Soup Can HERETIC: not the usual martyr

Posted on November 14, 2015 by barczablog

Tonight I watched the latest version of HERETIC, Sarah Thorpe’s latest version of her play with the sub-title ”A Modern Retelling of the Story of Joan of Arc“. I was aware of her objective, to give an old story a new spin, and I confess I was resistant to this expanded version of Thorpe’s one-woman show that was previously presented earlier this year.

Sarah Thorpe (photo: Laura Dittman)

Sarah Thorpe (photo: Laura Dittman)

I was resistant because it’s a story that bothers me at a deep level. Joan’s story is simultaneously a miraculous tale of redemption and cruel punishment. While the first part—where the English are pushed back by a French army led by a bold young girl dressed in armor—is inspiring, yet she doesn’t deserve her eventual treatment. No I don’t like the usual way the story is told because it teases you and then breaks your heart. This is a tale that reminds us of the horrific discrepancy between the ideals of the spirit and the reality of human nature, of the worst sins committed by religion in the name of God. It’s stories like this one that might be the reason so many people fall away from their faith, as we question religion itself, wondering if humanity is really capable of living up to the ideals in the Bible. My usual way of reconciling that is by distinguishing between the ideals in the Bible and the reality seen in the conduct of religions. However inspired their origins, religion is where the murder & genocide comes from. Religion poisons the inspiration of spirit with something sadly all too human, the sick interface where Jesus gets slandered and sold out by child molesting priests and TV preachers. It’s not Jesus’ fault that Christianity is in trouble; with friends like these who needs the Romans (aka the ones who crucified him)?

Enter Sarah Thorpe and her company Soup Can Theatre. HERETIC tells a story I’ve known all my life, but in a genuinely new version. No I’m not saying you will shout “Hallelujah” and rush to a church; quite the contrary. This story is very much the no-bullshit version of Joan.  While it still includes inspiration, it also helps us understand the betrayal, reconciling the two.  As a result I was not freaked out the way I was watching Shaw’s play or the film adaptations I’ve seen.

Part of this is Thorpe’s writing, which includes her portrayal of a multitude of characters of both genders. At one point she is the executioner. At another –one of my favourite scenes—we get a portrayal of the Dauphin and his mistress in a dialogue, back and forth in complete cynicism.

Sarah Thorpe as the Dauphin (photo: Laura Dittman)

Sarah Thorpe as the Dauphin (photo: Laura Dittman)

We hear from a priest who is her confessor, yet whose dialogue frames her life as though from an immortal perspective, the view from beyond the grave and beyond life itself. This perspective is the frame-work for HERETIC, and is a brilliant choice for the beginning and end, for although his language is judgmental, she refuses to buy into his criteria, refuses to accept his religious perspective. And that is the reason Thorpe as Joan is free of the claustrophobic enclosure of a religious perspective. Joan is genuinely modern in her refusal to be judged, a refusal to disclose her mystery to our profane and cynical eyes.

The choices in the mise-en-scene reinforce that contemporary angle. While the design may have been originally chosen simply because it’s pragmatic & inexpensive, it’s an inspired series of choices from Alyksandra Ackerman. As we begin, we’re looking at the sparsely decorated space at Theatre Passe Muraille backspace, with a series of chalk outlines on the upstage wall (at the rear) that resemble stained glass. At the best of times stained glass is cartoony, a clumsy symbolism arising from the expressive limitations imposed by the materials. We see the approach of cloisonism, the same style employed by Gaugin & his circle, echoing the outlines one sees in cloisonné or of course on a church’s glass windows.

Whether it was conscious or accidental, Thorpe steps into this space with big sticks of chalk, telling her story by drawing big chalk outlines on the floor, while walking in this same imaginary space, herself as a sort of icon, among outlines of the cross, of castles & crosses. In a very real sense, she strides among the symbolic icons as though the stained glass were incarnated & walking before us, herself an icon (later a saint) telling her stories of messages from other saints and from Jesus, and her eventual martyrdom.

And so the part that has always bothered me—the political priests—scarcely upset me in this telling, because it was clear that Joan is stronger and clearer than the corruption of these terrestrial politicians. They may drag her down with their limited sexist ideas of how a person should live (for instance, their insistence that she not wear pants): but that only helps make her immortal in the end.

Thorpe wears several hats, not just as writer, but also performer & co-director. Speaking of resurrection & rebirth, to me it’s as though Thorpe has brought this story back from the dead. If for no other reason than to struggle with the meaty ideas in this story, you owe it to yourself to see HERETIC¸ playing at Theatre Passe Muraille’s backspace until November 22nd.

Posted in Dance, theatre & musicals, Spirituality & Religion | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Mahler’s decade

Posted on November 13, 2015 by barczablog

Michael Sanderling led the Toronto Symphony in a program of works from the first decade of the twentieth century featuring soprano Simone Osborne. We heard a diverse assortment of musical styles represented even though the works have a few things in common. Let’s set aside Mahler’s 4th Symphony from the second half of the program.

We began with

  • “The Dance of the Seven Veils” from Salome by Richard Strauss
  • The Song to the moon from Rusalka by Antonin Dvorak
  • “Depuis le jour” from Louise by Gustave Charpentier
  • The Vilja song from The Merry Widow by Franz Lehar

We heard a seductive dance, a song dreaming of love, “Depuis le jour” (a young girl reflects on her first days in love) and the Vilja song (a sentimental old song concerning love of a spirit of the woods).

