Latest news with #DanielleDeNiese
The Guardian
13-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘It's a high-wire act. Every choice matters': Danielle de Niese takes on opera's most notorious femme fatale
Not a flounce, ruffle or rose clenched between teeth is in sight when Danielle de Niese sashays onstage as Carmen – dressed in a boiler suit. The Australian-born lyric soprano's Carmen will not be the Gypsy seductress audiences have come to expect. In Opera Australia's new production, set in present-day Seville, she is a grounded woman ending another long shift in a cigarette factory. She loosens the fastenings around the neck of her uniform – a glimpse of glistening shoulder, an arch of the back and throat. To her female co-workers, she is hot, exhausted and stiff. To the lads waiting and watching, she is something else. 'Through the male gaze, something functional can appear alluring,' De Niese says. 'To the males watching that moment becomes charged.' De Niese, speaking to the Guardian in June shortly after arriving in the country to begin rehearsals for her debut performance in the Bizet opera, says her iteration of Carmen has not emerged out of a desire to 'just do something different for the sake of it'. 'I just want every word, every gesture, to feel believable. That's the only thing that matters.' Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning For years, De Niese's fans had nudged her toward Carmen – a natural fit, they assumed, for a sultry-looking soprano known as much for her theatrical flair as her vocal precision. But until now she had resisted the obvious casting. 'It wasn't about the aria's reputation,' she says of the instantly recognisable Habanera, Carmen's opening solo. 'It was the story in the lyrics that really caught me. I realised I'd never actually listened to them before – not really.' What drew her in was the way Carmen's fate is foretold in her first few lines: Love is a rebellious bird / That no one can tame. 'We hear the Habanera and think, 'Oh here she comes, the femme fatale.' But the text is full of foreboding. It's a warning. That's what I wanted to tell – not just the song, but the story.' In this new take on Carmen, directed by Melbourne Theatre Company's Anne-Louise Sarks, cliches are both acknowledged and upended. In one sequence, the ensemble parades through a surreal Carmen-themed carnival, donning the very stereotypes the opera has long perpetuated – mantillas, castanets, off-the-shoulder peasant blouses. But the Carmen in this production is emotionally complex – proud, spirited and caught in a love that corrodes as much as it consumes. 'I'm really interested in the kind of love that can unravel you,' De Niese says. 'The kind that starts as passion and turns into something toxic – and you don't see it happening until you've lost yourself.' This is the challenge De Niese has set herself: not to reinvent Carmen, but to restore her complexity. 'I don't want her to be a cool enigma,' she says. 'I want her to feel like someone you know. Someone whose choices you understand, even if you don't agree with them.' She points to the recent testimony of singer Cassie Ventura in her case against her ex-boyfriend Sean 'Diddy' Combs as a contemporary example of 'those emotional entanglements, that blurring of control and desire. That's very real. And very now.' To an outsider looking in, De Niese's own life appears less than real, more like a fairytale. Born in Melbourne to Sri Lankan parents, her first taste of fame came early, becoming Young Talent Time Discovery Quest's youngest ever winner at the age of nine in 1988. The family moved to Los Angeles, and at the age of 16, De Niese won an Emmy for her role as a regular guest host of the TV program LA Kids. By then, the child prodigy had already made her operatic debut with the Los Angeles Opera. At 19 she was singing Barbarina in The Marriage of Figaro at the Metropolitan Opera. Seven years later, she wowed audiences as Cleopatra in Giulio Cesare at the prestigious Glyndebourne festival. Marriage to Gus Christie, the third generation of Christies to own and operate Glyndebourne, followed. Her life as lady of the manor at the historic English estate is 'idyllic', she admits, but it took a bit of work initially to be accepted by elitists as something more than an American interloper. She was interrogated about her knowledge of cricket – amusing she concedes, given her Australian and Sri Lankan backgrounds – and pilloried when the last of Glyndebourne's famous dynasty of pugs died and she replaced them with bulldogs and Portuguese waterdogs. Today, she graciously wears the New York Times title of 'opera's coolest soprano', and in 2023 Tatler named her as one of Britain's 25 best dressed. 