https://www.limelightmagazine.com.au/reviews/hansel-and-gretel-in-concert-melbourne-symphony-orchestra/

Published online at Limelight Magazine 29th November 2019


I don’t usually talk much about favourites but if I were to compile a list of my top 100 favourite operas, German composer Engelbert Humperdinck’s Hansel and Gretel would be somewhere in the broad mix. The effervescent melodies and folk tunes, evocative musical landscapes and darker interjections that characterise Humperdinck’s three-act work, loosely based on the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tale, tell the story with immeasurable appeal. It premiered in Weimar on December 23, 1893, under the baton of Richard Strauss no less, and was an instant success. Often staged in the holiday seasons at Christmas time, it remains one of the great joys of opera.

Even without a cottage in the woods and a witch’s mouth-watering gingerbread house, Melbourne Symphony Orchestra took to the stage on Thursday night as a formidable musical force, engaging the imagination with vivid storytelling. Under the direction of outgoing Chief Conductor Sir Andrew Davis, they were the stars of the night.

From its opening, with the plaintive brass notes that give way to warm strings resonating like wind in the trees, the overture moved forward with inspired handling. It signalled what was to come as Davis emphasised the romantic score’s emotionalism while taking great care not to overegg its dramatic component. Part of the score’s dramatic workings come from Humperdinck’s synthesis of Wagnerian techniques, notably the use of leitmotifs, and every time they reappeared, their confidently delivered form resonated. If you are familiar with Wagner’s Fafner and Fasolt, you would swear they were lurking in the witch’s dark forest.

Sung in German with English surtitles, they were joined by Americans mezzo-soprano Elizabeth DeShong as Hansel and soprano Laura Wilde as Gretel. The pair may not have been matched in height but these two expressive and pleasantly contrasting singers showed it wasn’t going to be an entirely static affair.

Dainty but direct and sensible, with a skip to her Gretel, Wilde brought ample brightness and feeling to her lines, though there was an occasional loss of clarity in the lower reaches of the voice. The unhurried and free-flowing nature Wilde brought to "There Stands a Little Man" charmed immensely and the beauty she could gather in the voice, turning it into powerful intent, was on splendid show as she woke up Hansel with some tickling.

DeShong’s Hansel was a little more moody and much more the scallywag. Singing with rich fruity assortment and sturdy support, DeShong delved deep and chartered high with a fullness in sound that resonated impressively. When it came to having to spend the night in the forest, DeShong could just as easily shine in the softest of territory. Together with Wilde, their "Evening Prayer" became a pearl encrusted gossamer veil in one of the most heavenly renditions possible. Davis underlined it sensitively, the silken strings leading magnificently to the Dream Sequence in a musical journey of adventure and tension that closed Act 2 before interval.

Returning home with a bagful of food to feed his impoverished family, James Clayton was commanding as the Father. He arrived muscularly voiced with a swagger in delivery, comically revealing that Humperdinck’s librettist and sister, Adelheid Wette, surely never wrote “Stone the crows. It’s Vegemite” into the libretto. With his towering oaky bass, Clayton was especially primed as he gave a gripping account of the witches on their broomsticks in the forest, cutting through the orchestra with a fearful blade of sound.

As the Mother, mezzo-soprano Elizabeth Campbell wielded her mothering skills with an iron fist and it reflected in her steely mezzo-soprano but, sadly, the bulkiness of the music felt lost. As the Witch, you expected a performance with panache when Brisbane-born Finnish tenor Topi Lehtipuu showed up in Act 3 blonde-wigged and gaudily shimmering in drag. It was a hoot. Nonetheless, the wig had difficulty staying on and Lehtipuu’s mostly wiry delivery left the Witch lacking convincing menace. As both the Dew Fairy and Sandman, Stacey Alleaume was a jewel-like sparkle, her soprano clear and penetrating from the left choir stalls as she looked down on the siblings. The combined National Boys Choir of Australia and Australian Girls Choir, singing from the rear as children liberated from a gingerbread life, were in angelic unison.

The orchestra maintained an excellent level of playing, the brass polished and balanced, the percussion distinctive and the woodwinds slithering through with flights of vitality while the reinforced strings were superbly meshed. It seemed odd and ill-conceived, however, presenting such a delicious delight without some form of semi-staged effort. As a fairy-tale most children will learn about, it was a shame no provision was made for their enjoyment.

A comic charmer in a modern world premiere of a baroque rarity arrives in lively flamboyant style from San Francisco’s Ars Minerva

In the latter part of the 17th century, Domenico Freschi no doubt sermonised his Roman Catholic beliefs as a priest in the northern Italian town of Vicenza. He was also maestro di cappella at the Cathedral of Vicenza, writing church music for the parishioners. The young man of the cloth had a side job too, as a composer of at least 16 known operas - though known to very few today. But in comes San Francisco’s Ars Minerva and Freschi gets some decidedly expert attention in a work that shimmies along in a delightful evening of music and storytelling in flamboyant style and deliciously sung form.

Nikola Printz as Ermelinda 

What is notable about Ermelinda, a 'dramma per musica' penned by Freschi and his librettist Francesco Maria Piccioli in 1680, is the economy of means by which the drama is drawn. The ternary ‘da capo’ form is absent and action is briskly carried forward with dominant use of the ‘cavatina’, or short operatic arias. Plump with melodic charm, it’s all over within two easy hours, including a 20-minute interval, under Artistic Director Céline Ricci’s lively flowing direction.

It’s a comically charged story where lovers have hurdles to jump, love can be supposedly mad and deceptions reveal truths. Ermelinda is shuffled off to the countryside by her father Aristeo who, much like Verdi’s Rigoletto, intends to shield her from urban life’s temptations. Of course, it doesn’t work. Ermelinda’s secret lover, Prince Ormondo, has followed her. He’s disguised as Clorindo, a peasant, and is fortuitously invited to stay with the nobleman Armidoro. But Armidoro’s sister, Ermelinda’s friend Rosaura, takes a shine to Clorindo and Armidoro has a thing for Ermelinda. Twists and turns ensue in this pantomime of sorts on its way to a happy ending as Freschi entertainingly demonstrates a realist’s approach in a not so absurd set of circumstances. 

Sara Couden as Ormindo

We’re in Phoenicia, an apparently fabricated setting having no relationship with the ancient east Mediterranean ancient civilisation. Nonetheless, with designer Entropy’s evocatively rendered settings, Phoenicia reveals its bucolic attributes in projections integrated cleverly with the storytelling under Thomas Bowersox’s seductive lighting and its exotic flair with touches of Arabia in Matthew Nash’s masterful costumes. 

Up close and intimate, the performance shows itself as a beautifully cast unit with voice types transposed convincingly. For it, strong identity is given to the two female parts and two female voices take on male parts likely written for castrati. Ermelinda’s father Aristeo, a rather insipid character adorned by some handsomely crafted music, is sung in countertenor. Justin Montigne acquits himself commendably in the role, measuring his capabilities sensibly with his bright and crisp tone while a nervous twitch indicates a degree of madness of one trying to cure the madness of one acting it to conceal their identity and feelings - and it’s not that confusing!

Justin Montigne as Aristeo, Kindra Scharich as Rosaura
and Sara Couden as Ormindo 

Nudging ahead as most impressive, gloriously sonorous contralto Sara Couden’s Ormondo is an endearing sort - a prince doing his utmost to act like a bumpkin - and she interprets his part with hugely textured vocal appeal, one as rich as plum pudding, with lashings of comic aplomb to go with it.

In the title role, mezzo-soprano Nikola Printz is polished and plush in voice as a spirited and quick-thinking Ermelinda. Printz’s elegance of line and emotive calibration radiates splendidly in Ermelinda’s rickety journey to secure her love and you can’t help but follow her expressive eyes as she does so. Rosaura is a vivacious firecracker of a girl to whom mezzo-soprano Kindra Scharich makes a delightful and ostentatious floral concoction in voice and costume and, portraying a head-held-high aristocratic Armidoro as the third mezzo-soprano plying her trade, Deborah Rosengaus’ vocal radiance and refined wafer-like vibrato completes an uplifting evening of singing. 

Positioned in clear view to the side and humorously involved in the running, Grammy-nominated harpsichordist Jory Vinikour conducted five musicians from the keyboard giving balance and lilt to the score. Together with Gretchen Claassen on cello and Adam Cockerham on theorbo, the most consistent and emotive music emanated. A small quibble but a little more warmth from the smaller strings would have added increased fluidity.

Fancy, though, sitting down to experience an opera that hasn’t been staged since its premiere season almost 340 years ago. In this modern world premiere as part of Ars Minerva’s fifth annual production of such rarities, another piece of history that builds the story of opera has left the museum and made its mark in present times.

Ermelinda

Ars Minerva

B.Way Theatre, 3153 17th Street San Francisco

Until 24th November 2019

Production Photos: Teresa Tam

Graeme Murphy's rhythmically alive Turandot returns to Melbourne with impressive musical quality

https://www.heraldsun.com.au/entertainment/arts/turandot-full-of-drama-and-tragedy/news-story/d030e5b8a75c68310802f92078652e5a

Published online at Herald Sun 20th November and in print 21st November 2019

When Opera Australia’s near 30-year -old production of Turandot opened on Tuesday night, many might have thought director Graeme Murphy’s dark and dynamic work was seeing its last days. Word has it, however, that there aren’t any plans yet to replace it for the company’s new utilisation of high-definition LED screens.

Lise Lindstom as Turandot, Walter Fraccaro as Calaf 

In its latest revival under director Kim Walker, the opera’s exotic theatrical fantasy is boldly underlined. From the start, when a crowd of oppressed citizens create waves of movement across the stage, rhythmical continuity becomes key to its success. Murphy’s choreographic skills are put to effective use even though patches can feel dated.

Ribbons of blood, waving banners, threatening swords and towering figures of rule set the scene in ancient Peking. The plot revolves around solving three riddles that would give a prince the right to marry an ice-hearted princess. Almost entirely, Puccini’s music creates the drama in what is a rather emotionally meagre story. For it, Christian Badea’s bold, tension-building approach to the score was a winner, as was Orchestra Victoria’s excellence.

Walter Fraccaro as Calàf, Christopher Hillier as Ping,
John Longmuir as Pong and Virgilio Marino as Pang

The singing was impressive too. As Turandot, when soprano Lise Lindstrom proclaimed “No man will ever own me!”, she brought out the full force of long- harboured anguish and seemingly sang for all women. In a reminder of her searing 2016 OA Ring’s Brünnhilde, Lindstrom’s vocal power burned long and intensely with no shortage of nuance and fluidity to go with it in this demanding role. An impassioned heart and voice accompanied tenor Walter Fraccaro’s renegade Calaf. Not every phrase was sealed with the chiaroscuro beauty he portrayed but Act 3’s renowned opening Nessun dorma! certainly sealed his audience’s approval.

In a tragic consequence of circumstances, soprano Karah Son was a standout as a poignantly sung Liù, the slave girl who sacrifices her life for Calaf. The choruses sang with thrilling purpose and Christopher Hillier, Virgilio Marino and John Longmuir nailed their parts splendidly in voice and manoeuvres as a highly experienced trio of imperial ministers. Given that Turandot doesn’t sing a note until the middle of Act 2, they just about steal the show.


Turandot 
Opera Australia
State Theatre, Arts Centre Melbourne
Until December 6

4-stars

Production Photos: Jeff Busby

Hansel and Gretel’s purposeful storytelling and magical transition releases its charm at San Francisco Opera

In a family-friendly mix of good and evil and a delightful touch of hocus pocus, Engelbert Humperdinck’s most familiar opera, Hansel and Gretel, opened in a new production for San Francisco Opera on Friday night. Co-produced with London’s Royal Opera and both directed and designed by Antony McDjonald, the work pours out a good measure of more relaxed opera entertainment as the holiday season approaches.

Sasha Cooke as Hansel and Heidi Stober as Gretel 

That’s not to say that Humperdinck approached this Grimm brothers’ fairytale lightly. There’s so much glorious space to bask in with Humperdinck’s tapestry of meandering and effervescent melodies, musical landscapes and darker interjections to match the intensity of the heavyweight master of Bayreuth, Richard Wagner. And German librettist Adelheid Wette’s translated and sung English text for this two-hour, three-act 1893 opera is a rhyming cracker. 

McDonald has taken the more traditional and folkloric conceptual path and added characters of requisite largesse and vitality to its picture. A cuckoo clock that winds time from good times to poor above a proscenium-filled framed alpine setting sets the story in motion. It’s a cosy start that leads into the reality of Hansel and Gretel’s shirked at chore-ridden day. That the magic is kept at bay until Act 2’s evocative forest scene, one in which Hansel and Gretel’s dream becomes a wonderfully woven story of fairytale characters, is understandable. If not for Lucy Burge’s amusingly choreographed routines in Act 1 the kids of the audience might have demanded more. 

Michaela Martens as Mother and Alfred Walker as Father 

But then madness is mixed with magic in Act 3 when the witch’s house in the forest appears in a reference to Hitchcock’s  creepy Psycho mansion - a cake, in fact, with a giant knife sliced through the top. By this time, you can see how McDonald has purposefully transitioned the storytelling. After a fabulously sticky chocolatey end for the witch, it comes to land gently on the released children, angelically sung, in a thankfully not too bombastic god-guiding end of prayer’s value.

On opening night, mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke was a clear standout, rich and resonant of voice as the more pragmatic Hansel and full of adorable cheekiness to go with it. Soprano Heidi Stober added radiance as the sensible and dreamy Gretel, producing the magnificent fullness of a soaring top but bogged down at times by fuzzy diction and phrasing that dissipated in the lower parts of the voice. Importantly, the operatic pair appear in their element as nimble young siblings who are more or less struggling with but learning to balance responsibility with easy-come fun and adventure.

Dream pantomime tableau from Hansel and Gretel

As the parents trying to balance their own issues, dark mezzo-soprano Michaela Martens and earthy baritone Alfred Walker were a powerful blend of contrast and connection with Martens giving tenor Robert Brubaker’s raggedly sung psychotic witch a run for his money in conjuring up menace. Ashley Dixon was invitingly warm as the Sandman and Natalie Image sprinkled her charms as the Dew Fairy.

Overall, however, some attention seemed needed from the cast in projecting more consistently and smoothly. And, despite the gorgeously pronounced patches of expansive music under the baton of Christopher Franklin, the music occasionally ran its own show. With a three-week performance run to come, there’s wriggle room for tweaking such details. Hansel and Gretel is one of the great operatic joys of opera and once seen and heard, as little nippers sing out for, it’s hard not to imagine its story told in any other way.

Hansel and Gretel 

San Francisco Opera 

War Memorial Opera House

Until 7th December 2019

Production Photos: Cory Weaver

Captivating music of the highest order with Simone Young conducting the San Francisco Symphony

At Thursday night’s San Francisco Symphony concert at Davies Symphony Hall, in an hour-long resplendent vocal dramatisation, Act 1 of Richard Wagner’s Die Walküre headlined the program. And with it, the ongoing exhilaration and wide-ranging temperament achieved in the score certainly would have left many wide-eyed and open-mouthed patrons hungry for the whole lengthy lot. On display was an extraordinary showcase of meaningful singing and captivating music of the highest order.

Stuart Skelton, Simone Young, Emily Magee and Ain Anger

It was great to see American soprano Emily Magee and Estonian bass Ain Anger perform again to remind me of their great gift of expressiveness. But, as a visitor from way way down south, how grand it was to see two Aussies together on the concert stage with heldentenor Stuart Skelton alongside Simone Young commandeering a right marvel.

Skelton sung the role of Siegmund with unshakable, heroic strength in a voice surely at its finest, a voice that captured seemingly infinite nuance of statement, inquiry and thought and that was as intoxicating to the ear as it was gripping for the soul. “Wälse! Wälse! ... Nothung! Nothung!” More! More of that extraordinary sound please, was what the audience seemed to want. With a Skelton kind of ferocity - sitting at the edge of my seat just a few metres away - it seemed every aching desire a human pleads for felt like it could be summoned with ease. And Skelton’s superlative preparation and experience meant he could do without the hindrance of a music stand.

A radiant voiced Emily Magee lived her Sieglinde heart and soul, lifting the high notes to beautifully formed treasures and communicating her condition with utmost exactness. Though not as solid in the depths of chesty lows, Magee’s was a convincing and stunning performance that presented robust and sensitive handling alongside Skelton’s heft.

Simone Young conducting the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra 

Ain Anger! Well, what a handsome presence and, with it, what a strapping fine voice he drenched his audience in!  Anger left no stone unturned in bringing out all the tension and menacing undercurrent in Hunding’s character and did so with such unselfconscious suavity.

The music breathed its internal restlessness and poignancy under Young’s vigour and gestural voluptuousness. In the first part of the program Richard Strauss’ Metamorphosen, however much of a contrast it provided, never felt overshadowed. Composed late in life during the end of World War II, it received just as much love from Young and the versatile players of the San Francisco Symphony. Metamorphosen built its appeal over its 26 minute duration to become an absorbing work as it bleeds from the solemn and introspective to yearning for optimism and closing sense of tranquility. In a work orchestrated for 23 stringed instruments, an experience was created that exposed the inner polish of its many layers through impressive drift and charge of the tempi. And the musicians played superbly, both like soloists and synchronisers as they spun it all into rich textures.

Perhaps it was never going to be surprising that this concert ended as one of those nights in the year when one gets smothered in such an illuminating confluence  of forces. On top of that it became a further reminder that art and humankind are indeed a blessed pair.

Simone Young Conducts Wagner

San Francisco Sympathy 

Davies Symphony Hall

Until 16th November 2019

Performance Photos: Stefan Cohen

Scaled down on a shoestring, Melbourne's BK Opera brings the tragedy home in Puccini's La bohème

Since 2016, BK Opera have been working at grassroots level with emerging artists in bringing opera to audiences in a wide range of performance spaces with no ounce of snobbery attached. Concluding its third full season (the little company presents around three productions each year), Artistic Director Kate Millet has taken on Puccini’s 1896 premiered popular work, La bohème, and swung it into the 1950s with a sharp sense of immediacy. You’re up close and intimate in the cosy ambience of another new venue for this itinerant band and, despite being a little ragged at the edges, it’s a stark reminder that operatic storytelling exists on so many scales.

Belinda Dalton as Mimi, James Penn as Rodolfo and
Jordan Auld as Musetta

Millet’s pared production is sung with passion whilst delivered on a shoestring in its telling of the central tragic love story of the ailing seamstress Mimi and struggling poet Rodolfo. And although it might be stretching things in believing you’re amongst the salons and cafes of 1950s Paris, you certainly get the impression that they and their bohemian friends are just as well dealing with the blows of young love and life as much as young adults amongst us do today.

Belinda Dalton is an excellently cast Mimi and well worth the ticket alone. Dalton’s Mimi is alert, sensitive and carries a deeply felt inner strength that provides thoughtful contrast to her tuberculosis-stricken petite frame. Vocally, Dalton colours and texturises her music attractively with a notable purity of tone and appealing modulation to accompany it, carrying it seamlessly through until the final act’s teary end.

Tenor James Penn, exchanging his usual lead as conductor for lead character, is an ardent, edgy and excitable Rodolfo, Mimi’s sentimental and self-confessed jealous lover. The chemistry Penn shares with Dalton doesn’t always spark and there’s a tendency to force the vocal lines but there are many moments of genuine feeling that waft out on his more subtly produced singing.

Daniel Felton as Schaunard and the cast of BK Opera's La bohème

On the other hand, there are no shortage of sparks between suave baritone Andrew Alesi and radiant soprano Jordan Auld as the hot-headed painter Marcello and flirtatious Musetta respectively, Auld making a particularly alluring example of a woman not to be messed with.

As the philosopher Colline, bass Peter Tregear sings a compellingly solemn sayonara to his dearly loved coat and, as the musician Schaunard, smooth baritone Daniel Felton is a nimble presence without the flamboyance in style you would generally see. And, in a decidedly clever act of casting the bohemian’s landlord Benoit and Musetta’s wealthy old lover Alcindoro as two archetypal opposite females rolled into one part, alto Alicia Groves provides a sweet injection.

Puccini’s masterfully painted shifts of sweeping melody, dramatic rises and abrupt shocks, however, rarely lift off the page. On opening, it didn’t matter how agile and competent around the keyboard Pam Christie was or how conductor Joseph Hie moved the night along, the lack of warmth, richness and resonance in the music was disappointing. The translated titles projected on the back wall weren’t behaving either and disappeared for long lengths of time, although some such things are a minor blot on the stage. Still, it’s opera with a big heart and a welcome part of Melbourne’s scene.


La bohème 
BK Opera
Wesley Anne
250 High Street, Northcote
Until 21st November 2019


Production Photos: Courtesy of BK Opera

In director Olivier Tambosi’s energised revival, Puccini’s Manon Lescaut returns splendidly to San Francisco Opera

The narrative gaps in Puccini’s Manon Lescaut are hard not to find fault with. In director Olivier Tambosi’s production, however, they can almost feel forgotten as part of its attractive and energised revival at San Francisco Opera. Tambosi gives powerful padding to its themes and an excellent team of singers presented characters of surprisingly impressive dimensionality.

Lianna Haroutounian as Manon and Zhengyi Bai as the Dancing Master

In its four-part episodic story of brisk circumstantial changes, Manon’s desire to romp about riches could easily have the affect of distancing her from the audience’s heart. On the brink of being shuffled into a convent before being swept off her feet by the impassioned student Chevalier des Grieux, to a life of luxury in the clutches of old Geronte di Revoir, Manon falls back again in the embrace of love with des Grieux. In Albanian soprano Lianna Haroutounian’s superbly nuanced performance of the title role, however, Manon’s desire for wealth and her vanity pale significantly against a foreground of disenfranchised and abused women by self-entitled men of which she is the unfortunate figurehead. 

Haroutounian delved deep and soared powerfully with a glistening top range that sung of Manon’s flightiness, desperation and predicament. Manon Lescaut marks Haroutounian’s fourth role debut for San Francisco Opera, one in which her combined conviction and richness of voice cemented her stature on Puccini’s tragically drawn women. At first showing reluctance to look into des Grieux’s eyes, Haroutounian gave Manon a sense of aloofness and reveals her feelings measuredly to go hand in hand with Puccini’s music. Each new episode brings a compelling dramatic turn and Haroutounian emblazoned them all with operatic splendour. Manon’s Act 2 aria reflecting on the cheerful and secluded cottage with des Grieux was a particularly heartfelt reflection and a performance highlight in which she demonstrated extraordinary ability to manoeuvre through core emotional territory with vocal dexterity. But Haroutounian’s best was to come, on the way showing no signs of waning, in the gravity of Act 4’s “Sola, perduta, abbandonata”, where, alone in the desert as des Grieux searches for water, she contemplates her beauty and fate.

Lianna Haroutounian as Manon and Brian Jagde as Des Grieux

In Manon, des Grieux sees more, drawn to her by both her beauty and a heart hidden by sadness and to whom American tenor Brian Jagde gave vocal force of Himalayan magnificence. Manon’s destiny lies hopelessly in the hands of others and while des Grieux presses into her life as a welcome hero, even he cannot alter a course of doom. In Abbé Prévost’s novel of 1731 novel L'histoire du chevalier des Grieux et de Manon Lescaut, on which the opera is based, des Grieux even precipitates it. 

Forceful without showiness and having the physical presence that matters, Jagde whipped up unstoppable gusto as the valiant young man as emotions cascaded in thoughtfully targeted singing. With a tingling and wowing “Pazzo son!” that closed Act 3, as the captain of the ship sees des Grieux’s grief, Jagde gave substance to a moment in life when things change in a flash and let loose the greatest emotive highlight of opening night.

Philip Skinner as Geronte and
Anthony Clark Evans as Lescaut

Once baritone Anthony Clark Evans revved up a low range that sank out of audibility, the full range and muscularity of his instrument was on handsome display as Manon’s chameleon-natured brother, Lescaut. In grand, smouldering bass-baritone form, Philip Skinner added giant sized character to an old ox Geronte, only marginally staving off a heart attack in his lust for Manon. Adler Fellows Christopher Oglesby, Ashley Dixon and Zhengyi Bai acquitted themselves finely with Oglesby bringing youthful swagger to Edmondo and Bai making an especially sumptuous turn as the Dancing Master. It wasn’t a night to revel in for the usually reliable chorus, however, as timings faltered and textures sagged. 

What never seemed to disappoint was former San Francisco Opera music director Nicola Luisotti’s guiding hand in bringing much translucency and weight to the score. The warmly applauded intermezzo before Act 3 was a notably splendid affair that elicited reflection on the journey taken and on what would come.

As the production goes, Tambosi ups the frivolity with wit and the emotional barometer with agency as the plot heads towards a tragedy that has little chance of avoidance. In Frank Philipp Schlössmann’s marvellous scenic design, alluding to the story’s second half of the 18th century setting, Act 1 is a lively procession of village activity and Act 2’s stately blue boudoir in Geronte's house in Paris is busier than Bourke Street as all the comings and goings bore the pampered Manon. The gloom that hangs over Act 3’s setting near the harbour in Le Havre reveals the horror and indignity that brands a fallen woman and Act 4 is a heart wrenching end on the sparse set of the Louisiana plains, even if not one of the five librettists credited with the libretto explain how the pair end up there fighting death. 

The narrative nuts and bolts, in the end, are well taken care of by Puccini. While Manon Lescaut doesn’t share the same dramatic mastery that was to come in later works, there are reminders aplenty in its score of the riches these future works harbour. 


Manon Lescaut
San Francisco Opera
War Memorial Opera House
Until 26th November 2019


Production Photos: Cory Weaver