Emma’s Partenope as passionate & determined as she is

Soprano Emma Matthews reprises the title role of Handel’s Partenope this month. Allerta! chats to her about singing in a variety of musical styles and writing her own cadenzas

Emma Matthews in the 2011 production of
Partenope at the Sydney Opera House.

Allerta!: How did you find preparing for the role of Partenope?
Emma Matthews: Because it’s sung in English, learning the text was easy – the fast coloratura passages were the challenge.

A: When it comes to ornamentation, the conductor also has to set the house style, is that right?

EM: Absolutely – you can’t have one person doing an amazing display of fireworks in their aria and the next person not doing much. And you have to ensure that nothing is repeated, because two people can write their own cadenzas and when they sing them they’d be almost identical because there are so many rules in baroque music.  In bel canto repertoire you can have a big creative burst to show off the voice; in Handel you can show off the voice but there are rules to which you have to stick – you can’t have perfect fifths or octaves, for example. You also have to be appropriate: I can’t do a top F in a cadenza because the role doesn’t go up there; it would sound silly.

A: When you write a cadenza, what guides you?

EM: You concentrate on your strengths. And you play with words so that you’re accentuating important ones. In one of my cadenzas, for example, I sing a series of staccato notes on the word “laugh”, which creates the impression of giggling.

A: Where did you learn to write ornamentation?

EM: At the Conservatorium, and when preparing for my Handel CD, now a decade ago. I did a lot of work on ornamentation with Frances Greep at the time. He’d worked on Julius Caesar with Yvonne Kenny and Jennifer McGregor.

A: You and Cath Carby have frequently sung boyfriend/girlfriend roles over the past decade – it must be almost second nature by now?

Emma Matthews with Catherine Carby (left) and
Christopher Field (right) in the 2011 production of
Partenope at the Sydney Opera House.

EM: Yes, she’s been my boyfriend for ten years. [Laughs] There’s a deep trust between us.

A: To have a boyfriend who is a girl is an opera convention – do you still have to work at getting it right?

EM: With Cath it’s easy. Our careers have come along together; we became mums together and we’re great friends. We don’t have to get through the awkwardness of “Oh gosh we have to kiss” either – it’s like, “Here we go again. Kiss my breast.” [laughs]

A: Christopher Alden is known for his daring approach to opera productions – his Tosca production for OA was controversial. How have you found working with him?

EM: It was refreshing to work with a director who expected something new of me. Partenope is set in 1920s Paris, and her court is a salon. I almost always perform the roles of innocent young girls who fall in love and have their hearts broken. Partenope by contrast is worldly and sophisticated. She flits from man to man, she doesn’t really know how to love and she’s very powerful. Christopher pushed me down the path of using my own passion, humour and determination in singing the role, and also into being as sensual as I could possibly be. He got me to do a fiendish aria with a top hat and tails – a very Liza Minnelli-type scene – while being very sensual with a chair. After rehearsing it I’d be aching all over. I think it’s going to be a great scene.

A: You’ve worked with all the cast members before. Does working with people you know create a kind of security blanket for an artist?

EM: Absolutely. Partenope has a great cast and we’re all great mates. There’s a lot of trust within the room, we could just throw ourselves into Christopher’s ideas.

Emma Matthews in the 2011 production of
Partenope at the Sydney Opera House.

A: You have done dramatic roles, like Gilda in Rigoletto and Violetta in La Traviata. Now you’re back at the other end of the vocal spectrum, doing light and flighty Handel. How did you find that transition?

EM: Going back into the Handel style was actually very difficult. It’s much lighter than Verdi, and you have to be really flexibly vocally, almost rubbery. And the recitative is very chit-chatty – not at all like Verdi’s.

A: It’s unusual for a singer to perform in the number of styles that you sing in: everything from Richard Mills and Janacek to bel canto, baroque and Verdi. Do you think you’ll choose a specialty or do you enjoy the variety?

EM: I’ve been very lucky to have been with one company, and to have been given the chance to explore everything that I can do. Had I travelled the world I would probably have specialised in bel canto and Handel, since that’s what I’m best at. I don’t have a huge sound and as far as dramatic repertoire is concerned I think Traviata, is as far as I’d go.

A: Is there anything left on your wish list?

EM: I have twelve Mozart concert arias under my belt and I would love to record them.

A: Why not a Mozart aria recital? It would be gorgeous.

