barczablog

And the beat goes on. While there may have been a change of leadership, the Toronto Symphony hot streak continues, with bold performances onstage & at the box office.

Sunday afternoon I attended the second of a pair of concerts with a broad assortment of different styles that might have been titled “Tuneful TSO”, including some of the most famous melodies one is likely to encounter at a symphony concert. No it wasn’t a pops concert, even if there were a couple of charming eruptions of applause between movements: something that I quite enjoy, especially when it’s warranted by the performance, as it was today.

The young American conductor James Feddeck led the TSO in this curious mix of compositions. On the one hand you might label it Germanic, what with Mendelssohn (selections from his music for A Midsummernight’s Dream) Handel (harp concerto), Wagner (“Ride of the Valkyries”) and Elgar (the “Enigma” Variations): the latter a composer who surely felt Wagner’s influence. Or would you call it English, on the grounds that—Wagner aside—Handel has been adopted as an English composer, while the Mendelssohn we heard was selected from his incidental music for a Shakespeare play? I wonder what input the young conductor had on this program, which had a very coherent feeling to it. We began and ended with powerhouse displays of trombones. And throughout there seemed to be a fascinating rapport between Feddeck and the orchestra, who seemed to be having almost as much fun as the conductor.

We began with the Wagner as a glib curtain-raiser, Feddeck perhaps pandering to the lowest common denominator in his quip that while the opera from which it’s taken is over four hours long, this might be the best 5 minutes.  Exxcuse me?  I’d say it’s not the worst 5 minutes so long as you include the vocals by the valkyries, but what we get is a ridiculously repetitive piece whose only redeeming feature is the way it showcases the players. I recall a professor decades ago saying that when Wagner wrote this he likely didn’t expect orchestras to be able to play it perfectly, that a slightly ragged sound in the strings would have added an air of wildness to the piece, a wildness that’s no longer evident when orchestras play as skillfully as this one. I love the opera, which I would never have investigated had I used Mr Feddeck as a guide. At this point I set aside my misgivings about negative commentaries (oh well… i forgave Bugs Bunny so i suppose I can forgive Feddeck), and his somewhat leaden tempo. But the slower speed does allow the players to relax somewhat, to really wail away in the climactic passages: as they did.

Talk about contrast..! The next item was about as far away as you could get. The roughly hundred players mostly vanished, as 30+ remained alongside Heidi Van Hoesen Gorton, the soloist in Handel’s harp concerto. We went from a loud celebration of war (whether you understand the piece for its operatic maidens scooping up dead heroes or the scene in Apocalypse Now, a ritual of killing) to something angelic. I was thrilled at how silent this audience became, hanging on Gorton’s every note, her highly dynamic reading of this concerto. I remember this piece for my frustration as a teen, having heard the tune partway through on the radio, hypnotized and tormented because I had no idea what I had just heard (has that ever happened to you?). It took me years to find it, one of the prettiest pieces, in a lovely recording by Judy Loman. In her interpretation Gorton elaborated the melody with ornaments, holding the audience in the palm of her hand.

Toronto Symphony harpist Heidi Van Hoesen Gorton (photo: Christopher Wahl)

When the TSO announced their program earlier this year, they stated their intention to make more use of the virtuosity in their midst: just as they did in employing their harpist – Gorton – as soloist in a concerto. The remainder of the concert continued to highlight the talent in this orchestra. Feddeck led very clearly articulated readings of three movements from Mendelssohn’s incidental music to Midsummernight’s Dream. As with the Wagner, I can’t help thinking of the cinematic associations, given that we’re in the midst of my film music course at the Conservatory, having recently looked at Korngold, who adapted this music in Reinhardt’s 1935 version of Shakespeare’s play (the one with Mickey Rooney and Olivia DeHavilland).

Toronto Symphony principal horn player Neil Deland

For me the highlight was the “Nocturne”, featuring a sumptuous solo from horn player Neil Deland.

And there were a great many more beautiful solo moments after the intermission, in the Elgar. The most impressive thing Feddeck gave us was his introduction, a charming lecture including short demonstrations from the TSO to illustrate his points, as he explained aspects of Elgar’s “enigma”, a comfortably informal presentation. Feddeck seemed very much at home with the TSO, and i believe the feelings are mutual. His expansive tempi, too, seemed guaranteed to please the orchestra, who had the time to properly build to climaxes. The audience ate it up.

Peter Oundjian returns this week with Angela Hewitt in a program of Bach & Shostakovich.

