Tag: Opera House

Posted on by Lauren Katulka

Sunset Boulevard @ Opera House, Eora/Sydney – 12 September 2024

I can’t remember ever feeling as apprehensive about a night at the theatre as I did heading to the Opera House last night to catch Sunset Boulevard. When Opera Australia announced it would bring theatre legend Sarah Brightman to Australia to play Norma Desmond, we were thrilled. We purchased tickets as soon as they went on sale, forking out big bucks (and let’s face it, most decent seats commanded big bucks) to see this once-in-a-lifetime talent. But it seemed almost as quickly as Sarah arrived in Naarm/Melbourne for that city’s season the bad reviews went to press. The Guardian said she was “simply not up to the task … not physically, not dramatically, and certainly not vocally.” ArtsHub called her “woefully miscast,” noting that “it’s clear she does not possess the skills to play Norma”. Members of theatre communities I’m a part of on Facebook suggested understudy Sylvie Paladino was far superior, and insisted people should try to get tickets for her performances. All the chatter made me … concerned. I braced myself for the worst. Last night I walked out pleasantly surprised and wondered why the criticism had been so loud.

I don’t pretend to be an authority on Sunset Boulevard. I knew Norma Desmond was a faded star from the golden age of Hollywood who would collaborate with a young writer on a new script to relaunch her career. I knew the famous “Mr DeMille I’m ready for my close-up” line without any context and “As If We Never Said Goodbye” has long been a favourite theatre song, although again I didn’t know where it fitted into the story. I’m glad I didn’t have any preconceptions though. It meant I couldn’t compare this production to any others, I could just get swept up by the story. And I did. More than once my mouth was hanging open, shocked at the plot twists and turns.

It also meant that I couldn’t compare Sarah’s performance to the Norma Desmonds who came before. It seems some of the criticism comes from Sarah’s unique vocals. Certainly her angelic voice is a world away from the earthier tones of a Patti Lupone or a Glenn Close. Her operatic style was also a world away from the more straightforward theatre delivery of her fellow players. But she was Norma Desmond. The greatest star of them all, as we’re repeatedly told. She should stand out on that stage. I’ve read criticisms of Sarah’s voice in some of those Melbourne reviews, but I didn’t hear anything that should be picked apart. I’m not sure if she’s simply found her groove after an extended time away from the stage or they were being ruthless, but I felt blessed to witness her talents. I was especially wowed by “As If We Never Said Goodbye,” but I honestly felt like she didn’t put a foot or a note wrong.

The criticism of Sarah’s acting also feels below the belt to me. This is absolutely a demanding role. Most of us don’t know the level of madness Sarah was attempting to capture, so it’s difficult for us to say whether she did it well or not. I felt she inhabited the character, bringing all of her age and experience to the role. At 64, with extended time away from the stage, the parallels between Sarah and Norma are evident. Norma is clearly more unhinged, delusional, and off-the-wall, but Sarah took on all of that. I believed her, and I’m not sure you can ask more of an actor than that.

Sarah is the star, and quite rightly so, but she’s supported beautifully by the rest of the cast. Tim Draxl and Robert Grubb are some of the nation’s best. Ashleigh Rubenach has taken on major roles in smaller productions, but most often she’s part of the ensemble. She showed such promise as Betty, shining every time she stepped on stage. I’ve often marvelled at the depth of talent we have here in Australia. We can bring a star like Sarah here, and it’s wonderful when we do, but we honestly don’t need to.

While I’m heaping praise on the production, it’d be remiss of me not to mention the incredible set. I haven’t seen grandeur like it. Bringing a story that began as a film to life on the stage is always a hard ask; I can’t recall a team ever doing it so well. It was immersive, impressive, and beautiful.

If you’re plugged into the theatre community like me, you may have already written Sunset Boulevard off. Don’t. I’m not sure whether it’s found its feet in Sydney or people were simply unkind, but it’s an exciting revival. Sarah Brightman is a natural Norma Desmond, but every actor plays their part to make this production so special. Go see it, and Sarah, while you can. Sunset Boulevard plays at the Opera House in Eora/Sydney until November 1.

Image source: own photo

Posted on by Lauren Katulka

Glen Hansard @ Opera House, Sydney – 20 March 2014

You may or may not have noticed I had a few technical glitches around here. I was all set to tell you about my concert goings to find I couldn’t get into my editing site, or the blog at all. My husband found the same problem, I verified I had indeed renewed the domain, so he directed the problem to our server. They just got back to him and informed him it was always in working order. Curiously, it seems that now it is. Neither of us had any idea what went on, but at least I can finally update you all about those brilliant concerts!

So, first one of the bat, the incredible Glen Hansard. I’d seen him perform several times with Marketa Irglova, but this was my first chance to see him “solo.” Of course, Glen is never really solo. He was ably supported by a posse of musicians, including in parts his sublime support act Lisa O’Neill.

