By Peter McCallum
The Merry Widow
★★★★
Opera Australia
Joan Sutherland Theatre, Opera House
Reviewed January 5
Karl Kraus, pointed satirist of early 20th century Austro-German affairs, is reputed to have remarked that in Berlin, things were serious but not desperate, whereas in Vienna they were desperate but not serious. In a different sense the same might be said of Opera Australia’s return to the stage this year with Lehar’s The Merry Widow, although, in what they have so far committed to in their 2021 season, things promise to become more serious provided they don’t become more desperate.
Julie Lea Goodwin as Hanna in The Merry Widow.Credit: Steven Siewert
Julie Lea Goodwin as the widow, Hanna, lights up the stage with regal bearing and fluid vocal radiance, shaping the lines of Vilja, the operetta’s best-known aria, with generous, unforced grace. For her would-be lover, Danilo, Alexander Lewis creates a character caught in an ambiguous space between reluctant debauchee and ineffectual egalitarian, saved, for the time being, by good looks and smooth voice. As Valencienne, the ambassador’s wife, hovering on the brink of infidelity, Stacey Alleaume sings with a wonderfully rounded full sound and preserves compact vitality of spirit. David Whitney, as the ambassador, Baron Zeta, is convincing in the diplomatic skill of failing to see what is before his eyes and sings with neatly groomed sound in a persona of amiable optimism.
As his dourly discreet assistant, Njegus, Benjamin Rasheed never fails to state the obvious without perfectly placed, adenoidal cynicism. The persistent, ultimately disappointed seducer, Virgilio Marino as Camille, delineated his declarations with clear-cut, foursquare phrases. These principals are accompanied by a supporting cast whose job is to be ridiculous which they do with high professionalism – Richard Anderson, Alexander Hargreaves, Jane Ede, Brad Cooper, Luke Gabbedy, Angela Hogan, Tom Hamilton and Dominica Matthews.
Graeme Murphy’s production is at its most colourful in the mock-Balkan dances at the start of Act II, the colour well set off by designers Michael Scott-Mitchell (set), Jennifer Irwin (costume) and Damien Cooper (lighting). Murphy gives a slightly discomforting, transactional overtness to the dance by the grisettes in Maxim’s nightclub but otherwise the work’s one-dimensional assumptions about class, gender, patriarchy, power and money are left intact.
Director Graeme Murphy gives a transactional overtness to the dance by the grisettes in Maxim’s nightclub.Credit: Steven Siewert
Conductor Brian Castles-Onion drew out the expressive sentimentality of moments like the work’s famous waltz with flexible unhurried tempos though whipped up madcap speeds where needed. This revival retains a sense of pace with admirable timing and energy although the use of amplification was unfortunate and unneeded, sometimes artificially separating and boosting the voices which all had strength and energy in abundance. For fans of operetta, this non-seriousness is highly worthy of support, and not just to stave off desperation.