Sanderling led a comparatively restrained reading of Salome’s dance, one clearly articulating every sound for the first half of the composition, but gradually building up the pace as though discovering greater levels of passion.

The three vocal pieces (the Lehar piece being an encore) make a nice set. Where the song in Rusalka seems to represent an impossible dream, the Charpentier is a reflection upon the recent achievement of that dream in a young woman’s life, while the Lehar is a sentimental tune meant to look back, as though it were an old folk-song. I found that the orchestral tempo Sanderling gave the Dvorak kept a bit of a lid on its passion, perhaps making Osborne’s reading more polite than it might otherwise have been. Similarly the Charpentier is often done at a moderate tempo. making it more reflective and thoughtful, and as a result perhaps more chaste than what the composer had in mind. In the third item, Osborne fully relaxed into the song, entering fully into the spirit of the song.

After intermission, Sanderling led a fascinating reading of Mahler’s 4th. This is a work that is best illuminated by a conductor willing to make the necessary tempo changes, a piece showing us scenes from childhood, sometimes with wild energy, sometimes with nostalgia and schmaltziness: and Sanderling didn’t disappoint. The TSO responded wonderfully to Sanderling’s choices, opening the first movement gently, building to several break-neck tempi in the first movement, sometimes displaying a playful energy then just as suddenly putting on the brakes. We were treated to several exquisite solos, especially concert-master Jonathan Crow and several of the wind players. The long & dramatic third movement can be done with greater restraint and subtlety than this, which I believe makes the drama ultimately that much more powerful so long as one doesn’t mind making the movement longer; but Sanderling was emphasizing contrasts, bringing forth climaxes from key voices, and making the piece very articulate, very transparent. When we got to the loud climax in the third movement, often spoken of as though the composer is flinging open the gates of heaven, we saw a wonderfully theatrical gesture, as at this moment the stage door opened for Osborne’s solemn entrance, for the final movement.

This is a very different sort of singing from what we experienced in the first half of the program, as the voice must be unforced, gentle, to match the angelic text. Osborne’s charming expression seems ideal for the innocence of the piece, her voice gently floating over the orchestra.  Overall Sanderling and the TSO achieved a spectacular rapport.

The program will be repeated Saturday Nov 14th at 8:00 pm.

Posted in Music and musicology, Reviews | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

CASP: The Living Spectacle

Posted on November 8, 2015 by barczablog

(The) Canadian Art Song Project aim to explore the art song in all its manifestations.  Tonight CASP took a bold new step in the first in a new series of recitals.  “The Living Spectacle”, the first work on tonight’s program, gave its name to the evening, a series of four different works presented by a pianist, two singers and a dancer.  CASP

Pianist Steven Philcox –co-artistic director of CASP along with tenor Lawrence Wiliford—played the entire evening both sitting at and reaching into the piano.  Sopranos Ambur Braid and Carla Huhtanen each sang two cycles, an intense night of singing for both.  And Jennifer Nichols, who is founder of the Extension Room, the site of tonight’s performances, choreographed and danced in the last cycle.

In conversation afterwards, Wiliford explained some of CASP’s ambitions, which were perfectly demonstrated by an evening going far beyond the usual singer + piano.  Wiliford was very humble about defining the art song, suggesting that an evening like this one could potentially enlarge the boundaries of what’s possible, but that the definitions & possibilities are open to revision, and changeable from one year to the next.

I feel a bit promiscuous, on a night when four different works seduced me: at least until the next one came along to turn my head anew…

The Living Spectacle received its world premiere tonight, Erik Ross’ setting three Roy Campbell translations (or should I call them paraphrases?) from Baudelaire.   While I don’t know how Ross works, the composition seemed to be built from the wonderful accompaniment (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, given that for example Wagner supposedly wrote vocal lines after having sketched the orchestral passages), with the vocals almost like icing on the cake.  Each of the three was totally different in mood and with a distinct style, corresponding to three very different texts.  In at least one I felt the piano was making something that could be described as pattern music, which makes a lot of sense when we remember that Debussy and Satie were arguably the two godfathers of minimalism, although Ross’s pianism was much richer & more beautiful than my description would suggest.  Braid opted for a very dramatic approach to the singing, in a series of very clearly conceived portrayals.

And the next set by Carla Huhtanen took us into a classical realm, both in the first CASP performance that I can recall of a touchstone of vocal repertoire –Richard Strauss—and in the dramatization of a figure from Shakespeare, namely Ophelia in the Drei Ophelia Lieder (1918).  As she was entering Huhtanen delivered a couple of lines of Shakespeare in English to frame the songs.  It seemed particularly apt after seeing Hamlet just a couple of days ago in a production raising the question of the ages of both Hamlet & Ophelia, to be watching these songs that could be sung by an Ophelia of any age.  She seems eternally frozen in that bewildered and broken place poised on the edge of the river before jumping in, a place and a perspective that’s truly ageless.  Huhtanen is one of the regulars with Tapestry, a singer with a gift for singing with great precision that never seems artificial or overly controlled; and when you hear some of the scores she sings, you’d realize what an amazing gift that is.  In the Strauss, with its quirky enharmonics and occasionally funny intervals, she always made it sound natural, even when also sounding mad.  She had the guilelessness of a crazy child, heartbreakingly cute even though she’s a trainwreck.  Philcox had this insane night at the piano but especially in the Strauss, who can be a total killer, remaining playful and delicate throughout.

