Behind the scenes: Of Mice and Men #5

Written by Caroline Baum

Week 5: The Opera Theatre, Sydney Opera House

Barry Ryan as George and Anthony Dean Griffey as Lennie

‘I’ve been here thirty years, no one told me make up had moved!’ says Barry Ryan. Wandering the labyrinthine corridors he’s eventually found his way to the very shmick new make-up room which replaces a space the size of a cupboard. Jacqueline Mabardi is having arched period eyebrows painted on while Barry gets some stubble.

There’s a real buzz in the air when everyone finds out that composer/librettist Carlisle Floyd is going to be at the piano dress rehearsal.

Anthony Dean Griffey as Lennie

Now in his late eighties, the spry dapper gentleman with the soft southern drawl is surprisingly chipper after his non-stop flight from Florida and ecstatic about being inside the Opera House (‘to see this and Gehry’s Guggenheim in Bilbao in the same year is really something,’ he whispers) accompanied by his niece Jane, whose husky voice hints at her own talent as a jazz singer.

 

No one told the dog the composer was attending.  Even with the creator present, it does not perform as it should. There’s way too much tail wagging.

‘That dog looks very alive,’ says Floyd. It certainly does not behave as if it’s on its last legs. Floyd makes a useful suggestion: maybe the handler could dress up as a ranch hand to be on stage for more reassurance and control. Having seen more than twenty productions of this piece, Floyd knows all the tricks. ‘I remember one time the dog just walked off in the middle of the scene,’ he chuckles. From the mutterings at the production desk, my guess is that Bruce is thinking: ‘Come back Frankie (his red heeler, sacked in week one, see Blog Week 2) all is forgiven!’

Jacqueline Mabardi as Curley's Wife

‘That’s nice,’ murmurs Floyd appreciatively when he sees how Bruce brings Curley’s wife into the scene in Act 2. It’s great to see how open he is to new ways of presenting a work that must feel as close to him as one of his own children. The scene change from Act 1 to Act 2 now happens so fast that the extra minute of music he wrote so obligingly at Bruce’s request is not actually necessary but no one’s contemplating dropping it now.

Someone needs to tell the dog to lift its game.

At least - unlike La bohème - there are no children in the show.  




See Barry Ryan and Anthony Dean Griffey sing in Of Mice and Men in the below YouTube video, "An' we'll live off the fat of the land":

Behind the scenes: Of Mice and Men #4

Written by Caroline Baum

Week 4: The Opera Centre, Sydney

I don’t know why the German term sitzprobe is used universally for this kind of rehearsal but it translates literally as ‘sitting rehearsal.’ It’s the first encounter between the orchestra and the singers without props or costumes and it’s like a big mapping exercise of how the piece all fits together. It’s a crucial familiarisation and memorising opportunity because once they are in the pit, the musicians often can’t actually hear the singers.

Fitting more than sixty musicians into the Joan Sutherland Studio is a tight squeeze. The singers are on a raised plinth to one side of the orchestra, and the chorus are at the back. Some players are behind acrylic shields to protect them from the volume of the sound at full tilt, because the acoustics in here bear no relation to the theatre and the sound has nowhere to go. Others, like the double bass players, just block their ears when the brass gets loud. The cramped configuration makes the act of singing over the instruments an almost athletic act.

‘The balance will be ok in the pit?’ Maestro Molino asks Tony Legge.

Tony reassures him. The Maestro looks relieved.

As Assistant Music Director, Tony is a human operatic encyclopedia. In his tweedy jackets and jumpers, cufflinks and accent, I’ve cast him in my mind as a slim version of Stephen Fry. Today, underneath the score, which he follows as if he were reading the newspaper, he’s also got a copy of Rugby Tough. Hidden depths…

Later in the afternoon, Bruce, designer John Stoddart and lighting designer Nigel Levings are all in the opera theatre to look at the set for the first time and to finesse details.

The projections look superb and the barn is breathtakingly beautiful with light filtering through its wall slats. It reminds me of the barn in Peter Weir’s Witness. (Although John Stoddart did not design that film, he worked with Weir on The Long Way Back for which he had to design prison bunks, which don’t look that different from the ones in this barn.)

