The world premier of Mate Ururoa – which comes from the whakatauki “Kaua e mate wheke, me mate ururoa” | “Do not die like an octopus, die like a hammerhead shark” – at the Hannah Playhouse, produced by Wellington Opera, offers a great evening and admirable experience. Arriving for the 7.30pm performance and surrounded by a 400 plus group of prestigious looking people from all corners of Wellington, and from as far as Rotorua and Hamilton where relatives, friends and admirers of the Dansey family have arrived as supporters, I feel a sense of history and awe relating to what is about to unfold. The programme starts with Notes From The Front composed by Ross Harris. Tenor Richard Greager’s bright, warm, clear, expressive voice speaks to the enraptured audience. Pianist Emma Sayers’ haunting, delicate melodies accentuate Greager’s huge voice range and they are accompanied by Mathew Ross’s violin with it’s expressive, luminous and resonant tones. A superb introduction to the main event. Mate Ururoa, written and composed by legend Dame Gillian Whitehead (Ngai Te Rangi – Tuhoe), is a captivating opera set against the harsh realities of war in Gallipoli (1915). Captain Roger Dansey, played by baritone David Tahere (Ngāpuhi), a wise and brave leader, in charge of the Native Contingent, defies his Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Colonel Alfred Herbert, played by Brent Allcock, to save the lives of his men. Because he refuses to send his men to be used as cannon fodder, Dansey is court martialled. This is a heroic position and speaks of the mind-set of Commanders working far away from the front lines. The opera blends traditional Māori music, haka, taonga puoro and storytelling with contemporary theatrical elements, creating a profound cultural experience. Through powerful vocals and evocative staging, Mate Ururoa celebrates identity, resilience and the enduring spirit of Māori traditions. It offers audiences an immersive journey into Māori history during WW1, Māori spirituality, leadership, fostering a new world view of Aotearoa, and appreciation and understanding of indigenous culture during a hard-fought ruthless war. Director Sara Brodie’s beautiful operatic depiction of the events are performed in reo Māori and English (with subtitles) and talented taonga pūoro practioner Ariana Tikao, and music ensemble Stroma, are conducted by Hamish McKeich. Stroma’s sucking instead of blowing their reed instruments adds a wind-blowing affect; they use stones to create haunting cadences: a powerful means of depicting the heartache Dansey goes through as a soldier trained to follow orders … This story has so many parallels to what is happening in 2025 that the similarities are scary and unfortunately prophetic. Mate Ururoa is a testament to what can happen when insanity is defeated with wisdom and courage. It’s not just a story for Māori, it’s a story for all New Zealanders and a broader story for the world. It poses the question: when at war – are you an octopus or a hammerhead shark? Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

In Tosca’s opening aria, Recondita Armonia, the painter Mario Cavaradossi sings of the “hidden harmonies” that underpin art. In the same spirit, this new production by Wellington Opera boasts a coherent, carefully worked-through artistic conception. The set, built around a semi-circular colonnade of stark white pillars, is suffused with tones of red and black, gesturing to the traditional colours of the army and the clergy, two forces whose brooding presences loom over the action. This set forms a simple but coherent backdrop as Cavaradossi and his lover Floria Tosca, harbouring a political fugitive, are drawn into the clutches of the villainous police chief Scarpia. [click author above to read full article] Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Lucia di Lammermoor is a tragic opera written by the masterful Italian composer Gaetano Donizetti in 1835. Set against the dramatic backdrop of 17th century Scotland, the opera chronicles the tumultuous life of Lucia Ashton (Emma Pearson), an ardent young woman torn between love and duty. Despite being in love with Edgardo (Oliver Sewell), Lucia is coerced by her brother Enrico (Phillip Rhodes) into a politically-motivated marriage to Arturo (Emmanuel Fonoti-Fuimaono), an event that sets in motion a series of catastrophic events that culminates in tragedy. Beyond its heart-rending story, Lucia di Lammermoor is renowned for its breathtaking musical score, which showcases Donizetti’s exceptional skill in crafting sublime melodies and conveying complex emotions. The role of Lucia is one of the most demanding and rewarding soprano roles in the operatic repertoire. In the title role Emma Pearson is once again the jewel in Wellington Opera’s