Opera Australia – The Turk in Italy by Rossini. January 31, 2014.

Sydney Opera House, Circle N21 (A$110.)

Story.  Fiorilla, wife of Geronio, has many lovers, one of whom is Selim the Turk.  Selim also has many lovers, including the gypsy Zaida.  The comedy basically describes the convoluted relationships between these people.  Eventually Selim stays with Zaida, and Fiorilla stays with Geronio.  Thrown into the mix is the poet/writer Prosdocimo who is looking for a plot for a comedy he wants to write, and he also serves somewhat as a narrator/commentator.

Conductor – Andrea Molino.  Narcisco – Luciano Botelho, Fiorilla – Emma Matthews, Prosdocimo – Samuel Dundas, Geronio – Conal Coad, Zaida – Anna Dowsley, Albazar – Graeme Macfarlane, Selim – Paolo Bordogna.

During the time I will be Australia, Opera Australia is staging two operas: The Magic Flute and The Turk in Italy.  I decided to go with the one that I had not seen before.  Stephen and Ruth, Tim and Alyson, and Wally and Ling – who are visiting from Brisbane – joined us.  We had a simple meal at SuperExtra at the Circular Quay train station before the show.

There are few cheap seats at the Opera house (by my standard, anyway), and there are few bad seats in this relatively small auditorium.  Our seats are in the second to last row, but offer a good view of the stage, and – it turns out – are good acoustically.  While I didn’t find the music particularly compelling or complicated, it was nonetheless enjoyable.  The orchestra’s performance provided a good setting for the activities on stage, and the singers’ voices carried well to where we sat.  Emma Matthews as Fiorilla had to contend with quite a few high notes.  She made them comfortably, but there was some harshness in the delivery.  Rossini had quite a few ensemble numbers that were quite enjoyable.

Overall, I thought the music and the singing provided a pleasant 2 ½ hour experience, but not so that one goes away “wowed” by the virtuosity of the singers or the complexity of the score.  But I am okay with such an experience.  This is the Chinese New Year season, and we were just having a family outing, after all.

As to the overall opera experience, my reaction was quite different.  It actually evolved from the initial “why am I here” to “I’m glad I came” by the time the opera ended.  A surprising turn of opinion for me since I am the type that tends to stick to initial impressions.  The best way to describe my transformation is to give a chronological account of the evening.

There was not a curtain hiding the set when the show began.  The set reminds me of an NYCO production of The Elixir of Love: here a diner called Bar Geronio on one side of a relatively small stage.  As the overture was played, a bunch of beach goers came out, wearing (perhaps) 60s style swimming suits (e.g., ladies wearing bikinis that would be considered prudish today.)  The ladies were sitting in beach chairs, the men helping them put on sunscreen.  While some may say this created an interesting visual effect, to me it was just the designer (Gabriela Tylesova) showing off what she can do, and has nothing to do with the story.

Photo used to promote the opera by Opera Australia.  It has nothing to do with the story.

The initial half an hour was spent on what I would call “setting the stage:” introducing the characters and explaining their relationships.  It felt quite disjoint, with the cast going through mechanically the different recitatives, arias, and ensemble numbers.  While I wouldn’t have trouble sitting through another two hours of this, I thought I would be groaning every now and then.

The story doesn’t depend on the period or the location (could be “The Irish in the UK,” for instance), so I have no major quibble with the setting they chose.  But why?  The traditionalist in me would like to see what Rossini originally intended.  I may be able to understand the wish to try something new for a familiar opera like Tosca or La Boheme, but for a work that is seldom staged I would rather go with the original interpretation.  So after the superfluous initial scene, the disjoint performance, this was the third strike.

I go back to something I have said many times before: for me how good an opera is begins and ends with the quality of the music.  The performance improved as the show progressed, and I found myself at some point enjoying it.  The sets and costumes continued to be somewhat cheesy, the humor continued to elicit groans rather than laughs, but I began to think of them as clever and funny (let’s not overstate it, though.)

There was a masquerade party scene that started Act 2 where multiple people disguised themselves as Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe.  For good measure the music score included an Elvis tune (Wally tells me it is “Love me tender love me sweet.”)  Makes me wonder if there are other blasphemous modifications to the score.

Lest the reader may think this is on the level of (say) Mary Stuart, be rest assured it isn’t.  It is more a case of if you lower your standards enough, you will be able to enjoy things you otherwise may not.  The question is if settling is the proper attitude to adopt for life (or concert going.)