A night with the Melbourne opera
Costumes, designed by Karine Larché, are hung up backstage.
Audiences experience a 4.5-hour production of Wagner's epic comedy, with multiple intervals across the afternoon and evening and themed catering.
Internationally acclaimed Wagner mastreo, Anthony Negus, mid performance.
A member of the chorus getting ready backstage.
Melbourne Opera describes Die Meistersinger as 'central to understanding Wagner's ideas on the role of music in society'.
The performance space was specifically designed to showcase the intricate paint and plasterwork of the recently restored Royal Exhibition Building.
James Egglestone, performing as the young knight Walther von Stolzing, alongside Lee Abrahmsen as Eva Pogner.
Lee Abrahmsen, as Eva, looks on from the wings.
Conductor Anthony Negus takes in the room during a quiet moment before the show.
Negus conducting the orchestra, with past collaborator Suzanne Chaundy as director.
The orchestra warms up and tunes before the performance. Melbourne Opera has regularly presented works by Richard Wagner including Ring Cycle in Bendigo (2023), Rheingold (2021) and Die Valkyrie (2022).
The opera is set in 16th-century Nuremberg and revolves around a guild of amateur poets and musicians called the Mastersingers.
James Egglestone brings Von Stolzing to life. Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg is unique among Wagner's work as the only comedy in his mature operas.
Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg is the only mature Wagner opera based on an entirely original story, and in which no supernatural or magical powers or events feature. The set for the Melbourne spectacle was designed by Andrew Bailey.
The chorus waiting backstage for the final performance.
The chorus entering the stage for the final performance. Four performances of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg take place at the Royal Exhibition Building between 16 and 22 February.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Independent
9 hours ago
- The Independent
Ryan Speedo Green triumphs in first outing as Wagner's god in 'Die Walküre'
The Jemez and Sangre de Cristo mountains had vanished into the night sky by the time Ryan Speedo Green sang his first words as Wotan in Wagner's 'Die Walküre.' Still, their invisible presence around the Santa Fe Opera House was a fitting backdrop, since Wagner set the scene on a high mountain ridge. And indeed the part of Wotan, one of the most demanding roles in opera for a dramatic bass-baritone, seems to inspire mountain imagery. To conductor James Gaffigan, its length and difficulty make it 'the Mount Everest for this particular voice type.' To Green, 'It feels almost as if this is the pinnacle, the height of roles that you could portray.' Now, at age 39, Green stands proudly at that pinnacle, if sometimes still shaking his head in disbelief at how far he's come. Having survived a troubled childhood that included time in juvenile detention, he found a voice teacher who believed in his gift, honed his skills through years of study and an apprenticeship at the Vienna State Opera, then sang a series of increasingly prominent roles at the Metropolitan Opera to emerge as a full-fledged star. 'I never thought it would happen, that my career would blow up the way it has,' Green said in an interview between performances, which continue through Aug. 21. A role that has everything The Santa Fe performances are his first time singing 'Die Walküre,' the second of the four operas in Wagner's tetralogy and the one with the biggest and most daunting role for the head of the gods. It calls for a wide dramatic range — from exuberance, to despair, from fury to compassion. And the vocal challenges include a 24-minute monologue in which Wotan recapitulates the previous events in his life, and a scene at the end of a long evening for which he has to keep his voice fresh as he bids a tender farewell to his disobedient daughter Brünnhilde, sung here by soprano Tamara Wilson. 'My Wotan is still in its infancy and I can see it grow with every performance as I get it more into my blood and into my feet,' Green said. 'I'm lucky that I'm getting my first whack at it at 39.' Even in this first outing, his performance drew bravos from the audience and critics. 'Green … portrayed the troubled god as if he had been doing it for years,' wrote Harvey Steiman on Seen and Heard International. 'Sensitive to every singer around him, he delivered one great moment after another in his rich baritone, as silky as it is powerful.' Green actually made his debut as Wotan last year in a semi-staged production of 'Das Rheingold,' the opening 'Ring' installment at the Los Angeles Philharmonic under conductor Gustavo Dudamel. 