Tonight I saw Opera Atelier’s Lucio Silla, an opera receiving its Canadian premiere production at the Elgin Theatre. I’ve wondered what was so special about this opera, having heard about previous Opera Atelier presentations of the work in Europe, and now I know.

In his introductory talk, Director Marshall Pynkoski spoke of Opera Seria, a form whose reputation can be a turn-off.  When the opera began he proceeded to show us how our assumptions about the form have been wrong: in effect a continuation of much we’ve seen from Opera Atelier. Their Alcina in 2014 was full of comedy, as was their Clemenza di Tito back in 2010, both of which are the same genre. But this shouldn’t be such a surprise, any more than the inclusion of funny scenes in a tragedy.    While Opera Atelier may be in their 30th anniversary season their historically informed approach still contains lessons.

As we’ve seen in other OA productions, recitative is not merely the filler between arias, even if singers might sometimes offer them in perfunctory fashion in recitals, as the dull preparation for their vocal fireworks. There are other ways to understand – and interpret—the aria and recitative discourse of Opera Seria. Recitative can be – indeed must be—the place where the story is advanced, and where the characters have depth and integrity, whatever they might show in their vocal solos. Because Pynkoski, music-director David Fallis, and choreographer Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg sought to invest every moment with dramatic depth, the arias have a different relationship to the recitative. At times the tension and pace are so intense that the arias feel less like a place for the singer to show off, but suddenly become a place for everyone to relax, to reflect.

The arias too have a few surprises. Sometimes we’re watching dancers function as supernumaries, or seeing action on another part of the stage while an aria gently goes on. And it doesn’t hurt that this is Mozart. For a sixteen year old he wrote amazing music, never less than engaging and sometimes astonishingly beautiful. It’s a huge thrill to discover this new work. While it’s always been there (at least since the 18th century) here’s a chance to see it staged. One may wonder: why isn’t this work done more often? What’s wrong with it that we haven’t seen it before now in Toronto (or New York for that matter)?  I think the answer in each case is the same one, the tyrannical monster that perhaps needs to be slain. Whether it might be misconceptions about opera seria, or the false belief that an early Mozart opera that’s never produced is deservedly obscure, in each case the assumptions deserve to be ended.

Lucio Silla, with Gerard Gauci’s set & costumes (photo: Bruce Zinger)

Tafelmusik sounded wonderful as usual under David Fallis’ leadership, the Artists of Atelier Ballet were effective even though they did less than expected. I think Gerard Gauci’s set –and this time also including costumes as well—is his most magnificent creation for Opera Atelier that we’ve seen so far.

Set designer Gerard Gauci

Yet it’s the five remarkable soloists in this production who made this happen, five who learned some amazing music even though they likely won’t sing it again –except if Opera Atelier revives the work—given that it’s not an opera that gets produced very often: which I have now decided is too bad. This is an opera worthy of being staged regularly.

Kresimir Spicer in the title role changed from the louder and more violent Silla we saw in his first appearance, becoming gentler both in his sound and deportment. In his final aria, where Silla struggles with his moral choices, Pynkoski has him walk behind the conductor, entering the same plane as the audience, including a lengthy unaccompanied cadenza ending perfectly in tune.

Kresimir Spicer as Silla (foreground), Peggy Kriha Dye as Cecilio and Meghan Lindsay as Giunia (immediately behind), photo: Bruce Zinger

His antagonist was Meghan Lindsay as Giunia, standing firm against his demands. The physical interactions between Silla and Giunia likely are more modern than what was seen in Mozart’s time, as she boldly stands her ground against the harassment of the tyrant. Not only was the tension between the two electrifying, but as contemporary as current headlines.

Peggy Kriha Dye undertaking her first trouser role was wonderful to watch, spectacularly persuasive even though she’s not very tall. Her second-act aria to Giunia is one of the highlights of the evening, sung with magical commitment and pathos (get out your handkerchiefs… I went teary for the rest of the night), a moment suddenly putting me in mind of Fidelio even if this opera predates it by decades.

Mireille Asselin as Celia once again demonstrated that she can effortlessly shift the tone of a show, her every appearance a kind of comic relief, aided by perfect intonation. Inga Kalna’s Cinna was a perfect match, with her brilliant coloratura.

Lucio Silla continues at the Elgin Theatre until April 16th .

So in other words do go see Lucio Silla. You have nothing to lose except false assumptions.