'People see the highlights and think it was all silver platter,' she says. But her career, she insists, has not been filled with shortcuts: 'I've been the tortoise, not the hare. I've taken risks, yes, but every step, slow. Every choice, deliberate.' That discipline has preserved her voice – and allowed it to evolve. 'Ten years ago, I couldn't have sung Carmen,' she says. 'Now it sits perfectly. My voice has broadened, darkened. It feels like it's grown into its home.' As Carmen, she intends to do just that. Not an archetype, not a cautionary tale – but a woman, vivid and vulnerable, stepping out from the smoke, fully alive. 'Opera is a high-wire act,' she says. 'Every choice matters. But the most important one is this: tell the story like it's happening for the first time. Make it real.' Opera Australia's Carmen runs until 19 September at Sydney Opera House; and from 15-25 November at Regent Theatre, Melbourne
The Guardian
12-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘It's a high-wire act. Every choice matters': Danielle de Niese takes on opera's most notorious femme fatale
Not a flounce, ruffle or rose clenched between teeth is in sight when Danielle de Niese sashays onstage as Carmen – dressed in a boiler suit. The Australian-born lyric soprano's Carmen will not be the Gypsy seductress audiences have come to expect. In Opera Australia's new production, set in present-day Seville, she is a grounded woman ending another long shift in a cigarette factory. She loosens the fastenings around the neck of her uniform – a glimpse of glistening shoulder, an arch of the back and throat. To her female co-workers, she is hot, exhausted and stiff. To the lads waiting and watching, she is something else. 'Through the male gaze, something functional can appear alluring,' de Niese says. 'To the males watching that moment becomes charged.' De Niese, speaking to the Guardian in June shortly after arriving in the country to begin rehearsals for her debut performance in the Bizet opera, says her iteration of Carmen has not emerged out of a desire to 'just do something different for the sake of it'. 'I just want every word, every gesture, to feel believable. That's the only thing that matters.' Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning For years, de Niese's fans had nudged her toward Carmen – a natural fit, they assumed, for a sultry-looking soprano known as much for her theatrical flair as her vocal precision. But until now she had resisted the obvious casting. 'It wasn't about the aria's reputation,' she says of the instantly recognisable Habanera, Carmen's opening solo. 'It was the story in the lyrics that really caught me. I realised I'd never actually listened to them before – not really.' What drew her in was the way Carmen's fate is foretold in her first few lines: Love is a rebellious bird / That no one can tame. 'We hear the Habanera and think, 'Oh here she comes, the femme fatale.' But the text is full of foreboding. It's a warning. That's what I wanted to tell – not just the song, but the story.' In this new take on Carmen, directed by Melbourne Theatre Company's Anne-Louise Sarks, cliches are both acknowledged and upended. In one sequence, the ensemble parades through a surreal Carmen-themed carnival, donning the very stereotypes the opera has long perpetuated – mantillas, castanets, off-the-shoulder peasant blouses. But the Carmen in this production is emotionally complex – proud, spirited and caught in a love that corrodes as much as it consumes. 'I'm really interested in the kind of love that can unravel you,' de Niese says. 'The kind that starts as passion and turns into something toxic – and you don't see it happening until you've lost yourself.' This is the challenge de Niese has set herself: not to reinvent Carmen, but to restore her complexity. 'I don't want her to be a cool enigma,' she says. 'I want her to feel like someone you know. Someone whose choices you understand, even if you don't agree with them.' She points to the recent testimony of singer Cassie Ventura in her case against her ex-boyfriend Sean 'Diddy' Combs as a contemporary example of 'those emotional entanglements, that blurring of control and desire. That's very real. And very now.' To an outsider looking in, de Niese's own life appears less than real, more like a fairytale. Born in Melbourne to Sri Lankan parents, her first taste of fame came early, becoming Young Talent Time Discovery Quest's youngest ever winner at the age of nine in 1988. The family moved to Los Angeles, and at the age of 16, de Niese won an Emmy for her role as a regular guest host of the TV program LA Kids. By then, the child prodigy had already made her operatic debut with