crown. Pearson has a beautiful voice and demonstrates remarkable vocal prowess and flawless technique. However, it is her portrayal of the character that truly stands out. She embodies the role of Lucia, leaving the audience deeply moved. Her portrayal is genuinely heart-wrenching and showcases her exceptional abilities as both a singer and an actor. The most famous and demanding moment in the opera is the Mad Scene in Act III, where Lucia’s mental breakdown is conveyed through a range of vocal techniques, including stratospheric trills, florid runs and virtuosic ornamentation. Pearson’s performance here is stunning, moving effortlessly between moments of frenzied hysteria and tender vulnerability. She elicits a powerful emotional response from the audience, leaving them transfixed by her raw intensity, and moved by the tragic nature of Lucia’s plight. Mention must go to the flautist, who is so crucial in this scene: Orchestra Wellington’s Karen Batten plays wonderfully. This production is musically excellent. Orchestra Wellington is in fine form and the balance between them and the performers onstage is excellent. Conductor Tobias Ringborg brings out the best in the singers and the orchestra, keeping the pace going while giving space for the singers. In the other principal roles, Sewell and Rhodes are superb. Both have wonderful voices and bring emotional gravitas to their roles. Those in smaller roles all give solid performances. The Wellington Opera Chorus, with Michael Vinten as Chorus Master, is very good. I particularly enjoy the heartiness of the men’s chorus in Act 1. Visually, however, I’m confused. This production of Lucia is “set in the stark beauty of Aotearoa’s deep south” according to Wellington Opera’s publicity material. This doesn’t come across to me at all. The set, painted in stripy greens and blacks, might be trees or buildings. I expected to see elements that reflect the natural beauty and distinct features of Southland: hills, mountains, forests and pastures. But there is nothing there that says New Zealand to me other than the male chorus wearing oilskins. I do like the muted colour palette (browns, blues, rust, and cream) of the costumes. I also like the lighting, which is very moody and suitably grim. There are also a few other design choices that don’t quite work. Because of where I am sitting I can’t see the top of the stairs which lead away to the right. This means I can’t see who is there until they start down the steps and I miss Lucia’s bloody entrance for the Mad Scene. I wish the design team had checked the sightlines. Rostra across the centre stage made for nice levels which are used well, but on one side the step up is just a little too high, making for some awkward movements. A table which is flown in and out seemed unnecessary, and malfunctions at a very inopportune time. I worry it will fall on a singer, mid-aria. Overall, the music and the performances are so strong they outweigh the strange design choices. In Lucia di Lammermoor, audiences have the chance to see world-class singers stepping into iconic operatic roles. Wellington Opera is to be commended for their vision and dedication to this art form, as well as creating professional performance opportunities for up-and-coming young singers and Wellington creatives. Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

When you stage the world’s most performed opera, you need to bring something special to the production. Wellington Opera achieved that this week, not by exploring fancy production innovations, modern dress or contemporary political references. They drew in the opening night audience, many very familiar with the story of the tragic courtesan Violetta, by complex character development as subtle as I’ve seen in La Traviata. It was an enormously moving and poignant production because we participated so directly in the inner anguish of two of the main roles. Verdi’s La Traviata stands or falls on the performance of the soprano lead, playing the huge role of Violetta. Emma Pearson sang with brilliance and beauty of tone, using all the lovely timbres of her voice to reveal the many facets of Violetta’s conflicted personality. The coquettish flirt on the surface, the genuine and passionate lover of Alfredo and the lonely and fragile invalid were all marvellously expressed by this consummate opera singer. She owned the stage throughout, her superb singing of the famous ‘Sempre libera’ (Always free) in Act 1 just one of many delights. [Click on the Author above to read full article] Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

