Turandot

Once again the weather was stunningly kind for the opening night of this, Giacomo Puccini’s very last opera. Set in China, it tells the story of the icy princess Turandot, who avenged the barbaric humiliation of her ancestor, Lou-Ling, thousands of years ago by executing any suitors that could not answer three esoteric riddles. That is until Calaf, an exiled Mongolian prince, falls in love with her and determines to win her.

Stage director Chen Shi-Zheng has “always shied away from opera repertory such as Turandot and Madama Butterfly because most productions present a narrow-minded view of Asian women”, but then came the opportunity to stage Turandot in the open air on Sydney Harbour.

On Dan Potra’s vast set, which includes a 60metre long, fire-breathing dragon, an 18metre high pagoda and a crane that flies the Mandarin high around the stage at the opening of the production and, later, suspends the Emperor on his throne above the stage, Chen Shi-Zheng takes the Italian opera into a more contemporary China, that certainly gives this production “a sense of authenticity and weight”.

Scott Zielinski’s lighting and Leigh Sachwitz’s visuals – stars, feathers, invading armies, soft, pink lotus blossoms – that snake along the mighty side of the dragon -evoke many changing images of China. So too do the shimmering costumes of the forty-eight strong chorus and the colourful kimono-style coats and black headdresses of Pong, Pang and Ping, the “Ministers of Execution”, whose theatrical choreography and timing bring quirky oriental humour to the production.

The Opera dancers add yet another Chinese element to the production. In flashing metallic uniforms, the palace guards mix ancient sword dancing and contemporary choreography. Conversely, the sweeping extended sleeves and tiny, intricate steps of Turandot’s maids conjure a delicate and seemingly more peaceful past.

Put all of this together on a balmy autumn evening, with the backdrop of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, the music of the fifty-eight strong AO orchestra and the carefully controlled amplification some of the world’s most sought after voices ringing clearly and strongly into the night, and it is evident that Chen Shi-Zheng has achieved his vision of making this production of Turandot a site specific spectacle for a twenty-first century audience.

As Turandot, Serbian Dragana Radakovic thrills the audience with both the strength of her range and control – and her bravery, singing as she does from the very top of the palace tower on a platform that is slowly lowered on an immense pulley system until steps lead her to the stage. This is spectacle indeed, as is her glistening costume that reflects traditional design and contemporary flair.

Spinto tenor Riccardo Massi uses his powerful, persuasive voice to try to melt the iciness of the princess, eventually blending beautifully with her in their final duet as they, and their voices, rise to the dizzying height of the palace tower.

As is usual with Turandot, the loyal servant Lui, whose love for Cafal has led her to protect his blind father Timur in exile, wins the hearts of the audience. Korean-born lyric soprano Hyeseoung Kwon begs Cafal, sweetly but unsuccessfully, not to pursue the possibility of losing his life at the hands of Turandot’s executioners, and steadfastly refuses to give up the secret of his name as she is horribly tortured in front of the court.

Conal Coad performs the aging and dependent Timur, John Longmuir, Benjamin Rasheed and Luke Gabbedy the comedic trio Pong, Pang and Ping and David Lewis is the high and distant Emperor. All express the depth and beauty of Puccini’s music as they sustain the characterisation that Chen Shi-Zheng has superimposed over their words.

Since 2011 Opera Australia, supported by the philanthropist Dr Haruhisa Handa through the International Foundation for Arts and Culture, and Mazda Australia, has followed other opera companies who present operas outdoors in iconic locations around the world. The organisation and mechanics behind this undertaking is immense and consumes an enormous amount of time and money. But the challenge of mounting such a spectacle brings a new and empowering dimension to each opera chosen – and innovative perspectives for the directors, designers, performers and crew who take part in such an exciting artistic enterprise.

Carol Wimmer

Images: Dragana Radakovic (Turandot) and Riccardo Massi (Calàf); Benjamin Rasheed (Pang), Luke Gabbedy (Ping), John Longmuir (Pong) and Arnold Rawls (Calàf); Arnold Rawls (Calàf), David Lewis (Emperor) and Daria Masiero (Turandot), and Dragon breathes fire at Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour — Turandot. Photographer; Prudence Upton.