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On October 20, 1973, the Eighth Modern Wonder of the World was opened. Queen Elizabeth II stood in the forecourt of the Sydney Opera House and said “The human spirit must sometimes take wings or sails and create something that is not just utilitarian or commonplace.”
“I understand that its construction has not been totally without problems,” the Queen continued as she clutched skirt and speech notes to stop them blowing away in the blustery conditions. “But every great imaginative venture has had to be tempered by the fire of controversy. Controversy of the most extreme kind attended the building of the pyramids, yet they stand today — 4000 years later — acknowledged as one of the wonders of the world. So, I hope and believe it will be with the Sydney Opera House.”
Master of Ceremonies Sir Asher Joel, remembered for the bi-centenary celebrations of April-May 1970 and for choreographing (if this is theologically possible) the Pope in a mass Mass at Randwick racecourse later that year, was assisted by some 14 warships, 1000 decorated smaller boats (it was said there were so many boats, you could walk across the harbour and not get your feet wet), 60,000 gas-filled balloons, 1000 pigeons, the first squadron of F-111 swing-wing bombers (according to John Pringle “the only thing Australia has got that cost even more and took even longer than the Opera House flew past with a thunderous roar”), many miles of bunting, 1300 banners, 780 assorted flags, forests of inflatable sculptures, acres of murals, carpets of flowers, cascades of fireworks, 7500 seated guests and many thousands of standing extras.
The actor Ben Blakeney, a direct descendant of Bennelong, after whom the point was named, appeared at the apex of one of the high roof sails in welcome. ‘I hope my people will realise the importance of this building. White people may have built it, but the spirit of the Aboriginal still lives on the point’.
As early as 1960, Paul Robeson had climbed the scaffolding & sang Ol’ Man River to construction workers. On September 28, 1973, three weeks before the official opening, the Opera Hall curtain rose on Prokofiev’s War & Peace – so suitable given the battles to build it. The late Stephen Hall, founding director the Sydney Festival, used tell the story of how, as the opening drew near, he was summoned by Premier Robert Askin, who wanted to know why the new theatre was to be inaugurated with performance of “a f*****g communist opera”. In. truth, War and Peace had been chosen not just for novelty value, but, in a nicely democratic gesture, chiefly because it has a large cast of principals, thus allowed many of the hard-working members of the Australian Opera their moment on the new stage.
The Australian Opera’s musical director was Edward Downes, who the previous year had led and inspired some splendid performances of Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier and Beethoven’s Fidelio. Director Sam Wanamaker increased the chorus from 36 to 50 and there were 41 principal singers, including Eilene Hannan as Natasha, Tom McDonnell as Andrei and Raymond Myers as Napoleon. Some singers, including John Shaw and Neil Warren-Smith (“a towering performance as Kutuzov”), both of whom had been on the Australian Opera’s very first tour in 1956. The Daily Telegraph’s David Gyger considered, “It was hard not to be captivated by this War and Peace: Tom Lingwood’s designs, Sam Wanamaker’s production, Edward Downes’ conducting somehow managed to combine into a unity strangely evocative of the epic stature of the novel.”
The following night, September 29, was the first Concert Hall performance, featuring Wagner with the Sydney Symphony, the legendary Swedish soprano Birgit Nilsson, and distinguished Australian conductor Charles Mackerras. Miss Nilsson, arguably the finest Wagnerian soprano of her age, was still in good voice. Although it was almost a decade since her epochal recording with Georg Solti, the critic Ralph Moore wrote, “The showpieces from Götterdämmerung are superb; grand, spacious accounts which breathe and shimmer – although some might prefer more thrust at the start of the Immolation scene which verges on the stodgy, but it soon picks up. Nilsson here refutes the accusation that she sometimes skates over the words and inflects the text sensitively as well as unleashing that laser voice.”