I know we shouldn’t be surprised by how fresh so much of Mozart’s operatic work always seems – but, in expert hands, somehow the trick always astonishes. This is true particularly of The Marriage of Figaro and Don Giovanni. These operas explore the intersection of patriarchy, power and the sex-gender system with an inimitable sense of humour and optimism that does nothing to obscure the force of their critique. That critique is famous for its efficacy in the case of The Marriage of Figaro in the lead up to the French Revolution. But in this smart, contemporary and carefully judged production, Don Giovanni feels equally salient. Sara Brodie has already directed this opera for Opera New Zealand (in 2016, I think) and that experience seems to contribute to a very assured display in this production. With significantly fewer material resources, Brodie and her designers deftly employ a post-modern approach that is perfectly suited both to today’s gender sensibilities and the need for a deconstructed set and modest production values. No-one can doubt the effectiveness of many of the tropes deployed by Brodie: the overwhelming List of Names; the rotating set that reveals a surprisingly fragile substructure behind the façade; the use of costumes for their signifying rather than historical accuracy; the deliberately absurd ploys of concealment and disclosure; the dramatic space allowed for the ‘grain of the voice’ to be heard; the huge, climactic ‘hollow man’. All of these serve to bring the hetero-normative nightmare of the drama and the monstrous embodiment of the Don vividly to life for a contemporary audience. In terms of the orchestra and the cast we are also privileged to have uniformly fine performances. Publicity for the show makes much of the fact that by an accident of the COVID pandemic we have a collection of talent that would normally be much harder to assemble from the New Zealand opera diaspora. They are all in superb voice, with apparently faultless technique. This allows the director to provide space for their individuality. That, in turn, allows the audience to tune into the emotional content of each aria and register its subtleties, when we are more accustomed to the much more accessible demonstrations romantic opera. The result is aria after aria of gorgeous singing and unhindered enjoyment. Each of the cast brings a unique superpower, contrasting wonderfully among the three sopranos: the purity and beauty of tone of Natasha Wilson’s Zerlina; the commanding strength and accuracy of Amelia Berry’s Donna Anna; the power and dramatic colouring Amanda Atlas brings to Donna Elvira. Then there is the rich, seductive baritone of Christian Thurston as Don Giovanni; the faultless bass and marvellously sustained comic invention and timing of James Ioelu as Leporello. Plus Oliver Sewell’s acting and passionate tenor voice as Don Ottavio; Joel Amosa’s marvellous physical and vocal presence as Masetto – and Paul Whelan bringing the appropriate authority and stentorian tones as Il Commendatore Don Pedro. The chorus are exemplary, with many future cast members in evidence, while Orchestra Wellington performed with its usual professionalism and admirable stamina. This is an auspicious debut indeed for Opera Wellington and we are so fortunate to have a company emerge with such significant support from both public and private sources. Tribute must be paid also to Eternity Opera for pioneering the concept of a local opera company performing the essentials to an international standard (along with a love of Mozart). We are privileged in every way to have the opportunity to enjoy opera like this being produced in Wellington. Don’t miss a wonderfully enjoyable and provoking night out. Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Last night, I had the privilege of experiencing Mate Ururoa, a groundbreaking reo rua (bilingual) opera presented by Wellington Opera (music and text by Dame Gillian Whitehead; Ngāi Te Rangi, Tūhoe) directed by Sara Brodie. As someone attending a bilingual opera for the first time, I’m not sure what to expect — but what unfolds is a powerful, poetic and deeply moving performance that leaves a lasting impression. The most striking aspect of Mate Ururoa is the unapologetic and masterful use of te reo Māori. As a first language speaker of Te Reo I appreciate how the opera leans into the beauty and complexity of the reo. The script is rich with poetic expression, elevating the narrative and grounding it in the metaphysical depths of Te Ao Māori. It is refreshing to see te reo given space to breathe and command the stage on its own terms — musical, rhythmic and full of wairua. Complementing the reo are the haunting sounds of taonga pūoro (Ariana Tikao) which bring a unique emotional resonance to the performance. The inclusion of these traditional instruments isn’t simply decorative — it is integral to the sonic world of the opera, bridging the orchestral with the spiritual. The orchestra itself, Stroma, is exceptional, weaving together Western classical structure with Māori tonalities in a way that feels seamless and respectful. The lead opera singers – Captain Roger Dansey (David Tahere) and Commanding Officer (Brent Allcock) – are nothing short of extraordinary. Their vocal command,

