Turandot

by Giacomo Puccini

filmed at a live performance on Sydney Harbour and seen on 15 September 2016

Puccini's final opera (left incomplete at his death) received a spectacular makeover on Sydney Harbour earlier this year under the auspices of Handa Opera. A floating stage on the foreshores of the harbour near Mrs Macquarie's Chair has the Sydney Opera House, the Harbour Bridge and parts of the city skyline as its backdrop, and much technical wizardry to overcome any acoustic difficulties (the singers are, of course, miked for the occasion).

Luckily the opera contains a number of great set-piece choral scenes as well as the more intimate story of Turandot, Calaf and Liu. The rather confused narrative about Calaf finding his father and Liu in the midst of the Chinese crowd eager to see yet another execution must have been hard to follow at a distance, but for us in the cinema the cameras picked out the soloists amid the swirling masses of townspeople and soldiers. But the pageantry of the execution, and the growing excitement of the crowd turning suddenly to pity for the doomed young Price of Persia, were well served, and then, to complete the first act, the music rises to a thrilling climax as Calaf, smitten by the vision of Turandot, insists on attempting to solve the ice princess's riddles. Instead of sounding a gong, as specified in the score, his challenge is made by striking a huge dragon's head which immediately roars and spews great tongues of flame.

Turandot begins her act two soliloquy on the high balcony of a pagoda, which gradually cantilevers forward and down as the riddles are announced and, to her dismay, guessed correctly by the ardent Calaf. By the time he issues his own challenge, she has come down to earth and is in deep distress, never having imagined that someone could actually claim her as a wife. Her father the Emperor reminds her that riddle games have rules and there are no exceptions for ice princesses. The whole scene is so ritualised that one hardly dare speculate on personalities - but perhaps the old man is relieved that he no longer needs to order the execution of any more lovesick youths.

The third act contains Calaf's now world-famous aria Nessun Dorma in which he sings of his approaching victory as the people around him face the vindictiveness of Turandot's edict that anyone slacking in the attempt to find out the stranger's name will be put to death. In the opera, the aria diminishes into the next piece of action, but in this production the obligatory Handa firework display interrupted proceedings to wild cheers from the audience, after which the story resumed with Liu's capture and defiance unto death under torture.

So much collides in this opera. The fairy tale idea of three riddles to be solved, the idealised love which sees the hero through all adversity, the noble sacrifice of the poor girl whose unrequited affection finally touches the heart of the implacable princess (but only after her death has conveniently removed her as a threat) all matched with powerful and beautiful music. But there is an underlying cruelty as real people are embodying these mythical tropes. The crowd is eager to see an execution, but sentimentally changes its mind as soon as the victim is seen to be young and handsome. Later they are quite vicious in arresting Liu and demanding her acquiescence, but as soon as she is dead they start praying to her spirit to be merciful to them despite their hostility. The main characters are ciphers just on the edge of being real personalities, but too much individuality would wreck the whole enterprise, and yet there are three councillors who seem to have arrived by mistake from a Gilbert and Sullivan Orient to offer worldly wise advice and complain amusingly about the difficulties of arranging funerals rather than weddings. A spectacular production seems curiously apt to overcome these potentially jarring aspects of the work.

But much depends on the singers, and luckily here they were all excellent. Dragana Radakovic exuded the icy determination of the princess Turandot with clear and ringing tones, and her struggles to maintain her composure as Calaf gradually broke down her defences were convincingly done. Riccardo Massi as Calaf displayed an easy charm with a radiant smile. Though he may seem callous to Liu, Calaf is after all a prince who, like any celebrity, inspires devotion with no real obligation to reciprocate, and Massi conveyed this awkward fact without seeming caddish. Though he struggled vocally at times to set the high notes exactly right before singing them, he gave a very good account of Nessun Dorma which must now be something of a burden in the wake of Pavarotti's famous rendition. Hyeseoung Kwon sang the part of Liu beautifully, both in pleading with Calaf to stay out of trouble in the first act (he ignores her) and in facing death to protect him in the third (he is powerless to save her).

With excellent support from the other soloists, and from the Australian Opera chorus and orchestra, conducted by Brian Castles-Onion and directed by Chen Shi-Zheng, this was a memorable production.