When I ask where he got the look for this production his reply is the now universal answer: Google. 

 

‘Reckon the fire will burn through the first act?’ asks Bruce.

The Maestro is unhappy with the timing of the curtain coming down at the end of Act Two.

‘I don’t want it to come down on Tony’s last words because of the noise the motor makes. Can we wait till the end of the scene?’ he shouts up from the pit.

His wish is swiftly granted.

There’s a tall ladder in the barn scene. I wouldn’t want to have to come down it. Wonder how Tony Griffey feels about it.

The Luger Barry uses at the end of the opera is broken, setting off Bruce’s alarm bells. ‘I had a gun in Fanciulla that never went off. It was ridiculous and it’s made me very wary,’ Bruce grumbles.

Later in the week when it’s fixed, it fires without a hitch but now no one can hear it. Turns out that no one had thought of adjusting the speakers in the auditorium to pick it up. Once that’s sorted, the problem is fixed. One less thing to think about in the final countdown.

Weekly Review Competition Winner: Thomas Wilson, Capriccio

The first week in the Opera Australia Sydney winter season and we had four people send us reviews of Capriccio (click here for show details and to book tickets or click here for a video overview and preview).

Congratulations go to Thomas Wilson: You have won two tickets to an opera of your choice in 2011!

Remember that for your chance at two 2011 opera tickets, you can email your review to online@opera-australia.org.au, or post it online (a blog or Facebook note) and alert us to it on Facebook or Twitter.

Last week's entries included:

- Our Winner: Thomas Wilson, posting his review as an open post on Facebook

- Stuart Annels, posting on his blog and linking to it on Twitter

- Minnie Biggs, submitting the review via email

- David Woodgate, posting his review as a comment on our Facebook page

Our winning entry (with added photos and links):

Some thoughts on Capriccio

Capriccio wouldn't have immediately leapt out the brochure at me as an opera to see, but I enjoyed last year's production of Rosenkavalier so much, and reports from the general were so positive, that I decided at the last minute to go along to opening night.

Let me say at the outset that, as a relative newcomer to the opera world, I had no real frame of reference to judge this production against. I was familiar with the music from the classic recording with Schwarzkopf as the Countess, conducted by Sawallisch, but hadn't reached the stage of comparing productions on video.

My first impression when the curtain came up, confirmed as the evening progressed, was that the design had a simple elegance which fitted the piece neatly, allowing the opera ample room to unfold without being distracting. The aesthetic at times reminded me of the very impressive production of Partenope earlier in the year, but if anything Strauss' Konversationstück fit even more easily into this setting, with the references to Gluck and contemporaries somehow not jarring at all. Likewise, the direction aided the story of the opera without ever becoming obtrusive, and it was plain that a great deal of attention had been paid to the details. I also appreciated the placement of the division of Strauss's one act - I assume this is customary, but it was effective.



Andrew Brunsdon as the composer Flamand with
Cheryl Barker as the Countess Madeleine



The star of the evening was undoubtedly Cheryl Barker, but given the nature of the piece, that was probably a foregone conclusion. In such a static, and musically "chatty", opera as Capriccio, the ability of the performers to keep an audience engaged is definitely put to the test, and Barker did not disappoint. She was always engaged, and seemed to find great nuance in the character, painting a sympathetic portrait of a woman forced to make a difficult choice. Strauss's music did not allow her much scope for displaying her vocal abilities, but in the final scene she more than rose to the challenge, with ample reserves of gorgeous tone which carried easily over the orchestral climaxes. She was equally able to produce floating pianissimi, and one glorious decrescendo in particular reminded me of her capabilities in more lyrical writing for the voice.

In the role of the composer Flamand, Andrew Brunsdon's light, elegant tenor suited the character well. He only very occasionally sounded slightly strained at climax points, and gave a convincing portrayal of Flamand as a somewhat shy man who nonetheless held a deep conviction in the power of his art.

As the Countess's other suitor, the poet Olivier, Michael Lewis's performance was impressively forthright and contrasted strongly with Flamand. He sang with powerful, forward tone, not as sweet as Brundson, but at times even more engaging. His performance also provided an effective contrast between the characters, with Olivier seeming rather more sure of himself. Overall the two suitors were powerfully contrasted both vocally and dramatically.



