Prima la musica, poi le parole

The Mad Scene

This will not be news to some of you, but to others it will. Along with Simon, whom you may know from the comments section/Twitter/the Brittensphere, I've started a Facebook group dedicated to spreading Sydney opera madness. Which is to say, a nice, shiny Web 2.0-type forum for passionate operagoers — and casual attendees — in Sydney and further afield to share and spread our fanaticism. It's called The Mad Scene, and you can join in the fun here. Share your thoughts, opinions, photos, experiences and everything else; feel free to start up a discussion topic or post an event; invite your friends/acquaintances/mortal enemies; and as our membership grows (35 in two days is a promising start!) so too, I hope, will the fabulous insanity. Who knows, we might even start a claque or two. 

YAP 2010

Back in May, when Opera Australia gave us the excellent news that it was opening up the application process for its Young Artist program, one of the most exciting parts of that press release for me was this sentence: "The final audition will take place in front of an audience in the Opera Theatre of the Sydney Opera House at 7.30pm on July 19, 2009."

Well, the 19th is this Sunday and I haven't heard one single thing more about this concert, not in my capacity as a ticket buyer, newsletter subscriber or reviewer. There's no mention of it on the company website, nor any concert listing at the Opera House's website. Evidently it is happening though. One imagines by invitation only, and it's been suggested to me that this invitation may have gone out exclusively to subscribers. 

Such is life. There's nothing I love more than a good singing competition but it appears I'm just plain out of luck in this case. Serves me right for forgetting every year to organise a youth subscription. (By the time I remember I'll no doubt be too old to qualify.) I shall just have to hang on till August — Eisteddfod time. In the meantime, though, if any of you out there are subscribers or have otherwise qualified to attend this concert, I'd love a report from Sunday's concert. And best of luck to all the finalists, whoever they may be. 

Update: I managed to get a ticket. I promise a full report.

New leadership

[Updated]

Opera Australia's new Artistic Director is Lyndon Terracini, artistic director and CEO of Major Brisbane Festivals. He'll be working with CEO Adrian Collette and a yet to be appointed music director. Terracini takes up the role in October. His list of stated aims includes the commissioning of new Australian works, better engagement with digital technology, and most excitingly, albeit rather optimistic, a Ring Cycle.

Detailed coverage: Opera Australia website [press release & video] | The Australian (1) | The Australian (2) | Sydney Morning Herald | ABC News [includes video] | The Fool and the Opera

And a bit of background on the man himself: Brisbane Festival | Opera Australia | Assessment of 2008 Brisbane Festival | 2006 ABC radio interview [includes bonus of Tim Minchin!] | "Free-range baritone" — an eleven year old profile from The Weekend Australian [includes photo of a donkey] | YouTube clip from ChamberMade Opera's The Burrow, in which Terracini appeared [text by blogging superstar Alison Croggon after Kafka]

The name is familiar to me, but I really know nothing of Lyndon Terracini beyond what's in the above-linked bios. Press clippings and media statements don't provide a complete picture, of course, but what I've read certainly gives the impression of an adventurous and innovative leader with a strong (and impressively wide-ranging) knowledge of the repertoire: qualities which bode well for his tenure. If nothing else, Opera Australia has made an interesting decision in appointing Terracini, and who knows, it might turn out to be a very positive one indeed. 

Your thoughts, as always, are welcome in the comments below. 

Reviewing the situation

I noticed this press release [PDF] on the Opera Australia website last night, and now this morning The Age and The Australian have the full story. Opera Australia chairman Ziggy Switkowski has ordered "a three-month top-to-bottom review of all its current and future operations", to be carried by "yet-to-be appointed external management consultants". 

A few choice quotes from The Age:

Switkowski said a "fresh set of eyes" would look at how the company could be more efficient with its government funding ... but the review will also look at management structures, programming schedules, repertoire, and marketing strategies.

And this could be promising:

[T]he review of the OA's communication strategy would look at alternatives to advertising in traditional media in favour of more website, email, texting and YouTube communication. 

Not to mention this!

"Another decision is whether we should be advertising the brilliance of our opera stars and give them bigger public profiles in how we communicate. I think there is a good case for that," Switkowski said.

To which I say: Yes! Finally! About time we stopped burying the very real, if not Netrebko-wattage, star power among our ensemble and associate artists in tiny-print cast lists! 

This, too, is worth noting:

The OA board has interviewed a shortlist of local and foreign applicants for the role of artistic director after the death of music director Richard Hickox last year. The board will interview a final shortlist of two by the end of the month.

Exciting stuff.

Meanwhile, both articles carry assurances from Ziggy that Adrian Collette's job is safe. And in related news, Switkowski has also announced new policies on board selection. The full article is here. And the crucial paragraph:

The OA has declared that its board members should be appointed for two three-year terms and this can be only extended for another term with unanimous board support. It has also stated that its board membership should be limited to 10 members, with an equal number of men and women. The board should have no more than five members from the same city, at least three members should have arts industry experience, and skills in arts marketing and fund-raising were needed.

This ought to make a few people a bit happier, I should think.

Newsflash

Via The Australian. After nineteen years on the board of Opera Australia, Rowena Danziger is standing down. Details of this and other outcomes of Thursday's AGM in Melbourne here.

From the linked article:

"I felt strongly that with the appointment of a new artistic director, you have to have board members who own that decision," the philanthropist and former girls school principal says. "The new (board) people can't be in a position where they might say: 'This was a decision that was made by somebody else."'

News

It's been mentioned in the comments for the post below, so I'll take this opportunity to point out, in case you've not seen it, the latest article about Opera Australia's quest for an Artistic Director. It makes quite a few additions to the list of potential names, including Richard Gill, Kynan Johns, Brad Cohen, Noel Staunton, Peter Coleman-Wright, Graham Pushee, Neil Armfield, Richard Mills, Timothy Calnin, Michael Cantor, Paul Grabowsky, Jonathan Mills, Lyndon Terracini, Simon Phillips, Barrie Kosky and Lindy Hume. All of whom make some kind of sense, some rather more than others.

Search commences

A press release from Opera Australia today confirms what the news report last weekend suggested, that the company will now seek to appoint a full-time Artistic Director, responsible for "setting the artistic vision, establishing and maintaining artistic standards, counseling and support for team members, programming and casting" and subsequently a Chief Conductor, responsible for "the development and leadership of the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra (AOBO), as well as for identifying and engaging guest conductors". A five person panel (Chairman Ziggy Switkowski, CEO Adrian Collette, and board members Anson Austin, David Malouf and Tim Mcfarlane) assisted by search firm Russell Reynolds will begin the recruitment process immediately.