EM: Gorgeous? It would be exhausting! I’d need a few other people in that recital!

Graeme Murphy - Aida

Opera Australia's new staging of Aida is shaping up to be a battle royale. In the red corner, an irresistable force: director Graeme Murphy, more famous as a choreographer of contemporary dance (OK, Australia's most famous). In the blue, an immovable object: Giuseppe Verdi's monumental 1871 masterwork, a landmark of the repertoire with all the inertia of an Egyptian pyramid. How will Murphy transform this bastion of the "park and bark" style of opera where singers march into position, then stand and deliver?

"I'm trying to make the movement fluid," he says. To help that feeling, he's plumbing a miniature river Nile across the stage, along with multiple travelators that keep the chorus in constant motion. His enemy is the "static pomposity" of the work; the battlefield should be spectacular.

The original clash of forces in Verdi's drama is the choice forced on the military commander Ramades between the slave Aida and his duty to the king and to his daughter. "I love the fact that he's so conflicted," Murphy says. "We have a man whose dream of power is to rescue Egypt, but who has fallen in love with a slave, and he has to decide which he wants more. The story is about power and politics getting in the way of true romance. Everything is set in the temple, in front of the king, and the characters' moments of privacy are so few. It's akin to today's politicians who have be careful of who they kiss and where they sit. And amid all the pomp and ceremony and warmongering, people are trying to get on with their lives and the fulfilling part of being in love."

Another clash high in Murphy's mind is the traditional tension between an opera and the ballet within it. "Ballet is usually put in as a diversion, not to advance the plot," he says. "I'm trying to make it at least part of the action. I've added dance in places that it might not normally be found." He hasn't always had the mandate to do this: a decade ago he was choreographer but not director for Saint-Saens's Samson et Dalila starring Placido Domingo at the Metropolitan Opera. The New York Times noted that Murphy's "dance sequence and its minimally clad performers underlined a healthy interest in sex among the pagans." Murphy admits that the reason for including a ballet is often "for the entertainment of the male spectator," but he wants the dance movements in this production to reflect "the emotional weaving of three very different people with three very different agendas."

People who think of contemporary dance as incomprehensible sequences of random bodily jitterings might be surprised that its most eminent pioneer loves a good yarn. "People foolishly think that  abstract dance work exists, but it doesn't," he insists. If we see a body moving, we perceive a story behind it. "And a story is only a good story if you care about the people. You could just observe them playing out their nasty little games trying to get what they want, but I want to make an audience care, I want to make them cry, I want them not to worry about sitting in a hard seat or getting to the bus." Fortunately, all the seats in the State Theatre at the Arts Centre are well cushioned, so grab one before they sell out, and feel the emotional force of Murphy's production.

This story was written by Jason Catlett and orignally published in Time Out

Pop-up Spain for Carmen lovers

Imagine Spain popping up next to Sydney’s Royal Botanic Gardens.

The idea is not as fanciful as it may sound: this week, after a year of scrupulous planning, Spain will pop up near Mrs Macquaries Chair, in time for the opening of Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour Carmen.

Those who enter the event site will suddenly find themselves in a street in Seville, with quaint bars and picturesque eateries vying for their attention. “It’s a very different look from last year’s La Traviata [which won 2012 Event of the Year and four Helpmann awards],” says Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour executive producer Louisa Robertson, adding mysteriously that, “There will be quite a few surprises”.

To add to the thrill, the Royal Botanic Gardens are, of course, in Sydney, which means that Spain is popping up on the edge of one of the most beautiful harbours on earth. 

So, as you sip your Sangria and feast on Spanish delicacies, you will be watching ferries and boats sail past and as the sun sets over the Opera House and the first notes of Bizet’s Carmen rings out over the water, you will find yourself transported to a world of rousing music and spectacular theatre.

 For new audience members, it would be a mistake to assume that Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour is like Opera in the Domain, or like a show at the Sydney Opera House. “Carmen, like La Traviata before it, has been specifically designed for the site, which gives audiences the experience of being in a giant, roofless theatre,” Robertson says. And where at the Sydney Opera House, all the action is focused on the stage, at Opera on the Harbour the theme of the night – Spain – extends to the space that the audience frequents before and after the show, and to the food on offer. It’s like Opera House and Domain combined, on steroids.

Site Designer Eamon D’Arcy, whose brief was to create an event distinctly Spanish in flavour, says the idea is for audience members to feel that they are part of something extraordinary. “Our aim is to make people go, ‘Ah this is fantastic!’”  he says.