If you can judge a book by its cover – or a small performing arts company by its poetic name – then it’s a match made in heaven, this idea for Travelogue: a collaboration between Bicycle Opera Project (opera with bicycles?) and Toy Piano Composers (what would Schroeder say?). Each company’s oxymoronic name flies in the face of norms & expectations, to signal a playful & non-typical attitude.

Soprano Larissa Koniuk– founder & artistic director of Bicycle Opera Project– is often seen in the vicinity of a bicycle (photo: Dahlia Katz)

Tonight was the second of two presentations of Travelogue, to begin Toy Composers’ Curiosity Festival, running until next week, but the only one of the three that also involves BOP. The other two programs are

• Playback April 6 & 7 at the Canadian Music Centre
• Metal April 9 at the Heliconian Hall

It may be that the notion of the travelogue as the structuring concept behind this brief anthology of short works was inspired by BOP’s nomadic habits, riding around with their entire show attached to their bicycles.

• April by Monica Pearce
• Road Trip by Elisha Denburg
• My Mouth on Your Heart by August Murphy-King, libretto by Colleen Murphy
• Waterfront by Tobin Stokes

Travelogue used the first floor space of the Arts & Letters Club, a wonderful showcase venue for voice (for example, this is where the Toronto Wagner Society usually introduce their scholarship winner), with rather rudimentary stage facilities. Each of the operas received a fair hearing, in collaboration with the delicate playing of Wesley Chen, Piano and Music Director, Anthony Thompson, clarinet / bass clarinet, and Ilana Waniuk, Violin.

April makes a great beginning to the anthology, a curious piece of meta-opera that suggests layers upon layers including a reflection back upon the cycling opera company. “Lucy is riding her bike up the Don Valley trail”, and there we are with an opera putting a bicycle onto the stage, and doubly self-reflexive. When the story begins to repeat, the ambiguities multiply, as we wonder what’s in the present, what’s merely in Lucy’s head, as she seems to watch herself meeting someone again and again. I would have wished it to continue a bit longer, as we didn’t seem to have nearly exhausted the possibilities. Call me old-fashioned, but I think there’s enough in this one scene to fill a whole evening, especially given the subtleties of Monica Pearce’s score.  I was thoroughly sucked into this world of images by soprano Larissa Koniuk, tenor Chris Enns and especially BOP newcomer mezzo-soprano Marjorie Maltais.

Each of our operas is given a preamble from the composer, a part of the evening that was somewhat uneven, given that at least one of these was a witty performance, another a charming talk resembling stand-up comedy. But in fairness this is experimental, the preambles representing something introductory. I hope I don’t seem like a churl for wishing that the same degree of commitment and rigour had been shown by all four.

Road Trip was the beginning of something that could be much more substantial. As with the output of the Tapestry Opera libretto laboratory, your mileage may vary, as some of these pieces seem more finished, while others represent the beginning of something that could eventually bear fruit, especially after more workshopping.

The title and description had me cringing as I read about it in the program, as I wondered how My Mouth On Your Heart could possibly work, especially given this synopsis:

Liam travels to the side of the highway where his girlfriend, Anna, died when a drunk driver smashed into her car. Anna’s pointless death has left Liam in anguish. Standing alone on the highway, clutching a flower, he finds himself travelling back and forth between Life and Death, trying to make a decision about where to go with his own grief.

I was won over, as this turned out to be the highlight of my evening, the score, libretto & especially the performances, breaking down my resistance. Enns, Maltais (as the death-figure) and Koniuk (the life-figure) engage in a spectacularly passionate bit of singing. This is surely the most operatic part of the program, where we justify the process. For the other three, charming as they are in places, I’m not persuaded that those pieces really needed to be set to music, that the music is an essential element. In this case –where the subject is daunting to any actor let alone to a composer—August Murphy-King’s composition justifies the effort, and redeems everything else in the evening. We’re into a completely irrational realm of passion, where it doesn’t matter that one occasionally couldn’t hear a word, when the music was so sublimely articulate. The concluding lines of the opera utter the title, something that’s redeemed both by the way it’s composed & the manner in which it’s sung by Chris Enns, who usually does the heavy-lifting for BOP on the dramatic side.

L-R Larissa Koniuk, Chris Enns and Marjorie Maltais (photo: Dahlia Katz)

The final work followed the BOP practice of ending on a lighter note, this time the comedy of Waterfront, a fun bit of science-fiction fluff in an operatic vein. Geoffrey Sirett was again defying audience members to keep a straight face (I couldn’t manage it), alongside Koniuk and Maltais.