I think it's what we all expected, and it sounds like the right idea to me. Plus, now we have the excitement of not one, but two new (or newish) faces in the near future. 

The full press release can be read at Australian Stage Online; presumably a PDF will shortly be available at the OA website, although it doesn't seem to be there yet. I'll let the sidebar poll run its course, but this announcement does change things: so, now that we have two separate positions to consider, I invite you all to offer your suggestions/hopes/wildest dreams for either or both of the jobs in the comments below. 

News

A very brief item at the tail end of ABC News tonight about Opera Australia's search for a new artistic leader, presumably part of OA's ensuring that the process be (or be seen to be) as open as possible. Not much new information, and certainly no gossip, but what was said made it pretty clear that the plan is to hire somebody who will be here all the time — whether that full time person will be both musical and artistic director, or a dedicated artistic director aided by a musical director who is not a permanent resident, remains to be seen.

In any case, Adrian Collette, while defending previous appointments (as he ought!) says they're after somebody to be here "at least thirteen months a year" and Elke Neidhardt — currently directing the revival of Werther — insists, as she has before, that the company needs an artistic director who is solely that, with "no ambitions to conduct or direct". Aldo di Toro, who will be our gorgeous sorrowful young Werther, likewise believes the company needs a full-time leader. None of this is especially surprising, but it probably does knock a few names off the list to our right — there are some there with positions they're unlikely to vacate. 

Meanwhile, the trivia in which I delight. First, unless my eyes deceived me, I'd swear some of the Werther rehearsal footage they showed was of Carlo Barricelli, not Aldo di Toro, although we definitely saw Aldo rehearsing too. [14/3: Having seen it, I think my eyes did deceive me. Aldo in his wig bears a surprising resemblance to Carlo.]  Second, kudos to the news anchor — whose name escapes me — for her perfect pronunciation of "Werther"! This is a channel on which I have heard Australia's Favourite Soprano (a title accorded her by ABC Classics, no less) referred to as "Yvonne Kennedy", so to have an anchor who managed perfectly the weird Frenchified German of this title was a delightful surprise.

Update 11/3: story now online at ABC News, along with a few details about the upcoming memorial ceremony for Richard Hickox in London. Includes video of Monday night's news item. The final paragraph is wrong: the Radiance concert is not, of couse, an addition to the season, but an already programmed concert which Hickox was to have conducted. It's now being presented as a tribute to his memory, with proceeds going to a newly established trust for young conductors. 

Have your say

The Australian reports that meetings will begin tomorrow between Opera Australia's management and the advisory panel appointed to suggest candidates for the position of Music Director. The article lists a variety of contenders, including some names I've already heard mentioned and some I haven't. A host of interesting prospects. So I thought I'd turn this into a poll, which you may already have noticed in the sidebar to your right. Have your say on which of the suggested candidates appeals to you most, or suggest an alternative. Voting closes two weeks from now, at midnight on Friday March 20th. 

Various

• Maybe I am a sentimental fool, but it made me smile to see that Jodie McGuren has been cast in the small (very small) role of Kätchen in Werther. I've always remembered how excited she was during Operatunity Oz just to have a chance to sing in the empty Opera Theatre, and then on the follow-up show, it was lovely to see that she'd been given a full-time chorus position. Because of that, I always notice her in the chorus and somehow she just seems to radiate positive energy and joy in singing. So I think it's great she's been given a solo part, however tiny, and I plan to clap especially loudly for her. 
• As has been pointed out in the comments, Bruce Beresford has been speaking again about his plans to direct Carlisle Floyd's Of Mice and Men for Opera Australia. He reckons he'd like Anthony Dean Griffey (for whom Previn wrote the role of Mitch in Streetcar) for Lenny. Which I wouldn't say no to, of course: Griffey is wonderful as Mitch on disc and he was a pretty compelling Peter Grimes in last year's Met HD broadcast. My vote's still with Stuart Skelton though. I actually found his Mitch even more affecting than Griffey's — seeing him live probably helped that, admittedly — and I fully expect his Grimes this year to be at least the equal of his American counterpart's.    
• Speaking of Stuart Skelton, my constant YouTube trawling has dragged up one single solitary clip of the man in question. Alors, here are a couple of snippets from a Carmen somewhere (the clip details don't say where). There's more Carmen than Don José (bien sur) but it's much better than nothing. (Also, after the lumpish, wooden Don José OA had last year, I think Stuart is brilliant proof that it's entirely possibly for, shall we say, a larger gentleman, to move and act convincingly on stage, to be a physically committed and responsive member of the cast. Lumpishness, I suspect, has very little to do with size.)
• Moving from tenors (!) back to my natural territory — sopranos — it occured to me that, even though I tend to consider my diva obsessions as solitary pursuits, there may actually be more people than myself interested to read the Parisian response to Our Cheryl's season of Butterfly at the Bastille. To that end, some links — all in French, of course — Franck, naturellement (blog post) |  Devil Dave (blog post) | Forum Opera (review) | Altamusica (review) | Anaclase (review)| ConcertClassic (review). As was discussed in the comments a while back, an oh-so-Parisian strike meant the actual opening night (with the A-cast Butterfly) was cancelled, so that Cheryl in fact opened the production: hence, presumably, all the press. And if you don't fancy reading all the French: they liked her. There's little abject diva worship — that's my department — but it's a pretty positive response overall.   
• Well, if Stuart Skelton gets a YouTube link, then Cheryl definitely does. She's remarkably hard to find: neither of the two clips which come up in a search on her name actually contain any footage of her. But I tracked her down eventually, in four clips (here, here, here and here) from a 2001 La bohème at the Vlaamse Opera. They're focused on the Musetta (Rebecca Caine) but there's quite a bit of Mimi too, and she's fabulous. Bonus: the Rodolfo is Julian Gavin.

For Your Consideration

A couple of weeks ago I posted some of my casting hopes for the operas rumoured to be in Opera Australia's 2010 season. Discussion in the comments quickly turned to dreams of 2011 and beyond. I always enjoy 1. fantasy programming and 2. listmaking, so let's keep it up. Here's a selection of the items on my OA wishlist, along with a few thoughts about who I'd like to see singing in them. Add your own in the comments and maybe somewhere, lassù in ciel, the operagods will hear our pleas and smile upon them. (Either that or we'll just jinx ourselves, but I think it's worth the risk.) 