Hauling out his design file in the Sydney Opera Centre's Joan Sutherland Studio, where we meet in the run-up to Carmen opening night, D’Arcy, who trained as a stage designer at NIDA before working in theatre and commercial design, flicks through the imagery that informed his vision: the red and yellow of the Spanish flag; canopies, Moorish-looking blackboard menus, matadors, pergolas, roses…which have all found their way into the final design. 

In tune with the celebratory atmosphere of the night, the site is being lit by hundreds of metres of festoon lighting. Robertson says: “It’s going to be very pretty, a total immersion-type experience.”

Audience members who watched last year’s chorus arriving in brightly lit water taxis, wishing that they too could step into those fairytale boats and sail away over the harbour, will be happy to know that this year the privilege is being extended to all. Aussie Water Taxis will run a shuttle service from 4.30pm until 7.30pm picking up from the Commissioner Steps Wharf at Circular Quay, directly in front of the MCA, and Man O’ War Jetty, on the eastern side of the Sydney Opera House near the entrance to the Royal Botanic Garden. It will recommence at 10:15pm until 11pm departing from the The Andrew (Boy) Charlton Pool wharf and dropping off at the Commissioner Steps Wharf and Man O’War Jetty. From these two drop off and pick up points the water taxi fare is $10 each way and bookings are not required. Alternatively, you can make a booking for other locations by contacting Aussie Water Taxis directly on 9211-7730.

To make the most of the experience, Robertson recommends that audience members arrive at around 5pm. “The Northern Terrace, with its breathtaking views of the harbour, fills up particularly quickly,” she says

Food is a big part of the experience, and this year a much wider variety of formal and informal dining options are available, all Spanish in flavour. To see what’s on offer, check the Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour website. http://www.operaonsydneyharbour.com.au/visitorsinfo/getting-there

Last year, balmy weather reigned for most of the production run, but Robertson advises audience members to come dressed for all occasions. A wrap or blanket and a raincoat are always a good idea.

To avoid having 3000 people disperse at the same time and scramble for taxis, audiences are being offered several transport options, from getting a bus or train or water taxi to parking at the Domain Car Park and getting the shuttle bus to and from the site. All details are on the Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour website.

The thing to remember though, is that some bars and eateries will stay open from the end of the performance at 10.15pm until midnight. As Robertson says: “Why wait in a taxi queue when you could be enjoying that amazing view and sipping on a Champagne?”

Why indeed.

Can-can do: Biggins in Orpheus debut

 Comedian Jonathan Biggins this month makes his Opera Australia directorial debut in Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld, a light-hearted operetta that uses humour to communicate its sly socio-political satire. The production is a perfect fit for the writer/director, who makes audiences crack up with laughter in his Wharf Review for Sydney Theatre Company every year.

In 2003 Biggins and fellow comedian Phil Scott rewrote Crémieux and Halévy’s libretto for director Ignatius Jones’ then new production for Opera Australia. The 2013 revival is what in the opera world is known as a “restudied” production, meaning that Biggins was free to use his imagination within the confines of the set and costumes of Jones’ show. He and Scott modified the 2003 libretto to reflect the issues that preoccupy contemporary Australia. “This revival is very entertaining and very funny, and I think audiences will enjoy themselves a lot,” Biggins says, adding that Dancing with the Stars judge Todd McKenney, who performs the dual role of Aristaeus/Pluto and leads the can-can, brings “a Broadway sensibility” to the show. McKenney is partnered by Avenue Q star Mitchell Butel (John Styx), who had OA audiences in stitches with his portrayal of Ko-Ko in the Company’s 2011 Mikado revival.

“Orpheus is a kind of cross between a musical and an opera, and the perfect introduction for someone who has been shying away from the notion of opera,” Biggins says. The production’s laughs come from turning audience expectation on its head. For example, Jupiter is an old lech and Eurydice a shrill footballer’s wife. When Pluto kidnaps her and takes her to Hades, he quickly realises that he’d rather he hadn’t. As for Orpheus, he’s obsessed with his own image, considers himself a great artist and keeps his marriage to Eurydice alive for the sake of public appearance.

The star of the show is Mark Thompson’s rich and sumptuous set which, says Biggins, is full of visual wit. “It has pastoral fields, for example, but they’re confused with Outback Australia, with corrugated iron adorning the tops of temples.”  