'From the moment he walked onstage, everyone sensed his God-like presence,' Dudamel said in an email to the AP. 'When he sings, the colors and richness of his voice wash over you, and the sound completely surrounds you.' Freed to be himself As a Black man, whose 6-foot-4 height and muscular frame make him stand out in any setting, Green said the role of Wotan provides a welcome outlet for feelings that are often pent up. 'From the moment I became a man, my mom told me: 'When you walk in the street, don't walk too tall. Make yourself small, so you don't stand out, so you can survive,'' he said. 'When I sang my first Wotan, it was the first time I played a character who doesn't have to worry about what anybody else thinks of him.' Green will perform the 'Walküre' Wotan again next spring with Dudamel and the LA Philharmonic and will play Wotan in a new 'Ring' cycle at the Metropolitan Opera set to launch in the 2027-28 season, Met General Manager Peter Gelb told the AP. Practice until perfect Among his colleagues, Green is known for his relentless work ethic and perfectionism. 'He's extremely hard on himself,' said Gaffigan, who is conducting the Santa Fe performances and recalled the first time he heard from Green after he was cast. 'He called me to start discussing the role before he even got to Santa Fe,' Gaffigan said, 'And from the first words on the telephone, he said, 'I want an hour for Act 2 and an hour for Act 3, can you give me that?' … I knew this guy was really serious and he wouldn't give up on getting this time. 'The dedication to the text and the music and the rhythms is at the highest level of preparation I've heard in a long time,' Gaffigan added. 'He knows how serious this is. It's a major ascent in his career.' Green laughs when reminded of that phone call and mentions how he had prepared for his first Wagner role more than a decade ago. 'It was the Second Knight in 'Parsifal' ... and I was rehearsing for three months for a role that literally has 61 seconds of music,' Green said.. 'I was like, this is at the Met, I need to be perfect,' he said. 'That kind of mentality has been my saving grace, because I put everything I've got into it, vocally, physically, mentally.'
The Independent
2 days ago
- The Independent
Tenor Piotr Beczała sings different productions of Wagner's 'Lohengrin' 41 hours apart
Less than 41 hours after his final bows for singing the title role of 'Lohengrin' at Munich 's Bavarian State Opera, Piotr Beczała was 150 miles (241 kilometers) away at the Bayreuth Festpielhaus for a different production of the same Wagner opera. Wagner's roles are among the most punishing in classical music, and breaks of two or three days between performances are customary to allow for vocal recovery. Beczała earned thunderous ovations on Wednesday in Munich and Friday at Bayreuth. 'I was a little under pressure because Christian Thielemann is coming back to Bayreuth for this production," the 58-year-old Polish tenor said, citing his desire to please the conductor. "We did it in 2018 and '19 so, yeah, I agreed with this crazy schedule.' Limited rehearsal time Beczała and the cast for the revival of Yuval Sharon's 2018 Bayreuth production arrived July 12 for four hours of blocking at a studio, then had a 7 1/2-hour final dress rehearsal the following day in the auditorium built to Wagner's specifications. He traveled to Munich on July 14 for a recital four days later at the 150th Munich Opera Festival followed by 'Lohengrin' in Kornél Mundruczó's 2022 staging on July 27 and 30. Beczała drove back to Bayreuth the next morning for a 3 p.m. music rehearsal with Thielemann, who led Beczała's first Lohengrin in 2016. There were three more performances at Bayreuth through Aug. 9. 'Having sung Lohengrin in a different production previously, he carries a mature interpretation that can adapt fluidly to different directorial visions,' Bavarian State Opera general director Serge Dorny said. 'His preparation for both stagings was meticulous, and we knew that he would approach each performance with total professionalism and focus.' Lohengrin, a mysterious knight, arrives to unite the divided people of Brabant and defend the noblewoman Elsa from the false accusation she murdered her brother. He agrees to marry her on the condition she never ask him his name or origin. A veteran of seven productions Beczała also has sung Lohengrin in Dresden, Vienna, New York, Paris and Zurich. Mundruczó and Sharon, like many contemporary directors, abandoned Wagner's 1850 stage directions that have Lohengrin arrive and depart on a boat pulled by a swan. "He is not necessarily coming as a God-sent person,' Mundruczó said. 