Cheryl Barker as the Countess Madeleine with her brother
the Count, played by Christopher Tonkin



Christopher Tonkin, whom I'd not heard before, was another impressive performer. His Count was reasonably reserved, but he hammed it up to great effect in his recital of the sonnet, doubtless striking a chord with everyone who's sat through the impassioned performance of someone who really, really believes that they can act. His bright, clear singing of the role was stylish but not particularly remarkable - I look forward to hearing him in a role which gives him somewhat more scope vocally.

Tania Ferris as the actress Clairon was a similarly effective performer. Her character was shallow at times, but clearly intended to be so, and she contributed elegantly to the ensembles. Also deliberately shallow were Nicole Car and John Longmuir as the Italian singers. Having only heard Car at Opera in the Domain, I was interested to hear her properly in an unamplified setting. Initial impressions were confirmed, as both she and Longmuir coped well with the (rather severe) technical demands of their parts. Car also gulped down the onstage sherry very comically. There was more than a hint of the famous Callas-Baum rivalry of the 1950 Mexico tour (heightened by the fact that Car's costume matched fairly closely the outfit worn by Callas for one of her interviews with Lord Harewood - I assume this was not deliberate).



The chorus of servants



The ensemble of servants blended well and provided an interesting counterpart to the main characters - and I couldn't help thinking of the next layer of "servants", the backstage crew whose work so often goes unacknowledged at the opera. Richard Anderson as the major-domo was unobtrusive as befits his character, and Graeme Macfarlane's short appearance as the prompter was carried off to good comic effect. He also remained amusingly in character for curtain calls. Also worthy of commendation were the dancers, Aude Florentin and Adrian van Winkelhof, who successfully pulled off that most difficult of arts, performing like a bad performer while still maintaining control.

The orchestra coped well with the difficulties of Strauss's writing, although as always the difficult acoustic of the Opera Theatre (with that awful pit) did them no favours. Nicholas Braithwaite conducted well, and seemed to warm to the piece as the evening wore on, drawing a rich, well-balanced sound from the orchestra in the final scene despite the limitations of the venue.

Overall, this production of Capriccio was all that could be asked for. While I am not sure if I would return to see Capriccio a second time, I am glad to have seen it once. I don't understand very well those who left partway through (and there were a few, including the couple to my right - either they knew something I didn't about how this opera should be staged, or they hadn't thought to find out about the opera they were going to see before hand). A pity, really, as the final scene was, to me, at least, the most compelling. Capriccio is by no means the first opera that I would recommend to first-time opera goers, but it has a lot to offer to those more familiar with the art. It makes substantial demands on its audience, but is infintitely rewarding if one is prepared to devote the attention it deserves.



Conal Coad as the
director La Roche



Post-script: I have just realised that I neglected to comment on Conal Coad's excellent La Roche. His was an equally impressive performance, suitably bombastic at times and only being drowned by the orchestra in his line when he complains about being dr...owned by the orchestra - an effect which could have been played up more than it was. Overall his performance provided a perfect comic foil to the more weighty questions concerning the other characters, without becoming vacuous. His performance was outstanding at fitted perfectly into the fabric of the opera.

Behind the scenes: Of Mice and Men #3

Written by Caroline Baum

Week Three: The Opera Centre, Sydney



Anthony Dean Griffey as Lennie in
Houston Opera's Of Mice and Men



Suddenly there are rifles and pistols in the room. Props, of course, but there’ll be a real gun with an armourer out on set when Bruce takes the cast to film a scene in the bush near Ryde.

‘I’ll come on the bus with the cast and weapons,’ says Stage Manager Crissie Higgins, making it sound as if she’s bringing a picnic.

Film crews are notoriously pampered when it comes to catering. Virginia Duigan, Bruce’s wife has taken on the task of sourcing decent coffee and food for the team he has assembled. They never start the day without a hot breakfast, but will have to make a sacrifice on this occasion.

‘And we’ll need an urn, loo paper, and a first aid kit,’ says Chrissie.

