Students hit the high notes

REVIEWSDIT Conservatory Students, Gaiety Theatre

Così fan tutte

John Allen

The operas of Mozart are riddled with the kind of musical and technical difficulties that many a fully matured singer has difficulty surmounting.

For vocal students, they present a severe challenge; a challenge creditably met by the six young singers involved in the "bite-sized" version of Così fan tutte currently playing at the Gaiety's John B Bar. The production, which opened on Monday, is one of two being mounted as part of a joint venture between Opera Ireland and the DIT Conservatory of Music and Drama.

The bar itself doubles as both auditorium and setting for Dieter Kaegi's deft in-the-round staging, in which Don Alfonso and Despina become bar attendants. Reduced to 90 minutes of playing time, and with nearly all the solos eliminated, the storyline is projected by recitatives and ensembles sung in a racy modern English translation. This results in an amount of frustration. To give just one instance, after the strongly delivered build-up to what would have been Fiordiligi's avowal of steadfastness in the aria Come scoglio, the singer exits and we are straight into the next passage of recitative.

The delivery of the many recitatives is only partially successful. The two baritones and, to a lesser extent, the Despina frequently drop tone in favour of a dry speech-song. The ensembles, by contrast, are sung by all in rich full voice. And the way these young artists maintain tight discipline and balance in a variety of vocal permutations from duet to sextet, while indulging in relatively complex movements, is altogether commendable.

Overall, and bearing in mind the different stages they are at in their vocal coaching, the voices that impress most were soprano Celine Byrne, mezzo Niamh O'Hanlon and tenor Eamonn Mulhall. Mairéad Hurley is the strongly supportive piano accompanist.

Don Giovanni

DIT Conservatory Students, Gaiety Theatre

John Allen

An 80-minute version of Mozart's Don Giovanni is the second instalment of the mini-series currently running at the Gaiety Theatre in the joint venture between Opera Ireland and the DIT Conservatory of Music and Drama. As in the case of its running mate, Così fan tutte, the storyline is delineated by the use of ensembles and extended passages of recitative rather than through the arias.

This time, director Dieter Kaegi places the action in the theatre's parterre, where the singers play out the drama up and down the aisles, in the pit and the boxes, and between the seats. It's all great fun, and the audience laughs heartily, especially at the liberal use of expletives.

But it worries me that trainee opera singers are encouraged to substitute semi-spoken glibness for true singing in the dry recitatives. Vocal matters are better served in the lines normally accompanied by orchestra; and the ensemble singing is every bit as strong as it was in the Così.

All of the perfomers are dramatically convincing in their roles, but the most accomplished singing per se comes from Sinéad Campbell's polished Elvira and Eamon Mulhall's mellifluous Ottavio.

Conor Shanley is a vibrant Masetto and David Jochadze a sonorous Commendatore, although the latter loses pitch by over-forcing the tone in the final scene.

Kim Sheehan's incisive Anna and Daire Halpin's lyrical Zerlina both show good musical awareness, albeit with as yet relatively small voices. Mairéad Hurley is again a paragon of an accompanist.

Don Giovanni continues on today and Saturday at 12.30 p.m. Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Shelter

Kevin Courtney

The Strokes have started a New Wave tidal wave out of New York, and it's washing some pretty interesting flotsam up on our shores. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs formed just 18 months ago, and they've only released one EP, but they've already got the hacks frantically nodding their heads with approval. You can see why, when singer Karen O sashays onstage in ripped black tights and a strapless red dress held together with safety pins. She's the epitome of rock chic, Debbie Harry and Siouxsie Sioux meet Julian Casablancas's evil twin sister.

Beside her is boyish-looking guitarist Nick Zinner, tousled hair defying gravity, and behind them is nerdy-looking drummer Brian Chase, oozing specs appeal.

There's no bass player, but hey, The White Stripes and The Mouldy Peaches don't need bass, either, so that's cool. They open with the slow-building Our Time, Zinner's menacing, buzzsaw riffs setting the mood, Chase's stalking snare picking up the pace and Karen's ecstatic squeals ripping through the toppy sound.

As the band continues through Bang and Art Star, Karen performs with increasing abandon, pouring beer down her front and at one stage falling into the crowd. Naturally, there's no shortage of eager hands (both male and female) to catch her.

The songs are smart, stripped-down punk anthems, sometimes sounding like the B-52s after a few tequila slammers, other times coming on like early Blondie, loud and lascivious. Mystery Girl is a near-straighforward punk-pop tune, while Miles Away spins recklessly towards a car-crash ending. Oh, yeah, baby.