A week ago, on the stage of the Joan Sutherland Theatre, a desperate tenor killed his soprano lover in a blind, frustrated fury. This week the tenor hero is killed – if that is the right way to characterise it – by the soprano who loves him, but a different complex of emotions accompanies this operatic death as he dies blessing her.

The quarter century between the première of Georges Bizet’s Carmen (1875) and Antonin Dvořák’s Rusalka (1901) saw perhaps the most extensive developments in the history of opera. Richard Wagner’s magisterial Der Ring des Nibelungen premièred a year later in 1876 in Bayreuth; opera would never be the same again, and Wagner’s influence would impact the broader culture in Europe and beyond unlike that of any musician before or since. Giuseppe Verdi in Italy was reaching his productive final years, culminating in his great Shakespearean works, Otello (1887) and Falstaff (1893).

By 1900, one composer whose works would dominate the next twenty-five years or more had already enjoyed remarkable success. Giacomo Puccini had taken Italy and the world by storm with three highly successful operas before the turn of the century: Manon Lescaut (1893), La Bohème (1896), and Tosca (1900).

His success would be matched a few years later by Richard Strauss, who had premièred the unsuccessful Guntram (1894), followed by the failure of Feursnot (1901). However, the blockbusters were on the horizon: Salome (1905) and Elektra (1909), two works which nudged operatic music in a new and sometimes frightening direction, flirting with the atonality which would dominate much of the twentieth century. Strauss himself would pull back from the abyss with his comedy Der Rosenkavalier (1911), and leave it to Arnold Schönberg and, particularly, Alban Berg’s two masterpieces, Wozzeck (1925) and Lulu (1937), to profoundly influence later twentieth-century opera.

This was the operatic world in which Czech Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904) wished to make his mark as an opera composer. In an interview three weeks before the première of his final opera Armida (1904), Dvořák maintained that his ‘main inclination was towards dramatic composition’ and not the symphonic and other music which had built the foundation of his great fame and popularity as a composer. His first opera, Alfred, was premièred in 1870, and he became the most popular Czech opera composer after Bedřich Smetana (1824-84) in the late nineteenth century, completing ten operas.

This was the period when the idea of a national opera was burgeoning in many European countries Dvořák observing that he ‘considered opera to be the most suitable form for the nation’. He argued that ‘[n]ational music is not created out of nothing. It is discovered and clothed in new beauty, just as the myths and the legends of a people are brought to light and crystallized in undying verse by the master poets.’

Unlike Smetana and other lesser-known contemporaries, Dvořák would draw on wider sources than Czech history and mythology; many of his operas did not fit comfortably within a Czech tradition. However, several of his operas were very successful in his native land and Rusalka, together with Smetana’s The Bartered Bride (1866), were for many years the two most popular Czech operas. Their popularity has subsequently been superseded by the great works of Leoš Janáček (1854-1928), now central to the operatic repertoire.

Dvořák learned much about opera from his nine-year period as a viola player in the orchestra of the Provisional Theatre in Prague where a wide variety of scores – primarily Italian, French, and German – were performed. Dvořák’s output of grand and comic operas reflects this influence. Though Wagner was not part of the theatre’s repertoire, the German composer’s harmonic language and other aspects of style were central to Dvořák’s development as a composer. Rusalka is the work that most closely draws on Wagner, particularly the extensive use of leitmotif, but elements of number opera remain; this is not pure Wagnerian music drama.

Dvořák used librettist Jaroslav Kvapil’s (1868-1950) reworking of Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s Undine (1811), Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid (1837), and Gerhardt Hauptmann’s The Sunken Bell (1896), setting Rusalka in the woodlands of Bohemia. The characters of the original were transformed into Czech folkloric archetypes which were well known from the ballads of Karel Jaromir Erben (1811-1870), whose work Dvořák had absorbed. He commenced work on the opera in April 1900, completing it in November the same year. It was a triumph at its première in Prague in 1901 and has never been out of the repertoire.

The three main character groupings are expertly characterised. The comic ones: the Gamekeeper and the Kitchen-Boy, in rapid-fire, urgent music set the scene for the dramatic encounters in Act Two as well as the tension of Act Three. The Water King and Ježibaba are richly drawn through evocative and, at times, exquisitely beautiful music, creating convincing characters. Central, of course, are the Duchess, the Prince, and Rusalka herself. Of the many great musical moments one of the highlights is the way Dvořák orchestrally conveys the Prince and Rusalka’s relationship in Act Two where, because of her enforced silence, a duet between them is not possible. Undoubtedly the most familiar and beloved moment of the opera is ‘Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém’ (Rusalka’s ‘Song to the Moon’) which is frequently sung in concert and recital, but she has several other solo moments of equal intensity and beauty.

