THE CONSUL
Gertrude Opera
Friday 23rd May 2014, Fortyfivedownstairs, Melbourne

Glaston Toft as the Secret Police Chief

In a downtown Melbourne basement, accessed via three flights of timber stairs, a remarkable little production of Gian Carlo Menotti's, The Consul, blasted the hard, white-washed walls of a theatre space and bar known as Fortyfivedownstairs. Presented by Gertrude Opera including young artists from The Opera Studio Melbourne, the production is bare but their voices are large, their energy is strong and both their individual and collective accomplishments are notable.

A full house of more than 100 enthusiastic patrons attended the last night of four performances. Champers flowed gratis after the performance and innuendo-laced nominations provided additional entertainment as Bill Gillies, Chair of the Board of Management,  presented “alternative Green Room Awards”. Far more serious was the evening’s performance though.                                                            

 Both composer and librettist, Gian Carlo Menotti based the story of The Consul, unusually, on a 1947 newspaper report about the suicide of a Polish emigrant after being refused a visa to the USA. The Consul was Menotti’s first full opera, premiering in 1950 in Philadelphia and going on to achieve enormous international success.

Director, Theresa Borg, drew solid, nuanced performances from the entire cast, making real a world weighing down on their upturned lives. On a low black platform, sparsely furnished with a few rudimentary pieces and a backdrop that resembled an oversized clear shower curtain, Peter Corrigan’s scant set design still did the trick. That said, the platform often creaked its way into the evening’s more subdued moments. Greg Carroll’s crisp lighting design worked well with the curtain to create depth and drama, while costumes, also by Corrigan, adequately evoked hard times.

Linda Thompson as Magda Sorel

But the real praise goes to the cast. Linda Thompson portrayed the desperate and agonized character of Magda Sorel with real immensity and first-rate vocal colour. As John Sorel, Magda’s husband and political revolutionary, young artist, Eugene Raggio, displayed both fear and determination in his struggle for his family’s safety, handsomely voiced though requiring greater fluidity of movement on stage. As John’s mother, Kerrie Ann Bolton exhibited the home-grounding force of love with warmth and tenderness, her calming, beautifully rendered lullabies aptly combatting the tension. With stern officiousness and vocal bite, Belinda Prakhoff’s depiction of the Consulate secretary (both exerting power yet having none) was both demonstrative and entertaining. It will be hard to ever forget the regularity of her typewriting and her indifferent verbalisation of “Next”!

In his operatic debut as the Secret Chief of Police, Glaston Toft boomed with penetrating effect right from the start. Filling out the waiting room of “misfits” at the Consulate, Simon Meadows, as Mr Kofner, dramatised his own helplessness monumentally as he assisted his fellow applicants unselfishly and in fine voice as the magician, Blake Bowden moved with ease and cast his spell magnetically. The performance was rounded out expertly by, Adrian McEniery as Assan together with young artists Rada Tochalna as the foreign woman, Tamzyn Alexander as Vera, Alexandra Lidgerwood, as Anna Gomez and Damien Noyce as the policeman.

Under all this vocal strength, Menotti’s music cushioned the drama admirably under conductor, Rick Prakhoff’s command and Katherine Day’s inexhaustible dexterity on the grand piano, even if at times it faded a little too far into the background. Finally, solid chorus work and clear enunciation assisted the drama, though the recitatives occasionally lacked tightness and consistency.

Simon Meadows, Rada Tochalna and Belinda Prakhoff

With a similar sense of oppression and morbidity persisting in both, I couldn't help but draw a parallel between The Consul and Alban Berg's heavy-handed 1925 psychological drama, Wozzeck. So I found myself mentally building a cast list from the talented team at Gertrude
Opera even before the performance was over, certain they could equally pull off Berg's masterpiece. Perhaps it won’t be long before they do. In the meantime, Gertrude Opera’s production of Mozart’s The Magic Flute is something to look forward to.


Photos courtesy of Gertrude Opera

DON CARLOS
Composer: Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901)

Theater die Chemnitz, Germany
9th March 2014

After seeing a magnificent and memorable opera performance, over time details might be forgotten, but traces of that experience will attach themselves lovingly to your heart. This is exactly what Chemnitz Oper is likely to achieve for audiences who come to see this artistic accomplishment, Don Carlos. If Giuseppe Verdi had written just one opera and it was this one, his greatness as a 19th Century composer of opera would be just as valid. Don Carlos is exceptional grand opera, a glowing masterpiece in the opera repertoire and one that must be seen by anyone with even a slight interest in opera. This production honours Verdi suitably.