The plan is to shoot the scene, in which the posse is out hunting Lennie after he’s killed Curley’s wife, in the morning but grade it to look as if it’s taking place in late afternoon or dusk. 

‘Don’t shave’ Bruce reminds the cast, 'I don't want you looking glabrous’

‘I thought you said glamourous,’ jokes Barry.

‘We can do stubble in make up,’ notes Cath.

The puppy Tony has to pet now has a name, Walnut, to suit its diminutive size.

The Kleenex labrador (see Blog 2) gets Maestro Molino’s stamp of approval on his first day.

‘I like the sound of his panting,’ he says of the dog’s uncanny ability to breathe in time with the music (that’s what you get when you work with pros).



Blocking sketches for Opera Australia's
production of Of Mice and Men



Jackie now has the wig on; it looks better than expected, not too brassy or peroxide. The test is what happens when she unpins the hair so that Tony can stroke it, with fateful consequences. Wig maker Philip Cox pops in to watch the scene and see how his creation behaves. It is so used to being held up that it resists a bit, bouncing back into shape. Jackie has to hold on to it so the ends don’t flip up like wired plaits.

Wigs can cause havoc in opera, like the time in Vienna in the 70s when Galina Vishnevskaya as Tosca did not realise that her hairpiece had caught fire as she stood near a flaming sconce. She kept singing until her Scarpia and Cavaradossi came to her rescue, though she still suffered minor burns to her scalp.

As Candy, Jud is perfecting his limp with the aid of a trick Bruce has taught him from the movies. He puts a small piece of eraser in his shoe to mimic a pebble and it makes it genuinely uncomfortable for him to walk on.

There’s a lot of discussion about the final scene in which George shoots Lennie in the back of the head.

‘I’d like lots of blood, why can’t we have one of those exploding blood plasters?’ asks deputy stage manager Garry Alcorn who clearly wants a Tarantino effect.

‘Do you think it’s possible that Lennie would stand up and turn around after being shot at point blank range?’ Maestro Molino asks politely.

‘Remember that woman in the US who was shot recently at close range five times and she’s now walking and talking?’ Bruce counters, referring to the miraculous recovery of congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords.

‘Mythbusters did a program about it,’ says Chrissie, inadvertently betraying her viewing habits.

‘Those rifles look a bit new, we better kick them around a bit to age them,’ she adds while Barry tries out a Luger for size.

‘We have to get the gunshot exactly right, not just the timing, but the smoke,’ insists Bruce.

‘If it doesn’t sound and look right we’re history.’

Some things are easier in the movies.

Behind the scenes: Of Mice and Men #2

Written by Caroline Baum

Week Two: The Opera Centre, Sydney



Fired: Frankie leaves set


Forget mice. Dogs have been the problem with this piece from the beginning, when an early draft of Steinbeck’s novel was eaten by Charley, the French poodle who accompanied him everywhere.

Now Frankie, Bruce’s red heeler, has got the sack. For farting. And following Bruce around. And getting tangled in the rope she’s tied up with. Basically, she’s untrained and too much of a risk. So she had to go. (Fortunately, she was not shot like the dog in the opera.)

She’ll be replaced by a professional pooch - the original Kleenex labrador puppy - supplied by an agency for performing animals at the extravagant rate of $700 per rehearsal and $900 per show.

The humans in the show are proving easier to coach though it’s taking time for the Aussies to master the right American twang under the guidance of Ron Stevens, a tenor veteran of the 70s who happens to come from California, so he has just the right accent. A little word like ‘can’t’ proves to be a deceptively stubborn stumbling block.



Jud Arthur in rehearsals



The man with the most convincing physique for the piece is undoubtedly Jud Arthur who sings the role of Candy. He’ll have no trouble convincing anyone he’s a labourer with those biceps. You don’t get those singing, even if you are a bass. He once played rugby union in Italy and then switched to opera when he had to retire due to injury. But his day job is shoeing horses and he also trains as a body builder. Perfect casting.

The chorus members are getting used to the herbal cigarettes they are smoking for authenticity. Better than a recent production of Carmen in WA with no cigars - the girls from the cigar factory rolled the tobacco leaves on their thighs and then put them in a basket as if they were preparing stuffed vine leaves for dinner.

