THE NEW ZEALAND OPERA SOCIETY

NBR New Zealand Opera. Mayfair Theatre, Dunedin. August 22.

NZ Opera is on tour, with a scaled down English language Don Pasquale. By a happy quirk of timing, it hit Dunedin last night, just two days before opening night of the University production of Carmen. Two operas in one year is a rare enough treat in this neck of the woods; two in one week is just plain bizarre. With the operatic drought which reigns here most of the time, it's tempting to feel so grateful for any relief that even a mediocre performance receives automatic praise, purely because it's better than nothing at all. However, this Don Pasquale is thankfully in no danger whatsoever of mediocrity — it's a beautiful show, and though it might be an oasis in our desert, I've no doubt it would succeed just as well in far lusher surroundings.

The marvel of it is that though necessarily produced on a small and portable scale, it doesn't come across as a miniature or a pale imitation of anything — rather it thrives on its limitations, glorying in what it can be instead of striving (and failing) to be what it can't. The production, brought gently forward to around 1900, exudes the bright, bustling glamour of the music hall — Norina begins her opening aria from a garden swing, clad in her frilly undergarments, and ends it by twirling a parasol while quickstepping across the stage. The sets make brilliantly inventive use of the relatively limited space available: for Don Pasquale's house the flats are painted with a montage of staircases and portrait walls which suggest a whole mansion behind the one or two pieces of furniture actually on stage; the exquisite moonlit garden in Act III deservedly drew gasps of delight from the audience. Even the most worrisome of the production's concessions to necessity — the use of an English translation — is handled with impeccable taste. Leonard Hancock's translation is exactly what it ought to be: unobtrusive and entirely happy to take second place to the singing. When comedy is called for, he provides it; but when all that's necessary is a hook on which to hang the music, he obliges then as well. The cast sings with uniformly excellent diction, and with enough expression to fill in the gaps when the requirements of the music obscure intelligibility, that not a moment of plot development or humour need be lost.

And humour there is aplenty, thanks in great part to director Conal Coad, who also performs the title role. Last year Coad was a fantastic Leporello and here he's even more in his element. He does all those growling buffo basso tricks, and has a masterful way with a patter song, but grounds them in a rounded and rich sound, so that his Pasquale is a musical pleasure as well as a comic one. That's paralleled by his characterisation: for all his hopeless preening, padded stomach and physical comedy, Coad's Don Pasquale is never reduced to a pure commedia dell'arte stock character — he remains believably and endearingly human, his despair when "Sofronia" slaps him genuinely touching.

Lorina Gore as Norina sings with sweet purity and impressive agility; if the voice occasionally lacks heft, it's amply compensated by a sparkling stage presence which ensures that even in her shrewish persona, Norina/Sofronia never comes as truly cruel or cold-hearted. She's partnered in her lighthearted romance by Ashley Catling as Ernesto.  After a somewhat thin and pressurized sounding first act, he warmed up as the opera progressed. His serenade was downright pretty and the lilting "Tornami a dir che m'ami" with Norina unquestionably the most meltingly gorgeous moment of the evening. Completing the quartet is Andrew Conley's wickedly funny Malatesta, a leering, moustache-twirling figure pulled straight from Victorian melodrama. Dapper in his cape and spats, he takes obvious pleasure in his role as puppet-master, overseeing the drama with devilish glee, and all in an elegant, mellifluous baritone which is an utter delight to hear. Don Pasquale might be the star but for me, Conley's Malatesta stole the show. Mention must also be made of Richard Leckinger, absurdly hilarious both en travesti as the mute maid Agusanta and on his knees as the deeply unmusical notary. Supporting the lot of them is Michael Vinten's stylish orchestral reduction, played with verve and brilliance by members of the Vector Wellington Orchestra under conductor Wyn Davies.

Touring opera has been a long time coming, this far south at least. But this excellent Don Pasquale is absolutely worth the wait, a skilfully executed and deeply satisfying night's entertainment.