Don Carlos is a long opera in 4 acts, being Verdi's shortened Milan version of 1884, after originally being premiered in 1867 in 5 acts together with a ballet. You might think that the four act version at almost four hours still asks a great deal of attention from the audience but its story is wonderfully intriguing and the Chemnitz Oper production successfully paces it with clever stagecraft to exact a magnificently spellbinding experience.

Don Carlos is the heir to the Spanish throne, betrothed to and in love with Elizabeth of Valois, daughter of the King of France. His father, King Phillip II, however, decides to marry her himself as part of a peace treaty after the war with France. Alongside this heartbreaking arrangement bubbles a story infused with political tension, in regards to the treatment of the people of Flanders, which Spain is ruling, and the at times uncomfortable tug-of-war between Church and State.

Historically, the action takes place in the middle of the 16th Century but this bold production positions us somewhere in the middle of 20th Century Spain, thereby referencing the dictatorship under Francisco Franco. This loose reference alone is enough to dramatise on stage the multi-faceted tensions that are being played out. It even helps to make it apparent that the purpose here is not necessarily to relate an episode in history but use it to take us on a journey through both emotional and behavioural experiences and responses.

Producer, Helen Malkowsky and Set/Costume Designer Kathrin-Susann Brose, have created a work of real collaborative styling. The unfolding drama was beautifully intertwined over its numerous scenes utilising a revolving stage, which incorporated both simple, yet intricately intimate spaces, as well as formal rooms. The one anomaly appeared in the first scene of Act 2, which ineffectively introduced a projected slide backdrop of a verdant grove which distracted from the muted tones of the overall staging. The costuming exuded an elegant and sophisticated era of the mid 20th Century, of a decade not quite easily pinpointed but harmoniously blended in soft hues of ivory, sage and buttercup for the ladies of the court, cobalt and black for the noblemen and scarlet for the clerics. Against soft lilac-grey partitioned spaces adorned with black trim, together with evocative yet unfussy lighting, the overall result was a strikingly creative and appealing combination.

The orchestra under the baton of Conductor, Frank Beermann, brought out the wide-ranging emotional colours, which both the music and story demand. Evident was a consistent balance of power in the pit and even in the bombastic moments of musical showmanship the orchestra never drained or overwhelmed the action on stage. The musicians shone especially brilliantly in the absolute glory of the Act 2 "Spuntato Ecco Il Di D'Esultanza", a 10-minute feast of the majestic, funereal and melodramatic. Likewise, the members of the chorus, a staple of many a Verdi opera, sang with shining confidence throughout this second act.

It was the female principals that won the night on consistency, dramaturgy and vocal accuracy. Armenian soprano, Karine Babajanyan, as Elisabeth of Valois, sang with great clarity and finesse, her range ascending from the hollowness of a forest trunk to the sweetness of honey, especially evident in the Act 1 aria "Non Piangar, Mia Compagna". Russian mezzo-soprano, Anna Danik sang the role of Princess Eboli, a Spanish aristocrat, herself in love with Don Carlos. In her rendition of the noted arias "Nel Giardin Del Bello" of Act 1 and "O Don Fatale" of Act 3, Danik was in every way astounding, singing with both a vibrant and delicate elasticity.

The tender friendship between Don Carlos and the Marquis of Posa, who has returned from Flanders with news of the mistreatment of the people under the Spanish, did not always hit the mark in its portrayal but the voices, however, embraced their sentiments. The Finnish tenor, Christian Juslin, as Don Carlos was firm and commanding in voice, with Korean baritone, Adam Kim, as the Marquis of Posa, rendering an equally, solid warmth, though noticeably uneven and strained in his upper range. Their signature duet "Dio, Che Nell'Alma Infodere", of Act 1, incorporating a musical theme which visits the opera regularly, was wonderfully strident. The later Act 3 scene, in which Posa is comforted in death by his friend, appeared marginally uncomfortable and sadly unravelled the unifying effect of their vocal strengths. The bass of Kouta Rasanen in the role of The Grand Inquisitor was suitably full of power and chillingly expressive, while Tuomas Pursio, as King Phillip II, displayed both vocal prowess and strength in his character.