The Bulletin’s Brian Hoad quipped that Miss Nilsson “will no doubt appreciate the comedy in Elisabeth’s greeting to a building from Tannhauser “Dich teure Halle”, which might well be translated as “What an expensive place”. Ralph Moore wrote:
The Sydney Symphony Orchestra plays at its considerable peak and Mackerras seems very much at home in Wagner, even if that music has not played a major part in his career. The Meistersinger overture is very attractively played but hasn’t the swagger and élan of, say, Stokowski in his famous 1972 live London performance ……the cellos sing out the “Sehnsucht” theme melodiously and Mackerras is wholly in control of the pacing. He builds those mounting waves of sound carefully and eases authoritatively into a lovely Liebestod, culminating in a ravishing ppp on “höchste Lust” from Nilsson …
Looking back on the day of the opening, one is glaringly reminded that it was the early Seventies. While the Sovereign’s choice of a silken dress of duck-egg blue and matching hat – ‘not unlike an inverted sail of the opera house” – was a classic one, The Bulletin’s Batman’s Melbourne, penned pseudonymously by the Sun News-Pictorial’s moonlighting Keith Dunstan, was struck by some politicians’ penchant for the avant garde:
Mr Jeff Bate [long-term, but recently dis-endorsed, Federal Liberal Member for Macarthur and husband of Dame Zara, widow of Prime Minister Harold Holt] “was wearing the latest in safari suits. You know the type, buttons on all the pockets, buttons all over the place … Mr Don Dunstan, premier of South Australia, was there in an all-white suit, dark blue shirt and white tie. At night he wore a white turtle-neck evening shirt with a black velvet jacket. Mr Al Grassby [Minister for Immigration] was in a vivid royal blue suit in patterned velvet and with this he wore large black velvet bow tie and a red striped shirt. Most interesting of all though was Mr [Philip] Lynch, deputy leader of the Opposition. His evening wear consisted of a red shirt. Think of the reddest shirt you ever saw and double its redness. He matched this with a large black velvet bow tie and a black velvet jacket. But it was no ordinary jacket. It had cords and loops across the front like a uniform of the Queen’s Hussars.
One cynical observer took heart in the prospect that most of the invited dignitaries would never again grace the glorious sails with their presence
The night of the opening – The Royal Gala – The Queen dutifully sat through Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony – the Sydney Symphony under Charles Mackerras. Although variously hailed as “more than any other musical work it has become an international symbol of unity and affirmation” and “the central artwork of Western music, the symphony to end all symphonies”, Dame Edna Everage claimed to have slept with Prince Philip that night – they both dozed off during the 4th movement (presumably “O Freunde”) It must have been a busy few weeks for the Dame – Edna also claimed to have slept with Prime Minister Gough Whitlam – as they both dozed off during Part II of War and Peace.
In terms of royal recognition, the ABC had no intention of sharing the Sovereign with the Australian Opera and the only Royal Performance was to be in the Concert Hall on October 20 and Her Majesty was to depart Sydney with Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” still ringing in her ears. But Diana Heath, granddaughter of the NSW’s 24th premier, Sir Thomas Bavin, and a generous benefactor and founding member of the Australian Opera’s friends council, felt that the Queen was being manoeuvred and, given the House was named for opera, that the Opera Theatre and its company should also be recognised. So Diana, who had met Prince Philip’s great friend and private secretary, Lord Rupert Nevill, at a small dinner party in Sydney early in 1973, brought this to his attention. Diana then corresponded with Lord Rupert and the Palace. The result was that The Queen decided to extend Her time in Sydney and returned on October 22 to the Opera House – this time to the Opera Theatre.
The royal performance was intended to be John Copley’s production of Mozart’s The Magic Flute so there would be two Queens of the Night that night. Along with Chesne Ryman as the stage Queen, Anson Austin played Tamino, Joan Carden was Pamina, Ronald Maconaghie was Papageno, and Donald Shanks Sarastro under the baton of the versatile Charles Mackerras, hailed as one of the finest exponents of Mozart’s operas.
But a rather last-minute switch was made and rather than the three-act Flute, Puccini’s one-act comedy, Gianni Schicchi (the last in his Triptych) was substituted and became the first opera performed for the Monarch at Bennelong Point. As brief as it was delightful, there would be no time for Dame Edna to sleep with anyone that night. In any case, that delicious aria, now one of the most popular in all opera, ‘O Mio Babbino Caro’, sung by Schicchi’s daughter, Lauretta, would awaken even the most cloth-eared VIP. The performance ended early enough to allow for a reception on HMY Britannia, moored in Farm Cove.