I’ve described the first two big pieces as though infatuated, and yet each of the next two were better.  Imagine a program with the balls to put the best at the end this way, and you have some idea of what we saw & heard.  But maybe i should say “ovaries” rather than “balls” considering that the works could be said to embody feminist principles, particularly the last two items.

The third item on the program, coming before intermission, was Libby Larsen’s Try Me, Good King.  The idea is so juicy, I’m embarrassed that I’ve never encountered this piece before: because it’s so good.  Subtitled “Last words of the wives of Henry VIII”, each of the five comes from text written by, in succession, Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn (whose song indeed cries out “Try Me” over and over), Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves and Katherine Howard.  Before we heard the songs, though, Braid came back to the stage carrying a drink to address us off the cuff before the songs.  Is there a smarter singer in this city?  Yes we’ve noticed how attractive she is, how effortless her high coloratura, but let me repeat, I think she’s very intelligent.  For a few minutes she stood before us riffing on the wives of Henry the VIIIth almost like a stand-up comic, giving us the background while enacting a kind of distancing Brecht would have loved.  I couldn’t help thinking –as I watched five distinct impersonations, one per song—that at least one motivating reason was that Braid was seeking a bit of distance for fear of becoming too emotional. Even as it was, I was in tears in several places, overwhelmed by the intensity of these songs and her portrayals.  I wonder if Larsen has ever heard them done this way, so flamboyantly, yet so distinctly?  I would think she’d be blown away, as were we come to think of it.  Almost incidentally, there was a high C-sharp, among singing and characterization in a different style for each wife.

After intermission CASP revived a work commissioned in 2011, namely Sewing the Earthworm with text by David James Brock, set by Brian Harman.  I am reproducing text from the Canadian Music Centre to describe this work, originally premiered by Huhtanen & Philcox back in 2012 in a concert at the Richard Bradshaw Amphitheatre

The character in Sewing the Earthworm is inspired by 1970s punk rock icon Wendy O. Williams. The work dramatizes a private frustration as she looks back on a fragmented life, from the radical punk aesthetic to champion of environmental issues, before her suicide in 1998. This character relates to many other iconic artists: Frida Kahlo, Anaïs Nin and Elizabeth Bishop, for example. Because of these artists’ outspokenness, we find their human weaknesses even more intriguing.The setting for the piece is inspired by an anecdote about Albert Einstein: he loved to garden, but couldn’t bear the accidental killing of creatures living in the ground. Sewing the Earthworm begins with a lonely woman contemplating her garden as a haven for both herself and the many forms of life she tends to within it.The language of Sewing the Earthworm is that of myth, poetry, and spectacle. A physically deteriorating woman remains thankful that her hands can still control larger clumps of dirt in the maintenance of her private garden. She remembers her former abilities, especially with finer manual endeavours, and laments that her mind has remained long enough to know her body’s condition. When she accidentally cuts an earthworm in half while gardening, she decides to attach the pieces with needle and thread to save its life. The seemingly futile attempt is compounded by her desire to prove that physical control has not abandoned her, and the piece makes a rapid shift both musically and textually as a mental struggle takes over.

Clearly Huhtanen has had additional thoughts about the work, as the 2015 presentation is the most involved piece of theatre yet created by CASP (and I say this after chatting with the composer & librettist, who credit her with the key ideas in the presentation).  Joined onstage by dancer Jennifer Nichols, Huhtanen & Nichols are dressed so alike that one might think that they are aspects of the same person.  Huhtanen sings, Nichols dances, although Huhtanen did a bit of dance as well.   Both Philcox and Nichols reach into the piano (I’m not sure if Nichols only mimed or genuinely strummed any strings inside the instrument, as Philcox did).  Huhtanen empties a wheel-barrow of peat moss onto a portion of the performance space, in front of the mirrored surfaces (the Extension Room is a dance studio, which makes it perfectly natural to have mirrors behind the performance).  The dancer & singer both reach into the peat moss, whose gentle aroma permeates the space.  I was reminded of some of Pina Bausch’s works, whereby the organic materials gently perfume the air, creating an effect of great sensuousness.  Watching the two blonde women –virtually twins in their black outfits—probing into the soft living material while Huhtanen sings about earthworms was highly suggestive.  We’re in the presence of some wonderfully ambiguous dualities, that the earth is rich with life but the place where we put our bodies when they die, that the earth teems with little worms, even as those same worms might infest or devour our remains if we were buried there.  At one point Huhtanen has her hands into the dark peat moss while Nichols has her hands into the big dark open piano.

(l-r) David James Brock, Erik Ross, Brian Harman, Steven Philcox, Jennifer Nichols, Ambur Braid and Carla Huhtanen

(l-r) David James Brock, Erik Ross, Brian Harman, Steven Philcox, Jennifer Nichols, Ambur Braid and Carla Huhtanen

And I couldn’t help noticing that while the performers are so young in this performance that hints at death and decay, most of us in the audience were much older, much closer to the death to which they gently allude.

CASP will be back in February, in a program titled “The Pilgrim Soul” featuring Phillip Addis and pianist Emily Hamper performing songs by Canadians Chester Duncan, Larysa Kuzmenko (In Search of Eldorado) and Imant Raminsh (The Pilgrim Soul) as well as works by Gustav Mahler (Songs of a Wayfarer) and Dominick Argento (The Andrée Expedition), at the Enoch Turner Schoolhouse.