Incorporating two intervals to enjoy a drink, mingle and discuss the opera, the evening may be long but is by no means tiresome. This production is a magnificent achievement by the Chemnitz Oper and truly informs us of the immense quality a small German regional city can offer. Bravi Tutti!

LA TRAVIATA
Victorian Opera
20th May 2014, Her Majesty’s Theatre


Violetta Valéry, the celebrated but accursed whore of Giuseppe Verdi's 1853 opera, has partied, loved and died a tragic death on countless stages for well over a century. In spectacular fashion, her story is retold once again here in Melbourne in this Victorian Opera production, both personalising Violetta’s plight poignantly and monumentalising Verdi’s classic enduringly.

The talents of director, Henning Brockhaus, and visionary set designer, the late Josef Svoboda, manifest a collaborative harmony not often felt. First seen in 1992 in Macerata, Italy and presented in association with Fondazione Pergolesi Spontini, their glittering production is labelled, “Traviata of the Mirrors”.

Anticipatory silence precedes the raising of Her Majesty’s Theatre’s red velvet curtain as two lonely spotlights direct their shaft into a dark void. The first notes emanate from the pit and an immense mirror rises. Both theatrically and musically, there is an immediate sense of calculated precision. Then the Victorian Opera Chamber Orchestra, led out under Conductor Richard Mills' expert guidance, never let go.

As Verdi’s music pumps the first party at Violetta’s Paris salon in Act One, a kaleidoscopic world entertains. Imagine the visual splendour of the great 18th Century decorative painter, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo (the NGV’s current winter exhibition, Italian Masterpieces from Spain’s Royal Court, will inform), and you realise one such masterpiece lies before you. With strikingly elegant costumes by Giancarlo Colis, the reflections, colour and foreshortening dazzle the entire proscenium as the mirror and stage action gradually become one. Even the limitations of left and right stage entry and exit paths on a singularly flat stage are camouflaged by the simplicity of such inspired artistry.

All this vibrancy on stage never impedes a clear rendering of the story, based on the play La dame aux Camélias (1852), adapted from a novel by Alexandre Dumas, fils. Clear enunciation of Francesco Maria Piave’s Italian libretto is assisted by three prominent screens, which provide the English translation. With the entire cast adding to a seamless performance, even the occasional speck of unsteady acting and overzealous fainting couldn’t tarnish the overall impact.

As Violetta, Jessica Pratt glided and fluttered with ease in a musical world of extraordinary heights and deep crevices, drawing us into Violetta’s world convincingly. On the back of her recent Teatro alla Scala success as Lucia in Lucia di Lammermoor, Pratt’s highlights are many, but her Act Two, Scene One encounter with Giorgo Germont is compelling. As she reluctantly sacrifices her attempt at a new, unsullied country existence (in severe matronly attire to prove it), Pratt superbly depicts Violetta’s unexpected fragility and her struggle to gain respect.

Tenor, Alessandro Scotto di Luzio is exemplary in his portrayal of Alfredo Germont, Violetta’s admirer and recipient of her love. Exhibiting a voice of striking dexterity and pathos, Scotto di Luzio’s fine performance even dances in his eyebrows. Together with Pratt, the duo impress with interlocking vocal subtleties and dynamic strength, intertwined subliminally in their final act “Parigi, o cara, noi lasceremo”.

Completing the potent trio, Jose Carbo, as Alfredo's father, Giorgio Germont, displays every bit a fighter for respectability while subtly exposing the finest grain of hypocrisy. In a rich, broad baritone voice, Carbo lets loose exceptional legato and a pulsating resonance though occasionally exposing a rawness at the edge of his highest range.

Dimity Shepherd sparkles with a voice that comfortably matches her character, Flora, Violetta's accomplice in salacious entertainment. Nathan Lay as Barone Douphol and Jeremy Kleeman as Marchese d’Obigny also stand out amongst the strong, polished performances from the supporting soloists, while the Victorian Opera Chorus adds another triumph from their wardrobe of roles.

As Violetta approaches death in the final moments, we also feel both her despair in death and her joy in having felt love being returned. Then the massive mirror slowly rises to reflect the theatre's human warmth and I pondered, what is the significance of this final stunning effect? I decided that it demonstrates our collective force, visiting Violetta to offer our love to her in much the same way as Alfredo and Giorgio do in their final conciliatory visit. It also seems to bring us back to the present after an evening's journey into a realm of intensely hypnotic theatre.