'It's more like someone who we are choosing, so somehow it's one of us." Monika Pormale designed stark white sets for Munich that included hilly, grassy areas in the first act. Beczała nearly slipped but caught his balance in time. Anna Axer Fijalkowska costumed Lohengrin in cream as a common man rather than medieval finery: jeans, sweatshirt and loafers. 'I go, to be honest, on airplanes more elegant than that,' Beczała said, laughing. Anna Brunnlechner, the revival stage director, didn't mind the compressed practice period. 'I prefer a very intense time, also with a bit of adrenaline, than a very long rehearsal time where you can talk every detail," she said. Bayreuth's sets and costumes were by the married artists Neo Rauch and Rosa Loy, dominated by the color Delft Blue — even Beczała's wig. Their Lohengrin is dressed like a 1930s electrician wearing a shirt and tie with overalls, arriving in a transformer and clutching a lightning bolt for a sword. Sharon, in an email to assistant director Eva-Maria Abelein he shared with the AP, called the opera 'the story of the decay of the angel." 'Lohengrin is a bringer of light, and he is humble at first — he is a servant of a higher force,' he wrote. 'But the idea of a year of bodily pleasure, joy, love, four seasons … He can't resist it. And the character we see in Act II is arrogant, full of himself, and much closer to violence. In Act III, he is brutal with his new wife — because that's what he thinks humans do.' Beczała took over for the 2018 production premiere when Roberto Alagna withdrew 27 days before the first performance. 'Piotr is really exceptional,' Abelein said Saturday. 'He took one wrong position last night and then he came off saying, 'I'm so sorry about this.' I said, 'Piotr, it's not important at all because the way he acted is important.'' Surprise liquid refreshment Wolfgang Schilly, another Bayreuth assistant director, provided Beczała some special assistance for this year's opener. Beczała was thinking about "In fernem land (In a distant land),' the third-act aria when Lohengrin reveals his name to Elsa. 'I could give a thousand dollars for just a little water before the aria but there's no space,' Beczała recalled telling him Thursday. Schilly had a tiny hole punctured in the set wall between where oversized insect wings were pinned, then inserted a straw attached to a bottle. An appreciative Beczała was able to sip. 'I'm not so sure that Neo Rauch is happy that we make a hole in his art,' Beczała said, smiling.
Times
26-07-2025
- Times
The beautiful spot on my Grand Tour that left me speechless
Arriving in Venice by train feels like an entrance through a stage door. First comes the shipping town of Marghera, a behind-the-scenes tangle of scaffolding, gantries and harlequin-coloured containers. Then the metal and grime are rinsed away by the lagoon, and from the water ascend domes and towers like painted scenery on hidden props. I can see why Grand Tourists were so keen to get to La Serenissima — as I had been four hours earlier, fleeing the classical solemnity of Rome. Venice offered sensual release; a place to wear masks and play out comedies and tragedies. After drinking heavily in taverns, aristos were reeled into gambling dens, or ridotti, where they squandered inheritances and fell into the consoling arms of courtesans. In 1730 Charles Stanhope, later the 4th Earl of Chesterfield, complained that his brother had 'spent a great deal of money on a Venetian woman, whom he thought in love with him'. I emerge from Santa Lucia railway station and take a water taxi to Casino di Venezia, the world's oldest casino, founded in 1638. A red carpet runs from the jetty on the Grand Canal to the VIP wing in Ca' Vendramin Calergi, a Renaissance palace once home to Wagner. I store my suitcase at the coat check, pay a £40 entry fee and pass suits of armour before entering a salon of old-world glamour — cut-glass chandeliers, time-softened brocade, Italians in spiffy suits and gowns crowding round green baize. I whip out my phone. 'No pictures,' a doorman snaps ( I've never gambled, but I'm determined to act the part, so I strut to a roulette table and slide into a seat. The croupier looks at me and raises an eyebrow. 'It's my first time,' I say. The croupier raises both eyebrows. I slide my only chip, €100, onto red. • Jack Ling's Grand Tour part one: The most unusual way to see Paris As the ball clatters I feign indifference, adjusting cufflinks I've forgotten to put on. It lands: red. Elated, I go again: black — win. Red? Another win. Onlookers gather as my chip stack grows. A man in a velvet jacket claps me on the shoulder. I feel like a million ducats. Now I'm about £600 up — and cocky. 'I'll put it all on black,' I announce. 'Tutto?' the croupier asks. I meet his gaze. 