In rehearsal, the climactic fight scene between Lennie and Curley’s wife (we never learn her name in the novel or in the score) takes six hours to choreograph and now looks real.

‘What kind of floor will it be on stage?’ asks Jackie Mabardi.

‘Wood,’ says Bruce. ‘Why are you asking?’

‘Just wondering about splinters,’ says Jackie, who gets dragged across the floor and has good reason to wonder how that’s going to feel.

Meanwhile Anthony is getting used to the soft toy he has to pretend is the puppy he accidentally strokes to death. He plays with it, trying to pose it convincingly, angling its paws over his forearm. It’s not yet looking completely convincing, but at least it doesn’t fart.

Postscript: Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley is about a midlife road trip the author undertook with his dog as companion. It helped him win the Nobel prize for literature, so the dog redeemed himself.

Capriccio: Fostering artistic development at Opera Australia

Guest post by the Chief Executive of Opera Australia, Adrian Collette AM



Michael Lewis and Andrew
Brunsdon as the rival lovers

 I have just returned from the ‘General’ (the final dress rehearsal) of the opening opera of our Winter season, Capriccio, by Richard Strauss. (Given the central conceit of Capriccio – a whimsically satirical play about what is more important in opera itself, words or music, I should say that it is composed by Richard Strauss, but its equally important librettist is Clemens Krauss.)

When viewing a final rehearsal we try to stay as objective as possible – it’s our last chance to check technical details, whether musical or theatrical: anything from the fall of a gown to the squeakiness of a stage revolve to the subtlety of a cadence. But sometimes, no matter how one tries, professional disinterest is impossible - as it was for me today. 


John Longmuir and Nicole Car as
the Italian singers in Capriccio


The rehearsal was wonderful to attend for so many reasons: the beautifully detailed revival of this production by the international master of all matters Straussian (Richard Straussian, that is), John Cox; the overall excellence of the ensemble that performs it; the excitement of hearing Andrew Brunsdon's development in this repertoire, or hearing the warm, elegant baritone of Christopher Tonkin, who has returned to us after a stint overseas; or perhaps seeing a perennial Oz Opera touring artist, Tania Ferris, take her opportunity on the main stage as Clairon? As always there is a particular thrill in seeing this kind of professional development in fine young artists - indeed it reflects one of our prime purposes as Australia’s national opera company. (Not to mention two members of our Moffatt Oxenbould Young Artist Program who feature in this production, Nicole Car and John Longmuir.)



Cheryl Barker as the
Countess Madeleine



But then there is another kind of artistic development, one which is not about youth but about the progress of an artist at the top of her game -  and it was this that I found so personally delightful at today’s rehearsal. I am talking of course of Cheryl Barker's performance as the Countess in Capriccio. For anyone with a sense of the history of our company, we know that part of its meaning is defined by watching serious artists take on major, defining roles in the repertoire when the time is right for them to do so. In Cheryl’s case we have seen her give utterly compelling performances of Puccini’s heroines: Mimì, Cio-Cio-San, Manon Lescaut, Tosca; and the most extraordinary Suor Angelica I have ever seen. We have also seen her explore Janáček’s wonderful heroines: Jenufa, Katya Kabanova and Emilia Marty, all under the direction of Neil Armfield. And now it is particularly thrilling to see Cheryl take on the heroines of Richard Strauss: her award winning performance of Arabella in 2008, for example, or her portrayal of The Marschallin last year (I have never heard ‘that trio’ so beautifully sung!); and now the Countess (If you loved her as The Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier you will fall again for her Countess in Capriccio). And, yes, there is more to come next year, but we will have to wait a month or so to find out which Strauss heroine comes next in the artistic life of Cheryl Barker and Opera Australia.





Tania Ferris and Christopher Tonkin
as the actress Clairon and the Count



For anyone who has a serious interest in opera, this kind of creative exploration is as good as it gets. There are moving stories in the life of an ensemble company about the development of artists, young artists or artists creating a chapter in our ongoing narrative. This one speaks volumes to me.