FAUST: Opera Hong Kong (Review)

Saturday, 10th May 2024
Grand Theatre, Hong Kong Cultural Centre

Presented as part of Le French May Arts Festival and in a co-production with Opéra Nice Côte d’Azur, Opéra Grand Avignon and Opéra Théâtre de Saint-Étienne, Opera Hong Kong’s spirited staging of Charles Gounod’s Faust exemplified once again the enthusiasm and dedication of this non-profit organization established 11 years ago.

Premiering in 1859 at the Théâtre-Lyrique in Paris, Faust depicts the battle between good and evil, telling the story of the ageing scholar, Doctor Faust, who sells his soul to the Devil in exchange for youth after being tempted by an image of the beautiful young Marguerite. With a libretto by Jules Barbier and Michel Carré, it is based on Carré’s tragic play Faust et Marguerite from 1850, which owed its inspiration to Faust, Part 1, by the great German writer, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Gounod’s music is a subliminal expression of the romantic, sacred and profane, furnished with rich melodies and grand choral scenes. Conductor, Benjamin Pionnier, sturdily led the Hong Kong Sinfonietta to exact a compelling performance of the score with particular praise for the brass section for their clarity and precision.

Director, Paul-Emile Fourny’s circumspect interpretation, together with set and costume designs by Poppi Ranchetti produced a splendorous setting for Gounod’s gamut of glorious music. A subtle mix of influences shaped the numerous scenes comprising the opera’s five acts, both intimately and ethereally brought to form with lighting designer, Jacques Chatelet’s expertise. Constant throughout each scene was an obliquely arranged series of shallow steps to one side of the stage, smartly utilized for balancing both the large chorus scenes as well as the smaller, intimately directed ones. From the eerie, vaulted heights of Doctor Faust’s study and the haunting, monochromatic garden setting for Marguerite’s house, to the muted, sparing splash of colour capturing the imagery of the early years of tinted black and white photography, the stage was indeed riveting in form and dress.

The very strength provided by the visual setting, however, was not always matched in equal measure by the cast, from which some over-zealous acting included wild brawling, tumbles and rolls across the stage and a tad too much fainting. And as earnest as each of the principals were, a lack of synergy in their interactions undermined critical moments of emotional and dramatic intensity. This could have been due in part because the roles of Faust and Marguerite were performed for just one night by the alternate principals seen at this performance.

In the title role as Faust, tenor, Shawn Mathey, gave a fine performance but struggled to persuade that he’d ever fallen for the pure, protected and reserved Marguerite. Vocally, his middle range displayed a broad, handsome timbre but high notes were often constricted, burdening his ability to sustain an elegant length.

After an uneasy entrance, Kimy McLaren, in the soprano role of Margerite, faired beautifully in her tender portrayal of a woman both hesitant and eager to love, then horribly tormented by Faust’s desertion and her subsequent transfiguration. In an intimately crafted setting that begins Act Four, her rendition of “Il Ne Revient Pas”, ardently conveyed Marguerite’s anguish and betrayal.

Mephistopheles’s entertaining devil-bass, sung by Dimitry Ivashchenko, delivered the requisite power to grant, coerce, intimidate and inflict his ways to ruinous effect in a voice of sonorous strength and endurance. As Siebel, Marguerite’s adolescent lovesick and loyal companion, Carol Lin charmed with delightful boyish energy, though occasionally at the expense of vocal smoothness.

But it was Zhengzhong Zhou who was especially commendable on the night in the baritone role of Valentin, Margerite’s protective brother and victim to Faust’s sword in a dual. Receiving critical acclaim after standing in for Dimitri Hvorostovsky in the role of Valentin in a 2011 performance of Faust at London’s Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, he brought a headstrong tenacity to Valentin’s fervour in a resounding, warm baritone voice.

Varyingly portraying young women and matrons, labourers, a church choir, witches and demons, Opera Hong Kong’s large chorus of around sixty talented volunteers comfortably took to the broad stage to enact their parts. Though an overly abundant enthusiastic display of melodramatic behaviour at times distracted from the immediate action unfolding between the principals, their vocal competence is unquestionable but a little tightening on the reins to achieve greater expression and tone would elevate them further.

But for what was an accomplished performance peppered with a mild mix of incongruities, what must be said is that this wonderful contingent of talent emanating from Opera Hong Kong makes the city a worthy and exciting destination for opera when visiting Asia.