Katya Kabanova — Cheryl Barker in the title role. It seems the next logical step after her Jenufa and Emilia Marty, not to mention her successes as Katya elsewhere. Stuart Skelton for Boris (his page at Melba says he's headed for an ENO Katya, so why not here, too?) and of course Elizabeth Whitehouse as Kabanicha. [Other overseas successes I'd like to see Cheryl reprise here: the title role of Salome, Tatyana in Eugene Onegin and even, yes, Hanna Glawari in The Merry Widow, just for the novelty of seeing her in a comedy.]   

Idomeneo — My favourite non-Da Ponte Mozart opera. I'd like to see Catherine Carby (Idamante), Steve Davislim or Simon O'Neill (Idomeneo), Rachelle Durkin (Elettra), and somebody brand new and exciting as Ilia. [Alternatively, La clemenza di Tito with the same cast and Sian Pendry as Annio.]  

L'Italiana in Algeri — How fabulous would Jacqueline Dark be as Isabella? 

Les dialogues des Carmélites — The Sydney Conservatorium is producing Les mamelles de Tirésias this year, so a Carmélites would complete the trio for me. I think Leanne Kenneally could make an amazing Blanche de la Force. And maybe we could poach the WASO's principal conductor, Paul Daniel, whose account of this opera for Chandos is fantastic. [Poulenc-wise, I'd be just as happy to see Yvonne Kenny in a revival of La voix humaine, still the finest performance I've seen her give. [Although, very quietly, it's heretical to say so, but I can't help thinking Cheryl might be even more devastating in the role. I never said it, you never read it, nothing happened.]]

The Turn of the Screw — With anyone. I just want to see this opera. Although, the Governess would be a good role for a singer I'd love OA to import, fantastic Chandos regular Sarah Tynan. Closer to home, I can imagine Tiffany Speight pulling it off nicely as well. Quint? No idea. In an ideal world, I'd like Mark Padmore but that — sigh — will never be. 

 

Gloriana — I know, not most people's favourite Britten opera, but surely all Britten is good Britten and it would definitely be something different. Besides which, I have an idea. Since she's such a splendid Penelope Rich on disc, and has a history of moving from one role to another within a single opera — not to mention all the regal bearing one could ask for — I'm suggesting Yvonne Kenny for Elizabeth I. It might just work. 

Béatrice et Bénédict — Another gorgeous, girly role (and en français...swoon) for Jacqueline Dark. I see Aldo di Toro as her Bénédict and Joshua Bloom, who has already sung the role for Chicago Opera Theater, as Don Pedro. I know Opera Australia has a production in repertory: it was last seen in 2005 providing sets and costumes for Il signor Bruschino and was recently loaned to Houston Grand Opera for their B&B. 

La fille du régiment — Emma Pearson and Brad Cooper as Marie and Tonio. Two rising stars I'm dying to hear again.

Thaïs — It's a wild, extravagant dream and no doubt a vain hope, but I still think this would be a fabulous vehicle for Cheryl Barker and Peter Coleman-Wright. The production recently seen at the Met was by John Cox, who was responsible for last year's Cheryl'n'Peter Feature, the divine Arabella so who knows, maybe he'd like to do a smaller scale one for us? (Probably sans Lacroix, darling, Lacroix!) [Or, another off the beaten path C'n'P vehicle: Jake Heggie's The End of the Affair, which premiered in Houston in 2004 with Cheryl, Peter and Teddy Tahu Rhodes. I've no idea if it's any good or not, but the sheer Antipodean bias of its original cast suggests it's at least worth considering, especially given the success of Streetcar and OA's stated intention of continuing to explore American opera.]

And the list goes on. And on. But that's more than enough from me. Over to you!

 

Deborah Riedel

I've just had an email from Opera Australia with the very sad news that the soprano Deborah Riedel has passed away today at Sydney's Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. What a bolt from the blue — I saw Deborah just months ago, in her capacity as judge of the Mathy Awards. My thoughts are with her family, friends and colleagues at this very difficult time. Adrian Collette has announced that Opera Australia will dedicate opening night of The Magic Flute to Deborah's memory.

See also:
The Australian | Stage Noise (Diana Simmonds) | The Morning After (Chris Boyd) | I am a liminal being (wanderer) | Opera Australia press release | Melba Recordings | Deborah's biography at Arts Management [PDF] 

Christmas at the House

Two years ago, for the usual reason, I took myself (with low expectations) to Opera Australia's Christmas concert and, to my great surprise, had a pretty good time. Well, to be precise, I had five pretty good times. Since my interest in these concerts has everything to do with the performers involved and almost nothing to do with holiday spirit, it's possibly not surprising that I gave last year's (which featured, if I recall correctly, the Choir of Hard Knocks and Christine Anu) a miss. In fact I barely noticed it was happening. But this year, OA has made a return to the earlier format, along with several of the same special guests, and so I was lured back. For two performances only, however. I must be growing sane in my old age.

It turned out to be a bit too much like the earlier one, only less...well, less something. Or maybe it was just me, and my state of mind this year versus 2006. But back then, the whole evening had more of the extravaganza about it. It was cheesy, absolutely, but it was all good fun, and the silly stuff was made endurable by some very legit singing. This year, although many of the items on the programme were identical, somehow the spirit was a little less engaging. 

The 2006 was my more or less auspicious introduction to Taryn Fiebig. This year, in her place (and singing at least one of the same songs) was Natalie Jones. Who was fine, although in the earlier performance took a little time to adjust her singing to the microphone. David Hobson was back too, his resemblance to Dudley Moore as strong as ever, but his comic antics, alas, were curbed. He gave us the inevitable "Jerusalem", an oddly bouncy arrangement of the Schubert "Ave Maria", and joined Natalie for "Let It Snow", but the wacky sense of humour which made me like him so much back then wasn't so much in evidence this time. David the Serious Artist isn't nearly so interesting.

In the end, the real star was James Egglestone, who left David in the dust both as crooner and proper tenor. He made a virtue of the amplification in his first selection, "Gesu bambino" (but in English) and then pulled off a fabulous rendition of Mel Torme's Christmas Song. And he was a pretty cute joey in Six White Boomers, if not as hilarious as David was last time. 

And there was, of course, the other guest star, the same usual reason mentioned above. The truth, plain and simple, is that only Yvonne Kenny (and maybe a couple of other people) could make me go to a Christmas concert, and so she is exactly why I went. It was very nice to see her. The entertainments might have been a bit on the subdued side, but at least she (and Natalie) brought a bit of diva to the event, with nine frocks between the two of them. As usual, she also provided some of the classiest singing of the evening. "What child is this?" was one of those radiant, heart-stopping moments she's so good at. I also loved her "Have yourself a merry little Christmas", not only because it was so sweetly sung (she too knows how to make amplification work in her favour) but because both her moves and her fabulous red dress evoked Fifties Judy Garland to (probably unintentional) perfection.

