REVIEW: The Boor - Springboard Opera

The Boor Presented by Springboard Opera at Brisbane City Hall

Music by: Dominick Argento

Libretto by: Jon Olon-Scrymgeours

Director: Emma Nightingale

Conductor: Guillaume Lemay-Yates

Pianist: John Woods

Cast

The Widow: Luisa Tarnawski

The Servant: Liam Jackson

The Boor: Dallas Tippet

I could not think of a better way to spend a sunny Tuesday morning in Brisbane than sitting in the Lord Mayor’s City Hall Free Concert watching three opera singers verbally spar through song. Springboard Opera’s production of The Boor provided a thoroughly entertaining hour of wit, vocal fire, and theatrical charm.

Dominick Argento’s comedic opera, based on Anton Chekhov’s one-act play The Bear, is compact and fast moving. It centres on a young widow who has locked herself away in mourning for her late husband, much to the frustration of her loyal but increasingly exasperated servant. Her self-imposed exile is shattered by the arrival of an irritable neighbour demanding repayment of a debt left behind by her husband. What follows is less a polite discussion and more a glorious battle of ego, pride and stubbornness, eventually escalating into a duel and something far more unexpected...

Presented in the grandeur of City Hall, the performance felt perfectly suited to the space. The natural acoustics of the hall were wonderful. Even when a microphone malfunctioned early on, it hardly mattered because Luisa Tarnawski’s voice soared so effortlessly through the space that amplification felt unnecessary.

Tarnawski brought both vocal power and emotional volatility to the Widow. Every mention of her late husband triggered another wave of operatic lament, and she delivered these moments with rich tone and dramatic flair. Yet beneath the exaggerated grief there was always a sense that this woman was itching for life again. Her transformation over the course of the opera was both believable and very funny to watch.

Opposite her, Dallas Tippet’s Boor arrived like a thunderstorm. Blunt, smug and thoroughly unimpressed by the Widow’s dramatic mourning, he asked for his money with growing frustration, balancing comedy and bluster beautifully. His character was annoying, passionate, oddly loveable and completely convinced of his own superiority, particularly when it came to his views on women. At one point he even managed a casual vocal trill while yawning, which perfectly captured the irreverent humour of the piece.

The two launched into a fierce war of words that became the driving force of the opera. Their insults flew with gleeful abandon as they debated the eternal question of who behaves worse in relationships, men or women? What began as fury slowly softened into something closer to admiration. Their arguments were less about the debt and more about two stubborn personalities discovering they might actually understand each other.

Liam Jackson provided an excellent counterbalance as the long suffering servant. His character hovered between dutiful employee and reluctant therapist, attempting to snap his mistress out of her theatrical grief while also trying to manage the chaos unfolding in the drawing room. Vocally, his smooth legato phrases contrasted nicely with the Boor’s increasingly rapid outbursts. In the trio passages the contrast between all three voices became especially satisfying, with each character’s musical style reflecting their personality. By the end of the opera he looked thoroughly exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster, which made his final moments almost as funny as they were sympathetic.

Director Emma Nightingale kept the staging simple and effective. The set consisted of a chaise, a piano, a windowsill, a drinks table and the looming framed portrait of the Widow’s deceased husband watching over everything. It was just enough to evoke the faded grandeur of a country manor. The surtitles were clear and bright, occasionally a fraction behind the singers but never enough to disrupt the storytelling. Since the opera was sung in English, they functioned more as helpful reinforcement than a necessity, making it easy for the audience to catch every layer of humour and emotional shift.

Musically, the score moves quickly between drama and comedy. John Woods’ piano accompaniment was strong and expressive, supporting the singers without overwhelming them. Argento’s writing allowed moments of playful vocal ornamentation as well. One of the most beautiful moments arrived with the Widow and Boor duet, where the combative energy finally softened into genuine vulnerability, allowing both singers to show the warmth beneath their earlier hostility. Of course, this newfound tenderness did not arrive quietly. Their flirtation was still wrapped in insults, threats and the occasional promise to shoot one another, as any respectable operatic romance should be.

“Words and tears are worthless on a man. I’ll use a language they understand. Shoot first!” It summed up the opera’s delightfully ridiculous spirit. Yet somewhere in the middle of all the shouting, insults and threats of violence, something began to soften. The lighting eased, the characters hesitated, and suddenly the furious duel started to look suspiciously like flirting. The Boor fell in love with breathtaking speed and absolutely no self control, while the Widow pushed him away even as she begged him to stay. When she shouts “Get away from me!” it becomes increasingly clear that what she really means is “kiss me, you big brute!”

Springboard Opera’s production showcased the remarkable talent emerging from Queensland’s operatic community. With only three performers, a piano and a handful of props, the team created a performance that was witty, musically impressive and delightfully theatrical. In the world of opera, threatening to shoot each other can be a surprisingly effective first date.