The opening chords of Tosca may be unmatched in opera, their deep-reaching drama paralleled in penetration of the heart only by their total opposite, those ephemeral, fragile opening shimmers of La traviata. The chiaroscuro of dark evil and sweet innocence in juxtaposing bars, the glory of fervent choral ascendance and climax, concurrent with narcissistic and sadistic cruelty… Truly this is opera to die for, as none of the main characters survive.

Set over one day in Rome, the two-hour distillation of love, lust, jealousy, torture and sacrifice relies heavily upon its three protagonists. Foremost are the formidable talents of Orla Boylan and Simon O’Neill, reprising their roles as diva Floria Tosca and painter revolutionary Mario Cavaradossi; they alone practically guarantee the strength of this perceptive production. One of New Zealand Opera’s most inspired pairings, they continue a line that includes Maria Callas, Leontyne Price, Placido Domingo and José Carreras. 

However, for me there are four further litmus tests for this season to match the very high artistic standards set by the NZ Opera company’s 2015 debut staging in Wellington and Auckland. One of these is the pivotal driver of the plot, the villainous chief of police, Baron Scarpia: would the other protagonist Teddy Tahu Rhodes overlay his cavernous resonance and striking physical presence in this role with a truly chillingly evil, credible persona of his own invention? 

Obviously critical would be the off-stage execution – that of the orchestral score. At the St James, the NZSO had excelled with their experience and musicianship, fully fleshing out Puccini’s demanding score, while in Auckland the APO outperformed their resources to deliver a similarly satisfying, rich flow of sublime music. Would the CSO rise to the occasion, as they have shown they can in previous NZO Christchurch seasons?  Would maestro Marco Guidarini elicit a comparable, balanced and immersive orchestral experience, as brought to us by the note-by-note memory of previous conductor Tobias Ringborg?

Would the wide and towering set from the Auckland Aotea Centre staging compact into the Isaac Theatre Royal with no more dilution of impact than it had in the St James?  Finally, what would the cast changes bring overall to the impressive, original Stuart Maunder production?

Even before curtain-up, the composition of the Freemasons’ Christchurch chorus under Sharolyn Kimmorley is auspicious; many are well progressed into their own vocal and stage careers. So, as autumn’s frosty breath gilds the magical, purple flood-lit Isaac Theatre Royal with greetings card romance, a glissando of opening anticipation precedes the lifting of the red velvet curtain for a two-hour plunge into this world of excess, to be heralded by those stentorian, Scarpian chords.

Unfortunately we are seated under the circle overhang where the theatre rebuild has levelled off the rake, making for a game of bobbing heads to see the action, and dulling the sound – or at least that is my guess at the lack of sonority in those three opening chords.

One of my litmus papers was threatening to turn the wrong colour, and the seeming lack of urgency from the orchestra added to my concern, however maestro Guidarini drew the CSO into a warmer space and by the time we reached the Te Deum of Act One they were purring. At this point I must applaud Robert Tucker, whose effortless fluidity as the Sacristan is a lovely start to the evening’s vocal treats.

The first meal-sized serving of these is Simon O’Neill’s easy and mellifluous Recondita armonia (Subtle harmony) where Cavaradossi unwisely blends the beauty of two women into his painting of the Madonna. Ashburton’s favourite son is in top form. Abetted by the acoustics of the theatre and the sound shell of Jan Ubels’ judicious, simple but effective set, O’Neill’s divinely open-throated voice seems to descend from the gods. It seems like ventriloquism as he flows from note to soaring note with almost disembodied ease.

Orla Boylan’s manifestation as Tosca introduces the rich sense of style with which designer Elizabeth Whiting has imbued the production. Her red millinery creation is more than jaunty, its impossible angle defining a diva who will be noticed, her flowing red coat attracting Scarpia like a matador’s cloak to a bull. Under this beats the brave heart that will be the police chief’s dramatic downfall. Orla Boylan flames one moment and flirts the next, so sure, so nuanced, so irresistible, as she gifts to us once again a role-defining Tosca.

Boylan claims her place absolutely in the second act as she is menaced by the giant shadows of Scarpia created through Jason Morphett’s slick and sharp lighting design, giving us one of musical theatres’ most moving experiences with her Vissi d’arte (I have lived for art).  In the same scene, Puccini has given Cavaradossi a vocal showcase in the anthemic Vittoria! (Victory!) and Simon O’Neill takes full advantage to display his power, perhaps a little indulgently. He is more restrained when it comes to the silken E lucevan le stelle near the end of the final act, as he writes his farewell letter to his Tosca, reflecting on the stars, the sweet memories and the despair of his position.

The essence of this production’s ingress to our hearts is the tangible, breathable relationship that Boylan and O’Neill invest and evince in their roles – the eye contact, skin contact, affection and devotion that to great music brings great acting. It is powerful and palpable, believable and heart-wrenching. It is what makes this a most cleverly cast and indelible opera.

The third protagonist is Scarpia. Teddy Tahu Rhodes takes over the role inaugurated by Phillip Rhodes, bringing a more traditional, brutal bad guy to life. Vocally he is substantially different, with less smoothness and more grit, giving us a more psychopathic portrayal of the sadistic torturer. With a touch of Hannibal Lecter he is more physically threatening than his predecessor in the role, the flash of a smile while seated at his dinner table adding counterintuitively to the chill. Different Rhodes but both leading to Rome with aplomb.

The care with which Puccini re-created the Roman soundscape is thwarted in this venue. Act Three opens with a shepherd boy singing in dialect with purity and a peel to match the morning bells (beautifully sung by a crystalline young Jayden Walker). I’ve awoken in Rome on a Sunday morning hearing every tintinnabulation that Puccini has woven into this ringing tone poem and it still haunts me. The 3D effect achieved in Wellington especially by placing a bell ringer in the auditorium and the boy in a box is disappointingly missed (at least from my perspective).

The squeeze of the set onto the Isaac Theatre Royal’s stage, which at 10.45m is even narrower than the St James, regrettably leaves the cast little room to roam, notable especially in the Te Deum, and given the moderate pace set by the conductor this makes the show a little less kinetic, but sees the stage space well populated and effectively utilised.

The complex Italian political climate of the Cold War period has given the miss-nothing director plenty of scope to show the sham of church and state. His Scarpia shares holy water with Tosca, from a gloved hand; she finishes him off with a symbol of the church. Spoletta the assassin, beautifully reprised by James Benjamin Rodgers, crosses himself despite committing murder.

By now it is no secret that this Tosca completes her performance with a real leap from the guard tower – no trickery or stunt double, but Orla Boylan’s determination to live her character through to the end. Having stood at the actual walls of Castel Sant’Angelo, the altitude of which is echoed in the set design, I can easily imagine the reality. Fortunately the training of stunt master Dayna Grant ensures that Boylan will be back for the rest of this short season. 

Canterbury has the operatic chance of a lifetime in this standard-setting production of outgoing NZ Opera general director Stuart Maunder. In his hands, what the late Professor Joseph Kerman called “a shabby little shocker” in his 1952 book Opera as Drama, has grown into a deeply engaging, no holds barred, utterly irresistible musical thriller that for this reviewer has become addictive.

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