Simon Burke hosted. I'm still not entirely sure what he's famous for here, although I understand he's on Playschool, and he has been playing Captain von Trapp in London for a while. He delivered the same funny poems as last time, but the gloss is off them for me now. (And let's be honest, they weren't particularly hilarious to begin with). The usual children stomped and screamed and generally made nuisances of themselves, but that's what I get for attending a family-friendly event, so it would be foolish to whinge about it. And there was a nice moment at tonight's concert when a loud, crying toddler was silenced by Yvonne's "Little Drummer Boy". 

So why am I writing it up on here? Well, because of the people involved and because it had the words Opera Australia attached. You can probably tell I was a bit underwhelmed. Still, as I say, it was lovely to see Yvonne again after rather a long absence. And I can only hope that James Egglestone's appearance here presages future engagements with the company proper. 

Farewell

Richard Hickox conducted the first opera I ever saw as a Sydneysider, Janacek's Jenufa. That was a matinée, two weeks after I moved here. Even before that, just a few days after I arrived, when I was still camped out in a backpackers in King's Cross and wondering what on earth I'd done, the first performance of any kind I saw as a resident was Opera Australia's 50th Anniversary Gala, also conducted by Richard Hickox. Part of the reason I'd moved here was because I needed to live somewhere with regular opera. Opera Australia has provided it ever since, and Richard Hickox is the only Music Director I've known. For those who knew the company under previous régimes, there are points of comparison to be made, some to Hickox's advantage and some, I suppose, not. I can't make those comparisons. Since my first, tentative steps into trans-Tasman fanaticism, Opera Australia and Richard Hickox have been synonymous as far as I've been concerned.

And maybe it's just coincidence — and maybe it's not — but while parts of the opera community were blaming him for a perceived slip in artistic standards, the three finest productions I saw at Opera Australia this year were all led by Richard — Billy Budd, the extraordinary revival of The Makropulos Case and, above all, Arabella, whose opening night was quite simply the best night I have ever spent in any theatre, anywhere. 

It is a pity that, as has been pointed out elsewhere, several of the Australian newspapers have chosen to report this awful tragedy as the next installment in the sorry saga of Opera Australia's embattled administration. Such an approach does justice to nobody — neither Richard, who deserves far more dignity, nor the dissenters who, for all the complaints they made and insults they levelled, obviously never, ever wanted it to end like this. 

I have always felt myself in capable hands with Richard in the pit. In some cases, I've felt myself in the best imaginable care, above all in the British works which were his joy, his passion and his unquestioned forte. The performances he led of Billy Budd and of Vaughan Williams' The Pilgrim's Progress were both of the kind which made me think: this is as good as it gets, nobody does this as well as that man right there, and what good fortune that all it takes to experience his incredible skill is a ticket and a twenty minute train ride. And it always made me inordinately happy when, arriving at the theatre well in advance, I would see him perched at the cafe in the Opera House concourse, enjoying a pre-show snack with his son. 

At times like this, there's little worse than manufactured emotion. I will not now fabricate a deeper affection than I felt. But even if Richard Hickox rarely inspired me to rapture, he has been a significant and positive presence in all of my Australian opera going, and I have always felt it a privilege that an artist of his standing, reputation and skill was all the way over here, looking after Australia's — after my — opera company. Opera is my maddest passion, the love of my life, and for the last two years, the nature and nourishment of that passion has been almost entirely in Richard's care. The seasons he designed, the performances he led, the artistic vision which he and this company have pursued — whatever you might think of them, these have been the basis of the most significant phase in my development as a lover of (and writer about) opera. For that I will always remember him, I will always be grateful, and, yes, I will miss him.

The loss to music is huge, but the personal loss is of course far greater and more painful. My thoughts now are with those closest to Richard, his friends and colleagues, both here and in the UK, and most of all, his family, his wife Pamela and his children. May they find strength and peace in this extraordinarily difficult time.

Farewell to this grand rough world! Never more shipmates, no more sea, no looking down from the heights to the depths. But I've sighted a sail in the storm, the far-shining sail that's not fate, and I'm contented. I've seen where she's bound for. She has a land of her own where she'll anchor for ever. Oh, I'm contented.
(From Billy Budd, libretto by E.M.Forster & Eric Crozier)

Lend me an excruciatingly obvious pun

A few days ago, I came across this article, about a New Zealand gangster turned tenor, whose star may or may not be in the ascendant. The point which caught my eye was that he has been invited to audition for Opera Australia. There is nothing unusual or particularly newsworthy in that fact, but what struck me was that my mind immediately leapt from "invited to audition" to "next great shining hope". That's wildly optimistic, even for me, but it is symptomatic of the state of affairs regarding tenors in this country. We simply don't seem to have enough. 

By my count, Opera Australia's 2008 season contained twelve leading or significant supporting tenor roles, shared among fourteen tenors. So far, so good. But among those fourteen, only four were singers currently under contract with the company. Of the remaining ten, two (Aldo di Toro and Julian Gavin) were Australian singers engaged as guest artists, two (Dennis O'Neill and Carlo Barricelli) were what you might call honorary Australians, and six were overseas imports. Unlike some, I see no fundamental problem with engaging overseas singers: provided they're well cast (and most were) they bring variety and vibrancy to the company's artistic output and enhance its standing internationally. Nevertheless, when Opera Australia continues to take pride in its status as an ensemble company, it must be a concern to note that, at least in this voice type, they've had to rely so strongly on singers from outside that ensemble, regardless of their nationality. 

The drought is not limited to tenors. I have the sense we're running low on sopranos, particularly of the full lyric variety. However, a similar survey to that above yields rather different results. The 2008 season contained fifteen sopranos, all of them Australian and almost all of them contracted. (Though it should be noted that 2009 sees an influx of six imported sopranos, three of them for the role of Aida alone.) Our soprano pool is definitely in need of expansion and improvement, but for the moment at least, we've enough to get by. There's also the added hope of young singers, with recent vocal competitions dominated on several occasions by sopranos, some of whom are just what the doctor ordered. Meanwhile, even at that student/competition level, tenors seem few and far between. The only stand out lately has been David Corcoran, and, not surprisingly, he's been snaffled by Opera Australia's Young Artist Programme. 

So, where are all the tenors? And, more to the point, why aren't they here? 

