McVicar’s ghoulish, gothic Don triumphs despite the odd vocal let-down.

Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House

July 25, 2014

It was a big night in Sydney last night. With Hugo Weaving opening in Macbeth across the harbour and Teddy Tahu Rhodes preparing to strut his stuff in the Opera House, it was clearly a night for the bad boys – Sydneysiders can be forgiven for feeling spoilt for choice. Those of us opting for the music, however, can consider ourselves blessed to have seen a dramatic staging that was as detailed and nuanced as the finest piece of theatre.

This is Sir David McVicar’s third crack at Mozart’s masterpiece of sexual morality (or lack of it) and if anything, his view of the work has darkened over the years. And by shifting the action subtly into the Romantic (or in this case, distinctly Gothic) period, he heightens the emotional conflicts at he heart of Da Ponte’s story. Among the numerous lights that McVicar shines on the murkier aspects of the drama, his particular attention here is on the ambiguities and hypocrisies prevalent in a society beginning to button its sexual pants and blouses in preparation for a century of Victorian values. McVicar’s men and women view that inhibiting prospect from a range of different viewpoints. Donna Anna might go there; despite his pious protestations Don Ottavio would probably rather not; and it’s too late to help poor Donna Elvira. At its heart though is Don Giovanni, a man who will go there, prophetically, over his own dead body. The degree to which the women in his life are tempted to walk the Don’s path is what gives this production its emotional breadth and its remarkable degree of sexual tension.

McVicar is a master at drawing convincing acting performances out of opera singers, and this production is no exception – everyone in the cast finds depths and dramatic nuances – but a special mention should go to his use of chorus and acting supernumeraries. Just watch the detailed playing out of the story after the murder of the Commendatore seen from the perspective of Donna Anna’s household. Genius!

The Gothic setting also allows McVicar to celebrate the supernatural aspects of the story with thunder, lightening and a compelling focus on the burial rites of the deceased. Robert Jones’ stunning design (the best I can recall in this house), opens up the Joan Sutherland stage, making it appear twice the size it actually is. Ostensibly representing a grand palazzo, its black-as-obsidian walls and pillars frame an enormous movable staircase that rises to the heavens. The action however, is significantly set well below the empyrean and in many scenes the Don’s domain appears to be the vaults and crypts even below that. The walls have crumbled away at the sides allowing the dead to spill through, heightening the charnel-house horror and morbidity of much of the goings-on below stairs. Jones’ costumes are nearly all black too, the pale flesh of the women highlighting the almost vampiric nature of their common predator – you expect to see a fang-marked corpse rolled out at any moment. David Finn’s excellent, atmospheric lighting design raises the creepiness stakes even further and there are some stunning contrasts when the lights suddenly go on. Occasionally it feels like a little more light on faces wouldn’t be amiss, but generally it’s dramatically gripping.

The all-Australian cast is generally excellent. Following her outstanding performance in Eugene Onegin (why no Helpmann nomination?), Nicole Car proves again why she’s the young singer of the moment. Her Donna Elvira is beautifully sung, comfortable at the top, clear and never overplayed at the bottom. In a moving and detailed portrayal she inhabits the conflicted character totally, from her first arrival in men’s travelling attire to her final desperate attempts to return to the arms of her abuser. Mi tradì quell’alma ingrate was a textbook both musically and dramatically, and you wouldn’t be surprised to see a couple of men with straightjackets arrive to take her away at the end. As Donna Anna, Elvira Fatykhova is excellently contrasted. Vocally she nails the role, singing effortlessly at the top despite the tricky tessitura. At times one might wish for a few more decibels, but she uses her instrument intelligently and her Anna gains in vulnerability for not being a vengeful harpy. Taryn Fiebig makes a warm, sympathetic Zerlina. The contrast between her sexual curiosity when Giovanni first tries it on, to her frozen realisation that she’s out of her depth at the masked ball-cum-orgy (impressively staged by Andrew George) is terrific. She’s in fine voice too, with a melting Batti, batti, and in a clever twist reveals a touching secret in Vedrai carino.

The men are equally dramatically compelling, if uneven vocally. Playing the Don is Teddy Tahu Rhodes, a singer of considerable experience in the role. In McVicar’s interpretation he’s a dark, dangerous Byronic figure – all tousled hair and testosterone (and notably a lot sexier than when clad in OA’s last production’s leather bondage gear). He acts the role well, exuding a rapacious, nihilistic frustration with the way things are going most of the time, yet oozing libido in Là ci darem la mano. Oddly though, he often adopts a head-down attitude that can prevent him coming across the footlights. Vocally too there are problems. His stentorian tones carry well as usual, but he swallows many of the vowel sounds and a great deal of the consonants with them. Close your eyes and you struggle to know what he’s singing. It’s a pity, and one can’t help feeling that these faults should be correctable.

The vocal standout among the men is Shane Lowrencev as Leporello. Powerful and clear at the top with excellent diction, the role is a perfect fit for him right now and he relishes every moment, knowing exactly what liberties he can take to further the comedy. His bespectacled, sardonic rogue is a savvy mix of bad-fellow-who-wants-to-be-good (but who really wants to be bad). His ‘Catalogue Aria’ wherein he relishes every salacious detail is one of the funniest I can recall. John Longmuir makes a good fist of the prissy, vacillating Don Ottavio (still one of Mozart’s least sympathetic characters). The moment when he exposes his frustration that Donna Anna is still not putting out, is telling. He sings with firm, even tone at the top of the range but he has a weird quality at the bottom, exhibits some odd vowel sounds (the ‘e’ especially) and could generally offer more vocal light and shade. Jud Arthur is a sepulchral Commendatore, well matched in volume with Tahu Rhodes. Clad in grave clothes, his wound still weeping, he’s most terrifying in the finale, matched by some frighteningly effective ghoulish women. Richard Anderson is effective in the ungrateful role of Masetto, cowardly when confronted by his masters but bullying with his prospective wife.

Jonathan Darlington conducts with an unerring sense of pace and drama. The orchestra are on great form and it’s nice to hear the fortepiano continuo in the recitatives. There were one or two moments when singer’s timings went out on opening night suggesting that it’s not always easy on the stage to hear the beat from the classical-sized orchestra. Nevertheless, this is an assured and detailed reading of Mozart’s thrilling score.

McVicar has signed up for three Mozarts over the next couple of years. With this fascinating, black-as-pitch production, he and his team have done Opera Australia more than proud. A clear case of bring on the Figaro.

Don Giovanni runs in Sydney until August 30. (All photos by Lisa Tomasetti)