La traviata is an opera brimming with emotions. Love, insecurity, fear, anger, passion, pride, hypocrisy, revenge, redemption and reconciliation are woven into the mix from which Verdi crafted his engrossing fabric of fragile humanity. Full of memorably great arias, it is now one of the most frequently performed of all operas. This year every Australian mainland capital has mounted a production, indeed this one is being co-produced by Perth and Brisbane. Sarah Giles directs a no-frills production, with Charles Davis’ set and costumes evoking the late 19th century. Interestingly, the authorities of Verdi’s day required it to be set ‘in the past’. The staging also gives a view of the sex work Violetta’s establishment provides and the soul destroying impact this has had on her. Also noteworthy is that the many references to the divine in Piave’s libretto seemed more obvious in this production.
The State Opera South Australia has an uncanny ability to choose good casts to complement each other. In Lauren Fagan as Violetta and Kang Wang as Alfredo, both making their company debuts, they have excelled themselves. In the opening scene, Fagan, having quickly dressed after entertaining a client, emerges from a side room to don her bold, public Violetta façade. Here she is formally introduced by Gaston (Mark Oates) to his friend the young, white-suited Wang, a shy and insecure Alfredo. Their connectedness immediately began to blossom, more obvious than is often the case. Wang’s voice was a revelation, his rich mellifluous tenor immediately grabbing my attention, so sure and confident, so true and expressive. His rendition of the Brindisi boldly captured the feelings he felt for Violetta, soon followed by his passionately sincere “Un di felice”, giving voice to the torture and delight he felt. I could imagine that the whole universe was indeed pulsing with his love. This allowed Fagan's commanding soprano to respond, hosing down his hopes. She sang with a tension in her voice, conveying the closed emotion that kept her safe while showing the crack in her defences that might let in a chance for intimacy. In Act 2, Wang’s “De' miei bollenti spiriti”, pouring out his contentment, relaxed and at peace, conveyed the hopes of a young man in love.
The voices of both Fagan and Wang were thrilling, displaying remarkable control, enthralling the full-house audience. Both wore their emotions on their sleeves. Fagan sang convincingly and compellingly of a Violetta struggling to allow herself to believe she was worthy of being loved. Her initial low self-esteem and vulnerability was painful to witness, so believable were her singing and acting. Impressive too, was how she conveyed a gradual awareness that Alfredo had touched her soul, opening the possibility in herself she had never acknowledged. We could hear her fragile confidence growing as she accepted Alfredo's love. Vocally masterful, in Act 2, was the way her singing conveyed a dignified resistance to Germont’s disdain. It was an engrossing transformation.
James Roser was a crafty, controlling Giorgio Germont. With his sweet baritone, he made his blackmailing request to Violetta to forsake Alfredo, and his appeal to his son. The way he smarmied up to Violetta with his “Ah, dunque sperdasi”, sung as if it was the epitome of reasonableness. His warm and fetching rendition of “Di Provenza il mar”, persuading Alfredo of their family home in Provence, seemed so reasonable. For a while it appeared he may have been able to get away with controlling them both, and God as well. But he had set in motion a train of events that led to disaster. These sad consequences all came powerfully together in a simplified Act 3. It was engrossing. Fagan, Wang and Roser were utterly convincing, as in a bare room containing a simple chaise longue, Violetta lay in articulo mortis. She had made peace with God, received a letter of apology from Germont (which she read with passion) and now it was all too late. With rich emotion and despair she acknowledged this with one of the most moving accounts of “Addio, del passato” I have ever heard.
All the smaller roles were well sung: Conal Coad, singing like a local GP, was convincing as a caring Doctor Grenvil; Versatile Cherie Boogaart was a flamboyant Flora, Pelham Andrews sang a determined, no nonsense Baron, and Teresa LaRocca a dutiful Annina. The chorus, well drilled by Chorus Master Anthony Hunt (destined, I feel, for greater things), were great, in many cases poised tableau-like on the wide stage. For the Act 2 concert at Flora’s, they were seated facing like the audience looking through a proscenium arch towards the athletic gypsy-toreador dancers at stage front.
Oliver von Dohnányi conducted the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra in a lively accompaniment, getting the strings to sing with amazingly atmospheric apprehension and anticipation. Hopefully State Opera South Australia will schedule more thrilling opportunities for Fagan and Wang, who both possess precious jewel-like voices.