Posted in Music and musicology, Reviews | 5 Comments

Mr Turner: painter, paintings, movie

Posted on November 7, 2015 by barczablog

There is a scene in the first half hour of Mike Leigh’s recent film Mr Turner, juxtaposing the creative ambitions of amateurs and professionals. We see Timothy Spall as Turner, greeting a noble on his estate. Another person –likely another artist—hangs back, waiting for the right moment, as Turner and the noble discuss the relative merits of horse and ox pulling a plow or made into dinner. When he sees his moment to jump into the conversation, he wishes him a good evening before asking “are we not blessed… by the heavens… to witness …so glorious… a crepuscular time of day”? Having seized the moment and mangled it so thoroughly, he steps out of the spotlight, as the noble quietly pronounces “imbecile” to Turner, and they enter a large room, to examine the way several of Turner’s paintings are displayed.

Throughout the conversation, an amateur (likely a member of the noble household) is playing Beethoven on the piano, apparently just having learnt the slow movement of the Pathetique Sonata, stopping & starting with mistakes and changes of pace. Turner approaches this handsome woman and in due course, when they discover a mutual appreciation for Purcell, she plays Dido’s Lament. Turner attempts to sing the tune as only ardent fans nowadays sing Turner Swift or Lady Gaga, getting some of the words wrong while fondly chasing the tune. She follows him as he is carried away with the emotion. At the end, he sadly pronounces it “a song of lost love”, and thanks her.

I can’t get this scene out of my head, a litmus test for the accuracy of Mr Turner, and one of the high-points in a film that’s possibly the most authentic representation of 19th century cultural life I’ve ever seen captured in cinema. Coincidentally the qualities of light captured on the screen are unlike anything I’ve ever seen in a film, but reminiscent of the light passing through the clean air in the few places I’ve been where the atmosphere isn’t befouled, such as St John’s Newfoundland or Reykjavik Iceland. The yellow light there is qualitatively different and we see it in this film, which seems to be at pains to help us see as Turner saw, or indeed, as humans saw almost two hundred years ago.

You might know Leigh for his 1999 film Topsy-Turvy, exploring the lives of Gilbert & Sullivan, a film that also employed Spall, albeit in a smaller role. This time Leigh leans heavily upon Spall, who is onscreen for most of the 144 minutes.

We picked up the DVD in the AGO’s store after seeing Painting Set Free, the exhibit of Turner paintings that recently opened here in Toronto. I would strongly recommend seeing the film if you don’t know the painter or his art. While I thought I knew the painter, I had no idea of the man and his extraordinary life.

The film includes a couple of set-pieces built around some of his most famous paintings, that one should perhaps take with a grain of salt:

  • as Turner and friends observe a Napoleonic era battleship being towed away by an ugly steam-powered tug against the most perfect sunset, we see “The Fighting Temeraire” in Leigh’s perfect recreation moments before the inspiration hits the painter, so perfect that it’s in the trailer like an irresistible lure (roughly 40 seconds in)
  • the evils of slavery come up in conversation, as Turner absorbs the conversation and in due course paints that horrific painting of the slave-ship with a tempest approaching, as they throw the sick overboard.
  • Turner watches a steam locomotive, and shortly we see the images replicated into his fantasy “Rain Steam & Speed”

Surely that’s not how it happened –that these images existed in an objective way, especially as shown in the first and third of the examples, and were merely reproduced by an artist who saw them directly before him—but rather it was Turner’s art that created these compositions, in his mind and in the play of materials on the canvas. But I won’t accuse Leigh of being reductive as this is perhaps a bit of whimsy from the film-maker, and delicious to watch.

As with Topsy-turvy, the film takes its time and has no apparent interest in being commercial or cutting corners, which only enhances the sense of truthfulness. We see a painter, we see him painting, and we see him dealing with a public often unable to understand his work, without a clue as to what he was aiming for. But he’s not an ideological rebel or a deliberate revolutionary. I will continue to watch this film, enjoying the way that it offers a new window on JMW Turner.

Posted in Art, Architecture & Design, Cinema, video & DVDs, Opera, Reviews | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sondra Radvanovsky in recital Dec 4th

Posted on November 6, 2015 by barczablog

“INHERITOR TO CALLAS”: FROM MET TRIUMPH
TO KOERNER HALL!
SOPRANO SONDRA RADVANOVSKY IN RECITAL

A SHOW ONE PRESENTATION, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4

“Stupendous”… “flawless…technical command”… a true inheritor to the Callas approach” – New York Times

WITH ANTHONY MANOLI, PIANO

The stunning voice and captivating stage presence of Sondra Radvanovsky come to Toronto’s Koerner Hall when Svetlana Dvoretsky/Show One Productions presents the internationally acclaimed Metropolitan Opera soprano in a rare and intimate recital performance for her hometown audience, Friday, December 4, 8 p.m.  Information is at http://www.showoneproductions.ca.

At the piano will be her longtime collaborator Anthony Manoli, a sought-after recitalist with prominent singers and highly regarded coach.

In an eclectic program sung in five languages, Radvanovsky lends her rich vibrato and expressive timbre to sumptuous operatic arias by Vivaldi, Giordano and Dvorak and the intimate art songs of Bellini, Liszt, Richard Strauss and Samuel Barber.

Tickets, $55-$125, are available by calling 416-408-0208; or visiting the Koerner Hall box office, 273 Bloor Street W., or online at http://www.rcmusic.ca (or directly at https://tickets.rcmusic.ca/public/hall.asp?event=1552).

