Opera review: Bliss

Published on Friday 3 September 2010 19:50

Bliss **** Edinburgh Festival Theatre

Harry Joy could almost be Reggie Perrin. But instead of voluntarily faking his death, he awakens from a heart attack and momentary clinical death, to discover that the true nature of his life has been a living hell. Time to leave it all behind – the job, the wife, and everything else that seemed to suit him before. In his search for a simpler, more truthful way, he finds bliss.

This week saw the Festival opening of the European premiere of Brett Dean's opera Bliss, a craftily worked reduction by librettist Amanda Holden of Peter Carey's novel. Dean's music is a whirlwind of complex but logical ideas that help sew together Holden's operatic rationalisation of the plot and its most complex character, Harry.

The sung lines are memorably lyrical, a gnawing thread to orchestral writing that provides a gritty underscore – literally, in a mix of electronic and jazz inflexions; and psychological, in the sense that Harry's inner turmoil finds a symbolic outlet in this turbulent cocktail in its sinewy angst.

Add the spectacle of Brian Thomson's malleable set – a cascade of LED lighting effects that range from video games-like imagery to literal locators, such as Brisbane's Story Bridge – and you have something that dreams are made of: grand opera in a contemporary context. Take the opening scene, busy with folk, awash with hard-hitting music, and a clutter of energy that startles the senses like a incendiary device. Apart from a minor lull in the final scene, which redeems itself in the gentle final moments, the energy rarely flags.

Perhaps this opera's greatest triumph is the success with which it marries a modern vernacular text with a structure that is as old as Aida. Peter Coleman Wright's lead role is brave, ballsy and convincing. Lorina Gore as Honey B, portrays his lover as someone akin to Wedekind's Lulu, a creature from anywhere but nowhere. Around them, a solid cast play the cardboard cut-outs they effectively are.

Elgar Howarth and the BBC Symphony Orchestra serve up Dean's hugely busy score with unflagging efficiency, shaping its surges with potency and an easy feel for its flitting styles. Opera Australia's chorus give impact to the crowd scenes. "We are the garbage for a modern age," they declare – which this dynamic opera certainly isn't.