The world’s most popular opera, warhorse of all warhorses, do we need another Carmen? A question that might also be asked of La bohème, La traviata and so on, and the answer, of course, usually depends on the production. In this case of Anne-Louise Sarks' Opera Australia production at the Sydney Opera House, it results in a generally rewarding night at the opera. The opera is sung in French, with pared down dialogue.

Danielle de Niese (Carmen) and Abraham Bretón (Don José) © Keith Saunders
Danielle de Niese (Carmen) and Abraham Bretón (Don José)
© Keith Saunders

Over the years (150 since its ill-fated premiere) we have had a variety of Carmens, from Peter Brook’s celebrated stripped down version to all-out flamenco ruffles and flounces to one particular ‘feminist’ Carmen which was unimaginably drab. Sarks is better known as a director of straight theatre than opera, being Artistic Director of the Melbourne Theatre Company; her stated aim here is to produce “a Carmen for the 21st century”. To that end, the work is performed in modern dress and, more significantly, it may be suggested that the women are afforded more agency.

Loading image...
Abraham Bretón (Don José) and Danielle de Niese (Carmen)
© Keith Saunders

Visually we are rather at the ruffles and flounces end of the range. Marg Horwell's sets are multicoloured, and her costumes range from khaki for the soldiers to a swirling rainbow of cross-dressing crowds. The opening scene takes place before a high mesh fence adorned with lovers’ locks and ribbons. Lillas Pastia’s tavern is a dazzling array of colours and mirrors, but also featuring several Virgin Mary images – this is Catholic Spain, after all – and crosses appear in most of the settings. The final scene takes place in what appears to be Escamillo’s dressing room, adorned with huge bouquets of flowers. Along with blingy outfits, for Carmen particularly – while the girls appear initially in pink overalls, Carmen with the top of hers peeled down to reveal a black singlet top – her final outfit is a glittering black-and-white sequinned pantsuit – and this all gets to be just a bit too glitzy by the end. 

Loading image...
Andrii Kymach (Escamillo), Helen Sherman (Mercédès), Danielle de Niese and Jane Ede (Frasquita)
© Keith Saunders

By contrast, the orchestral playing under the direction of Lidiya Yankovskaya was admirably restrained. After an appropriately bouncy introduction to the prelude, she kept the forces of the Opera Australia Orchestra well balanced and supportive of the singers, bringing out the lyricism of the entr’actes and the subtle foreboding of the fate motif. The Opera Australia Chorus was as well-drilled as usual, and the Opera Australia Children’s Chorus deserves special mention for its vocal and dramatic excellence. The Opera Australia Dancers also made an appropriate contribution. In general, the blocking was effective although on a couple of occasions one or other of the singers was left somewhat marooned in place.

Loading image...
Danielle de Niese (Carmen) and Richard Anderson (Zuniga)
© Keith Saunders

Individual Carmen tropes span the range from doomed heroine to the femme fatale. Danielle de Niese’s role debut avoids both these extremes. She brought us an independent woman dedicated to her own destiny, defiant to the end. In this case, Don José’s knife in his confrontation with Escamillo becomes a gun and, in his final confrontation with Carmen, rather than stabbing her, he graphically strangles her to death, a grim example of domestic violence. The relatively low tessitura of the role would seem to suit de Niese’s voice, and she sang with power and conviction. And her dance moves, of course, were equally convincing.

As Don José we had a most impressive Mexican tenor, Abraham Bretón, singing with ringing tone and smooth legato and looking every inch the part. When Carmen presses her flower upon him, his reaction is an immediately obvious coup de foudre, and his rendition of “La fleur que tu m'avais jetée” would have melted any heart. His final desperation in the face of her rejection was palpable (if not excusable). Ukrainian bass Andrii Kymach sang with resounding tone but was rather lacking in the requisite swagger as Escamillo.

Loading image...
Jennifer Black (Micaëla) and Andrew Moran (Moralès)
© Keith Saunders

Micaëla is often portrayed as either a wide-eyed innocent abroad or a timid mouse or both, but soprano Jennifer Black eschewed these to present a determined young woman needing to connect with her childhood friend. Vocally, she also brought to bear a rather richer vocal tone than is usual in this role. The smaller parts of Carmen’s girl pals, Frasquita and Mercédès, were also well sung and acted by Jane Ede and Helen Sherman respectively.  All the minor roles were well performed vocally and dramatically, with OA regular tenor Kanen Breen typically enlivening the part of Le Remendado; Luke Gabbedy (baritone) was his partner in crime, Le Dancaïre. 

****1