Critics assess the Aussie Anastasia, TISM at the Opera House and Donald Runnicles conducting Mahler’s Sixth Symphony
Updated ,first published
MUSIC
Donald Runnicles conducts Mahler’s Sixth Symphony
Sydney Opera House, 9 April
Reviewed by PETER McCALLUM
★★★★½
Greeting the audience before the concert, violinist Sophie Cole drew attention to the appropriateness of Mahler’s music. Symphony No.6 because it gives us the experience of being “swept away by forces beyond our control” in our own time.
This impression emerged most strongly in the performance of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra conducted by Donald Runnicles, supported by musicians from the Australian National Academy of Music (ANAM) during the work’s 30-minute wrestling finale.
This movement strives for an optimistic outcome three times before reaching the enlightened but tragic realization that in this case this is not possible, that the individual will hit rock bottom.
Mahler brutally underlined this point by literally ending the first two attempts to boost optimism with a hammer blow; he stated that it should be “a short, powerful but dull, resonant blow of non-metallic character (like an ax blow).”
There were initially three hammer blows, but Mahler, acting with the stinginess of genius, cut off the last one. This allowed Runnicles to maintain the tension until the end and release the final A minor chord as a motif, which fluctuates from major to minor with great force throughout the 90-minute duration.
In the first movement, Runnicles maintained the momentum with unyielding persistence, keeping his finger on the pulse during the transition from the opening march to the lyrical second idea but exalting it and waiting for the closure of that idea before allowing the impetus to relax.
It became even more dreamy in the quiet pastoral section of the development, but the unrelenting quality of the music elsewhere left an ambiguous sense of whether the energy was internal or imposed from outside, which was crucial to the sense of alienation Mahler created. This movement had unstoppable progress, even at the expense of roughness in some details.
The second movement, with shrill mocking woodwinds and imitations dangling from the horns, was a tongue-in-cheek take on this impulse. Runnicles made the third movement the emotional center of the work. On a bed of muted lower strings, the violins played the opening melody with delicate calm, allowing horn player Samuel Jacobs to embellish it with velvety smoothness in his later appearance.
Like sunlight through the fog, the woodwind players offset the idyllic moment of stillness before the final swell climax, and the orchestra performed one lush harmonic modulation after another as the music finally faded into deep serenity.
After the intriguing opening melody of the finale, the introduction groped through the darkness like an awakening snake. Under the direction of concertmaster Andrew Haveron, Runnicles conducted the fast sections with gripping intensity, with thrilling unanimity.
As far as uncontrolled powers go, there were plenty of flashes of horror in these, but they turned out to be awe-inspiring in the inevitable closing bars.
THEATRE
Anastasia
Sydney Lyric Theatre, 10 April
until July 17
Reviewed by HARRIET CUNINGHAM
★★★★½
From rags to riches, revolution, lost identity and escape from danger… the story of Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia has it all. Tsar II. Nicholas’s youngest daughter, Anastasia, was said to be the only member of the Romanov royal family to survive execution by Bolshevik forces in July 1918. The rumors turned into a huge mystery, with at least 10 women claiming to be the last of the Romanovs.
Anastasia takes the legend and puts a Broadway spin on it with a great book by author Terrence McNally; A reliable series showcase of the composer. Ragtime, Stephen Flaherty, plus a starry cast, truckloads of costumes, dazzling sets and vocal fireworks. Resistance is useless.
The Australian incarnation of this international phenomenon is hard to fault. Georgina Hopson is the ideal Anya with her incredibly dynamic and expressive voice and successful stage presence. Robert Tripolino (lovable rogue Dimitry) and Joshua Robson (duty soldier Gleb) competed dramatically and vocally for the audience’s heart, with Robson nearly winning it on set. Still.
Rodney Dobson works magic as Vlad, aka Count Popov, a character who can clearly overshadow the main event at any given moment. This is especially true when paired with Countess Lily Rhonda Burchmore, who is cheerfully pumped to the max. Finally, there is Nancye Hayes as the Dowager Empress, the elegant key man around whom the story develops.
The creative team brings the historical arc of Anya and Anastasia’s story to the stage with great mastery, using everything in the show business toolbox to transport us thirty years and hundreds of kilometers away. Most notable are the projections that appear behind the static, architectural wall of windows, doors, and arches (video design by Aaron Rhyne, set design by Alexander Dodge).
Together with the lighting (Donald Holder) and costumes (Linda Cho), they create instant location changes, from the streets of St Petersburg to the Bolshevik command to Paris, without overdoing the action. This is except for the escape scene, where a revolving skeleton train car is set in motion by rolling landscapes in the background. This is one of the most successful uses of projections in storytelling I’ve seen.
Another element that stands out is the choreography (Peggy Hickey), which captures the free-spirited sense of liberation in post-war Paris, especially in the second act. A high-energy troupe shows that they are masters of classical ballet, ballroom dancing and jazz.
Anastasia is a musical in two distinct parts, and that’s part of its appeal: We move from Disney-like nostalgia of ancient Russia to fiery revolution to ’20s Paris filled with jazz and flapper dancing. His Frozen, Les Mis And ragtimeall in one. No wonder it’s hard to resist.
MUSIC
THESM
Sydney Opera House, 10 April
Reviewed by MICHAEL RUFFLES
★★★½
The trolls are running around the Opera House, not under the bridge.
Melbourne electro-pop-rock anarcho-satirists TISM (This Is Serious, Mother) continue a four-or-40-year comeback (if you choose to believe they split in 1983) with a show that is somehow both improbable and inevitable.
Performing all of his groundbreaking albums, Machiavelli and the Four SeasonsThirty years after breaking into the top 10, In the Concert Hall manages to mine the same vein of nostalgia as other artists pulling the same trick (see Lee, Ben; League, Human; and Day, Green), while also pulling the punch.
At 19.59, as classical music plays and road officials clear the stage, the thought arises that this may all be an elaborate prank. This is only strengthened when a choir marches to sing Philip Glass’s Assis the album’s secret track that distorts self-importance.
Hats are taken off for a joke, then giant crescent moon hats are donned as the seven unnamed members show up and begin taking out the drug-fueled celebs on their highest-charting and arguably most controversial single. (She Will Never Be One) Ol’ Man River. They also start charging into the crowd, tearing costumes, and (eventually) breaking a seat.
The song’s lead singer, Ron Hitler-Barassi, asks: “What are we doing here?” Giant puppet versions of the band members appear.
Are you having a great time? Definitely. Nonsense? Definitely. Are they actually beautiful melodies? Mostly. Machiavelli It has its moments of genius, but it also has its lapses.
It helps them shuffle the order, move past the more forgettable and outdated (Jung Talent Time now it’s fun for different reasons). They are at their best when they are bombastic: How Do I Love You? And Greg! Stop sign come forward.
Other highlights come from elsewhere: ironically intriguing I’m interested in apathyYob or wanker Rorschach test Neareya? and a disturbing but danceable poem about Hitler having a bad day.
Along with the likes of TISM, The KLF and Chumbawamba, he turned trolling into an art form before the internet became what it is today. They’re still running: The non-repeat event returns to the Concert Hall on Sunday, with seats secured. Tisk, tick, tick: it’s a satire, kids.