Prima donna speaks sense

The Sydney Morning Herald's Letters Page today includes the following:

I am writing to show my support for Opera Australia, its chief executive, Adrian Collette, and its musical director, Richard Hickox. I cannot believe this debacle is still going on. It is damaging the reputation of Australian opera internationally, something Hickox has been championing when abroad, as have other Australian international performers. By securing the release of live recordings by Chandos Records, Opera Australia performances are being heard internationally.

These recordings would not have come about had it not been for Hickox. It is about time the media jumped off the bandwagon of a few bitter and disgruntled people and appreciated the good things.

Cheryl Barker Pyrmont

The link was forwarded to me while I was drafting my previous post. She took the words right out of my mouth. And I would add that chief among the "good things" is, of course, the letter's author herself.

Mediawatch, Part II

My distaste for confrontation has me wishing this whole sorry business would just go away, but my urge to catalogue is winning out. Here's the latest swathe of articles in this exhausting saga.

October 2008 "La Travesty" — Gideon Haigh, The Monthly [subscription only, but a bit of creative Googling will get you the whole story.]

October 2008 Letter to the Editor of The Monthly from opera patron Minnie Kent Biggs.

9.10.08 "Conductor calls for inquiry into Opera Australia" — Robin Usher, The Age. Richard Divall, the other other other Richard of Australian opera, enters the fray, adding nothing very new except his own personal grievances.

11.10.08 "Singer calls for operatic shift to Melbourne" — Robin Usher, The Age. Bruce Martin (he of the "bleating goat" allegations against Chandos) says move HQ to Melbourne. I say don't you dare.

12.10.08 "Oz opera revolts at being 'packed with Poms'" — Paul Ham, Times Online, UK. Perhaps I haven't been reading closely enough (likely) but this was the first I knew of the "33 employees – 11 of whom remained anonymous – [who] sent letters to Opera Australia supporting Janes".

October 2008 Letter to the Editor of The Monthly from Opera Australia CEO, Adrian Collette.

16.10.08 "Legal battle sees opera bequest frittered away" — Michael Shmith, The Age. Long running issue resurrected, the dispute over Melva Thompson's bequest to the Victoria State Opera, which subsequently merged with Opera Australia. Includes details of Adrian Collette's interview with the reprehensible Alan Jones.

16.10.08 "Opera Australia is a house of strife" — Michael Shmith again, WA Today. More of the same, really, but an opinion piece this time.

18.10.08 "Opera legacy's fraught finale" — Gideon Haigh again, The Age. More on the legacy.

18.10.08 "Chorus of controversy, not in the same key" — The Age. Editorial summary of all the above, effectively.

18.10.08 "How to lose $2m without really trying" — Gideon Haigh yet again, The Age. Seven page article about everything. If I might pick at one trival point: Lady Primrose Potter, "doyen [sic] of Melbourne's arts patrons" didn't like Carmen. Why? Pamela Helen Stephen. And why didn't she approve of Pamela? Was it because she couldn't sing the music properly? No. Apparently, it was because of her hair:
"Carmen with flaming red hair?" she says. "Well, it was ridiculous."
OK. Point #1 — black hair is not a prerequisite for Carmen. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Marilyn Horne. Point #2 — she wears a wig.

That's it, for now at least. Please let it be over soon.

Hear ye, Sydney

Hear what your opera company offereth:

"A special ticket price of $60 on great remaining seats across A, B and C Reserve for the performance of Billy Budd on Monday 13 October at 7.30pm and The Makropulos Secret on Tuesday 21 October at 7.30pm."

And, as usual:

"This special price is only available for tickets purchased online and tickets will be allocated on a 'first in, first served' basis. Offer vaild for a limited time only. Tickets subject to availability. Booking fees apply."

Go! Now! It's the world's easiest decision.

A question

OzOpera is currently touring Madama Butterly. Jane Parkin is singing Cio-Cio San. The closest the tour gets to me is Parramatta next month. I would seriously consider a trip out to Parramatta to hear Jane in the role. However. OzOpera productions are double cast and I understand that the casts rotate even within a single venue. So what I'm hoping is that somebody reading this might be able to tell me with certainty (or close to it) which night or nights Jane will sing. Do so anonymously if so inclined.

Wishlist

For the first time in my life, I'm anticipating the announcement of an opera season which will contain more than two operas, and which I'll actually be able to see without flying anywhere. Quite thrilling, really. And of course, being a natural maker of lists, I'm thinking now about what — regardless of likelihood — I'd like to see.

I would like, for one thing, some Richard Strauss. The situation, after all, is quite absurd — I have a deep and abiding passion for Strauss and yet I've never ever seen any of his operas live. Top of the list? Well, you'd expect it to be Rosenkavalier and it sort of is, but my real secret wish is in fact Ariadne auf Naxos. It fascinates me. And I don't know it particularly well, but I'd like the chance to change that. Elektra would be fun too.

Mozartwise, I should probably want Die Zauberflöte. Of the Big Five it's the only one I've never seen live. Well, that's not entirely true. I saw it when I was very very tiny, and retained nothing but the Queen of the Night's aria and the image of Pamina with knife in hand. So it's still on the to-do list. And yet... musically speaking, what I would actualy quite like is another Idomeneo. Pinchgut did it last year but I'd be happy to see it again — I know it's not everybody's favourite Mozart (is it anybody's) but there's just something about it I like. Not the plot. But Ilia's music is just gorgeous for one thing. If not Idomeneo I wouldn't mind a Cosi, I suppose, provided the cast was fabulous.

Then there are the wishes I know will never be granted. Like Rameau. I know. Baroque opera at Opera Australia means Handel and maybe Purcell. And to tell the truth, could any production of Les indes galantes match the Arts Florissants one? Doubtful. Meanwhile I at least have Pinchgut to provide a bit of less-than-standard baroque fare — Vivaldi's Juditha triumphans this year and who knows what in 2008.

I always want Poulenc, naturally. I would take any of the three. Les mamelles de Tirésias would be such fun though it would need to be coupled with something else. L'enfant et les sortilèges seems pretty standard and I'd be more than happy to see that too. Frankly the more twentieth century French opera you want to present me with, the happier I'll be. I'd even take Pelleas et Mélisande — I keep reading less than loving opinions of it, but the one time I heard it (via the Met broadcast) I really rather liked it.

Bel canto. I believe we're getting a Lucia, which is fine. Still I can't help but crave some ever-so-slightly less familiar Donizetti. I'd like to see a Lucrezia Borgia one day. One of the best operatic moments I've ever seen is in the film of the Royal Opera's Lucrezia with Joanie and Alfredo Kraus — when Joan appears at the party, all in red and with all that red hair, to tell the men they're in her power now. Even more fun, of course — the magnificently titled Emilia di Liverpool. I doubt I'll ever see this anywhere and that's pretty understandable. But it is an interesting sort of opera, not just because of its weird title, but because the style is so strange. It's opera seria but written for a theatre which came with a compulsory buffo basso — so Emilia sings like your typical dignified bel canto heroine, but she's surrounded by characters who sound like they're in L'elisir d'amore. Shades of Ariadne auf Naxos. 