WOZZECK
Composer: Alban Berg (1885-1935)

13th March 2014
The Metropolitan Opera, New York


Sometimes we have to ask ourselves what we want from an experience at the opera. Wozzeck is by no means light entertainment but it certainly can be both enjoyed and appreciated. If it happens to be the first opera you attend (and mine was Dvorak’s Rusalka), it might benefit to do just a little homework beforehand to understand what to expect. Nevertheless, its 90-minute duration, consisting of three acts of five scenes each and performed without interval, can easily cast its frenetic energy and psychological insight into a memorable night’s journey.

Back in 1925, after its premiere at the Berliner Staatsoper, Wozzeck was an instant success, achieving a breakthrough for the new atonal musical structure in full-length opera and making Alban Berg, the composer, famous. The Metropolitan Opera premiere of Wozzeck was in 1959 and this current production by Mark Lamos, with designs by Robert Israel, premiered in 1997.

Franz Wozzeck is an officer in the military, subservient, troubled and an easy target of harassment by his superior, the Captain, as well as the Physician he visits to undergo medical experiments in order to support his wife and child. The ever-popular and highly adaptable American baritone, Thomas Hampson, created in voice and action a character of astonishing depth, a voice expressing a desperate struggle as he disintegrates into madness, virtually dragging us with him to the edge of a precipice where morality is left far behind.

Deborah Voight plays Marie, his wife, hopelessly guilt-ridden and seeking forgiveness from both heaven and husband after an affair with a local Drum-Major. Her unwelcome punishment is a vicious and brutal death at the hands of her psychologically disturbed husband. Voight's performance, like Hampson's, was strong and convincing. Demanding swift vocal agility and stage presence, her rendition of Marie’s plight was outstanding. Both the roles of the Captain, Peter Hoare, and the Physician, Clive Bayley, were executed robustly and harrowingly, deftly crushing Wozzeck’s being before us.

Musically, Wozzeck is oftentimes bold, boisterous and haunting, built on atonality and dissonance, which describes the unfolding drama precisely. This, after all, is a work that rests within the heart of German Expressionism. James Levine, associated as much with The Metropolitan Opera as opera itself, conducted with fluidity, force and ownership, enabling a richness of texture to fill the theatre with stereophonic layering. Of particular strength were the brass and percussion.

While the singers and musicians successfully presented the horrific story that Wozzeck is, not so successful was its visual interpretation for the stage. Robert Israel’s designs fell flat on the immensity of The Metropolitan stage. Unadorned, lofty grey partitions, minimal props and limited movement of sets between the 15 scenes seemed like insufficient offerings for the night. No attempt was made to elevate any of the action above the main stage to take full advantage of The Metropolitan’s 6-storey proscenium. Mostly unvarying, lighting was dark and gloomy, creating a world where the sun doesn’t shine and this, in combination with the monotony of the set, became tiresome. Furthermore, each of the 15 scenes concluded with the stage curtain being dropped, which felt too interruptive and too frequent for such short scenes. The one time the closing of the curtain was effective, was at the conclusion of the penultimate scene as Wozzeck took his own life, drowning in the same pond that became his wife’s grave. At this point a tempestuous musical epilogue created the moment for an opportunity to digest the story, giving the sense that the performance was over. Raising the curtain after this percussive soundscape for the final scene, in which children were seen playing near the pond where they discovered Marie’s body, was one of the few successful elements of the night’s staging.

If you can afford to sit in the Premium Orchestra (Stalls) section at $250, then you would be genuinely rewarded with the sensational dramatic interpretation acted out by the principal artists on stage. Unfortunately, this production is better suited to a small to medium-sized theatre. Challenging as it is for a theatre of colossal proportions, many an opportunity was sadly overlooked in bringing this masterpiece to the Metropolitan stage.

DON CARLOS
Composer: Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901)

Theater die Chemnitz, Germany
9th March 2014

After seeing a magnificent and memorable opera performance, over time details might be forgotten, but traces of that experience will attach themselves lovingly to your heart. This is exactly what Chemnitz Oper is likely to achieve for audiences who come to see this artistic accomplishment, Don Carlos. If Giuseppe Verdi had written just one opera and it was this one, his greatness as a 19th Century composer of opera would be just as valid. Don Carlos is exceptional grand opera, a glowing masterpiece in the opera repertoire and one that must be seen by anyone with even a slight interest in opera. This production honours Verdi suitably.

