Carmen

CARMEN caused PETE’S EYEBROWS to form a CATERPILLAR ARCH!

The Venue

I prefer reviewing theatre productions over theatres, but what attracted us to this production was the venue. Let’s face it, I haven’t seen an opera for a couple of decades.

But it was Carmen and it was Cookatoo Island so we were there!

In case you don’t know, Cookatoo Island is two islands to the west of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. We got there by accessing charter ferry tickets through Opera Australia from King Street Wharf 3. For what it’s worth, the ferry system worked efficiently and the extra complication of having to get to and from an island, just to enjoy a night at the opera, didn’t cause us too much trauma.

The location gave set and costume designer, Mark Thompson, the inspiration to update the village square in Seville to a kind of dystopian, post-apocalypse, industrial wasteland, replete with crushed cars, shipping containers, oil barrels and Road-Warrior-style-bikie gangs. Indeed, when we walked into the open-air venue, a curmudgeon next to us bleated to one of the ushers that “they should store those barrels somewhere else“. The usher assured him that it was all part of the show!

The Opening

For the first time in our long history of theatre-going, we were warned – with the strictness of a school-mistress – to remain in our seats for the first ten minutes of the show. In truth, I had not really contemplated doing anything else. But now you’re telling me what not to do, maybe I’ll dance in the aisles or storm the stage?

Just as well, it turns out, that I followed the stern instructions!

Carmen’s breathtaking overture was accompanied by the roar of motor bikes racing down the centre aisle and jousting across the space between the stage and the audience. Thank goodness for those oil barrels, I say! It was thrilling! And tribute to the creative team’s artistic design.

The Moment

After an opening reminiscent of the Jets and the Sharks, a heroine who resembled Amy Winehouse and much entertaining revelry, came the moment.

The Toreador’s Song was heralded by more motor bike jousting, a mosh pit of exalting groupies, and the entrance of the bullfighter, Escamillo, who embodied a rock god in his tight black leather pants and red leather jacket. This was so exhilarating that we might have been at an opera. Oh wait…

More excitement swept through the crowd as a burst of fireworks emblazoned the sky behind the stage to accompany the bullfighter’s final notes. Meanwhile, I imagined a retired barrister, sitting at home across the water in Birchgrove, looking at this watch and muttering, “oh, is that time already…time for Cognac…”.

Concluding Remarks

Doubtless, Opera Australia was envisaging balmy nights, after scorching early-summer days, when it planned its production of Carmen on an island in the middle of Sydney Harbour, leading up to Christmas. It’s not their fault that most of the audience was rugged up and checking their smart phones to update their colleagues on the prevailing “feels like” temperature. But, I must say, the strong breeze which swept the stage throughout the performance added to the spectacle, with scarves, flags, costumes and detritus standing proudly in the wind. I hoped the performers, in their exposed position, were warm.

But when the audience leaves an opera humming the tunes and chattering in high-energy animation, that has to be a good thing.

It’s been over two decades since I’ve been to an opera, but I’m glad I went to this one!

(Originally posted on 16 December 2022.)