And I would love some Benjamin Britten. Anything, really. Well...anything with a soprano role in it. Peter Grimes, A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Turn of the Screw would probably be my top three wishes. Speaking of English composers — and moving into the realm of the well and truly impossible (at least at Opera Australia) — Walton's Troilus and Cressida is still something I would like to hear. All I've ever heard from it is part of the aria "At the haunted end of the day" but it's intriguing. Not to mention the fact that his songs are some of my very favourite music — my desert island disc in fact — so I trust him as a composer for voice, even if the opera was a miserable flop at its premiere.

What else? Massenet's Cendrillon might or might not be interesting. Handel's Semele. I'd quite like a Tosca in a way; it would certainly be preferable to La bohème. Though it would probably incapacitate me for a week or so — Tristan und Isolde. Monteverdi! Samuel Barber! And if there's operetta to be had, let us abandon the Viennese and have Offenbach instead, who's much funnier.

Do I expect my wishes to be granted? Hardly, though there are two or three among those I've mentioned which I believe will be in the 2008 season. Oh, but it's nice to dream. Besides, I've got to do something while I wait for the announcement and whatever delights it contains. And it will be delightful. Whatever my implausible fantasies, the mere fact of opera — any opera — in such proximity and in such generous quantities still makes me a very happy girl indeed.

New Year's Eve

"Opera at the movies" was the unifying thread for Opera Australia's New Year's Eve gala last night. No, hardly the most unusual or unpredictable theme. Without further prompting, you could probably guess at least two thirds of the programme. There were few surprises, it's true — but what matter? Of fabulous singing, there was more than enough — and that's what it's all about, after all. Maybe I hunger occasionally for obscure baroque or endless Poulenc, but I'm still a pretty mainstream girl, and once in a while I think there's nothing better than the joyous familiarity of operatic greatest hits. Over-exposed they might be, but in most cases there's some kind of musical reason for their popularity, excessive or otherwise. So, no sneering from me; I was happy to abandon myself to an evening of easy-going gorgeousness.

The concert opened with — what else? — the William Tell overture, followed by a very charming turn by José Carbo, relishing the patter of Figaro's "Largo al factotum" while climbing a ladder and handing out flowers to women in the front row. Of course, the last time I saw José was back home in Dunedin, as Opera Otago's dashing Escamillo, and his "Votre toast" made an appearance  here too, to much adulation. Naturally we were never going to make it through the night without "Nessun dorma". There are ways to mitigate the overfamiliarity of the piece (not least of which is making even the vaguest acknowledgement of its actual context) but sadly none of these were paid the slightest heed, and we were treated instead to the pedestrian crossover stylings and jarringly forced climaxes of Rosario La Spina. Of course he received the loudest ovation of the night, but that's to be expected. His second appearance was no more impressive — Rodolfo's "Che gelida manina" and "O soave fanciulla" both likewise lacking in either musical or dramatic nuance. But the other tenor of the evening, Henry Choo, stood in stark contrast, with a sweet and lilting "Una furtiva lagrima".

On the female side of things, there was, incredibly, no "O mio babbino caro". But we did hear the other Puccini moment from A Room With A View, Magda's "Chi il bel sogno di Doretta" from La rondine. It was just one of numerous appearances by Russian soprano Elvira Fatykhova, who seemed at times to be singing half the gala single-handed. Her most impressive moment came in Violetta's "E strano...Ah, fors'e lui...Sempre libera", sung with insight and lyrical precision. She also blended beautiful with the Catherine Carby's warm, rounded sound in the duet from Lakmé — which strangely enough was ushered in without a mention of The Hunger. Carby returned later with a lush "Mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix", suitably seductive despite a slightly rushed tempo from the orchestra.

I'm left with just one more soprano to mention — my life's delight, Yvonne. With the theme for the concert in mind, as well as her typical concert repertoire, I had my own predictions about what she might sing. But her first aria hadn't even entered my mind — "Lascia ch'io pianga. As featured (I'd forgotten this) in Farinelli, only, of course, sung far more exquisitely. I thought my chance had passed to hear her sing Handel live and with orchestra, I thought I'd found her too late for that. Not quite, it seems. And that it should be this aria  — the first track on the first of her CDs I ever owned and thus the first aria I really heard her sing. Nine years have made a difference, as does a concert hall instead of a recording studio. There's more vibrato, the ornaments are simpler, the timbre has a bit more metal (but precious metal) to it. What nine years don't change is that she sings this aria, which everyone with even the most tenuous claim to the title of soprano has attempted, with a radiant beauty and an understanding of the Handelian idiom of which the pretenders could hardly conceive, let alone match. 

And yet there was better to come. Two magic words, words which I'd tried not to let myself hope too hard for, lest they never come. But come they did — Shawshank Redemption. Yes. "Sull'aria". For me it's one of the most extraordinary beautiful pieces of music in existence. And I have the Chandos English Figaro, so I've heard her sing it before, but this was different. Hearing it live, and in Italian — and watching her sing it, seeing, if only fleetingly, her Countess Almaviva come to magical life... again these were joys I thought I should always be deprived of.

Finally came the prediction I did have right, Rusalka's Song to the Moon. In English as always— I'd adore her to sing in Czech but have long since given up on that. Like the Handel it showed the changes in her voice over the last decade and a half. This wasn't the same Rusalka as on Simple Gifts or even the 1999 gala with Bryn Terfel. Her sound is a little heavier now, the high passages require slightly more, and different, effort. The result is richer and more exciting than ever. She filled that concert hall with shining sound in a way nobody else last night approached. I think back to something I said all that time ago, after her Hanna Glawari — that even with no prior knowledge of any of the singers on stage, you still could not fail to realise that she exists on an entirely different level of artistry. There's a quality she exudes, even in silence, which distinguishes her immediately. No matter how many times I come into the presence of the glory she creates, I never get used to her — she always takes my breath away, and she always will. The fireworks in the harbour afterwards were impressive, but nothing in that display was even a fraction as amazing as she is.

Humbug repellent

My new concert strategy — cultivate low expectations. Tonight I went to Opera Australia's "Christmas at the House", expecting to endure boredom and/or sappy family concert antics while awaiting the concert's Special Guest Star, whose name you can probably guess. Even as I arrived at the opera house I was still having to remind myself that I did want to go, that there was a reason I bought the ticket. I sat down expecting the worst. And then it was fantastic.

