The Oresteia is a searing spectacle, less a night at the opera than a window into the waiting room of Hell. The unappeased spirits of Cassandra, Clytemnestra, Agamemnon and the Furies gather once more around the original wound, the ritual sacrifice of Iphigenia, that set the curse of the House of Atreus in motion.
What follows is not entertainment so much as an act of witness. This is not conventional character drama. Instead, the hyper-expressivity of opera is harnessed purely for feeling: the raw transmission of vengeance, grief and collective suffering.
Commissioned by the ELISION Ensemble, The Oresteia received its premiere on 16 May 1993 at Theatre Works in Melbourne under the direction of Barrie Kosky, who also co-authored the libretto with the composer Liza Lim. More than three decades later, Sydney Chamber Opera has revived the work in a new production directed by Imara Savage who has been given licence to reimagine the piece.
Liza Lim’s score is uncompromisingly unconventional and, for many listeners, extremely confronting. Rather than offering melodic lines one can follow, the chamber ensemble produces a series of attacking ‘sound events’ that seem to operate almost independently of one another. Instruments are pushed into extreme techniques: bows saw and scratch across strings, winds shriek in a high register that mimics electronic distortion. The effect is of a world slipping and teetering off its axis. These colliding sonic assaults trap the singers on stage, who struggle to produce song only to find the words gagging in their throats or spat out in pure hysteria.
Audiences should go in with their eyes open: this was conceived as an experimental work. Liza Lim has spoken of wanting the music to function as ‘grit’ — something abrasive that prompts a physical and emotional experience rather than passive listening. Director Imara Savage, in turn, sets out to challenge operatic conventions. In the program she describes her interest in rituals designed to induce heightened emotional states. Nonsense, illogic and dream logic operate here as deliberate structural principles, used to dismantle the expectations of conventional narrative theatre.
There is something distinctly abject in the singers’ appearance as zombies — a calculated revulsion that disturbs identity, system and order. The effect is deliberately unsettling and lasts the whole hour until the encore, when the performers finally relax their bodies and reappear as glamorous opera stars, which arrives as a genuine release. The cast is ideal for this extreme soundworld: Jane Sheldon, Jessica Aszodi, Jessica O’Donoghue, Mitchell Riley, Daniel Szesiong Todd and Simon Lobelson inhabit it with remarkable commitment and stamina, while Indigo Lawson brings a quiet, haunting presence to Iphigenia. They are matched by the extraordinary ELISION Ensemble, whose players include Paula Rae (flute/piccolo), Peter Veale (oboe/cor anglais), Richard Haynes (clarinet/bass clarinet), Tristram Williams (trumpet/piccolo trumpet), Benjamin Marks (trombone), Alexander Waite (keyboard), Heathcliffe Auchinachie (electric guitar), Peter Neville (percussion), James Wannan (viola/viola d’amore), Freya Schack-Arnott (violoncello) and Kathryn Schulmeister (contrabass). Their command of Lim’s extreme techniques is total.
Particular credit must also go to designer Charles Davis and the creative team for the visual world they have built. In the open industrial space of Carriageworks they have constructed a proscenium that frames the action with a new formality. Where the original 1993 production placed the singers in boiler suits inside an abattoir, this revival relocates the House of Atreus to a hotel function room, with the characters dressed for either a wedding reception or a funeral. The opening image is deliberately banal and quietly unsettling.
One of the production’s most striking and quietly powerful sequences comes when the singers clear the chairs, peel back the carpet tiles and dig into the stage itself to create a shallow grave. A simple, physical act that suddenly makes the hotel function room feel like consecrated ground.
The opening-night crowd, a who’s who of Sydney’s opera and theatre worlds mixed with die-hard devotees of new music, responded with a rousing and well-earned ovation. For the curious considering a visit: be prepared. This is not an easy night at the theatre, but it is an unforgettable one.
Photographs by Brett Boardman.
Oresteia presented by Sydney Chamber Opera in association with ELISION Ensemble 25 July Carriageworks Sydney
