the contrasting school rivals and top notch song and dance and even gymnastics from both.
Then there is Billie Turner who rises from geeky big girl to a veritable red hot mama; a powerful voice and personality.
Among the excellent supporting cast there shines Julian Perrini, Eve Green, Sophie Morris, Hannah Hamilton, Finnegan Green, Katie Olsson, Lachlan Zilm and Jack Conroy.
Watch for these names. They are going places.
And Pelican Productions, all power to them, are helping them to get there.
Three cheers.
Samela Harris
When: 2 to 5 Aug
Where: Norwood Concert Hall
Bookings: pelicanproductions.com.au
National Theatre of Great Britain. Adelaide Entertainment Centre. 31 Jul 2018
Oh, what a set. What a mighty set. The high-tech cube has landed and settled in to the Entertainment Centre Theatre space to perform its feats of visual acrobatics. This remarkable piece of theatre design represents the mind of boy who is on the high functioning end of the autistic spectrum. It extrapolates in images those experiences which sometimes most calamitously overwhelm the boy’s senses and sometimes those which are solutions to his thinking. It endeavours to give audiences a visceral experience of the mysterious other-world of autism.
The boy, Christopher Boone, is the subject of the Simon Stephens play based on the best-selling book by Mark Haddon. It is quite an extraordinary play, presenting some of its peripheral characters not so much as cameos but as silvers of persona, pop-up and incidental, as if glanced from the corner of the eye. It also presents city hordes in marvellously choreographed motions by the cast.
The world is shown as 15-year-old Christopher perceives it. He lives with his father and his pet rat in Swindon. He’s a maths savant. He can’t bear to be touched. He is afraid of crowds and strangers.
The dead dog, Wellington, who has been brutally impaled on a garden fork, is an impasse for him. His quest is to find out who killed the dog. It will be his detective novel in the style of his hero, Sherlock Holmes, he vows.
Finding out who killed the dog throws Christopher’s world into mayhem, causing him to set out for London, all alone, by train and tube.
Therein, the stage becomes a drama of trains and tubes, incredibly effective with glaring headlights and tunnels and sound and chaos. It feels epic. Like a latterday Candide, Christopher finds his way.
Themes of relationships with parents and teachers, with love and loyalty and honesty as well as courage, general knowledge and maths are woven into the play and the stage is busy with light and form and spectacle - none greater than when Christopher runs around the walls.
The agility and stamina of Joshua Jenkins in the role of Christopher is simply breathtaking. It is exhausting to behold, not only the torrents of stilted dialogue but also the desperate, screaming panic attacks. It’s tour-de-force stuff and, unsurprisingly, he receives a standing ovation.
The large supporting cast also come with all the creamy calibre of West End theatre, most prominently Stuart Laing as Ed, Emma Beattie as Judy, and Julie Hale as Siobhan.
The debate goes on about whether or not Christopher truly is meant to represent a person with Aspergers or elsewhere on the autistic spectrum. There are arguments that this work is just about a mathematician who is different. This all seems precious chatter when the play itself is such a spectacular voyage into that strange world. Anyone who has had a relationship with an autistic person will want to grasp onto the depictions of frustration and physical otherness delivered in this play, not to mention the agonising dilemmas of parents and teachers trying to keep such troubled souls calm and secure.
It is a sensational piece of theatre in anyone’s terms, albeit sometimes very loud and overwhelming.
Alas, for Adelaide audiences, there is the problem of the venue. Once again, the lack of raked seating in the stalls denies the audience full view of the stage and what goes on at foot level. In this production, the floor is a crucial area whereupon a miniature world is laid out. Sadly, this was not visible to many. The Entertainment Centre really should consider bleacher seating at the least in this otherwise fine theatre space.
Samela Harris
When: 31 Jul to 4 Aug
Where: Adelaide Entertainment Centre Theatre
Bookings: curiousincident.com.au
Independent Theatre. Goodwood Theatre. 27 July 2018
Sadness and joy. Therein lies a balance so delicate and beautiful that it has been the great creative quest of poets and composers. Or so asserts this marvellous musical two-hander by Jon Marans.
It explores the evolving relationship between a brash and disgruntled young American prodigy pianist and the ageing Viennese music professor intent on proving that one may be a better accompanist if one understands the music from the perspective of the singer. The singing lessons upon which Stephen Hoffman reluctantly embarks become, over time, a deep lesson in life and love as well as music.
This Pulitzer-nominated play lingers upon the poetry of Heinrich Heine and the Robert Schumann song cycle, Dicherliebe. It also focuses on the power of language and the complexities of being Jewish.
Professor Mashkan is not the great piano teacher Hoffman was targeting in his trip to Vienna to vitalise his stalled music career. Singing lessons from Mashkan, a quaint and curmudgeonly old fellow, come as an unwelcome surprise imposed upon him as a preparation for work on the piano.
The play is set in 1986 with the impending election of Kurt Waldheim and the tourism-related restorations of Dachau strongly colouring its background.
David Roach embodies the intriguing old professor in an extraordinary performance which grows and grows as the play slowly reveals more about the old man. Director Rob Croser has embellished this process with some exquisite touches, most particularly and surprisingly in scene links on the darkened stage. Roach mimes the piano playing and he is no great singer. He is, however, one of the fine actors of this city and this role is a jewel of a vehicle for him.
Ben Francis has the privilege of playing against him as the angry young American. Francis is a wonderful singer and he has to rein in this talent to portray a man for whom singing is a secondary skill. He does not downplay the emotional aspects of the recalcitrant student snapping and sneering disrespectfully until one wants to smack him. This extreme behaviour must be close to the bone since playwright Jon Marans has said this play is semi-autobiographical and he was right there among those on their feet applauding the performances on opening night.
But, for the audience at the end of the night, the play belonged to the pure profundity of Roach’s characterisation. It was his.
The first half of the production is fairly slow going, setting up the denouement with a great deal of musical exploration and explanation. The audience finds itself quite literally present at a series of music lessons. After interval, the narrative takes off and is absolutely gripping. No spoilers.
The protagonists take turns at playing the grand piano and the sound is quite convincing that this is so. However, the true musical expertise comes from offstage and the hands of the masterful Mark Sandon.
The play’s lighting is absolutely superb, thanks to Bob Weatherly, and the set by Croser and Roach is extremely lush and busy but quite perplexing with its giant white pillars and asymmetry.
Fortunately, it’s the performances that count, and they are indeed ovation material.
Samela Harris
When: 27 Jul to 4 Aug
Where: Goodwood Theatre
Bookings: independenttheatre.org.au