In Verdi’s Otello, a retelling of the Shakespeare masterpiece, the plain-speaking Desdemona loses Otello’s love, and even though she protests her innocence against charges that she has been unfaithful, her mournful Willow Song foretells tragedy. Murder inevitably lies ahead.
The Georgian soprano Tamar Iveri, imported to Sydney to play Desdemona, was less convincing when protesting her innocence this past weekend of year-old homophobic slurs posted under her name on her Facebook page, but it was murder by social media. Opera Australia succumbed to days of pressure and, in an attempt to smother the loud protests, finally sacked her.
On Monday morning, following a weekend in which sponsors Mazda and Qantas weighed in with their concerns, Opera Australia announced it had parted ways with Iveri, releasing her from her contract for Otello and for Tosca later in the year in Melbourne. Iveri’s views, it said, were “unconscionable”. Bravo.
Iveri’s May 2013 rant, in the form of an open letter to the Georgian president, compared peaceful gay protesters to “fecal masses” and endorsed anti-gay violence, speaking of the need to “break jaws”. She compared gays to food rejected by her little dog, whom she is fond of dressing up with a bonny bow on its head.
Certainly, the Western values and “propaganda” that Iveri’s letter rails against suggest she has a right to be heard, and enlightenment values might have us contemplating the staging of some sort of public forum in Australia to productively debate her views. As attorney general George Brandis might argue, she has the right to be a bigot. But Iveri’s support of violence undermines any credibility of her worldview. It is difficult to know who would be interested in the words of someone who advocates physical harm.
Besides, given the storm of protest on Twitter and Facebook this past weekend, it is unlikely Iveri would be candid about her ugly prejudices in a productive open forum again. While she has unreservedly apologised for the posting, the speed with which the story was picked up around the world suggests the harm to her career and bank balance probably presaged her sorry-speak.
On balance, Opera Australia’s decision was the right one, although unnecessarily prolonged and poorly handled. The company had dithered at first with a “no comment”. Then, without any placating editorial comment in support of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and intersex people, blandly relayed Iveri’s explanation that it was her husband who was guilty of posting the rant.
But before casting her husband as some sort of Iago puppet-master figure, consider that last year, when Iveri’s nasty open letter reached Paris, Iveri wrote to GLBT advocates apologising for her views. Probably, she was spurred by fears about her continued employment in the French theatre houses. In any case, there was no mention of her husband publishing under her name then. Indeed, in subsequent interviews, Iveri was tearing into gay people again; claiming “naked men” were “running in the streets of Tbilsi, making sexual moves”.
Her sacking won’t harm the show: Nicole Car had been waiting in the wings to play Desdemona in this production after July 22 anyway. Other Australian sopranos, such as Cheryl Barker, have played Desdemona. Operagoers attend Otello for Verdi, or Tosca for Puccini (and John Bell’s production), but not, I would suggest, in significant numbers for a performer such as Iveri.
Might an audience boycott have been smarter? That proposal might have wrecked the show’s viability. The suggestion by a Melbourne academic that Iveri be kept on to perform in some sort of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and intersex benefit show would merely turn opera to pantomime. A charade. Insincere. An audience turn-off.
Besides, given the army of gay performers, technicians, publicists, arts journalists and theatregoers, who the hell would want to attend? Except to throw a glitter bomb at the stage door, perhaps.
Do not expect operagoers to wave Iveri goodbye at Sydney’s Mascot Airport. Desdemona’s departure may have been dramatic, but the off-stage performance rang hollow.