This is the first Rusalka by Opera Australia since the outstanding 2007 production conducted by Richard Hickox and directed by Olivia Fuchs, fondly remembered by many, particularly with Cheryl Barker as an outstanding Rusalka; it won the Helpman Best Opera Award. It is nearly twenty years ago, but I would maintain that this new version is at the very least the equal of its illustrious forerunner. Directed by Sarah Giles, sets are by Charles Davis, costumes are by Renée Mulder and lighting is by Paul Jackson. The opera takes us into the watery world of Rusalka, unlike many recent productions which have not had a drop of water to be seen. With David Bergman’s immersive video designs, Act One has the figures appearing to swim in a mossy pond with shimmering strands of vegetation from a roof of lily pads, creating a magical vision.

Act Two takes place in the Prince’s palace, as represented by colonnades and steps, while the third act returns to the pond. Mulder’s costumes are evocative; the water creatures have glistening white gowns with white faces and black-lined eyes, while the Wood Sprites’s costumes suggest trees with comically long arms. The dazzling costumes and effective use of silhouettes are a visual feast and greatly enhance the operatic experience, while Giles utilises all available multidimensional stage space for character groupings and action allied to fluid movement direction by Lyndall Grant. Giles brings welcome humour into what is ultimately a tragic story. All the elements that constitute this most complex of performance art forms are on triumphant display in this production with its excellent all Australian cast.

Nicole Car as Rusalka (courtesy of Opera Australia)

The lirico spinto soprano Nicole Car has built a stellar international career, performing major roles in most of the world’s great opera houses; much was expected of this role début. She brings an alluring stage presence together with her magnificent creamy, yet finely focused, powerful voice and great musicality, creating a rounded character who is searching for her own identity in a hostile world. This is much more than an unreal fairytale figure, but a complex young woman almost literally trying to find her feet in the threatening human world of Act Two. Giles views Rusalka as a ‘brave creature’ looking for somewhere where she could belong; she is not a ‘mute, silenced, passive, lovesick nymph’. There is a most affecting moment as she struggles in high heels in the human clothes she is forced to wear, humour and pathos intertwined. The many physical demands of the role held no terrors for Car. Rusalka’s music suited her voice to perfection, and it is hard to imagine a more complete performance than this.

There was excellent singing from a strong cast. Ashlyn Tymms gave a delightful performance of Ježibaba, the likeable wicked witch, with a rich mezzo used to great comic effect, exhibiting spectacular costumes. Natalie Aroyan added to her growing achievements with Opera Australia, employing her warm soprano and commanding stage presence to create a believable and powerful Duchess. 

Young tenor Gerard Schneider has enjoyed success overseas and his voice has developed into attractive lyric tenor. The grateful role of the Prince provides ample opportunity to display a wide range of colours. Occasionally he sounded a little strained in the upper register; the voice does not yet possess the sheer vocal heft for some of the extended, high-lying moments of this challenging role.

Warwick Fyfe has sung a wide range of roles in Australia, most memorably perhaps in Wagner. The Water King fits his voice like a glove and his rich, burnished bass-baritone did full justice to the role which has some of the most beautiful music of all. His extended scene with Car in Act Two was most moving with perhaps the finest singing of the night. These two voices soared magnificently over Dvořák’s at-times heavy, quasi-Wagnerian orchestration.

The three Wood Sprites were sung and performed with great energy and fine tone by Fiona Jopson, Jennifer Bonner, and Helen Sherman. Andrew Moran was a grouchy and sonorous Game Keeper, while Sian Sharp a querulous Kitchen-Boy, both roles distinguished by excellent singing and acting. The Huntsman, Malcolm Ede, brought charm and an attractive baritone to the role.

One of Australia’s finest and most experienced opera conductors, Johannes Fritzsch, highlighted the beauty and musical depth in Dvořák’s wonderful score with supple and expressive playing from the orchestra. He is, and has always been, a ‘singer’s conductor’, with excellent communication between pit and stage. As usual, the Opera Australia chorus provided sumptuous sound and much varied characterization in their scenes.

With two excellent opera premières in Sydney within a week of each other, the portents are promising for the future of the company. After a couple of rocky years featuring several less than stellar productions, the seemingly assured success of Carmen and Rusalka suggests that Opera Australia is on the right path, with the luminous performance of Nicole Car leading the way, providing an experience that will linger long in the memory.

Rusalka (Opera Australia) continues until 11 August 2025. Performance attended: 19 July.