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FashionMusicArtCulture

Oleum and the Reimagining of Opera

10 April 2025

Commissioned by the Sydney Opera House, the short film, Oleum – A Sydney Opera, reimagines opera through an audio-visual lens. In a clear-defined three act structure, the film marries electronic and traditional operatic motifs to present an inherently modern perspective to the discpline. The film cultivates a mis-en-scene that is mysterious and ethereal, transforming the streets of Sydney into a site of suspense, pathos and otherworldliness. The inner worlds of the characters, played by Maina Doe and Kevin Stathis of Sahdy Nasty, are mirrored against the surrealist backdrops of a carshop and diner. We interviewed the artists involved in the film’s conception, asking about how their individual roles, and the collaborative process between them, played an integral part in the process of bringing the essence of opera to new audiences and capturing Sydney in a new light. – Aaron Weinberg

RACHEL WEINBERG Thank you all for being here, and thank you to Tanya for sharing the film and bringing it to our attention. Since we’ve got a big group, I thought it’d be nice to start by going around and introducing ourselves. If you could share your name, your role in the film, and what you do more broadly, that would be great. Jason, would you like to kick us off?

JASON SUKADANA Tanya and I work together as a directing duo. For this film, we wore a few hats. We directed it under the Versus, which is the banner we use for all of our directing work. We also run a creative studio called Subversus, and maybe Tanya can speak a bit more about that.

TANYA BABIĆ Under the Subversus umbrella, we are responsible for the creative development of the film. It was originally commissioned with the brief to come up with a bold new concept for Sydney Opera House Cinema, and that’s how Oleum came to life. Our first step was to bring in some of our favourite artists to collaborate with, which feels like the perfect segue to introduce the incredible people here today.

DAN TSE AND EUGENE LEUNG Yes, we were responsible for the costume design and styling for the film. We also run a brand called Injury. Tanya and Jason reached out to us and shared their amazing concept for a contemporary opera film. We were intrigued by the idea and excited to come on board to work on the costume and styling.

CORIN ILETO I’m an electronic music producer and composer based in Eora. For the film, I composed the soundtrack and collaborated with Maina on the final song that plays at the end. I’ve worked with Tanya and Jason on a few projects before, so it was really special to be part of this one, which felt particularly meaningful for them.

MAINA DOE I’m an artist and musician based on Eora Country. I previously worked with the Versus team on the Liminal series, which was filmed during the COVID period for the Opera House. So when they reached out about this project, I was immediately on board and really invested from the start. In the film, I perform as an actor and also co-wrote and performed the song with Corinthat’s featured in the soundtrack.

RW My first question is mainly for Corin and Maina. Olium reimagines opera for the screen while still honouring its traditional form. I’d love to hear how you both approached translating the auditory language of opera—a very classical and structured form—into something that resonates with contemporary audiences.

CI It was an interesting process to compose for this project. I was initially briefed to create the score for the entire film, but then Tanya and Jason came up with a really exciting idea: to incorporate a song into the final scene of the 10-minute piece, with Maina, who also acts in the film, performing it. So, Maina and I got into a room together for the first time, and we were given a few prompts around reimagining opera for a modern audience. But it wasn’t really about performing opera in a traditional sense. It was more about imagining what opera could be today and using our own voices and languages to create something new. I was really excited to work with Maina because she’s such a talented vocalist and writes her own lyrics. She came up with this beautiful phrase that she repeats throughout the song—it really brought everything together.

MD When Corin and I first started working on the main track for the film, we began by looking into the traditional structure of opera, what it is and how it functions. We then thought about how we could subvert that. We explored what opera might sound like from an electronic perspective, incorporating elements that are dramatic and poignant. For me, the drama was a big focus, especially in the melodies and lyrics. Given the tone of the film, we both leant into something quite simple, but also moody. That moodiness really carried the piece. Corinne’s electronic composition laid a strong foundation. It had this contemporary feel while still holding space for something emotional and expressive. That made it really easy for me to create a melody that felt modern but was still melodramatic.