The large audience at Wellington’s St James Theatre for the opening night of Wellington Opera’s Tosca held its breath, as soprano Madeleine Pierard sang the famous aria Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore (‘I lived for art, I lived for love’), creating a beautiful, still centre in one of the most fast-moving and popular operas in the world. Puccini’s Tosca is a brilliant example of the operatic art form and of its composer’s art. The music is glorious and emotionally masterly, with some of the most famous arias ever written. It has big themes of love, lust, political and emotional power and evil desire. And it has pace! The tragic story, originally set in Rome in 1800 during the Napoleonic wars, takes place within a breathless 24-hour period. Wellington Opera’s current production marvellously captures the opera’s momentum, enthralling the audience with edge-of-the-seat tension. [click author above to read full article] Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

La Traviata is the second production for Wellington Opera, who launched with a bang last year with Don Giovanni in the Opera House. This time, the venue is the newly strengthened (and polished to within an inch of its life) St James Theatre, and the production is much more lavish to match. The grand scale set with a giant revolving mirror, designed by Mark McEntyre, is painted with watercolour flowers, a nod to the opera’s origins, the 1848 novel (and later play) La dame aux camelias by Alexandre Dumas fils. We are in 1950s Paris and our doomed heroine, Violetta (Emma Pearson) wears couture reminiscent of Dior New Look, as her doctor (Wade Kernot) administers an adrenaline shot into a gartered leg. Director Sara Brodie immediately sets the scene for a very human and character-driven production. As she should be, Emma Pearson is the heart and soul of La Traviata. While her vocal performance is astounding in its beauty and flawless technique, her characterisation is warm, thoughtful, sympathetic, raw and ultimately heart-breaking. Every moment of her performance is acted with integrity and real humanity. Due to a dramatic turn of events, understudy Emmanuel Fonoti Fuimaono has been called on to sing Alfredo in place of Oliver Sewell from the side stage, while the assistant director (Nino Raphael) walks the role in a mask. My spies tell me that Sewell sang the dress rehearsal wonderfully, so the disappointment at not seeing him perform is huge. However, Fuimaono more than delivers. This is a young tenor right at the beginning of his career, displaying his marvellous gift with a rare effortlessness and astonishing beauty. It is utterly thrilling to hear him and there is no question that he is destined for a long and successful career. Phillip Rhodes has enjoyed international success and brings all his experience, gravitas and vocal finesse to the role of Giorgio Germent, although he is perhaps too young to be playing a father in his 50s, if not 60s. The Wellington Opera Chorus, directed by Michael Vinten, are well rehearsed and solid; many are fresh out of university or finishing their degrees and there are a few more experienced singers dotted among them. They are obviously revelling in the opportunity to perform on the St James stage. The Wellington Orchestra, conducted by Hamish McKeich were sounding absolutely fantastic – musically this production was top-notch. Tony di Goldi’s costuming is attractive and complements the pastels of the very French-chic walls. Act 2 has the lovers Violetta and Alfredo looking timeless in stylish neutrals, and Giorgio Germont is the ultimate disrupter, entering the scene in a jarring black suit with Mad Men slicked hair. In the final scene Violetta’s angelic white pyjamas emphasise the sacrifice this so-called “fallen woman” has made for love. Paul O’Brien’s lighting design is beautiful and poignant, creating feelings of intimacy, frivolity, joy and bleak suffering. His use of the reflection created by the huge revolving mirror made for some particularly satisfying moments. Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Did you know the greatest and most influential composer in the history of Western music also had a sense of humour and a potty mouth to match? I didn’t either, but I do now. Cue Don Giovanni, Mozart’s outrageous comedy that tells a tale based on notorious scoundrel, lothario extraordinaire, Don Juan. Don Juan was written in 1787 by Spanish writer Tirso de Molina, a Roman Catholic Monk. These days the ladies would call Don Giovanni (Christian Thurston) a jerk or perhaps a sexual predator, rather than an irresistible, irresponsible yet lovable cad, but hey! This is how things rolled in the 17th century. [More] _______________________________ For more production details, click on the title above. Go to Home page to see other Reviews, recent Comments and Forum postings (under Chat Back), and News. Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

