Utzon Music | Sjaella
13 July 2025, Utzon Room, Sydney Opera House, NSW
With Sydney Harbour glittering through the Utzon Room’s glass wall and Fort Denison posing quietly in the background, the stage was perfectly set for a performance that flitted and fluttered like birdsong through centuries and cultures. Sjaella, an all-female sextet from Germany celebrating 20 years of singing together, made their Sydney Opera House debut with this program that moved effortlessly between early music, contemporary soundscapes and folk traditions – all delivered with stunning musicality and theatrical flair.
It began with a whisper of song, quite literally. The group entered already mid-flight, their birdlike whistling and vocal play emerging from within and around the audience, before coalescing onstage. This motif of birds was no gimmick. From Purcell’s Birds’ Prelude (a reworking from The Fairy Queen) to Clément Janequin’s Le Rossignol and, later, Alice Chance’s wild and wonderful Cockatoo Circus, the avian theme was lightly woven through the program. And Sjaella pulled it off with aplomb – whistling, chirping, cooing and ticking with precision, playfulness and an extraordinary sense of connection, both to each other and to the audience.
While the early works were familiar, in Sjaella’s hands they felt quite fresh. Their Purcell selections, especially the Four Seasons cycle from The Fairy Queen, were deftly reimagined: Spring was lively and bright, Summer drooped deliciously, Autumn whirled like leaves, and Winter, oh, Winter! was a revelation, with icy sopranos and a throaty alto line that sent chills down the spine. Each season had its own vocal texture and movement, the singers shifting stance and focus to embody the changing tone. Their voices carried the entire orchestral arrangement, a feat of both skill and trust in each other and the arranger.
Caroline Shaw’s Dolce cantavi was a quiet jewel in the program. Setting a 16th-century Italian text by Francesca Turina Bufalini, Shaw captured the image of a bird singing sweetly among shaded branches. The ensemble’s gaze and subtle choreography added to the effect, as if they were catching the melody mid-air and passing it between them. Harmonies unfolded slowly in micro-tones, almost imperceptibly, ending in a clarion major triad. It was a short piece, but most affecting.
Crystallized, was a standout piece by Berlin-based Armenian composer Meredi. The only piece for which scores were used, it had a wonderful rhythmic intricacy, full of clicks, cracks, ticks and drips, like ice thawing then refreezing. The sound world was percussive, precise, and utterly immersive. You could almost see the ice breaking apart, melting, reforming. Captivating.
If Crystallized was a sonic glacier, Hypophysis was pure comedic genius. Created by the ensemble in collaboration with Shara Nova, this theatrical gem gave voice (literally) to female hormones, embodied onstage as sleepy creatures waking to the call of “FSH” (follicle-stimulating hormone). From PMS to ovulation, the cycle played out in a hilarious and tender dance. Very witty, very clever, very together.
Alice Chance’s Cockatoo Circus, arranged especially for Sjaella’s tour, brought a burst of Australian irreverence. Wordplay, clicks and unmistakable cockatoo squawks were delivered with a mixture of charm and chaos, a vocal riot that felt perfectly placed in this otherwise European program.
The final section of the concert moved into folk territory, and here, too, Sjaella shone. From an Irish wedding ballad with sunlit vocal interjections, to a Breton drinking song, to a tale of a forlorn woman who listens in the wind for her long-lost lover – when, joy of joys, he returns, there is much celebration accompanied by drumming and bells. Each tune was delivered with care, respect and subtle movement that enhanced the story without ever detracting from the music. The choreography – gentle turns, slow-motion gestures, forming circles – lent a folkloric, ritualistic air that deepened the emotional impact.
Throughout, Sjaella’s direct eye contact and radiant presence made the performance feel personal and generous. Their connection to each other, forged over two decades of singing together since their teenage years, radiated outward. What we heard this afternoon wasn’t just music, but the sound of long-held trust, shared humour and deep musical curiosity from a group of terribly talented vocalists.
A signature of the Utzon Music series, a glass of bubbles on arrival set the tone – always a lovely touch. But really, it was Sjaella that made the afternoon sparkle. Let’s hope this isn’t their last migration to our shores.
Photo Credit: Cassandra Hanagan