Don Carlos is a long opera in 4 acts, being Verdi's shortened Milan version of 1884, after originally being premiered in 1867 in 5 acts together with a ballet. You might think that the four act version at almost four hours still asks a great deal of attention from the audience but its story is wonderfully intriguing and the Chemnitz Oper production successfully paces it with clever stagecraft to exact a magnificently spellbinding experience.

Don Carlos is the heir to the Spanish throne, betrothed to and in love with Elizabeth of Valois, daughter of the King of France. His father, King Phillip II, however, decides to marry her himself as part of a peace treaty after the war with France. Alongside this heartbreaking arrangement bubbles a story infused with political tension, in regards to the treatment of the people of Flanders, which Spain is ruling, and the at times uncomfortable tug-of-war between Church and State.

Historically, the action takes place in the middle of the 16th Century but this bold production positions us somewhere in the middle of 20th Century Spain, thereby referencing the dictatorship under Francisco Franco. This loose reference alone is enough to dramatise on stage the multi-faceted tensions that are being played out. It even helps to make it apparent that the purpose here is not necessarily to relate an episode in history but use it to take us on a journey through both emotional and behavioural experiences and responses.

Producer, Helen Malkowsky and Set/Costume Designer Kathrin-Susann Brose, have created a work of real collaborative styling. The unfolding drama was beautifully intertwined over its numerous scenes utilising a revolving stage, which incorporated both simple, yet intricately intimate spaces, as well as formal rooms. The one anomaly appeared in the first scene of Act 2, which ineffectively introduced a projected slide backdrop of a verdant grove which distracted from the muted tones of the overall staging. The costuming exuded an elegant and sophisticated era of the mid 20th Century, of a decade not quite easily pinpointed but harmoniously blended in soft hues of ivory, sage and buttercup for the ladies of the court, cobalt and black for the noblemen and scarlet for the clerics. Against soft lilac-grey partitioned spaces adorned with black trim, together with evocative yet unfussy lighting, the overall result was a strikingly creative and appealing combination.

The orchestra under the baton of Conductor, Frank Beermann, brought out the wide-ranging emotional colours, which both the music and story demand. Evident was a consistent balance of power in the pit and even in the bombastic moments of musical showmanship the orchestra never drained or overwhelmed the action on stage. The musicians shone especially brilliantly in the absolute glory of the Act 2 "Spuntato Ecco Il Di D'Esultanza", a 10-minute feast of the majestic, funereal and melodramatic. Likewise, the members of the chorus, a staple of many a Verdi opera, sang with shining confidence throughout this second act.

It was the female principals that won the night on consistency, dramaturgy and vocal accuracy. Armenian soprano, Karine Babajanyan, as Elisabeth of Valois, sang with great clarity and finesse, her range ascending from the hollowness of a forest trunk to the sweetness of honey, especially evident in the Act 1 aria "Non Piangar, Mia Compagna". Russian mezzo-soprano, Anna Danik sang the role of Princess Eboli, a Spanish aristocrat, herself in love with Don Carlos. In her rendition of the noted arias "Nel Giardin Del Bello" of Act 1 and "O Don Fatale" of Act 3, Danik was in every way astounding, singing with both a vibrant and delicate elasticity. 

The tender friendship between Don Carlos and the Marquis of Posa, who has returned from Flanders with news of the mistreatment of the people under the Spanish, did not always hit the mark in its portrayal but the voices, however, embraced their sentiments. The Finnish tenor, Christian Juslin, as Don Carlos was firm and commanding in voice, with Korean baritone, Adam Kim, as the Marquis of Posa, rendering an equally, solid warmth, though noticeably uneven and strained in his upper range. Their signature duet "Dio, Che Nell'Alma Infodere", of Act 1, incorporating a musical theme which visits the opera regularly, was wonderfully strident. The later Act 3 scene, in which Posa is comforted in death by his friend, appeared marginally uncomfortable and sadly unravelled the unifying effect of their vocal strengths. The bass of Kouta Rasanen in the role of The Grand Inquisitor was suitably full of power and chillingly expressive, while Tuomas Pursio, as King Phillip II, displayed both vocal prowess and strength in his character.

Incorporating two intervals to enjoy a drink, mingle and discuss the opera, the evening may be long but is by no means tiresome. This production is a magnificent achievement by the Chemnitz Oper and truly informs us of the immense quality a small German regional city can offer. Bravi Tutti!