This DVD captures what was a new venture for Opera Australia 
                  in 2012. Going under the title of Handa Opera, the company put 
                  on a large-scale performance of La Traviata on a floating 
                  stage on Sydney Harbour with the cityscape forming a very impressive 
                  setting. At times it’s very impressive to look at, at 
                  times it’s hackneyed to the point of cliché, but 
                  you just might enjoy it, especially if you know Sydney. 
                    
                  Ever a sucker for marketing, it was the - slightly touched-up 
                  - cover photo that drew me to this DVD and, truth be told, it’s 
                  the setting that makes this Traviata both interesting 
                  and flawed. The backdrop of Sydney is stunning to see, with 
                  the floodlit Opera House and Harbour Bridge taking their place 
                  in the overall scheme. When I was lucky enough to go to a performance 
                  in the Sydney Opera House back in 2002, I thought to myself 
                  that no theatre in the world has a better view to take in during 
                  your interval drinks. You get much of that here, including the 
                  ferries steaming by, but you also get to see Jørn Utzon’s 
                  crazy creation itself. In fact, though, you don’t get 
                  to see much of the bridge and theatre: instead it’s the 
                  city skyscrapers that most often fill the backdrop, and their 
                  most prominent features are the lit-up advertisements for banks 
                  and hotels that are forever creeping in behind the singers’ 
                  heads! Bregenz it isn’t, but as a setting for a floating 
                  stage it’s not at all bad. The major disadvantage with 
                  a large-scale outdoor performance like this comes with the recorded 
                  sound which is necessarily boxy and artificial. The singers 
                  all wear radio-microphones and the orchestra is imprisoned below 
                  the stage, and the two are blended together to produce the sound 
                  from your DVD speaker. It’s limited, but you need to accept 
                  this and learn to live with it early on in the performance. 
                  
                    
                  The performance itself is fine, if a little workaday in places. 
                  Emma Matthews is a very effective Violetta. She uses her lyrical 
                  voice to great effect, singing with ringing intensity and a 
                  good deal of beauty, pinging out the high notes and never showing 
                  any discomfort. She also manages to change the colour of her 
                  voice most effectively for the final act. The men aren’t 
                  as impressive. Gianluca Terranova is solid and has all the notes, 
                  but he’s a bit of a belter and doesn’t really know 
                  the meaning of subtlety, perhaps another consequence of the 
                  setting. Even the normally reliable Jonathan Summers is a bit 
                  off colour. He tends to attack the notes from below and in the 
                  high sections, such as Pura siccome un angelo, he sounds 
                  noticeably stretched. 
                    
                  Francesca Zambello’s production is both large-scale and 
                  sparse at the same time. The main stage is meant to be a gilt-edged 
                  mirror, representing the characters’ obsession with physical 
                  appearance, though I admit that this was lost on me. Costumes 
                  are fairly non-specific, though the matadors and gypsies at 
                  Flora’s party all look outrageous. The crowd scenes naturally 
                  work best, and the duets and arias tend to be a bit lost on 
                  the massive stage. Furthermore, the massive chandelier that 
                  overhangs the set looks very pretty but isn’t used very 
                  much at all, except perhaps as a great, clunking metaphor that 
                  is as subtle as Terranova’s singing. Zambello couldn’t 
                  resist letting off a tirade of fireworks at the end of the Brindisi 
                  and, more effectively, a single shot as Violetta dies. In fact, 
                  in an extremely vacuous interview in the extras she displays 
                  typical directorial modesty by claiming that fireworks will, 
                  from now on, be an essential part of La Traviata! 
                    
                  Make of all this what you will, but let’s be honest: this 
                  DVD will appeal in particular to those who were at the performance 
                  or those who know Sydney, and for one watch I enjoyed it. However, 
                  performances from Solti 
                  and Gheorghiu, or Pappano 
                  with Fleming, are safe on my shelves. Go into it this once 
                  with open eyes and you’ll probably enjoy it. 
                    
                  Simon Thompson