The sails had to wait until July 1974 for their favourite daughter, Joan Sutherland, to sing among them (in Tales of Hoffman) and she did, magnificently, for 16 years. Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic performed there a month later. When two babies began to cry during the opening movement of Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony, the “Pathétique,” and it was announced that the first movement would have to be replayed for the recording, the audience was ecstatic. There was Sammy Davis Jr in 1977; Ella Fitzgerald in 1978; Arnold Schwarzenegger crowned Mr Olympia in 1980; John Paul II appeared in 1987; and just-freed Nelson Mandela spoke of forgiveness from the steps in 1990.
Forgiveness was some time coming for the genius who conceived the House, Jørn Utzon. He was not present nor mentioned at the opening, but he was beckoned back in 1999 to redesign the Reception Hall. He never did return. In 2004, the renamed Utzon Room was opened. Fortunately, too, though much too late, the brilliant Sydney architect Peter Hall, who reluctantly undertook the nigh-impossible task of succeeding the visionary Utzon, was, in 2006, posthumously bestowed the Royal Australian Institute of Architects 25-year award in recognition of his role in completing the design.
Happy Golden Anniversary to the Sydney Opera House. May God bless her and all in her sails.
An interesting review of some of the personalities associated with this building. Opera is hardly Australia’s favourite art form. The unusual shape of the Sydney building has become a pretext for talking about opera as if it was something that really mattered in Australia. But the exterior design, while appropriate for the harbourside location, is pretrty much unrelated to the actual purpose of the structure. Evidently it appeals to a broader public, the vast majority of whom will never go inside to attend performances there.
The enormous costs of producing live concerts, especially of opera, are presumably not sustainable unless a younger demographic can be inspired to attend – and in large numbers. It is always rather depressing to attend excellent performances by top Australian classical musicians, only to find a hall full of grey heads, many of whom fall asleep in the second movement. Of course we have recordings, but nothing can match the ‘buzz’ of enjoying great music live, with an enthusiastic audience.
What a great sight -14 warships, 1000 decorated smaller boats 60,000 gas-filled balloons, a squadron of F-111s, miles of bunting, 1300 banners, 780 assorted flags, forests of inflatable sculptures, acres of murals, carpets of flowers, cascades of fireworks.
But imagine the “carbon footprint” and the meltdown of the nutters if anything remotely like that was proposed today!
I dare say it’d be a case of carbon neutral comedy.
>” … Ella Fitzgerald in 1978 …”<
And Oscar Peterson/Joe Pass at the Opera House (1979, I think).
There was also a WW2 air defence searchlight that was found in deep storage and brought ‘into action’ nightly. The necessary ‘drill’ pamphlet was found, after much searching, in the archives of the School of Artillery Library.
Some of the 14 warships were from other countries. As they entered Sydney Harbour in the days preceding the opening each fired a ceremonial gun salute. The salutes were returned from North Head by a Saluting Battery formed from School of Artillery guns and gunners.
The most memorable ship, much appreciated by the many cliff-top spectators, was the Japanese one. She sailed so close to North Head that her sailors could be seen easily and her ‘fire orders’ heard clearly.
Sorry to be a wet blanket in the general euphoria, but State lotteries financed much of the construction costs. How many lives and businesses were and are being ruined through gambling? How many broken marriages and families? How many suicides? Unless you believe that the end justifies the means, the Opera House should be acknowledged and lamented as a factor in the social catastrophe that is the gambling industry.
Yairs Andrew but life is a complete gamble mate and filled with vicissitudes one being that I got really close (about two foot six inches away) from that giant among men, one Robert James Lee Hawke just outside the Opera House in 1989. Mind you, he was cowering in the foetal position in the foot well of the back seat of a govt. Limo that proceeded to proceed through a line of we airline pilots (bus drivers as I recall Bob calling us) and a banner I was holding got tangled in the radio antenna of the vehicle and bent it over. As I untangled the banner I spotted Bob relaxing in the footwell as it were. One of the gambles of life illustrated Andrew, a close encounter with our P.M. and a joy to remember ever after, a joy that would never have happened except for the Lottery funded opera house.