the Los Angeles Opera. At 19 she was singing Barbarina in The Marriage of Figaro at the Metropolitan Opera. Seven years later, she wowed audiences as Cleopatra in Giulio Cesare at the prestigious Glyndebourne festival. Marriage to Gus Christie, the third generation of Christies to own and operate Glyndebourne, followed. Her life as lady of the manor at the historic English estate is 'idyllic,' she admits, but it took a bit of work initially to be accepted by elitists as something more than an American interloper. She was interrogated about her knowledge of cricket – amusing she concedes, given her Australian and Sri Lankan backgrounds – and pilloried when the last of Glyndebourne's famous dynasty of pugs died and she replaced them with bulldogs and Portuguese waterdogs. Today, she graciously wears the New York Times title of 'opera's coolest soprano', and in 2023 Tatler named her as one of Britain's 25 best dressed. 'People see the highlights and think it was all silver platter,' she says. But her career, she insists, has not been filled with shortcuts: 'I've been the tortoise, not the hare. I've taken risks, yes, but every step, slow. Every choice, deliberate.' That discipline has preserved her voice – and allowed it to evolve. 'Ten years ago, I couldn't have sung Carmen,' she says. 'Now it sits perfectly. My voice has broadened, darkened. It feels like it's grown into its home.' As Carmen, she intends to do just that. Not an archetype, not a cautionary tale – but a woman, vivid and vulnerable, stepping out from the smoke, fully alive. 'Opera is a high-wire act,' she says. 'Every choice matters. But the most important one is this: tell the story like it's happening for the first time. Make it real.' Opera Australia's Carmen runs until 19 September at Sydney Opera House; and from 15-25 November at Regent Theatre, Melbourne
Times
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
The 5 best country house opera festivals — an expert's guide
As much of a summer fixture as Ascot or Wimbledon — but with grunting tennis players and whinnying horses swapped for more melodious sounds — Britain's country house opera festivals are in full swing. Taking place in and among some of the most beautiful estates and grounds in England, the specifics may change but some things are constant: quality performers, bucolic spots to have a picnic in a dinner interval, and the strong allure of something fizzy to drink, whether it's champagne or sparkling elderflower. • Read more opera reviews, guides and interviews I've been lucky enough to be able to visit most of these festivals. But what are the differences between them — and how do you get the best from your experience? Read my last-minute guide, and do contribute in the comments with your favourite recommendations and tips. Centered on a Tudorbethan pile that has been in the hands of the Christie family since the 1830s, the Glyndebourne Festival is (gently) steered today by the present ruling Christie, Gus, who is the executive chairman. History repeated itself when he married the soprano Danielle de Niese — his grandfather, John, who founded the festival, was also married to a soprano, Audrey Mildmay — and the chatelaine usually headlines an opera production every other year. (Their elder child, Bacchus, has already appeared on stage in Britten's A Midsummer Night's Dream.) There are three restaurants, a ha-ha and sheep frolicking on nearby fields — it's the motherlode of English summer opera. Perhaps surprisingly, value: the Glyndebourne theatre has a wider range of ticket prices than the other festivals, but you need to be logging on when booking opens in the spring to get a sniff at the cheaper ones. In for a penny … this year the company put on its first production of Parsifal, Wagner's mystical swansong, winning particular acclaim for the conducting of its (increasingly mystical himself) music director Robin Ticciati. Don't expect to be able to get a taxi from Lewes station without booking it — things can get brutal in that queue as black tie-wearing opera buffs slug it out for the few remaining cars. The smart choice is to reserve a seat on Glyndebourne's coach. To Aug 24; • Sathnam Sanghera: Can a trip to Glyndebourne make me like opera? Confusingly, not in Garsington, Oxfordshire, although the festival started there. Since 2011 it has been a few miles down the road, across the Buckinghamshire border, in the Wormsley estate of Mark Getty (yes, of those Gettys). The glass-paned theatre has won awards and rightly so, fitting in snugly into the Chilterns landscape. The festival has scored some great artistic successes in the past year — helped by a fertile relationship co-producing shows with the Santa Fe festival in