It was Svetlana Dvoretsky/Show One Productions who introduced Radvanovsky to Toronto audiences in her Canadian debut, in 2010.  She joined baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky in operatic arias and duets by Verdi and other composers under the baton of Constantine Orbelian. December 4 marks Radvanovsky’s second appearance under the Show One banner.  (Show One will present Hvorostovsky in recital on February 21, 2016, 7 p.m., also at Koerner Hall.)

SONDRA RADVANOVSKY (www.sondraradvanovsky.com)
“Stupendous”… “flawless…technical command”… a true inheritor to the Callas approach” – the New York Times’ Anthony Tommasini’s assessments were just some of the superlatives showered on Sondra Radvanovsky in her Metropolitan Opera debut as Anna Bolena in September.  It was the first of Donizetti’s three Tudor queens she will portray at the Met this season – a feat accomplished by only a few, legendary sopranos.

Based in the Toronto area, Sondra Radvanovsky is adored by fans and critics around the world for the sincerity and intensity of her performances.

The exquisite depth and color of her voice are matched by her artistry and versatility across a remarkable range of repertoire, and she is one of the world’s leading interpreters of both the Verdi heroines and the bel canto roles of Bellini and Donizetti.  Besides her regular Metropolitan Opera appearances, she has performed in most of the world’s leading opera houses – among them the Royal Opera House, Paris Opera and Teatro alla Scala. On the concert stage, she has appeared internationally with such renowned conductors as James Levine, David Zinman, James Conlon and Zubin Mehta.

ANTHONY V. MANOLI
Pianist and Coach Anthony V. Manoli has worked with some of the world’s leading opera companies and conductors.  As a sought after collaborator, he has worked with Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, Mirella Freni, Jose Carreras, Rockwell Blake and Edita Gruberova, among other singers, appearing frequently in recitals around the planet.  Manoli coaches for the Young Artists Programs at the Washington Opera and the Los Angeles Opera.  He is also a faculty member of the Mannes College of Music in New York City, where he lives and maintains an active coaching studio.

SHOW ONE PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS
Soprano Sondra Radvanovsky in Recital
With Anthony Manoli, piano
Friday, December 4, 2015, 8 p.m. at Koerner Hall
PROGRAM:
Antonio Vivaldi: Sposa son disprezzata, from Bajazet
Vincenzo Bellini: Three songs (Per pieta, bell’idol moi; La Ricordanza; Ma rendi pur contento)
Richard Strauss: Four songs (Allerseelen, Befreit, Morgen, Heimliche Aufforderung)
Antonin Dvořák: Song to the Moon, from Rusalka
Franz Liszt: Three songs (S’il est un charmant gazon; Enfant, si j’étais roi; Oh! Quand je dors)
Samuel Barber: Selections from Hermit Songs (At Saint Patrick’s Purgatory, St. Ita’s Vision, The Crucifixion, The Monk and His Cat, The Desire for Hermitage)
Umberto Giordano: La Mamma Morta, from Andrea Chénier

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13 ways of looking at Pyramus and Thisbe

Posted on November 6, 2015 by barczablog
  1. If a scientist could slice up love and loss into small specimens and put them onto slides and put them under a microscope it would resemble what we saw at the Four Seasons Centre tonight and in earlier performances from the Canadian Opera Company, of this piece called Pyramus and Thisbe, including two short works by Monteverdi and one by Barbara Monk Feldman.

  2. Christopher Small in his home near Barcelona in 2002. Credit Michele Curel (click for NYTimes obit)

    Opera is often meant to show off the skills of the performers: but not always. Christopher Small, decrying the reification of music, said “performance does not exist in order to present musical works, but rather, musical works exist in order to give performers something to perform”.   In the heyday of the virtuoso the singer could dispose of the new aria offered by the composer, and instead pull their favourite piece out of their suitcase instead.   Yet the periods before and after that had no use for the virtuoso.  BEFORE in Monteverdi’s time –when we begin the COC presentation of Pyramus and Thisbe—the composers still adhered to the dream of the Florentine Camerata, to revive the tragic practices of Ancient Greece, dreaming up a second practice that was more intelligible than the churchy counterpoint that came before. AFTER in Debussy’s time—before Barbara Monk Feldman’s opera but in a century bursting free from the tyranny of the virtuoso—singers again served the text as virtuously as they had in Monteverdi’s time. Yes we’re in a reified place, not unlike that mental space where one would propose to submit 13 ways of looking at something.

  3. The libretto in Monteverdi’s time was the focus, the music being a means to a dramatic end. To that end it must be understood.  Are we past that now? Surtitles aren’t really the point, if one is alluding, speaking indirectly in one’s selection of text.  The words in Pyramus and Thisbe­ are from a variety of sources according to the program.  There are words in English and German, quotes from Jaspers & Rilke alongside Faulkner and others.  Am I a conservative bourgeois in wishing to see the libretto, to read it and to be able to go back to the sources?  I know that if I were in a gallery peering at paintings –which seems relevant in a work with such an echo of visual art—I might have all too little to go on, in making a smidgen of meaning.   I do recall that back in 1981 I was privileged to be invited to the North American premiere of Satyagraha at Artpark, Lewiston NY, after having written an interview of Philip Glass.  I was given a score of the opera to peruse.  I can’t help thinking that when we’re exploring something new, we’re more inclined to be sympathetic to what we can understand.  Sympathetic understanding is more remote when the learning curve is too steep.  I recall the radical move of the COC to invite some of us backstage to see their production of Semele up close (even if one of us went & got all star-struck talking to Jane & Allyson, blush….), whereby it became more comprehensible.  That worked for me at least.
  4. The use of these disparate sources, without attribution and without making the text available? At least frustrating. At worst, pretentious name-dropping.
  5. Death lurks throughout this work, but then again that’s what we see with Pyramus and Thisbe, that’s how it is for Tancredi & Clorinda. If we were to reduce our lives to a single plot arc, it might be birth –intimacy—death, where the intimacy is signified by touching. Director Christopher Alden clearly gets this, and clearly signifies this.
  6. I’ve now seen this opera twice, and don’t really think I want to call it an opera. One can make theatre out of musical sources that aren’t opera, for example Against the Grain Theatre company regularly do so using song cycles and oratorios their Messiah is coming up soon.  If I call Pyramus and Thisbe an opera, can I call Die Schöne Mullerin or Harawi operas?  Do we call Messiah or Mozart’s Requiem  operas, when they’re given an operatic treatment?  Ballet companies take a symphony and make it into a dance work but that doesn’t actually change the symphony into something else, tempting as it is to now see it as a text for another medium.