Simon Burke — no doubt famous for something over here but I've no idea what — was the perfect host, several steps up from Anthony Warlow's autocued emceeing at the Anniversary Gala. He spoke and acted and sang up a storm. David Hobson, Australia's Favourite Tenor, featured heavily. Now I shall be honest. Hobson was one of the main reasons I felt so oddly reluctant to be at this concert — though his Ferrando in Opera Australia's 1992 Cosi was fine, he's really not a singer I've been able to warm to. I arrived at work one morning last week in time for the tail end of one of his CDs and found it pretty much unlistenable. In person tonight, however, all of that changed — his singing was brilliant, engaging and entirely listenable.  Add to this the fact that he's ridiculously charming and hilarious onstage and I begin to understand why he's attracted such a committed and enthusiastic fanbase. I know I've completely changed my mind about him. His facial expressions while singing still remind me of Dudley Moore but this only adds to the fun. Alongside David was another gorgeous tenor, the adorable Henry Choo. Henry was one of my highlights in the anniversary gala; the chance to hear him for a longer stretch was much appreciated. His "O Holy Night", sung in both English and impeccable French ("Minuit chrétiens") was especially beautiful. Henry will sing the role of the young collector in A Streetcar Named Desire, which ought to be interesting.

Ah, but enough of these men. The concert opened with (after a cringeingly bad "ain't baroque" joke) soprano Taryn Fiebig's  "Let the bright seraphim". Intriguing this. Her voice is lovely, sort of bronzy and somehow American, with hints of Kathy and Renée here and there, and she gave a spirited performance. But there were consonants which disappeared, some rather dubious coloratura, and she seemed to sing the whole aria as if it were a joke — it's fast and happy, yes, but could do with a little sincerity too. Still, as I say, intriguing — both the quality of the sound and the faults have me curious to actually hear her in opera and sans microphone. But the real discovery of tonight for me was mezzo Catherine Carby. Knowing that she sang Cornelia in this year's Giulio Cesare, I almost wish I hadn't decided to give it a miss. I'm not certain what she's singing in the coming season, other than the Bela Lugosi-esque (think Glen and Glenda) Mexican Woman in Streetcar, but hopefully there's something, and something which will show off that velvety sound off to maximum advantage.

And, of course, Yvonne. This isn't fair. I wish she had been a revelation like all the rest, a new discovery to whom I could accord all my best adjectives for the very first time. But I've done all that. What can be added to two years (almost to the day, incidentally) of celebration? Still I need to say something. In the first half she sang Franck's "Panis angelicus" and was her usual glorious self. In the second half, however, magic happened. My Christmas miracle perhaps. With only the very barest of orchestration behind her, she stood there and sang an "Away in a manger" which I can't describe. It was the point in the show at which I fell apart. A moment of pure, intense beauty, overwhelming in its simplicity. Unlike any other performance I think I've ever seen her give — and I can't say why I think that, but it was different somehow, revelatory even. Heavenly.

Operatunity Oz / Rigoletto

Now, Operatunity Oz is something I ought to write more about than I'm actually going to: what it really deserved was to be blogged as it happened, but it's too late for that now. But the winner, bass David Parkin, was pretty easy to pick right from the beginning. My personal favourite among the six finalists, tenor (and surely one of the nicest people in the world) Roy Best, was a runner up; soprano Emily Burke was the other. I think the competition went exactly the way it ought to. Despite my incredibly conspicuous bias towards female voices (or perhaps because of it) none of the three sopranos to make the final impressed me hugely: none of them had that thing, whatever it is, that makes a girl like me smile and swoon and spend a million dollars on tickets. Roy did though, at least a little bit. David Parkin was always at an advantage on account of having such a rare voice - in an early audition, when conductor and panelist Richard Gill had him boom out a few lines of Magic Flute dialogue, it was clear he had serious promise. The voice, the look, the physical presence and the acting ability. There was also a wildcard among the six, John Roehrig, a plumber with an infectious love of singing but basically no musical training who, as appealing as he was, was ultimately more than anything else an advertisement for the necessity of a musical education. What the panel managed to do with him in the short time they had was incredible. Particularly amazing was the way in which the one and only Yvonne transformed his "E lucevan le stelle" — a testament perhaps more even to her own mindblowing to talent than to Roehrig's potential, but then I would say that. 

That's it in an entirely inadequate nutshell. But it's enough to lead up to the main thing I want to write about, which is Rigoletto. Being the Mozart-Handel-Strauss girl I am, I'm very good at neglecting the Italian repertoire. The Met broadcast with Anna Netrebko was the first time I'd heard Rigoletto from start to finish, and my trip to Rigoletto on October 24th was my first time seeing it live. And I mightn't have gone under normal circumstances — but this particular performance was the one which marked the culmination/prize of Operatunity. David Parkin, as the winner, sang Sparafucile; Roy and Emily, as runners-up, sang the Duke and Gilda respectively in Act Three. In the stalls, dozens of family members, a shouting and supportive audience and five beaming proud panelists  — Richard Gill, Yvonne of course, vocal coach par excellence Anna Connolly, the fabulously sharptongued director Elke Neidhardt, and soprano Antoinette Halloran (who, if she has the voice to match, must be Australia's answer to Anna Moffo.)

Because of the special nature of this Rigoletto I have to deal with in two halves. So. The Operatunity half first. David was absolutely a success. My cheap-as-they-come seat meant I couldn't see him during most of his first appearance but I could certainly hear him and there was no doubt he proved himself entirely worthy of his prize. You can't judge a singer in this situation by the usual standards, of course; you can't expect a world-class Sparafucile from someone who's never sung opera on stage in his life. But for what it was, it was pretty damn good. Roy's turn in Act Three was something I was particularly anticipating and he was wonderful, negotiating "La donna e mobile" with far more swagger than, just a few weeks earlier, anyone would ever have expected of him. Emily Burke's nerves were evident but in the end she basically pulled it off, and my sympathies were with her — Gilda's final act must be hard enough for any soprano, but to be obliged to do it without the psychological preparation of the rest of the opera must make it even more difficult.