Imagine the ” joy to remember ever after” of whoever won the $UD1.78 BILLION Powerball last Wednesday. Heck I even had joy pondering a mate’s question as to what I would do if I won (book a hotel, dinner, drinks and a bed for 20-30 close mates, and a $1million cheque for each to help them get over their hangover in the morning was my reply).
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The only certainty about a lottery is that if you don’t have a ticket, you won’t win..
Here’s another certainty: if you don’t have a ticket you won’t lose. And considering the multitude of losses necessary for the huge win, it’s a rather selfish way of getting rich on the production of nothing useful.
I can vouch for what Botswana has said here – because I was there too! I had the job of carrying the loudhailer, so that Mr Hawke could fully hear what a much put-upon echelon of ordinary Aussie families really thought of him.
Over decades, Hawke had risen to political power on the back of his posturing as ‘The Great Australian Conciliator’ in industrial disputes. But when the time came, Hawke chose to act for his millionaire mate Abeles, who together with Rupert, wanted the pilots crushed – not conciliated. Years of double-digit inflation had left the pilots with rapidly declining standards of living. The phoney industrial court system had effectively been suborned by the power clique that ran the ACTU and had become a proxy to implement the ACTU leadership’s inherent class-hatreds.
During the height of that dispute (1989-1990), some genuine Aussie person who worked in the bowels of the PMs Dept would feed tip-offs to the pilots about Hawke’s movements. We normally got about six hours warning – so a flying squad of unemployed pilots, together with their wives & children, would quickly assemble at the required location to inform Mr Hawke what they really thought of him. That was the case on the day of his Opera House visit.
I had never appreciated before that awful year that politician’s ‘photo-op’ visitations to such places were totally contrived theatrical pieces. Normally the only attendees were the prearranged media goons, the politician, and his/her minders. The public was never supposed to be present. That is why Hawke got such a shock and quickly became discombobulated. It was obvious that he had never before been confronted by angry groups of ordinary Australians – especially women & children. He didn’t know how to handle it – he began to freak out. His minders quickly pushed him into the back seat of his Commonwealth car and departed.
What surprised me on that fateful day was how small in stature Hawke really was. Bob Hawke was the archetypical ‘Small Man’. The lying corporate media had never presented him that way in his reality. Looking back now I realise that Bob Hawke was a media construct. A fake! Just the same as Albo – yet another embarrassing fake who is presented to us as some sort of empathetic Eminence Gris.
Despite the reality of Hawke – both the lying corporate media and the faithful of the Left still elevated him to the Pantheon of Labor Gods – a place Hawke didn’t belong, because in 1989 he betrayed the fundamental principles of the labour movement in order to serve the interests of his millionaire ‘mates’ – by refusing to conciliate. The consequence was that the majority of Australia’s airline pilots ended up being forced to leave the country to find work, and Australia lost the internationally admired pool of aviation expertise that it had inherited from the generation of WW2.
You will never hear something like this in the corporate media – or those masters of deceit – the ABC!
tenk yu tru lapun. I have been saving up a bottle of modified Laphroaig Single Malt to place on the great mans grave if I can ever discover it’s whereabouts.
How many are employed in the gambling industry? How much tax is paid via PoC and turnover taxes? How many sportsmen & women can be full-time, even wealthy, because of payments for TV/radio rights to their governing bodies?
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Duncan Spender: Liberal Democrats 2019 Alternative Budget:
Gambling taxes should also be abolished. Most gamblers are not problem gamblers and their pastime should not be taxed more than anyone else’s pastime.
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Phill Bull:
“It is an arrogant impertinence for the socially fortunate, better educated, wealthier, more cultured members of society to look down on those less endowed, think them unworthy on that account, and presume to tell them what they should or should not enjoy”
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Even one successful punter (and there are quite a lot) earning money is one more than earns money going to a movie or the football or enjoying a pint of beer.