    Director Matthew Jocelyn and Composer Phillipe Boesmans (photo: ©Isabelle Françaix)

    Director Matthew Jocelyn and Composer Phillipe Boesmans (photo: ©Isabelle Françaix). Boesmans’ JULIE has its North American premiere later this month.

  7. I’m thinking a lot about composition. I’ll be seeing Phillipe Boesmans’ Julie very soon in a co-production from Canadian Stage & Soundstreams.  Adam Scime’s L’homme et le Ciel will be presented in early December by Fawn Opera.
    Sirett & soprano Larissa Koniuk, L'Homme et l'Ange qui a venu du Ciel

    Geoffrey Sirett & soprano Larissa Koniuk, L’Homme et l’Ange qui a venu du Ciel

    I was thrilled to participate in the recent premiere of David Warrack’s Abraham at Metropolitan United Church (an oratorio).  There are lots more that I haven’t mentioned.  At the same time, I’ve tried it myself.  I wrote a piece presented at the University of Toronto back in 2000 called Silence is Golden that was a kind of celebration of some of the stories my mother told me.  I did an adaptation of Venus in Furs in 1999 that is still really the trunk of a longer version of the work, if I ever get back to it, to finish it.  So much time has gone by…(!)  So, while I am in awe –that so much time has passed, that people manage to do so much and be so productive– I am not going to be critical that a work that is not an opera was presented on the COC’s stage.

  8. Louis Riel was premiered almost half a century ago, as was The Luck of Ginger Coffey. We are told we’ll be seeing Riel again on the COC stage, and that leads me to wonder about casting.  Who will play Riel? A baritone who can act, I should think.  Is it right for Russell Braun, or is he more apt for John A Macdonald, (another baritone role)?  While my friends are more likely to bet on who might win the Superbowl or the Stanley Cup, I think it’s fun turning the casting into a matter for a wager.  I am betting that they get Riel on stage and that it’s a huge success.  Will they get Kristina Szabo to portray Riel’s wife, the part played by Roxolana Roslak including the text in Cree (or is it Ojibwa?)? She is the designated power-lifter for the COC & AtG (i will never get her ““Doundou Tchil” out of my head, the most ferociously sexy thing i have ever seen in an “opera”…notice i put the word in QUOTES!).
  9. Love can be terribly arbitrary. One minute you’re sailing away with Theseus, the next minute you’ve been abandoned on an island, lamenting your fate. Art too is arbitrary. One century, people like Franco Corelli or Jon Vickers sing “Lasciatemi morire”, the next, we get all fundamentalist and insist it only be sung by a woman.
  10. The act of touching magically bridges the gap between discreet objects & beings. We seem to be all alone, isolated, alone.  Sometimes we make contact, and in that moment there is another possibility.  The poetry of loneliness is in the dream of contact.
  11. Surtitles are so helpful, whether we’re hearing a foreign language or our own. And when no one onstage is moving, there’s always the title to read.  I wish David Warrack’s piece Abraham had been presented with surtitles, a work that was wonderfully well-received (and i don’t think i am biased…. i heard the loud applause).
  12. The deeper we got into the piece, the more people and the less actual life. We are examining specimens, discreet snapshots or toe-clippings of romance. We begin with passion, Ariadne alone.  We have more passion with Tancredi & Clorinda.  But once we’re talking about Pyramus & Thisbe, that’s just it, we are in meta-territory.  We observe, we contemplate, and the singing is removed from the realm of real romance.  Yes they die.  But for the entire piece we are examining death as though we were that detective onstage.  It is forensic opera.
  13. Performances happen in this reified realm. Krisztina Szabo, Philip Addis, Owen McCausland each move and sing.  The deeper we get into the realm of pure thingified thought, the more I stared at Johannes Debus, his gestures conducting the orchestra, the last vestige of genuine life on the stage.  He was worth the cheers.
Posted in Art, Architecture & Design, Music and musicology, Opera, Personal ruminations & essays | 1 Comment

Hart House Hamlet

Posted on November 5, 2015 by barczablog

I’ve been going to Hart House Theatre for a very long time, going back to my own participation as an undergrad in another century, a place for ambitious productions, a less-than-ideal space built in a lovely old building full of tradition.

The new Hamlet directed by Paolo Santalucia opened Wednesday night to a full house, to begin a three week run.  The cast are already solidly in command, as I can only recall one missed line, in a long wordy play.  Santalucia has given us lots to ponder.