What a breath of fresh air this Irish lass was. She began her set brave and bold, standing alone on the stage just singing a capella from her gut. There’s an intensity about her that is so compelling. She’s a tiny wee thing, a bit of a plain Jane, but she had the most amazing presence. Even when she was joined on stage by her musicians and backup singers, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her songs were also incredible, with just the right mix of kook and heart. I can’t remember being so impressed by a support act as I was with Lisa O’Neill. I’m such a fan, and judging by the hush over the Opera House I wasn’t the only convert.

There was a similar hush once Glen emerged with just his beat-up acoustic guitar. He stood on the very edge of the stage, as close as he could to his adoring crowd, as he sang “Say it To Me Now.” It was such a fitting choice, a song with a history that goes back to his time in The Frames, despite it reaching the masses in his breakthrough musical Once. His set drew heavily from these two chapters of his life, while also featuring some of his solo numbers.

Whatever he sang, he gave it his all. This is why I return to his shows time and time again. He never phones it in. He offers every ounce of his soul to his audience, and leaves his heart raw and bleeding out there. He takes the concept of feeling a lyric to the next level.

I wondered how he’d go performing “Falling Slowly” without Marketa there. Leaving it out would have been virtually unforgivable. But he found a willing partner in April, a gorgeous young thing sitting in the seat in front of me with the voice of an angel. This is the second time I’ve been wowed by the audience volunteers in the Opera House, the first being during Idina Menzel’s performance last year. Thank goodness for audience members who only volunteer to sing when they can! She was incredible.

This was billed as a Glen Hansard solo show, but he isn’t a guy that really performs solo. He was backed by an incredible band made up of members of The Frames and other talents. The instruments helped his songs soar. He brought back Lisa O’Neill towards the end of his set to rapturous applause. Seeing them both having so much fun singing “Mustang Sally” was brilliant. And then he added fellow Irish troubadour Damien Dempsey to the mix for two Irish classics, “The Auld Triangle” and the final poignant song, “The Parting Glass.” I might not have ever visited Ireland like so many of the expats in the audience, but I think I was every bit as moved.

As I woke the next morning, I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. Lisa didn’t take the stage until 8 pm, and Glen is such a generous performer that we weren’t back to the Central Coast until well after 2 am. Getting back to work the next morning was a big ask. But I’d do it all again for a show that incredible.

Image source: own photos

Posted on by Lauren Katulka

Counting Crows @ Opera House, Sydney – April 9 2013

Goodness, has it really been that long? I apologise, I really do. Life’s been a bit hectic with birthday celebrations (yes plural – I managed to stretch mine out over four days, which is no mean feat) and concerts. I could wax lyrical about the former, but since this is a music blog turning my attention to the latter is probably for the best.

The day before the big birthday bash I made a pilgrimage to the Opera House to see one of my favourite bands of all time, the Counting Crows. I’ve loved them since I hit my teenage years and the lads released August and Everything After. So much has happened since then, but I found myself becoming that enthusiastic thirteen-year-old again as I entered the venue.

I’m kicking myself that my dinner dragged on and I missed the start of Jackson McLaren’s set. Vocally he reminded me a lot of one of my favourite singers Howie Day, but his tight alt-country rock band gave his music a different dynamic. Not enough acts play with a fiddle either; I take my virtual hat off to their violinist who added a real richness to the sound. I definitely want to hear more from Jackson and his crew. I’m a fan.

I could have listened to Jackson all night if I weren’t so psyched to see the Counting Crows. They set the scene with the opening number, one of those first singles “Round Here”. It’s a song that’s morphed into something very different over the years, as many of the Counting Crows songs have. The band likes to play free and easy with the melodies and lyrics, which can be alienating. I know I’ve criticised some acts for this before. But I felt that the changes were sincere and heartfelt. It wasn’t about being bored with the songs or trying to be clever. It’s just how they come out right now.

The Counting Crows aren’t a band that ever delivers a predictable set. There are no certainties, and that makes every favorite song you hear that much more exciting. To hear my two absolute favourites was something I hadn’t dared dreamed of. Yet sure enough, “Mrs Potter’s Lullaby” made an early appearance, and “Anna Begins” came out in the encore. “Colourblind” was also breathtaking, with a single spotlight on singer Adam Duritz ensuring we stayed transfixed. As if that was ever in doubt. “Rain King” had me pumping my fists in exultation.

If I was to make any criticism it’s that I wish Adam talked to us a little more. We had a word here or there, but there were none of the long explanations of songs or tales of travel that I adore. However it’s a bit hard to criticise someone for not sharing enough of themselves when they do it so completely with their music.

They say that you can never really go back and perhaps that’s true, but when you can spend a night with a favourite band it feels like for just a few hours, you can.