CI Yeah, exactly. I think it also stands out because it’s the only moment in the film where we actually hear her voice. After watching the whole piece, those final three minutes really needed to land and feel dramatic. Jason and Tanya had this idea of starting the song as a whisper, something soft and almost internal, which then gradually builds into a full track. It mirrors the transformation of her character, almost like she’s becoming something else entirely. The main lyric, "Find Me," ties into the central narrative of Maina’s character crossing paths with Kevin’s, but never quite connecting. There’s this feeling of missed connection, and her voice becomes this emotional release, like she’s singing her soul out to the world. I wanted to take that vocal and heighten it, adding synths and effects to push it into a more sci-fi soundscape. Something dramatic and emotional, but also slightly otherworldly.

MD The sci-fi electronic aspect of the music we composed acted as a kind of bridge between the traditional opera elements and something more contemporary. It was really exciting to play with the rises and falls of the track and explore the dynamics within such a simple structure. The formula was straightforward, but I think that’s what made it so effective.

RW Collaboration is clearly central to this project. We’re all here together, and it’s really special that the on-set crew can speak to the work as a whole, and as a collective effort. I wanted to ask about the experience of working across so many disciplines on set. You’ve got fashion playing a major role—the costumes, especially the white long gown. Then there’s the music, the cinematography, the set design—all these distinct elements coming together. How did that collaborative process unfold? What came first, and how did the other elements build around it?

TB I’m sure everyone has something to add to this, but in terms of how the collaboration evolved—the intention from the very beginning was to create a total work of art. There wasn’t really a hierarchy when it came to creative control. Everyone’s ideas were valued, and every role was considered just as important as the next. We set out to bring together a team of creatives whose work we deeply admired, but also people we knew we could genuinely collaborate with. So, the curation of the team was as much about artistic alignment as it was about energy and connection—we wanted to work with people we trusted and could create something truly special with. From there, the process felt really organic. Hopefully others can speak to this too, but I think what stood out was the mutual respect for each other’s craft. Everyone cared deeply, and the ideas that emerged—from everyone, for everyone—were remarkable. This wasn’t something any one person could have made on their own or through a top-down approach. It was fully collective.

It really is what it is because of the sum of its parts. And as a result, the shoot felt like a four-day bender—in the best possible way. Some days we were shooting from 8:00 PM to 5:00 AM, running on two to four hours of sleep. By the end of it, it honestly felt like we’d all been at a party together for four days straight. It was intense, but also really funny and surreal, and I think that kind of experience bonded us in a way that a real party never could. That’s how it felt to me, anyway.

RW Eugene and Dan, can you speak about how you incorporated fashion into the film and how the costume design responded to its themes?

EL When we received the script, concept and moodboard, we took some time to really study everything. Honestly, we connected with it straight away: the atmosphere, the mood, the themes. It aligned perfectly with the kinds of projects we love working on and with the collections we've been developing ourselves. As we read through the script and explored the visual references, we started picking up on a lot of ideas and metaphors that resonated s. There were so many paradoxes and contrasts in the narrative—reality versus the operatic, uniforms versus individuality, distance versus connection, duality of worlds.

One of the main themes we responded to was the fragility of human connection. The way the characters shift between the real world and a kind of fantasy space allowed us to reflect their emotional transformations through costume. We loved playing with this tension—how a character moves from one world to another, and how their styling shifts accordingly.

We wanted the costumes to mirror the characters’ inner worlds—how they struggle, transform, and evolve. For Kevin, for example, we leant into the idea of a work uniform. Lots of distressed denim, echoing the wreckage and broken parts you’d find in an auto repair shop. But when he’s in motion, escaping, there’s a shift. He wears a more rebellious, rider-style look that hints at his hidden desires and a longing for something more.

With Maina’s character, we imagined something more avant-garde with styling that suggests transcendence and something angelic. We used unconventional denim, reworked into an ethereal dress, paired with structural gradient boots to give her a futuristic, otherworldly presence. She carries a sense of strength, especially in that final scene, and we wanted her look to reflect both that power and a sense of divine calm.

TB What was especially great, though, was how Dan and Eugene responded. After reading the script, they came back to us with this beautiful document, which was essentially a deep character study. They weren’t just looking at the costumes from a surface level but really interrogating each character and their world. They even had questions for us that made us re-examine the characters more closely. In that way, their collaboration actually helped shape the character development itself. It was such an interesting and unexpected part of the process. We’ve worked with costume and fashion designers before, and it can often be a more transactional process: here’s the brief, here’s the response. But this was completely different.