Dan Mousseau as Hamlet

Dan Mousseau as Hamlet, set design by Nancy Perrin

The set design by Nancy Perrin is a curious sculptural construction. If it’s not post-apocalyptic it at least suggests the freight of associations we all bring to any new reading of a Shakespeare play, particularly this one. Can you say “anxiety of influence”?  When I interviewed young Dan Mousseau earlier this week this was one of the things I wondered, as one steps onto a stage that echoes Hamlets of yore, both cinematic and live, heroic and hammy (including Mel Brooks glorious take in To Be or Not to Be).

From his arrival onstage, Mousseau is in command: of his text, of his story, of the evening.  At times I felt as though I was watching a one-man show of soliloquys, interrupted by the occasional bit of business, because his readings were so extraordinary, so original, so confident, so effortless.  I’d asked him about Hamlet’s age, because he’s younger than what we’re accustomed to , even if I have always been bothered by 40 year old Hamlets who are in their mother’s closet, a mother who is presumably still sexual at… 60 or more? Now if Hamlet is 22 (or playing 25, as Mousseau said), this is all that much more plausible.  Claudius and Gertrude are younger, more vital, and Hamlet seems oppressed that much harder by their actions.  His outcome is more tragic, beginning to resemble that of Romeo, as he and Ophelia are pushed by the offenses of their elders. The play is most vivid and alive during Dan’s soliloquys, as the play hits its stride whenever he’s alone.  Perhaps that’s simply because the play itself is working very hard at times.

When the players arrive? Then it’s no longer just on Mousseau’s shoulders.  Whenever there is a musical set-piece –and full marks to Jeremy Hutton, Kristen Zaza and anyone onstage during these magical moments—the piece comes fully alive.  In the oath-swearing, in the funeral for Ophelia, in the fight sequence, Santalucia does well with his management of people onstage.

Alan Shonfield, Dan Mousseau and Dylan Evans

Alan Shonfield, Dan Mousseau and Dylan Evans

I don’t think I’ve ever liked Rosenkrantz & Guildenstern quite so much, the nerdy pair of Alan Shonfield and Dylan Evans, moody, conspiratorial, creepy.  Nate Bitton gave us the different facets of Laertes –as the likeable and loving brother, fierce avenger, and eventually the one to validate Hamlet in the final scene’s reconciliation.  Cameron Johnston gave us an interesting pairing, as the ghost and his brother Claudius, chanelling something a bit like Stephen Harper in his bland friendliness (did I make you shiver at the thought?).  Annemieke Wade’s Gertrude is a sympathetic mother, very powerful in the big closet scene with her son.  Thomas Gough hits the right notes as Polonius.  Sheelagh Daly’s Ophelia,  once given centre stage knew how to take advantage beautifully.  Eric Finlayson was as likeable a Horatio as one could ask, while Andrei Preda’s Gravedigger energized the show just when it needed it.

In the end you will be moved.  “Let the audience look to their eyes.”

Hamlet continues until Nov 21st.

Posted in Dance, theatre & musicals, Reviews, University life | 2 Comments

Honeymoon or Shotgun Wedding?

Posted on November 5, 2015 by barczablog

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, right, goes face-to-face with Finance Minister Bill Morneau at Rideau Hall in Ottawa on Nov. 4, 2015. (Sean Kilpatrick/Canadian Press)

If you are a Torontonian, no one can rain on this parade. The swearing in of the Trudeau Cabinet had the kind of breathless following of a Royal Wedding.

Can you say “honeymoon”?

Don’t get me wrong.  I was in Trudeau’s corner way back when he was fighting Brazeau (not literally… a supporter, not a handler or anything), even before the “not ready” attack ads.  I am delighted as the next Liberal supporter.

But recent experience watching the Blue Jays persuades me to be skeptical of the discourse.  This is another bandwagon, and people will be leaping off before too long, and that’s fine.  Democracy requires that. In fact right now it’s not a even a conversation, anymore than the screaming cheers in a bar when the red light comes on can be mistaken for critical thought.

I just had a thought, though.  Toronto? we love the Liberals, and but for the aberration of 2011, rarely let a Conservative represent us, although a few ridings have been hard-core NDP supporters.  So yes, we are in a honeymoon in Toronto. You can tell, when even a Conservative-owned media outlet like CP24 gets onboard.

But lest we forget.  Stephen Harper won a majority with roughly 40% of the vote. As Liberal & NDP supporters were wont to say: “60% voted against him”!

And now, Trudeau is having his honeymoon with Ontarians (and you can see that he gets this, in the number of ministers from Ontario, his true heartland). And this is true for anyone / any place that voted for him.

The other 60%? are they having a honeymoon, or is it perhaps a shotgun wedding? i know that my NDP supporting friends seem kind of irritated that Trudeau has done all these activist things –promising to bring 25000 refugees by the end of 2015, the gender parity in the cabinet, the deficit spending– that used to be the hallmark of the NDP.  Will they be won over?  I think it’s possible, as some of these people are strategic voters who were simply seeking to avoid another Harper term.

The Conservatives surely are waiting.  While they might have felt that their own party was snatched in the night and was replaced by a Reform changeling that they no longer recognize as “conservative”, at least of the old progressive populist style, they’re waiting. They’ll see what becomes of their party. They’ll see what becomes of the liberal promises.

I am reminded of the high hopes when Obama arrived in power, when the energy was also largely the energy of revulsion for the previous regime. Yes Obama was better, but how long can you let that sustain you? And similarly, how long can one smile at the thought of Trudeau replacing Harper?