It is occasionally said that simplicity is the hallmark of genius. Puccini was no doubt a genius. His Tosca makes no special claim to grandness or complexity. It simply deals in an unflinching and intimate way with fundamental human issues using only a small performing company to carry its argument. It brings a stark focus to bear on the brutal interaction between three central characters: Tosca the doomed heroine, her condemned rebel beau Cavaradossi and the routinely unethical police chief Baron Scarpia. All will be visited by the Grim Reaper in due course – all to the strains of darkly beautiful operatic melody. Photo credit: Stephen A’Court. Set in Rome in 1800 (exactly a century before Tosca’s first performance date) the opera ushers its audience into a fraught historical world in which the invading Napoleon Bonaparte is exercising the same dread as was Fuehrer Adolph Hitler in 1940. Rome swells with anti-republican adventurers from many countries. Everywhere there are military bloodlettings fuelled by escalating bad faith. Trust has left the area. Executions by firing squads are mounting as Scarpia and his henchmen live with the emerging realities in a city historically well versed in such things. Floria Tosca (a role previously written in France for the great actress Sarah Bernhardt) finds herself in that horrendous bind most famously dramatized in Shakespeare’s virginal nun Isabella from Measure for Measure. The unscrupulous Scarpia, playing Angelo redux, demands physical gratification in exchange for Cavaradossi’s life; he now being on Scarpia’s death row for supposed crimes against the old order. Sothe opera Tosca does not, by having music, shrink from torture, attempted rape, murder, execution and related dark acts. The excellently written theatre programme specifically warns of this. The Italians called it verismo. Puccini might fairly claim to have put an end to the lingering notion of opera as an exercise in outrageous make believe (if not absurdity) in which people often manage to sing while performing incongruous actions. There are three Acts. Photo credit: Stephen A’Court. Act 1 is set in a Roman church. It sets up the all-important central plot while underlining the sacrilegious and duplicitous way in which the police chief operates. An escaped and in-hiding revolutionary becomes dramatic bait that brings famous painter Cavaradossi (a revolutionary sympathiser), the lover of opera singer Floria Tosca, into the orbit of Scarpia. The latter has evil designs on said lady. Scarpia skilfully manipulates the situation with untrue allegations of unfaithfulness against Cavaradossi. Enraged, Tosca unwittingly leads the police to him and he is arrested. Scarpia (Teddy Tahu Rhodes) is no pantomime villain. He comes across here as a repellent but consequential synthesis of, say, Vladamir Putin and Harvey Weinstein. His baritone role, however, is the glue that holds the drama structure together. Against the implacable and ever-present Scarpia, our star opera singer (Madeleine Pierard) and the painter/lover (Jared Holt) are just hurling themselves at a stone wall. Odious though he is, Scarpia unquestionably has gravitas and presence. He even manages to formulate a theological argument for his treatment of women; they being largely tasty dishes to be devoured as a perk of the job. He rashly dares to suggest that he is fulfilling God’s plan that humankind enjoy all of His fruits of creation. His bleak and mendacious methods survive his unplanned death. Quite a piece of work is Scarpia. Act 2 is set in Scarpia’s apartments. Cavaradossi is being tortured in the next room while the police chief savours haute cuisine. Tosca is beside herself in hearing this happen. At her wits’ end she betrays the escaped man we saw at the start of Act 1. News then arrives that Bonaparte has won the battle of Marengo, the people of Rome having previously been told that he had been defeated. That gives Cavaradossi new revolutionary heart but he is nevertheless taken away to be executed. Turning to Tosca, Scarpia cunningly promises a mock execution if she will sleep with him; despite her seemingly agreeing to that strategy Tosca suddenly stabs Scarpia to death. Photo credit: Stephen A’Court. Middle passages of all artistic works present challenges as the piece moves from introductions through plot business to