Image source: Jimmy Harris @ Flickr

Posted on by Lauren Katulka

Ben Harper @ Opera House, Sydney – 12 November 2012

I knew I’d be in for a special night when Ben Harper brought his acoustic show to the Sydney Opera House. The combination of stripped back music from one of my favourite performers in one of Australia’s most beloved venues was always going to impress. But I wasn’t prepared for just how much Ben would give us.

There was no support act, no backing band, no intermission: just Ben Harper and an enthralled Sydney crowd coming together for close to four hours. Never before have I witnessed an artist giving an audience so much of themselves and their time. He remarked a few times on the quality of the sound in the Opera House, the best he’d ever experienced he said, and it seemed he wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.

The show wasn’t quite the acoustic evening we were promised. Ben didn’t mind plugging in his electric guitar for a blistering rendition of “Please Bleed” that morphed into “Something in the Way.” But no one cared if Ben played strictly by the rules. I was delighted to see him moving easily from instrument to instrument, delivering a number on his slide guitar, then taking up a ukulele, before sitting down at the piano. We even heard a bit of xylophone!

The set list was stellar, with many fan favourites and exciting reworkings of some of his biggest hits. I loved the bluegrass flavour he brought to “Steal My Kisses,” and the original lullaby stylings of “With My Own Two Hands.” I was particularly thrilled to hear my personal favourites “Walk Away” and “Waiting on an Angel” performed so beautifully.

The show was as much about connecting with words as much as music though. Ben seemed genuinely happy to interact with the crowd as they yelled out quips and requests between songs. He also shared so much of himself, stories about his family, his childhood, and the people he’s met. I was particularly moved to hear of the time he met Jeff Buckley at a French Music Festival, and when Heath Ledger gifted him his grand piano. These personal tales were made even more poignant when accompanied with “Hallelujah,” a Leonard Cohen song Jeff famously covered, and “Morning Yearning,” a song that saw Heath Ledger playing music video director.

After two generous encores, Ben closed the evening in true acoustic style. He sat at the front of the stage while he serenaded us with “Suzie Blue.” Without even a microphone to amplify his voice or ukulele, the crowd were hushed to hear. It was a stunning end to a spectacular night of music.

Image source: own photos

Posted on by Lauren Katulka

The Swell Season @ Opera House, Sydney – 5 April 2010

After catching The Swell Season’s incredible set at the Opera House last year, I was keen for a second helping. They’ve added a few songs to the set since then, but really nothing much has changed.

Byron Bay Bluesfest 2010 - Day 2

We were warmed up by Leroy Lee, a promising singer-songwriter who seemed very much in awe of his surroundings. He told us he’d played to larger crowds in the last three shows than he had in three years, and those nerves showed a little. But the songs ranged from quietly pleasant to amazing. There are so many singer-songwriters delivering folk music on an acoustic guitar, but his plucky female double bassist brought something new. I’m not sure I’d catch Leroy’s set again, particularly as it put my husband to sleep, but I really liked what I heard.

While the crowd listened attentively to Leroy Lee, it erupted for The Swell Season. Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova, and The Frames are a very special act indeed. While they won the Academy Award for best song from a movie a few years back, they’re not the darlings of commercial radio or the indie press. To love them is to be in on a little secret, to be part of a club brought together for listening to music as it should be played.

The set drew heavily from the soundtrack of that movie, Once, and their latest album Strict Joy. As a collective the music swelled, as it were, a rich tapestry of acoustic guitar, piano, electric mandolin, fiddle, and more. While the sound wasn’t as lush when the band members took to the stage individually it was often more compelling. Glen Hansard attacked the guitar, his voice ravaged with emotion as he sang two of my personal favorites, “Say It To Me Now” and “Leave.” Marketa Irglova’s introspective version of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” almost brought me undone. This was music that really meant something.

Not that the band doesn’t know how to have fun. Even Czech Marketa seems to have inherited the Irish cheek of her bandmates. She shared the way the boys in her home country hit girls with sticks around the leg as a strange Easter custom, while Glen told us of the time he bought a funeral plot as a grand gesture for a teenage love interest. The quirky tales and wide smiles helped to balance the music that oft times is so raw it’s unbearable.

Another special moment came when the band brought part Aboriginal, part Cherokee singer LJ Hill to the stage. They’d stumbled across his set during Bluesfest and awestruck by his soulful music, urged him to join them for a song. Hearing his very distinctly Australian lyrics juxtaposed with The Swell Season’s lush instrumentation was something I won’t forget.

This was a concert experience as it should be, a coming together of audience and band to create something organic and beautiful. In true Irish tradition, the band left us with the time honoured folk tune “Parting Glass,” encouraging us to sing the refrain “Good night and joy be with you all.” To The Swell Season we raised our proverbial glass, bidding them farewell until they make their return.