There is very much more to life than a bank account.
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Don Scott: .
The life of punting was for me an escape from the pressure of a conformist society. As a punter I was free and independent. In a free society everyone should be free to spend their time as they please. For many ordinary people who work in drab surroundings and perform routine and uncongenial tasks, gambling offers the chance to make decisions, to give oneself identity, to boost the ego, and prove oneself a keen judge.
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The 1978 British Royal Commission on Gambling:
“The objection that punters are wasting their time is a moral, or possibly an aesthetic, judgement. Punters have chosen to enjoy themselves in their own way and we think that in a free society it would be wrong to prevent them from doing so merely because others think they would be better employed in digging the garden, reading to the children or playing healthy outdoor sport”.
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George Bernard Shaw:
“Gambling promises the poor what property performs for the rich”. Our family moved out of a Housing Trust rental into our own home courtesy of my father winning enough with one English Football Pools result to buy it freehold.
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My last Aunt died this month at 102, betting her $1 each way until the last 2 months – gambling made her life worth living after her husband passed away 16 years ago she said.
LBLoveday:
The greatest pleasure in life is to win.
“How many sportsmen & women can be full-time, even wealthy, because of payments for TV/radio rights to their governing bodies?”
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Left out “Payments that are enhanced because of the gambling companies’ advertising.
Thank you lbloveday for those quotes. I could see in my mind the two bob millionaires (for the day), at Flemington or Caulfield.
Glad you liked them. Here’s another from Phil Bull, described by Australia’s best known bookmaker as “a great quote from a great man”:
“Gambling is clearly enjoyed as as an entertainment and a relaxation, and one is entitled to take one’s entertainment in whatever form it pleases one”.
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I’ve twice spent Melbourne Cup day in the Flemington Birdcage – a place of
“unbridled joy” during the Melbourne Cup Carnival, renowned as the world’s most lavish temporary facility with remarkable bespoke buildings offering unparalleled levels of design, sophistication, catering and entertainment.
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Maybe the killjoy should duck into his local pub on Nov 7, from midday on and see the joy therein.
And the sorrow of loss.
In the passage cited below we seem to have wandered without warning from Meistersaenger to Tristan und Isolde. Every Quadrant reader should know the difference:
The Sydney Symphony Orchestra plays at its considerable peak and Mackerras seems very much at home in Wagner, even if that music has not played a major part in his career. The Meistersinger overture is very attractively played but hasn’t the swagger and élan of, say, Stokowski in his famous 1972 live London performance ……the cellos sing out the “Sehnsucht” theme melodiously and Mackerras is wholly in control of the pacing. He builds those mounting waves of sound carefully and eases authoritatively into a lovely Liebestod, culminating in a ravishing ppp on “höchste Lust” from Nilsson …
It would never be built now. Opera? Elitist, classist, patriarchal, colonialist, Eurocentric, totally irrelevant to Australian culture. Roots in oppression and connections to slavery. A white triumphalist structure on bennelong point, totally unacceptable. And the music is dead, got no beat.
I’ve been to several plays at the Opera House, as a result of accepting my brother’s advice to purchase a season ticket to the Old Tote after my wife and I had returned in 1973 from a couple of years overseas. Our main memories are of the excruciatingly uncomfortable seats. Never again. Many years ago in myne idyll youf, the Elizabethan Theatre Trust used to sponsor groups of young actors to tour NSW country towns to perform whatever Shakespeare play had been set for the Leaving Certificate examination in any given year. The performances were billed as Shakespeare in Jeans, and the costumes consisted essentially of just exactly that with maybe a few bed sheets for togas. Scenery, if any, was minimal.
I finally realised the excellent quality of the performances put on by those kids after watching an Old Tote presentation of Macbeth at the Opera House by a well-known professional company that still presents Shakespeare plays. The kids in jeans and almost bare stages were spell-binding; the pros just plain boring with tricky and entirely anachronistic costumes and outrageous props. Sensible performers don’t try to rewrite Shakespeare.
No mention in any Birthday coverage of the creative engineering and construct by Hornibrook of Queensland