climax. This one surmounts all of them. Again the baritone voice of Scarpia in his pomp gets through some tuneful melodies as he sits at the dinner table. He debases his enemies almost as if that is what a host does, alternating between torture-through-the-wall and ravishing the lady guest. Puccini has the unique ability to compose airs of overwhelming sweetness that can pivot into dread in order to highlight the more distasteful action; action that can destroy people and their very worlds. His overbearing conduct against Tosca would be literally unbearable without the music which eases us to the point where Tosca has made her plan for escaping with Cavaradossi and while Scarpia his completed all the (inevitably worthless) paperwork. She then sits on the dinner table as if she were the dessert and delivers one of the ineffably great operatic arias: ‘Vissi d’arte’. It is a touching ‘confession’ of her human kindness (not her failings) and is sung with exemplary control and to profound effect. It entails questioning the justice of God in contemplation of the avenging act Tosca knows she must perform. It comes from way out of left field and halts Scarpia’s urbane evil gloating in its tracks. Then Tosca brashly despatches Scarpia with the dinner knife leaving him dying and, almost tenderly, begging for her aid. The circle of drama and supporting music is complete and leaves the audience stunned. Few human emotions have been left unplumbed and the game has massively changed. Act 3: Cavaradossi is seen preparing for death at the Castel Sant’Angelo. Tosca arrives and assures him the firing squad will not be a real one. Alas, it is in fact real and Tosca has only a moment to grieve before police arrive. They have found Scarpia’s corpse. Tosca flings herself to her death from the parapet of the fortress. The curtain goes down on a scene of wretched pointless death and hopelessness. Puccini is maybe throwing down the gauntlet to his audience. You need to build a better world than this. One where virtue triumphs and not one where even after death Scarpia’s evil plan continues to pervade and drag our world down into the pit. Part of Cavaradossi’s preparation for the death that Tosca believes he can cheat is a paean of praise for her and her centrality in his life. In song, he recalls the excitement yet reverence of their first coming together. It is an abnegation of the animalistic methods of Scarpia and it comes wrapped in the second aria for which Tosca hods a supreme and honoured place. ‘E lucevan le stelle’ takes us above the smoke and poison of the banal world and lets us breath the clear air beneath the stars. Jared Holt delivers it with lyrical intensity and elevates the otherwise squalid scene towards the heavens. The audience is enthralled that such an ugly moment is somehow hallowed with human dignity. Wellington has received many a callous blow of late. The central city morale has slumped a little. But at the first night of Tosca in the redecorated St James (with some help from Puccini and his less celebrated collaborators) lifts all boats and hearts. The opera itself confronts the crushing of the human spirit and earthly hopes while trusting that people can, and will, get it all back someday. This production is a testament to that spirit. It is a breathtaking team effort with around 30 crucial people in ‘the back office’ (I assume the government might suggest getting rid of them). Opera is, in a way, musical/dramatic rocket science. So many disciplines are brought to bear under huge pressures to ensure that the onstage momentum never falters. Images meld into music while he timing within each scene must be impeccable and the characters must remain true as living people and not just as concert singers fulfilling a role. The audience for Tosca has enjoyed that ultra professional blend. Photo credit: Stephen A’Court. Director Jacqueline Coats, with her assistant Waitahi Aniwaniwa McGee, has triumphed in bringing together top set design (Michael Zaragoza), costume design (Rebecca Bethan Jones) and lighting design (Rowan Mc Shane) – to whom can be added a fight director (Simon Manns), intimacy coordinator (Lori Leigh) and chorus Director (Michael VInten). Clearly the opera has been treated with the respect it manifestly deserves. All the attention to detail results in a seamlessness where the pace never flags. The set design has been soundly conceived. It carries the beauty of the revamped auditorium onto the stage and gives it depth. A Christian cross-dominates the Church then in Act 2 becomes apartments and then, in Act 3, castle battlements. The sacred becomes the profane with a touch of opulent fascism and what was once a painter’s platform becomes crude military vantage point against which our trusting painter is shot and