JS This project was always about collaboration, and it became clear very early on that every creative we brought in was a true artist. We already knew that, of course, that’s why we wanted to work with them, but it was solidified in the early stages, especially through Dan and Jean’s response.

The same goes for Corin and Maina. When they began writing the track, I remember some of those first emails back and forth diving into how to create a modern operatic piece, knowing from the outset that we didn’t want to do traditional opera. That pushed them to explore what a contemporary operatic sound could be. I remember emailing Corin with some early ideas around using motifs, repetition, and layers, referencing operatic structures, but reimagining them in a completely new context.

And then there’s Kevin. He’s an incredible musician himself, even though that side of him didn’t feature heavily in this film. But what drew us to Kevin and to Shady Nasty as a whole is how much they embody Sydney. They’re a band that could only come out of this city; they couldn’t exist anywhere else. And that sense of place was something we wanted this film to capture.

I think what’s really special is that the spirit of Sydney runs through every part of this film. That was really important to us. And it’s cool to reflect on the fact that while the song itself was being written and produced across Sydney, London, Paris, and Manila, it still feels so grounded in the essence of this city.

RW The film was commissioned by the Sydney Opera House, and Jason, you touched on this briefly, the way elements of Sydney are embedded in the form and structure of the piece, through both the people involved and their contributions. I wanted to ask more specifically: how did the city of Sydney itself influence the film, whether in terms of its narrative, visuals, or tone? When I think of opera in Australia, the Sydney Opera House is an immediate association, but beyond that, there isn’t much of a connection between opera and Australian culture. Did that absence shape how you approached this work?

JS When we came up with the idea of creating a Sydney opera, it felt like one of those ideas that was so obvious we wondered why hasn’t anyone done this before? That’s when we realised it could really be special. But from the beginning, we knew that to make it meaningful, we had to deconstruct both of those words: Sydney and opera.

We’ve talked a bit about how we approached deconstructing opera for the screen. The other part was rethinking what Sydney means and how it’s portrayed. In everything Tanya and I do, there’s a strong desire to represent Sydney and to showcase the depth of talent here. We want to elevate Sydney on a global level and show that the creativity coming out of this city is just as strong—if not stronger—than anywhere else in the world. That’s something we’re really passionate about.

At the same time, it’s also about shifting how Sydney is seen, especially internationally. There’s a kind of polished, postcard image of Sydney that people expect, and that’s exactly what we didn’t want to show. The same goes for the opera. Both are often perceived as polished, elite, and inaccessible. We wanted to flip that and present a vision of Sydney that feels more grounded, more personal. Something that reflects what Sydney means to Sydney-siders.

A big part of that was in our artist curation. We were intentional about choosing artists who not only represent the creative breadth of this city, but also its edge, its contradictions, its complexity. We weren’t interested in showing a glossy version of Sydney, or just the Opera House as an icon. We wanted to capture the feeling of the city. The one we know and live in every day.

TB I think one of the most important things to note is that we intentionally didn’t want to shoot any of it at the Sydney Opera House. This is actually the first commission of its kind that’s been created entirely off-site. Instead, we made a film about cars, which, on the surface, might seem unexpected. But at its core, the film is about the fragility of human connection, and in this context, cars became a powerful allegory for both disconnection and for Sydney itself.

Sydney is a city that’s notoriously hard to navigate, especially if you don’t have a car. So, using cars as a motif felt natural. The locations we chose were meant to sit in these liminal spaces. Places that feel both familiar and strangely distant, depending on where you’re from.

MD Yeah, I think one of the reasons this project really appealed to me from the beginning was the idea of flipping the image people typically have of Sydney. It's often portrayed as pristine, polished, and quite corporate. And that just doesn't reflect the Sydney we experience day to day. What really struck me was that most of the cast and artists involved in the project are immigrants or come from immigrant backgrounds. For me, that is the heart of Sydney's creative identity and really, of Australian artistry in 2025. Seeing that represented in this way, across different disciplines like fashion and music, felt incredibly meaningful. And the fact that it wasn’t presented in the usual or expected way made it even more impactful. It brought a point of difference that felt fresh, real and necessary.

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