As a young director with a deep desire to work in opera, there weren’t many places to turn to in Australia. There was no specialist training available at any university or conservatory (to my knowledge there still isn’t any), and when I met the hugely skilled opera director Elke Neidhardt to ask her if I should attending NIDA to take her courses, she said I had better go abroad since Australia was not yet ready to adopt the specialization I had chosen. The name she gave me to get in touch with was going to prove to be a huge influence on my life and career choices, as it was with many others.

Andrew Sinclair, who died in September, was more than just a stage director with a deep practical understanding of the art of opera; it represented the first idea I had that people from a humble background in a small corner of a former colony could make their way to the hallowed halls of theaters like London’s Covent Garden.

Born in Melbourne, Andrew was a wonderful storyteller, with stories gleaned from decades of experience with the world’s brightest opera names. Working first as a stage manager at the Royal Opera House, he returned to Australia to become Senior Director in Residence at the Australian Opera, where he both relaunched and directed new works, including an award-winning television production at the Emmy Awards Bohemian in 1989. It was, however, his tenure at Covent Garden as Director of Personnel – a post he held from 1994 until his sad departure in 2019 after a change of leadership in that theater – which he will be remembered the most from the international opera community.

My office in Covent Garden was a short walk from Andrew’s; his was facing the wall at the back of the desk so that as a young assistant I learned very quickly to judge from the hollow of his shoulders whether it was the right time to ask a thorny question about the schedule or whether it was better to leave it until the next morning. Not that Andrew was never mean – several of my greatest memories involve Andrew’s face peering over a drink at one of his favorite London haunts, the Augustus Harris coffee and wine bar (usually – and conveniently – located a few steps from his office at the Royal Opera House), where I would be gifted with strategies for difficult singers, methods of interacting with stressed and surly directors, and techniques for improving morale during times of particularly painful repetition. All of this from personal experience, all interspersed with some of the biggest names in the opera firmament, and all of it both remarkably useful and outrageously entertaining. It was often on the subway ride that I pulled out my notebook and tried to consolidate the broad conversation in a futile attempt to get it all down on paper; it sometimes seemed to me that I was like the young Plato who struggled to record everything that was heard in Socrates’ dialogues.

But what Andrew knew better than anyone I’ve worked with was the art of wake-up staging. The assistant director brings their own unique challenges, usually related to the unenviable position of the assistant director as the link between the director and the theater management. This channel of communication is vital for most of the major international houses, as it means that the production theater had a trusting eye and ear during rehearsal and can therefore be alerted to any issues in rehearsal – from the potential overhaul after a rehearsal. disastrous morning to prevention. start looking for a physiotherapist in case a singer’s shoulder tension does not improve. In addition to these loyalties, however, the assistant director also works on behalf of the production as an ambassador to other departments, perhaps negotiating extra time with the choir to complete a particularly complex choreography, or concluding a choreography. agreement with the stage direction to allow more lighting time.

The cover director also takes on these responsibilities, but also has a more important duty to run a production that strikes the right balance between fidelity to an already existing show and valuing the talents, ideas and enthusiasm of a all new distribution of interpreters. . Quite distinct from other art forms which ensure consistency by overriding individual instincts in the service of a rigorous adherence to a predetermined ‘block’, much of the power of lyrical performance lies in the fact that performers bring from elements of themselves to roles that others have inhabited, sometimes for generations.

This delicate balance means that revivals in the opera world are decidedly onerous. In my own little experience in some of the greatest opera houses in the world, I have been faced with a revival of Tosca in three days ( “By the way, you won’t have the tenor until the second day …” ), Traviata within a week ( “It’s only two casts this time around, although a third soprano will do the last performances” ), and scramble to rehearse with Plácido Domingo on the side of the stage as there was not enough time to fit the set into the rehearsal room between performances with an alternate cast. All of this Andrew could keep pace with and, despite the sometimes understandable grunts about the hardships of the job, he had a way in the rehearsal room to make sure that key moments were kept as they should be while leaving the singers the freedom to inject their own personality into the proceedings.

It was a sad day when Andrew left the Royal Opera House, a move that coincided with the downsizing of the vital department from personnel directors to a single permanent director. It was as much the loss of our connection to the roots of our art form as the loss of practical experience that led her farewell party in 2019 to be the busiest of my time at this theater.

With the passing of Andrew Sinclair and Elijah Moshinsky, we have lost two of the most capable and experienced opera directors who have ever made their home in Australia. It is fortunate that there are other Australians – trailblazers like Simon Stone and Cameron Menzies joining established names like Lindy Hume, Barrie Kosky and Gale Edwards – to fly the Australian flag abroad. And to share the benefit of their experiences with young directors who, like me with Andrew Sinclair, are eager to fill their notebooks with wisdom discovered on the way back by train.

Australian director Greg Eldridge trained in Covent Garden. He has worked in seven countries, directing productions for companies such as Opera Australia, The Icelandic Opera and The Royal Opera. He is professor of opera directing at the College-Conservatory of Music in the United States.