Giulio Cesare, Handel’s most popular opera, is also quite long. As with last year’s Rinaldo, Pinchgut's production is much abbreviated, but much more violently. If some 13 arias have to be ditched, some of them integral to the narrative, surely it would be better to do a shorter opera to start with? It isn’t as if Sydney audiences weren’t able to cope with a longer, and very popular, version put on by the Australian Opera/Opera Australia (in three different cities) through the 1990s and early 2000s.
In previous productions, as with the aforesaid Rinaldo, over its 22 year history Pinchgut, in its usual venue the City Recital Hall, has generally been able to overcome the lack of a proscenium stage and associated wings, machinery etc with clever settings. This time, not so much; a large pyramid dominates the stage which is undeniably evocative but greatly curtails the space available for dramatic action. The orchestra, usually located on the floor in front of the stage, is here seated within the lower part of the pyramid barely visible behind a scrim. Very few props are involved (or possible): a table here, a couple of chairs there, a few dead bodies. Celebrated director Neil Armfield does not really solve the challenge of moving the cast around and they often seem marooned in narrow spaces.
Costumes have never been one of Pinchgut’s stronger suits. Here the Roman men wore modern day military uniforms or fatigues – but why was Cesare wearing sergeant’s stripes? This seems rather at odds with someone intent “Per conquistar, non che l'Egitto, un mondo”. The Egyptians are rather better served with djellabas, while the women on both sides wear nondescript modern clothing. Sesto suffers under a rather unfortunate wig, as does Cleopatra in her Lidia guise, looking like someone from an old episode of Neighbours (set and costumes by Dale Ferguson). She is much more soignée in her regal final appearance.
The Orchestra of the Antipodes was excellent as usual under Erin Helyard, from the briskly played overture through to the lively finale with its four horns. The usual highlights were well deployed. Carla Blackwood was the virtually faultless horn player accompanying “Va tacito” and Matthew Greco (also the concertmaster) provided the entertaining violin solo to “Se in fiorito”. The banda accompanying “V’adoro pupille” were appropriately stationed with ‘Lidia’ up in the left front gallery, and produced a luscious sound, including harpist Hannah Lane.
In the title role, countertenor Tim Mead was a sturdy commander and an ardent lover, falling to the floor in rapture during “V’adoro pupille”. He sang with unforced ringing tone, although did not quite cleanly articulate all the coloratura passages. It is a pity he was deprived of his final aria, “Quel torrente”, which seals his resurrection from a watery fate and determination to sweep all before him. As with everyone else, only short cadenzas seemed to be allowed.
Cleopatra was sung by fast-rising soprano Samantha Clarke, who is a very good singer indeed, but not perhaps an ideal Handelian. While singing with beautiful tone and accuracy, her voice has rather more vibrato than one wants here. Still, she played the role with charm and vivacity. Someone wondered what had happened to “that bath aria”, ie “Venere bella”, one of the notable set pieces in the old AO/OA production.
Hugh Cutting sang Tolomeo, playing the spoiled, cruel brat to the hilt. At first he seemed a little underpowered vocally, but developed more cut-through as the night went on, and produced good unforced tone, with some excellent snarls and drops into chest for dramatic effect.
Cornelia was sung by Stephanie Dillon, who initially seemed rather youthful to be portraying the put-upon Roman matron. She sang very well with warm and even mezzo tone, with an impressive opening messa di voce on “Nel tuo seno”, and, while deprived of “Cessa omai”, impressed with Cornelia’s final aria “Non ha più”, a tricky one to bring off convincingly. Her son Sesto was sung by another fine mezzo, Helen Sherman who, despite the wig, managed to convince as a young firebrand bent on justice even though not getting to sing “La giustizia”. Their duet concluding Act 1, “Son nata a lagrimar” was as beautiful and moving as it should be.