Besides reworking the libretto, with help from Thompson and conductor Andrew Greene, Biggins also trimmed the show into a shorter and lighter version of the 2003 production. The children’s chorus was one of the things that went. “Unlike in Bohème, where they’re an essential part of the plot, in Orpheus the children don’t  serve a particular purpose. So instead of having them appear as Cupid’s love police in the second act, we got four gentlemen from the chorus dressed up as identical Inspector Clouseau, which was funnier, sharper and briefer, and which made the point.”

Losing the chorus also took care of the problem of children not being allowed in the Green Room at the same time as half the cast. “The costumes are rather lewd and suggestive, which meant that in 2003 the children had be hidden in their dressing rooms with their chaperones,” Biggins says.

He was not involved in the casting process and admits, with a laugh, that as a director hailing from the world of spoken theatre, initially he found this operatic custom a little daunting. “In opera there are all sorts of restrictions that have to be taken into account – who’s available, who isn’t, who works for the Company – but it’s a bit of a shock when you meet your cast for the first time in the rehearsal room!”

In comedy, with its dependence on tempo and timing, a rapport between conductor and director is essential, and Biggins says he thoroughly enjoyed collaborating with Andrew Greene, whom he describes as “not precious at all”.  

If contracting and polishing were part of the package that made such a success of Julie Taymor’s 2012 Magic Flute production, Biggins points out that Orpheus is a little more mischievous than Flute. “Offenbach was making fun of the French bourgeoisie acting like the Gods of Olympus getting down and dirty with the demi-monde while keeping up a pretence of propriety,” he says,  “And not much has changed since then.”  

Nevertheless, this Orpheus is naughty rather than salacious. “Everyone has fun in hell, there’s a lot of bondage and leather gear, but it’s all done very tongue in cheek.”

Sounds like the summer season is drawing to a close on a high and slightly raucous note.  

The Operative Word with José Carbó

Why do you do the job that you do? Singing is my passion. Who wouldn’t be happy making a living from what they love doing?

Who has influenced you most professionally? Too many people to mention, but they know who they are. The biggest influence has probably been the school teachers who taught me how to sing by ear and feel.

Is there any other profession that you would have liked to have followed? I left school wanting to become a fine furniture maker. I still love working timber with my hands.

What is your idea of perfect happiness? Living in love.

If you could have dinner with a historical figure, who would it be? Mahatma Gandhi.

What is your greatest extravagance? My 3D 6000-inch TV set!

One thing you regret is…Failed relationships.

If you could have any opera character as a friend, who would it be? Rossini’s Figaro. I’m sure I’d have a great time with this wily, crafty, super-intelligent, quick-witted chameleon. I bet he’d cook a mean barbie too.

Who or what is the love of your life? My two boys.

What are you optimistic about? Opera Australia under Lyndon Terracini.

You would like to devote more time to…Playing the guitar and holidays.

What is your favourite food? What isn't is more like it!

What is your most treasured possession? My soul.

Which is the opera that got you hooked? Rigoletto

Which opera do you never need to hear again? Così fan tutte. Burn all the scores worldwide – let’s not do things by halves!

If there’s one quote that really speaks to you it’s…“Mediocrity will always find a cup of tea and scones welcoming it beneath the skirt of subjectivity”

What is your idea of misery? Having to watch your child starve in your arms and being powerless to stop it.

You still hope to…Sing at the Met and Covent Garden.

Which characteristics do you most admire in others? Intelligence. Honesty. Sense of humour.

You feel guilty when you think about…My last croissant!

What type of holiday do you most enjoy? The type where I plan nothing, get in the car and drive north.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Whatever happened to my hair? Someone please find my hair!

Who is your favourite band? Police, Stones, Earth Wind and Fire, Sting, Queen, AC/DC. I could go on and on!

You spend too much money on…Gluten free food. It’s a crime how expensive it is.

Your greatest achievement has been…The never-ending learning curve of fatherhood. I can only hope it one day becomes my greatest achievement.

The book everyone loved but you could not finish was..I promise to read again when I stop having to memorise music all the time.

How do you stay up to date with new technology and trends? I don’t.

Who is your favourite heartthrob? She lives in London!

Sultry Carmen a perfect fit for Sydney Harbour

Opera Australia’s Wardrobe facility is a flurry of activity, with glittering silks, Spanish frills and full-skirted costumes filling every available space. We caught up with costume designer Julie Lynch to find out how costumes for a performance of this scale differ to those in the theatre.

