The other day one of my sisters got me thinking about performers who are, for one reason or another, firmly embedded in our brains for one particular role.
So here’s my list:
- John Bell simply is Cyrano de Bergerac.
- Gary Norman will always be my perfect, smouldering-eyed Spartacus.
- There is no Don Quixote but Robert Helpmann.
- Judy Davis as Hedda Gabler.
- Robyn Nevin as Lady Macbeth.
- John Howard as John Proctor in The Crucible.
- Drew Forsythe serving two masters. (Alas, I’ve been unable to find a photo, nor can I find a picture of him as Mozart in Amadeus, which comes a close second.)
- David Oistrakh (may he forgive me) is fated to be forever associated with the Khachaturian Violin Concerto. He does make this seem like much better music than it really is.
- And a little part of Beyond Twelve died with Kelvin Coe. (But not, unfortunately, my lingering impression that concert performances of Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G have the movements in the wrong order. Graeme Murphy has a lot to answer for.)