New Mexico — and recently opened new studios for rehearsal and education work. If you recognise the picturesque cricket ground, it's most likely from scenes filmed for Downton Abbey. Friendliness. More intimate than Glyndebourne but still with huge grounds to explore, it's the sort of place where you can have odd chats with strangers while dodging froglets by the lake, and the artistic director, the conductor Douglas Boyd, makes it his business to be a cheery public ambassador for the company. The Queen of Spades, Tchaikovsky's thriller-cum-ghost story, is hard to stage well, but Jack Furness has done an excellent job, as has Boyd in the pit. Don't leave your sandwiches, or even any small children, unattended for a minute — they will get carried off by the increasingly feral, ever more gigantic and completely unafraid red kites. To Jul 22; • Read more opera reviews, guides and interviews Wasfi Kani's opera festival began life in Hampshire — at the Grange, near Alresford, which now has its own festival, see below — before decamping to the Surrey estate inherited by Bamber Gascoigne from an eccentric reclusive aunt, the Duchess of Roxburghe. Inside the crumbling, mostly Jacobean mansion Kani salvaged treasures that included the liveries of the duchess's servants; in the grounds she raised enough money to build a new theatre from scratch, which happened in less than a year. Visitors can now choose between eating in the restaurant — in some of the less dilapidated rooms of the house — or picnicking in the walled gardens. Big names. Bryn Terfel is a regular visitor; this year it's Simon Keenlyside, playing his namesake Simon Boccanegra in Verdi's dark drama. All respect to Keenlyside, but the hidden gem of the season is Tchaikovsky's timely Mazeppa, rarely performed in the west, and set in a pivotal era of Ukrainian history. The Times awarded it five stars. This might be a bit infra dig, but you can actually slope off to the pub in the dinner interval (if you don't fancy an M&S quiche in a freezing marquee). The very agreeable Duke of Wellington is only a 15-minute walk away. To July 13; This was the home of Grange Park Opera, which pitched its tents by an idyllic Greek revivalist estate that had been saved from destruction by its owners, the Barings, by English Heritage (who now run it on their behalf, an arrangement I'm not sure anyone understands). Then when GPO went north to Surrey, a new regime took over and they have put on a more varied range of entertainment in the bijou theatre, converted from the house's old orangery. Expect to find more dance and jazz than at other opera festivals; this year — clutch your pearls — there's even a night devoted to the music of Queen and Freddie Mercury. The most remote and rural-feeling of the main festivals, this one has some dazzling views, whether of unbroken Hampshire countryside or the neoclassical mansion set against fields and meadows. Imported from France comes a new version of Rameau's Les Indes Galantes, with hip-hop-inspired choreography. Whatever it costs to get one of the elite Ivanhoe-style tents surely must be worth it. Be a princess for the day. To Jul 6; The invention of Martin Graham, who turned his barn into a 500-seat auditorium, this Gloucestershire redoubt has a truly splendid view over the Cotswolds countryside and a theatre topped by statues of Wagner, Verdi and Mozart. Yes, it's the apogee of English eccentricity, but artistic standards have been rising every year and the company's 2024 Ring cycle was a seriously impressive achievement. Normally Wagner, although this year they have swapped the composer's epic dramas for a contemporary work about the Wagner family, Wahnfried. The new production of Purcell's Dido and Aeneas will be expanded with other Purcellian numbers, provided by the virtuosic yet earthy players of Barokksolistene. Inexplicably, some patrons have been seen having their quiches in the car park, even though there's one of the best views in England from the picnic lawn just round the Aug 2; Nevill Holt in Leicestershire no longer puts opera at the forefront of its festival, though it did team up with Opera North for a well received Così fan tutte this summer. Waterperry, near Oxford, has a rising reputation for bringing on young artists, and this year's forthcoming production of Handel's Semele also comes to Holland Park in west London. Dorset Opera Festival sets its stall at Bryanston, usually offering an interesting rarity (though this year it's populist Verdi, Puccini and Mascagni). Finally, Wild Arts has its cake and eats it — the Essex-based company packs its bags and heads from idyllic spot to spot, venues including Elveden Hall in Norfolk and Childerley Hall in Cambridgeshire.