In front of a clothes rack, a machinist is ironing 25 metres of orange satin destined for a single skirt. “I owe you an apology!” Lynch tells the machinist with laughter. By the window a dummy is clad in a sexy figure-hugging red dress over which an embroidered gypsy shawl has been draped. The magnificent dress is to be worn by Carmen performers, mezzo-sopranos Milijana Nikolic and Rinat Shaham.

“[Director] Gale Edwards wanted a sexy and stripped-back rather than a village-y look,” says Lynch, who has been working on the production for the past year. Lynch used Fellini’s La Dolce Vita and 60s icons Sophia Loren and Gina Lollobrigida as visual references for her designs. She enjoys collaborating with Edwards, with whom she’s also recently worked on La bohème and Salome. “Gale has a very clear idea of what she wants, which is how I prefer to operate,” she says. “It’s when the director relies on the creatives to follow their own paths that you’re in dangerous territory.”

Lynch and Edwards have both had frequent and successful collaborations with set designer Brian Thomson. The partnership works because of Edwards’ appreciation of design and Thomson’s flair for simplicity, Lynch says. “With Gale, you’re working in an environment where design is really important. And Brian’s work has a simplicity that makes people stand out. As a costume designer I love that.”

Because of its scale, Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour - Carmen demands different thinking to that of a production at the Sydney Opera House or The Arts Centre Melbourne. “I was really fortunate that I got to see La Traviata last year because it enabled me to experience how distance affects how you see the costumes,” Lynch says.

To begin with, a big set generally dwarfs people, and as costume designer you have to find ways to make them visible. In the planning phase, this means avoiding small patterns and visually cutting people up too much. From a shelf underneath a working surface, Lynch pulls out a roll of black fabric with apple-sized red dots. Skirts for the girls. From a distance the apples will look like polka dots.

Groups of artists also have to be costumed very carefully. “When the stage is large and the audience far away, a single colour becomes one big image, while lots of different colours become ants on stage. So what we have is a yellow sweep of people, a green sweep, a red sweep.”

Choosing fabric that reflects light is crucial. “If you put half your cast in sparkling fabric and the other half in matt, the matt people will disappear.” In the Wardrobe buyer’s office, Lynch pulls out a file with sketches detailing embroidered epaulettes on matadors’ shoulders. “We drew diagrams that showed exactly where we wanted crystals, and the Wardrobe buyer scanned them in and sent them off to be embroidered in India. The crystals reflect the light.”

Every costume designer works with a particular artist in mind, and in Carmen the title role is shared by artists with dissimilar body shapes. “Milijana is tall and statuesque; Rinat is smaller. So you adjust the costume to flatter the figure for which it is intended. The final look will seem the same to the audience, but there will have been changes that personalise the costume for the artist.”

Despite so much thought going into each outfit, Lynch keeps tweaking in the final stages of preparation. By the time stage orchestrals begin, she’s thinking of practical considerations – someone’s tripping on a hem, a costume needs a piece of jewellery, make-up or hair needs adjusting.

And sometimes a costume needs to be worn in, known as breaking the costume down. Lynch pulls out a gypsy skirt in glittering shades of green. When you look at the original next to its broken-down version, it almost seems a shame…but then you remember that this is showbiz, and that on stage, at the right moment, you will see exactly what you’re meant to see.

In the hands of consummate professionals, it always comes together.

Opera Australia pays tribute to James Strong

Opera Australia is saddened to learn of the death of James Strong, who was on the Board of Opera Australia for five years. After this time he stood down from the Board when he agreed with the Federal Government to lead the Review into Orchestras, which in turn led to new funds being invested in the sector. James made a major contribution to Opera Australia and an even larger contribution to the Arts in Australia.

"James Strong was a great supporter of all the arts and in particular, opera," said Ziggy Swikowski, Chairman of the Opera Australia Board. "He was on the Opera Australia Board from 1999 - 2004 and offered valuable wisdom, insight and passion for opera, to the company. On leaving Opera Australia the relationship continued, with James being a frequent and welcome visitor to performances. His passing is a great loss to business and the arts alike."

Former Opera Australia CEO Adrian Collette said, "For me as CEO James was a wonderful, humane source of advice and support. He was well known for his sartorial elegance; but also had a most elegant mind which was, rarely, both incisive and imaginative. He loved the arts, but was also serious about our business and sustainability. He will be missed."