The word closets has come to have many associations, but when put together with Dimity Shepherd, a wardrobe of fabulous frocks immediately springs to mind – even more so in the context of opera. Indeed, the stage of fortyfivedownstairs was decorated with quite an array of frocks – flounced and frilled, vibrant and glittering. Not quite the up-up-market Linda Britten creations that Shepherd sometimes wears with such panache, delighting spectators, but ones colourful and idiosyncratic enough to reflect aspects of her personality and the roles she has played.
Closet or wardrobe also suggests the place where theatrical costumes are kept, and even the storybook Narnia, which children accessed via the back of a wardrobe – an image that Shepherd used quite specifically. Nowadays, closet immediately conjures up things hidden, often, but always, sexual preference. In “Opera Closets” the audience was led through the back of the wardrobe to some of the most intimate aspects of Dimity Shepherd’s life. A diverse range of music, as arresting and sometimes as surprising as the clothes, accompanied a journey through this passageway to a “magical land”.
Most audience members would have known that this autobiographical musical tale had a happy ending, and were reminded of that fact when Shepherd’s partner, Richard Piper, introduced the show that he and Shepherd had developed together and he directed. An outstanding actor in his own right, he set a tone of excited expectation as he told us that he now had the opportunity to say something he had always wanted to say, “Sound, light … Go!” And so the story began with schoolgirl Dimity bouncing on dressed in sparkling pink tights and a t-shirt proclaiming “Poetic Justice”, only to be assailed by a loudspeaker announcement (Piper as School Principal) telling her not to come to school dressed in “ridiculous clothes” and “don’t come back until you’re normal”.
Sitting on her bed, “abnormal” Dimity described growing up in what felt like a nightmare of threats – sound effects of roaring planes carrying possible bombs – and trying to protect herself with obsessive superstitious rituals and an armour of eccentric clothes. Typical teenage self-consciousness and self-doubt were presented with an honesty that was both humorous and touching. When speaking about piano lessons, she moved to the piano and, as she played, was smoothly replaced by Phillipa Safey – a musician with whom Shepherd has shared a long musical connection.
The 14 listed musical numbers, which began with Daryl Wallis’ Big Sky Town, were mainly composed by Helen Mountford and Wallis, the latter collaborating with Shepherd, who wrote the lyrics. Mountford’s attractively atmospheric compositions often served as musical breaks while Shepherd completed her many costume changes – no mean feat as these involved negotiating awkward body mic connections without mishap. This she managed efficiently and gracefully in full view of the audience, stripping down to black bra and pants and making the audience to wonder why on earth she had ever had a problem with body image. Sometimes the changes were more leisurely affairs behind the clothes racks while the focus was on the piano trio.
Considering that violinist, Helen Bower, was a last minute replacement for a back pain-stricken Hope Csutoros, the playing of the diverse range of music was surprisingly confident and polished. Cellist, Michelle John, provided a warm, full-bodied tone, always pleasing but especially so in Mountford’s Mr Sean Goes Courting. Sporting a black corset and a long, tiered skirt, Shepherd was a knockout as she sang Arthur Hamilton’s “He Needs Me” into a standing mic, inserting all the sultry embellishments of the best jazz singers; it was one of the Wow! moments of the show.
Clothed in an elaborate bridal gown, Shepherd revealed the darkness and vertiginous confusion of an emotionally painful marriage to poignant effect. Part of the transition to find a way out of a disastrous situation came with opera, and we heard excerpts from the many mezzo-soprano roles Shepherd has played, all involving lightning-speed costume changes; she became Cherubino, Alcino’s Ruggiero, Carmen and, finally, Delilah. Not that she possesses the emasculating qualities of the last-named siren, but she was learning to fight back. Boots, a flamboyantly wielded shawl, a sexy dress – Dimity Shepherd becoming empowered, even if it was taking a while.
In her determination to take control of her life, she owned the accusations so often thrown at women. These were given dramatic emphasis in a clever piece of theatre as a succession of cardboard signs featuring words such as “Feisty”, “Nag”, “Bossy”, “Moody” “Emotional” and (of course) “Hysterical” were flung around in exhilarating abandon.
Following a passionate (definitely not hysterical) performance of Verdi’s “O Don Fatale” (Oh fatal gift) with more fabulous top notes – no mic needed for the arias – a gentler mood of happiness and fulfillment was apparent in the final song, It Just Is, with lyrics by Shepherd, and music by Shepherd and Wallis.
What a journey! Few would have known of the challenges Dimity Shepherd has faced as she forged a highly successful career in opera and became known as an ebullient, joyous performer, who knew how to “rock a frock” like no one else. We were all left with a deeper understanding of how this exceptional artist has evolved and even greater admiration for her astounding versatility, performance skills, courage and heart.
Image supplied.
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Heather Leviston attended “Opera Closets”, presented as part of the fortyfivedownstairs Chamber Music Festiva,l at fortyfivedownstairs on May 13, 2025.