from where Tosca intentionally falls. In the lighting area, the chilling moment of Cavaradossi’s death stands out as a split-second coup de theatre. Wellington Opera presents Tosca at the St James Theatre with Orchestra Wellington on 11, 13 & 15 September 2024. Photo credit: Stephen A’Court. In the costumes department the bright insertion of gaily clothed children at key moments balances out the darker themes and keeps us all in touch with the few persistent strands of hope. Decking the police out in ‘smart’ quasi military uniforms styled somewhere between Mussolini and Goering raises a distant link to the world of Gestapo. The massive ensemble work at the end of Act 1 which gives the church back to its God for mimed rituals is a triumph of well-used cast numbers and ecclesiastical costume visuals. The huge applause as the orchestra hits a powerful crescendo reflects that. The orchestra under Brian Castles-Onion sounds nimbly operatic, constantly inculcating changing moods, from ecstasy to outright despair, as well as melodiously accompanying the singers. It nicely catches Puccini in his famous playful moments too. (Some of the more bouncy snatches of themes might have fallen from from the soundtrack of Tom & Jerry.) Overall, it is an inspiring night in a much-loved and well-filled theatre. All around people are declaring, “ I saw this in Verona/New York/ Milan/Napier. I’ve always wanted to see it again.” Tosca is a fixture for countless reasons. Nobody should ever pass up a chance to see it. This could be yours so do take it. Operas don’t come much better or coherent than this. Wellington Opera are to be complimented for a flawless and concentrated effort. Tosca is just what the city needs right now. Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

“That sound sweeps down on my heart.” With this line from Donizetti’s opera Lucia di Lammermoor, the romantic lead Edgardo encapsulates the shattering news the third act brings him – but also the impact this powerful performance by Wellington Opera had on its opening-night audience. Lucia di Lammermoor is superficially a tale of star-crossed lovers, as the eponymous Lucia Ashton (Lucy, in Sir Walter’s Scott original novel of Highlands rivalry) longs for Edgardo Ravenswood, her family’s sworn enemy. More fundamentally, it is a study of the unbearable strain placed on women whose destiny is determined by the men around them. [Click on the author above to read full article] Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

In Verdi’s La Traviata, the central character, courtesan Violetta Valéry, is battling a bout of tuberculosis – but on Saturday night another illness made its presence felt. Covid forced the absence of Oliver Sewell, set to play Violetta’s lover, Alfredo Germont. This set off a chain reaction in which his part was sung from one of the lower boxes by young tenor Emmanuel Fonoti-Fuimaono, but acted on stage by a masked-up assistant director Nino Raphael. The role vacated by Fonoti-Fuimaono, Gastone, was, on a similar basis, sung by Xavier Krause and acted by director Sara Brodie. [Click on the author above to read the full article] Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

An expectant buzz from the large opening night audience quietened as house lights dimmed and the familiar Overture for Mozart’s opera Don Giovanni began. Unusually the curtain was already raised on a minimal set – the facade of house, a single chandelier behind and a ladder. Do we recognise the nobleman climbing that ladder to an upstairs bedroom while his servant keeps nervous watch? And who is that beautiful young woman in the window above? Then, unexpectedly, the curtain fell while the overture continued. A new opera company had begun its premiere production with a teasing glimpse of three principal characters and a hint of a evening that might contain some surprises. The biggest surprise may be that Matthew Ross, Artistic Director of Wellington Opera, and his team of creative artists, funders and supporters have chosen to launch a new opera company into a world where curtains began coming down on the performing arts worldwide over a year ago. But perhaps the times have facilitated this audacious decision? New Zealand audiences seem eager for live events, many talented young singers came here as overseas opportunities dried up and Wellingtonians’ hunger for opera is not currently fully satisfied by our national company. Don Giovanni is also a considered choice. Mozart’s operas are beloved in the popular repertoire and the #metoo movement offers contemporary relevance to this tale of a heartless libertine pursuing sexual gratification without care for those he hurts. [Click on the author's name above to read the full article] Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer