THE EIGHTH WONDER
THE EIGHTH WONDER or SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE – THE OPERA, Opera Australia and IFAC Handa on the Sydney Opera House Forecourt and Steps, 28 October-5 November 2015. Photography by Prudence Upton: above - the House and its story; below - Adam Frandsen; and below again - Stacey Alleaume
In the mid-1950s NSW Premier Joe Cahill, perhaps with a premonition of his imminent death, dreamed the unthinkable scheme – for a Catholic, working class, Sydney politician, that is. Wanting to be remembered for more than a practical but hideous expressway, he decided that the city should have an opera house.
This 1995 work from composer Alan John and librettist Dennis Watkins begins appropriately therefore with the outraged mutterings of bureaucrats, pollies, press and what passed for society: “Opera! Why opera?” Ironically but not surprisingly, it’s a question still being asked today, even though we have our opera house and it really is one of the wonders of the world.
The 1995 and 2000 productions – in the House itself – worked well enough but somehow lacked the magic and marvel the subject demanded. This new staging, however, is everything one might hope – for the building and the audience. It’s exciting, dramatic and finally – as the softly lit “sails” remind us that the story we’ve just witnessed actually came true – intensely moving.
Designer Dan Potra has incorporated the famous stairway to the sails into the staging with a series of interlocking white performance platforms that mirror the roof tiles. They slide back and forth across the width of the stairs on different levels, carrying politicians, socialites and decent folk and pushed by orange-overalled “building workers”. It’s a sneaky visual reminder of the class differences in egalitarian Australia.
The House’s life story is told chronologically, beginning with the emergence out of the twilight of the Spirits of Earth (Anna Yun) and Sky (Eva Kong) reminding us of who first inhabited Bennelong Point. Then, anyone who’s ever wondered why the base of the building reminds them of somewhere else, we’re enlightened as The Architect (Adam Frandsen) reveals the inspiration in the Aztec pyramids of Mexico. (Cue the first of many imaginative and thrilling lighting and video effects by Trent Suidgeest and Marco Devetak – whose video work on two inflatable screens is exceptional).
The Premier (Martin Buckingham) shrugs off the nay-sayers gathered at the Art Gallery to hear his plans, and announces a world-wide competition to find an architect with the vision and daring to take on the site. And of course, for the audience, sitting on the cobbles of the forecourt with the black silhouette of the Harbour Bridge to the west and the players in this extraordinary drama on the very steps described by Utzon, the truth of that is real. That it happened at all – on this very spot – is breathtaking.
Because the truth of the Opera House is so incredible and fanciful, Dennis Watkins’ decision to ground it by weaving in a pair of fictitious “real” characters is a master stroke. They are young soprano Alexandra Mason (Stacey Alleaume) and her boyfriend and less talented muso Stephen (Michael Petrucelli). Their story is plausible enough to make one think they must have existed.
Alex is a girl of the ’60s: on the cusp of liberation but not able to withstand drippy Stephen’s whining that she stay in Sydney with him rather than fulfil her talent and go overseas. Her teacher at the Con, Madame Magda (Jermaine Chau) despairs as so many like her must have; her doting dad (David Parkin) too. Their stories, of everyday Aussies is intertwined with the furious machinations that surrounded the construction of the House – and it all works to highlight the fantastic achievement within the drab actuality of Australia’s politics and people.
At the same time, Utzon is seen as his own worst enemy: despite the best efforts of his long-suffering ally The Engineer (David Greco). Utzon is seen as an artist and dreamer unable to compromise his vision in the face of politicians and times that were at best pragmatic. It’s daunting to watch it played out, to realise how the place that’s loved and visited by millions, that is Australia’s intellectual and cultural calling card to the world, so very nearly didn't happen. And that it did, albeit compromised, is a miracle that wouldn’t happen today, or ever again.
In a way, this site-specific (!) production shares similar qualities. Who but a wingnut such as OA artistic director Lyndon Terracini would do such a thing? Okay, so he has form in pushing ahead with the outdoor productions across Farm Cove on the “floating” stage. Yet, despite their novelty and some spectacular stage designs, they don’t have the artistic gravitas and integrity of The Eighth Wonder. Part of that of course, is the subject, but part is the leap of imagination in the use of the site and the technology and the success of all those elements.
Sold to an unsuspecting public as a “silent opera” – think silent disco – what is presented is a musical experience only otherwise to be found in the acoustically finest auditoria. And given that the audience is seated outdoors surrounded by ferries, weather, party boats and other aural detritus, it’s simply remarkable. Sound designer Tony David Cray exceeds all expectations: the sound is brilliant.
On entry into the venue each punter is handed a headset and a mini-receiver to hang about the neck with the pearls or cashmere scarf (forget the hair-do, this is fully immersive). The orchestra is invisible – tucked away in The Studio, which makes life and sound more than bearable, rather than the bowels of the other al fresco joint – while the singers are mic-ed and have ear-pieces connecting them to the band; and a direct line to the conductor (Anthony Legge) on a big screen in the control tower behind the audience.
It’s a tribute to the fabulous company, orchestra and chorus that there’s not a weak link among them and they collectively and individually make everything there is to be made out of the music and libretto. Clarity and musicality are spectacular.
By the end of the evening, young Alexandra has had her encounter with The Architect and at his urging, gone off on her quest. She returns to The House of her dreams and a meeting with the Queen (Gerry Connolly of course, and his/her interaction with Patrick White is a delight). Reality and fairy tales have combined to make magic.
Visitors to Sydney and the production will be reeling at the astounding story, its setting and and its telling, while Sydneysiders ought to be exhilarated and thrilled. Opera Australia has fulfilled its brief to give us innovation, new(ish) opera, wonderful performances by home-grown singers (a Dane sings the Danish architect, who could grumble?), Australian culture and relevance. Catch it if you can.
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