Underworld: An Operatic Journey to Hell and Back | Queensland Conservatorium
Underworld opens on a set that features a gown inspired by an iconic Alexander McQueen dress (Spring/Summer ‘99 no. 13 AKA the spray paint dress). I see this and the wallpaper and immediately understand the vibe of what it is I’m watching. It’s giving me 1970s London, Vivienne Westwood, smog and cigarette smoke, punk and grunge, and deep sadness. Based on my love of this aesthetic and my knowledge of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice I am excited to see where this work goes. But I find myself in a state of surprise and confusion at intermission because by the time the mid-show curtain has come down, we have reached the end the myth. Eurydice has died and her funeral has been held in an oddly long movement sequence, Orpheus has lamented his wife before being given a chance to save her by Amore, Orpheus has travelled to the underworld and dealt with infernal red tape before bringing his wife to the overworld. And most shockingly Orpheus has looked at his wife and she has been forced back down into Hades.
Confusion confirms its status as my plus one as the second act begins for the opera completely shifts in tone. The opera I am watching prior to intermission is sombre, smoggy and serious where the opera I sit down for afterward is deeply silly. And not enough work is done to reconcile this shift in tone, in my opinion.
The second act begins, and Underworld is a farce now. It is a slapstick comedy, and I don’t understand why this is the case. We open on Eurydice, who girl-bosses her way through an aria about how bored she is with her underworld prison. She is joined by a flaccid manservant who gives an aria that is admittedly the highlight of the work. Pluto arrives to check on his captive wearing a Versace-esque sweat suit (despite that deity clearly being suited to Balenciaga or Valentino) and throws himself around the stage like a stock character from the commedia dell’arte. It is not until after seeing Eurydice get caught up in a horny godly drama and attend a party that features the iconic Le Galop Infernal (aka the can-can) that we get a rushed repeat of the myth which feels emotionally redundant given we’ve seen it before. Furthermore, Orpheus doesn’t appear until the end of the act to retrieve his wife. Eurydice is released under the condition Orpheus doesn’t look at her again. He looks at her again and she is snatched back into the underworld again. Orpheus laments again and Amore rather than sending him on a third quest brings Eurydice back to life without any strings attached, an act that makes Orpheus’ entire quest seem useless.
Underworld doesn’t make sense to me until I get home and google the works that have been Frankenstein-ed together by this production. Three different operas and a film are drawn together in order to make this work happen. The characters drawn out of the 1950 film Orphée are less than elegantly integrated into the story. I would not have known who they were or where they came from without reading the programme and that is a problem given how involved they are in the events of Underworld. The Angel of Death aka The Princess is supposedly in love with Orpheus, and they share a song towards the end of the first act that left me thinking Orpheus reciprocated these feelings which the moment where the seeds of my confusion began to take root.
The two operas that are primarily drawn from here have an interesting relationship. Offenbach’s Orphée aux enfers is often regarded as a direct parody of Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice and so it is odd to see them woven together given the latter is designed to undermine the former; a task it unfortunately for the creative team still succeeds in here. Glass’ Orphée contributes to my confusion by throwing in a change to the conditions of Eurydice’s release two thirds of the way through the first act. Originally, the rule is that Orpheus must wait until his wife is returned from underworld before he can look at her, it is changed so that he may never look at her again. This shift is fine on its own, but it is not reacted to by Orpheus or Eurydice; there is no outrage at having the goalposts moved on them, there is no shock or sadness at the notion of never setting eyes on their love ever again and this took me out of the emotional world of the opera. This splicing together of different retellings in combination with the aesthetic of the first act leads me to believe the team was going for a Hadestown type of revision of the myth. If this is the case, they should have simply produced Hadestown. I am also of the opinion that simply producing one of these operas would have been a better call, that is if they refuse to employ a dramaturg.
It’s a shame this talented cohort of performers was not given a more dramaturgically cohesive work to sink their teeth into. The talent of the orchestra and the cast are the saving grace of this production, other than a couple of volume issues this budding group of conservatorium students gives a performance fairly on par with those I’ve seen (and reviewed here *wink*) from Opera Queensland. All-in-all while Underworld has much to answer for dramaturgically it is a night bubbling with the promise of a new generation of operatic stars. And if you can surrender to the experience, leave your analytic brain in the foyer it’s a more than entertaining night at the opera.
