REVIEW: Turandot
Puccini died before finishing Turandot (it was completed by Franco Alfano), but there is nothing in the music that suggests the great composer was frail or past his best years. It’s a magnificent work, popular with aficionados and casual theatre-goers alike.
The current production by Opera Australia has the right mix of creative virtue, tongue-in-cheek humour, grand spectacle, and rippling emotion to satisfy a range of cultural palates. Graeme Murphy’s joyous sense of artistry is evident in the direction and choreography (still holding up nearly 30 years after he first crafted it). He fills every part of the stage without it ever feeling crowded. His choreographic wit is most clearly expressed in the clever use of large, scroll-like screens used as props for the three ministers, Ping, Pong, and Pang. The props are variously used as swings, sedans, backgrounds, seats, with burly attendants in black bearing the load.
The set is extraordinary. Giant unfurled fans obscure the stage as audience members take their seats. When they close they reveal a large stone face dominating the entire rear wall of the stage. At key points, the stone face slides away like a cave door, revealing the inner sanctum in which the Emperor Altoum and Princess Turandot reside.
Altoum is sung with reverence and a touch of heart-warming frailty by Graeme MacFarlane. Turandot is sung with powerful voice and imposing defiance by Amber Wagner. Mariana Hong, who sings Liu, is utterly heart-rending in a role that often threatens to steal the lead. Calaf, the character who gets to sing one of the most famous arias of all time, Nessun Dorma, is sung with charismatic charm by Andeka Gorrotxategi.
With children’s chorus, impressive stage effects, big oiled muscle men, and a bit of feminist politics in the subtext, there’s something in Turandot for everyone.
Until Mar 30. Sydney Opera House, Bennelong Point, Sydney. $47-$361+b.f. Tickets & Info: www.sydneyoperahouse.com
Reviewed by Rita Bratovich.