And now to the rest of the cast. This far removed from the performance there's only so much I can remember. I know that Warwick Fyfe in the title role took some time to convince me but did eventually do so, especially once he started getting properly vengeful. Somehow I'd missed the fact that Dunedin's Own Jud Arthur was even in the cast — it wasn't until I'd spent a minute or so thinking, isn't this Monterone brilliant that I realised it was him, sounding just fantastic and looking quite terrifying. Singing Maddalena was the always wonderful Roxane Hislop, whose dark and (this is probably a strange word to choose but never mind) curvacious mezzo I absolutely love — and lord knows I've had plenty of chances to appreciate it, since she appeared in both Il signor Bruschino and Falstaff. But as the Duke, Rosario La Spina disappointed me even more than he did at the OA anniversary gala — the voice is undeniably attractive, but the further it's pushed (and he certainly does push it) the more he sounds to me like a Neapolitan street singer or a crossover star out of his element. I believe he was once a Ten Tenor. This doesn't surprise me at all. By the end of Act One I couldn't wait till the final act, when we'd get Roy instead and with him, a bit more grit and, to my tastes, a much more attractive timbre.

But what I'm working up to, in typically longwinded fashion, is, of course, a soprano. Natalie Jones. Number one candidate for my local diva. I saw Natalie as Musetta here last year, and she was excellent. All the same I was unprepared for the vocal splendour of her Gilda, strong and secure but still girlishly silvered, with a rainbow of colours at her disposal and a very respectable trill to boot. These days I feel like I've exhausted my standard soprano vocabulary somewhat — I'll need a good deal more Natalie before I can choose some words individually suited to her. Thankfully, with a little patient, this shan't be too difficult a task. Next year she's Morgana, Blonde, and Casilda in (sigh) The Gondoliers. Given that in the first two she's singing opposite Emma Matthews, I'm all for encouraging a Bordoni/Cuzzoni-style feud between the two. I know whose side I'd be cheering for in the ensuing catfight but, alas, I fear Opera Australia is unlikely to programme Bononcini any time soon. Never mind — there's a new Natalie in my musical life and she's brilliant.

Jenufa

Sydney Opera House, 21 October 2006.

In all my excitement over my first live Janacek opera  I didn't buy a programme or check the website and discover that it was going to be sung in English. In fact, finally visiting the website now I discover no mention of said translation and, what's more, this sentence "Janáček loved his native Czech language, and his music is infused with the rhythms of speech." Curiouser and curiouser.

Anyhow I suppose it's hardly the disaster of the century, and knowing certainly wouldn't have stopped me going, but it was a bit of a disappointment — there's something about an English translation, especially in an through-composed opera like this and especially in an opera so unfamiliar to me, which creates a distance which wouldn't otherwise be there. It just isn't the ideal way to meet an opera for the first time. I heard Falstaff  in English a number of times before hearing it in Italian and there's no doubt that the language absolutely shapes the musical experience. Though, of course, I still haven't heard La voix humaine in French. But I did learn it in French so in my mind it's a bilingual creature. Not unlike certain Mozart arias which I used to play on piano from a book with German texts only — to this day, if "Dove sono" is in my head, the opening recit runs something like "E Susanna non vien? Sono ansiosa. Wüsst' ich nur wie die Conte accolse la proposta. Kühn scheint es immer was ich heut' wagen will" and so on. But I've been spectacularly sidetracked.

Revenons à notre Jenufa. Cheryl Barker did some interesting things in the title role. Obviously she's a singer who thrives on drama rather than the chance to display vocal splendour — the more hideous Jenufa's life became, the more focused her performance became. Vocally she was fine though this was the last performance of the run and I think the strain was starting to show through in everyone's singing — it's a demanding piece. But in a sense the slightly threadbare quality to all the singing was appropriate, an aural match to the relentless misery and Eastern European starkness of it all. But naturally the show belonged to Elizabeth Whitehouse's powerhouse of a Kostelnicka, the source of most the show's genuinely beautiful sounds, and a superb vocal actress even if her stage presence was not always entirely persuasive. Heather Begg's Burya on the other hand sounded ready to keel over any moment but presumably this was intentional, like the ancient emperor or whoever he is in Turandot. As Laca, Peter Wedd threw his heart and soul and then some into it, singing with an incredible intensity which maybe made his voice sound rather more remarkable than it actually is — I mean this as praise, incidentally. Jamie Allen sang well also, though somewhat unmemorably, and made for an effete and rather repellent Steva of whom Jenufa was well rid and who resembled nothing so much as a blonde David Walliams. (Think Sebastian. And apologies if you've no idea what I'm talking about.) The production moves things up to I suppose the 1950s but that really makes very little difference to anything except allowing Karolka to look exceptionally blonde and soignée in the final act. Otherwise it's all pretty straightforward, and successfully harrowing. Again, not perhaps my ideal first Janacek-in-the-theatre experience: I yearned for a little more vocal lushness and I'd still rather hear it in Czech. But a satisfying one all the same.

Gala

Yes, I am here, alive and well and beginning to cope with my new, sunny and highly populated home. But no longer, for the time being at least, at leisure to labour for hours over a single post, so I shall have to settle for speed blogging.

The gala on Wednesday night was fantastic. For me, a little like attending three events at once though — an evening where Yvonne Kenny sang, an evening where I got to see Joan Sutherland in person and only after both of those things, a gala. From my side view seat I couldn't always hear all the singing perfectly, but when it mattered, I could — the singers really worth hearing by definition had the voices which carried backwards as well as forwards.

Yvonne sang "Vilja" from The Merry Widow, as I suspected she might, but in the translation she sang in San Francisco in 2002, not the (execrable) one which Opera Australia used in 2004. (I have a mild obsession with Merry Widow translations. Ignore me.) Also we had the final ensemble from Falstaff, including that magnificent high C of hers which I so adore. She was heartstoppingly beautiful, of course. She always is. Funny that. And seeing her so soon after my arrival is the best welcome to my new home I could have asked for.

Other vocal highlights (though still necessarily well and truly in her shadow) — Henry Choo's contribution to the Act I ensemble from Die Zauberflöte, Elizabeth Connell's transcendant Liebestod, Lisa Gasteen's "Dich teure Halle" and the gorgeous Fiona Janes, who really ought to have been given a solo number instead of just the L'italiana in Algieri ensemble she formed part of. Glenn Winslade disappointed, however, in "Fuor del mar" with haphazard coloratura and audible strain, and Rosario La Spina, who I assumed would be fantastic, was, well, not particularly — but perhaps that was just from where I was sitting. His "La donna è mobile" seemed underpowered and discoloured, but earned him rapturous applause, so what do I know?

And Joanie. The second she, with the rest of the offical party (though no Bonynge) entered the theatre I was in tears. What a privilege to be in her presence. At the end of the listed items came the birthday surprises, streamers and sparkles and bright lights — and, in pitch black, a few minutes of the woman herself, spectacular in Sonnambula. Absolutely glorious. Vive la reine.