It has been said that there are two emotions, love and fear. The creative pairing of Puccini and Graeme Murphy is successful in vividly outlining such feelings in the current revival of Murphy’s stunning production.
Conductor Christian Badea presents a strong realisation of Puccini’s atmospheric score. Inspired by this music, Murphy uses intersecting movement prescribed for sub-sections of the ensemble as well as challenging unisons at times such as human waves depicting swirling emotions and troubled minds.
The setting, Peking’s Imperial Palace, is evoked with excellent composite sets and shifting textures as designed by Kristian Fredrikson. His detailed costuming and props dazzle, as does the choreography which asks for these to be manipulated during poses so as to hide or reveal the characters’ vulnerabilities or suggest general unrest.
There are huge ensembles filling the stage for many scenes. However, tableaux are never static for long, so the crowds and story moves along smoothly. This production and design gives us an experience of opera drawing on the genre’s history of music wedded with large scale design and permission to enter the realm of fantasy.
Today we know the trials of royals struggling with their planned destinies and convention. In this opera, we go behind the fans to meet Princess Turandot. She has devised a ruthless ceremony to defy marriage. It is complete with gongs, executioners, elaborately clothed attendants and a test where suitors must answer three riddles or risk beheading. Such scenes combine all actors, dancers, and vocalists in breathtaking action and imagery.
In one of the production’s true visual delights, Emperor Altoum (Benjamin Rasheed) has a literally lofty orientation for his high hope that his daughter will welcome love and duty. Such ambition is matched by the entry of the calm and confident Prince Calaf, happy to fall in love at first sight. Yonghoon Lee’s strong, even tenor tone and gentle physical poise presents this wholesome character with incredible focus. His demeanour contrasts to the hopelessness of his blind exiled father King Timur (Jud Arthur) and slave (Hyeseoung Kwon), who perform with credible and effective expression.
Act Two is opened brilliantly by the trio Ping, Pang and Pong in garb and painted face of the Chinese theatrical tradition. This trio (Luke Gabbedy, John Longmuir and Graeme Macfarlane) master the art of exposition, storytelling, comedy and nicely blended singing as they detail the status quo. They are swathed in large props resembling lanterns or wall hangings, or balancing on these with the help of dancers.
Frightening physicality personified, the giant Turandot (Lise Lindestrom) in layered white costume is wheeled around by attendants to ask the riddles before her latest victim, Calaf.
His correct answers gradually break Turandot’s bloody plan down. We witness a ceremonial undressing and lowering of the fragile, confused princess to a more grounded level. This fracture is portrayed with superb shifts of emotion energy and a wealth of vocal tone colours by Lindstrom.
After Lee’s kind Calaf gives the princess a final chance to win by guessing his name, and Turandot forbids sleep for subjects until an answer is found, human and technical effects engulf the stage for Act Three’s opening. Lee commands the murky space well and when it is clearer delivers a brilliantly nuanced ‘Nessun Dorma’. His version delights with crisp vocal intensities, rhythmic precision and dramatic relevance.
Special mention must be made of Hyeseoung Kwon’s evocative realism and continued penetrating singing as slave girl Liu. Her depiction of a love immune to fear echo well past her tragic scenes. The opera’s denouement continues to dazzle visually. Lindstrom and Lee plus hard-working ensemble close this opera with pleasing chemistry and vocal blend as love conquers fear.
Turandot plays at the Dame Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House, until July 28
For more about Opera Australia’s Turandot, visit http://opera.org.au