'Tutto.' Spin, rattle … red. There is a collective groan. Head hung, I make for the jetty and hail a water taxi to the lido. The driver says that it will cost £100. I briefly consider swimming back, then pay up. The next morning I wake at the Hotel Excelsior to sea views framed by a Moorish arch — an orientalist flourish born of Venice's fascination with the East, kindled by Marco Polo's 13th-century travels. Today the hotel is quiet, but during the Venice Film Festival it teems with actors, who in Grand Tour days ranked low on the social ladder — somewhere between jesters and lepers. They arrive in water taxis at the hotel's private pier, from where I'm departing for St Mark's Square. Fifteen minutes later I'm passing shops of gilded carnival masks, synonymous with Venetian romance but once worn by noblemen waging bloody vendettas. I eat superb sea bream at Ristorante Marco Polo, where gondoliers slump at tables like extras between takes (mains from £16; • Jack Ling's Grand Tour part two: The off-piste way to see the Alps Then it's onwards to Santa Maria Formosa Square, which is dotted with painters touching up vedute, Venetian landscapes popularised by Canaletto in the 18th century. Like proto-Instagrammers, Grand Tourists hung vedute in cabinet rooms to flex on their friends. They also coveted selfies — Pompeo Batoni painted more than 200 milords, some of them dressed in 'exotic' costume: the scholar Richard Payne Knight was partial to a toga; the Cornish aristocrat Francis Basset preferred Turkish robes. This is why I've slipped into a photo studio in the Cannaregio district, where the owner, Leontine Hamer, squeezes me into breeches and a frock coat. She is transforming me into Casanova, the 18th-century Venetian who, like me, gambled, impersonated nobility and was cursed with great beauty. As Hamer snaps me against a veduta-style backdrop, I borrow poses from the nude male model I'd drawn in Rome (from £65; • Jack Ling's Grand Tour part three: A novel way to see Rome I reluctantly peel off the costume afterwards. Some Grand Tourists never did — swallowing up young aristocrats, Venice once spat out 'macaroni', the sneering nickname for those who returned to Britain in foppish Italian dress. This polyester patrician is about to be humbled. I've been invited for espresso with the author and hostess Servane Giol, an expert on Venice who has offered to point me towards its lesser-known places. Buzzed through an unmarked door near Ponte dell'Accademia, I enter a palazzo of stone walls washed in chiaroscuro light. We sit on a terrace above the canal, my Casanova photo tucked away in my pocket like a filthy secret. • 18 of the best hotels in Venice I'm asked about my travels by Giol, who is cultivated and graceful, so everything a Grand Tourist aspires to become. I admit that I'm exhausted by all the prancing and vice. 'Go to San Lazzaro degli Armeni,' she says, her voice smooth as Murano glass (it's an island monastery in the lagoon where Lord Byron went to scrub his soul clean). We finish our drinks and I bottle a courtly hand-kiss as I leave. The next morning I board a violin on water: a 1970s mahogany speedboat (tours from £520 for eight; The city retreats as my driver, Matteo, opens the throttle. Ahead, a bell tower points heavenward, a mute promise of absolution. 'Welcome to Byron island!' Matteo chirps. For once I'm speechless, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. I step into water-lapped stillness — a monastery of Istrian stone cloistered among gently swaying palm trees. Monks in black cassocks drift through sun-scorched arches next to a garden where roses are grown for jam. I follow them towards the onion-domed campanile, entering a chapel of blue tilework and stained glass. Standing at the altar, I feel so spiritually awake that I might start speaking in tongues — or Armenian, which Byron studied here for six months in 1816 with the monks, Mekhitarists who have lived on the island since a Venetian decree in 1717. The poet's stay threatened to reform him, inspiring what he called 'conviction that there is another, better world, even in this life' (tours £9pp; +39 0415260104). *24 of the best things to do in Venice I return to the moor pier as night falls like a velvet curtain on my time in Venice. 'Where next?' Matteo asks. 'The railway station, please,' I answer. 'Then onwards to Vienna.' Tourists waiting for the vaporetto lift their phones as we pull away. I consider bowing, but the moment has passed. This article contains affiliate links that will earn us revenue Jack Ling was a guest of Byway, which has ten nights' B&B from £2,423pp, including rail travel from the UK ( and Hotel Excelsior, which has room-only doubles from £378 (
