GIASONE
GIASONE, Pinchgut Opera at City Recital Hall, Angel Place, 5-9 December 2013. Photography by Keith Saunders: above: Celeste Lazarenko; right: David Hansen.
Seventeenth century audiences liked things to be straightforward - tragedy was supposed to be tragic and comedy had to be funny and they didn't approve of the two being mixed up. Shakespeare got into trouble for doing that and so apparently did Cavalli with this, his tenth opera. And in this production of Giasone, directed and designed by Chas Rader-Shieber, it's possible to understand why. The tragic aspects of the plot(s) are downplayed in favour of rollicking and almost farcical comedy. That works well most of the time and probably helps a modern audience cope with a paper-thin and mostly ridiculous story, but brings the production close to disaster at one crucial moment.
Meanwhile, however, the good things. First of all, two exceptional performers, first, in David Hansen as Giasone (Jason). Hansen's countertenor voice is sublime: powerful, true and honey-sweet and he is physically heroic too - it's the perfect combination for this role whether in sassy naval whites or bare-chested hunkery! No wonder he is making his name internationally.
The second dazzling vocal star of the night is Celeste Lazarenko, a soprano who is growing in vocal stature and confidence with each step she takes up the ladder of roles; the flexibility and technique she displays in the flourishes and intricacies of the music are a delight. Her Medea is powerful, dramatic and arresting, so her appeal to Giasone - despite a loving wife and children back in the old country - is undeniable and obvious, even when she is plotting to murder her rival.
Erin Helyard's version mercifully trims Giasone from the four hours enjoyed by its original audiences - when it was the 17th century's smash hit according to Pinchgut's tongue-in-cheek poster - to two and a half with an interval. And as the conductor and harpsichordist in front of the Orchestra of the Antipodes, Helyard is a radiant vision of enthusiasm and expertise.
Although Hansen and Lazarenko are the major players, the rest of the company is equally engaging in this story that bears some resemblance to Jason and the Argonauts and the Golden Fleece - but not a lot. As Giasone's abandoned wife Isifile, Miriam Allen is a plaintive and dignified presence, her voice pure and true and right for the role. Unfortunately, however, the emphasis on broad comedy - personified by Demo's persistent stammer and gammy leg which, 300 years ago, were considered hilarious - robs her of what should have been a poignant and distressing highlight.
Like all discarded wives of the nobility, Isifile is fully expecting to be murdered and she begs her assassin to spare her breasts - so that her twins may have one last feed of cold milk from their dead mother. It's a gruesome concept and image, but rendered horrible by the laughter and sniggering of the audience, softened up to expect buffoonery as the cast made exits and entrances by thundering up and down the Recital Hall's long gangways. It was a clumsy and distracting decision - and directly led to Allen's most piteous moment being trashed.
Nevertheless they survived through the combined talents of all musicians and singers. As the gimpy Demo, Christopher Saunders sings and acts well, as does the delightful Adrian McEniery as faithful nurse Delfa with muscular hairy legs, little handbag and Chanel two-piece: a man in drag is innately funnier to a modern audience than a disabled one, so maybe we have come some way since 1649! Nicholas Dinopoulos as Giasone's sidekick-assassin Ercole is blessed with one of the night's best lines when he tells Isifile that he only kills one queen a day; he also gets to romance young Alinda (still an honours student at the Con, Alexandra Oomens) and the two make another appealing vocal pairing. Rare nobility among a mob of adulterers, love rats and murderers is on offer through the soaring tenor of Andrew Goodwin's Egeo, while David Greco's baritone is equally rich and lustrous in his role as Isifile's manservant Oreste.
The City Recital Hall is the ideal place to hear this rarity (never before performed in Australia) and the privilege and pleasure of catching David Hansen and Celeste Lazarenko in roles they both clearly relish - he in his bath tub entrance and she in her blood red gown - make it an evening to savour. Theatrical lighting and sets don't sit well in the venue and this production is no exception, but aside from galloping up and down the aisles, the cast are mesmerising and highly effective with just the music for company. And that's really what it's about: superb musicians and superb voices. The end.