If the economy does a big downturn, if the credit bubble bursts? We may discover it’s been a short romance.  In the meantime, enjoy the warm sunny glow.

Posted in Personal ruminations & essays, Politics | 2 Comments

10 Questions for Matthew Jocelyn

Posted on November 4, 2015 by barczablog

If you were to read Matthew Jocelyn’s biography on the Canadian Stage website you might be surprised.

Originally from Toronto and later based in France, Jocelyn is an internationally acclaimed producer and director of theatre, dance and opera as well as arts administrator and educator. He was the Artistic and General Director of the Atelier du Rhin in Alsace, France for 10 years. Under his leadership, he was responsible for establishing the organization as a major centre for theatre, opera and contemporary dance – the only multi-disciplinary artistic centre of its kind in France. In addition to his administrative and financial roles, he directed a number of productions at the Atelier du Rhin. As a result of his accomplishments, he was named Chevalier des Art et des Lettres (Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters), by the French Ministry of Culture in July 2008, one of the country’s most prestigious arts honours.

His professional credits also include: founding Théâtre de l’Autre Rive and Théâtre Des-Hérités in Paris; directing theatre, dance and opera in Europe’s most revered venues; guest director at Canada’s Stratford Shakespeare Festival where he received critical acclaim for the direction of Pierre Corneille’s The Liar (Le menteur) in 2006; developing and directing original plays, operas and translations in Canada, Switzerland, France, Germany and Brussels; and teaching at the University of Toronto, the American University of Paris, the Université de Toulouse-le Mirail and the Conservatoire National Supérieure d’Art Dramatique in Paris. He was appointed Artistic & General Director of Canadian Stage in February 2009.

We’ve seen a wonderful array of multi-disciplinary productions from Matthew Jocelyn, from brilliant talents such as Crystal Pite / Kidd Pivot and Robert Lepage. And yet it’s only now that we’ll have an opportunity to see Jocelyn direct an opera in Canada. Perhaps his biggest priority was in establishing & strengthening the company, building support before undertaking a modern opera. Jocelyn will direct a production of Phillippe Boesmans’ 2005 opera Julie, a collaboration between Canadian Stage and Soundstreams to be presented Nov 17-29 at the Bluma Appel Theatre.

I asked Jocelyn ten questions: five about himself and five about Julie.

1-Are you more like your father or your mother?

I’m more like my mother. We share the same nose.

I’d say both my parents were great influences on my life. My mother, because she was extremely non-judgmental and very free in her attitudes as to what people could do or be. And my father, well, because at heart he was an artist.

Director Matthew Jocelyn

Matthew Jocelyn (photo: V Tony Hauser)

2-What is the best or worst thing about being a director?

The best thing about being a director, especially an opera director, are those moments in the rehearsal room with only a pianist and two or three singers performing for you; they crack something which creates a moment of truth for a character, which gives meaning to the music. It makes them sing what they’re singing that much better. It’s an incredibly fulfilling experience, being in a rehearsal room with singers.

The worst thing is when you’re not able to communicate an idea in a way that is helpful to the artist you’re working with, when you sense something that’s essential but aren’t able to find the words or the means through which to convey the message.

3- Who do you like to listen to or watch?

I love to listen to Bach. I love to listen to Melissa Laveaux… Annie DiFranco, to Carmel (Carmel always makes me dance).

And I love to watch really good Italian cinema.

4- What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?

I wish that I could play the piano. I wish I spoke ten languages. I wish I could stop wishing that I could do things I can’t.

5- When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?

To hike by the ocean.

*******

Five more about Matthew Jocelyn and Julie

1-Please talk about how you reconcile the different sides of yourself, as you function as a director of the show, where you are also artistic director of the company.

I would like to think that my work as an Artistic Director is a reflection of both the ethical and aesthetic considerations that I bring to my work as a director, and vice versa. So that really, they reinforce each other more than anything else. Luckily, I am surrounded by a team of people that are capable of holding the theatre afloat when I’m in the rehearsal room.

I would add that I think it’s essential for both the team and the company and for the audiences at Canadian Stage, to understand that my perspective is always one of a working artist. I’m always very conscious of the artistry and the nitty-gritty of the craftsmanship that goes into the various projects that we decide to support and collaborate on.

2- You’ve directed Julie before in Europe. Tell us about this opera and why you wanted to bring it here, your first directorial project of an opera in Toronto.

Director Matthew Jocelyn and Composer Phillipe Boesmans (photo: ©Isabelle Françaix)

Director Matthew Jocelyn and Composer Phillipe Boesmans (photo: Isabelle Françaix)

Julie is an absolute masterpiece of a chamber opera. Philippe Boesmans is without question, for me, the most important opera composer in the world today. So the opportunity of doing one of his operas in association with Soundstreams, a company I greatly admire, was an exceptional one.

Philippe is also a very close friend that I’ve been collaborating with for more than 10 years, so it was an opportunity to continue to strengthen our artistic ties.

This production was performed in over a dozen theatres in France, Belgium and Switzerland, which shows the appetite the audiences have for this work.

3- Talk about why you place such a high importance on multi-disciplinary work in your offerings at Canadian Stage.

The Tempest Replica, presented at Canadian Stage by Kidd Pivot in May 2014 (Photo by Jorg Baumann)

What I place a huge importance on is the vocabulary that today’s artists are using in order to recount the world. It so happens that some of the most exciting artists – Crystal Pite, Michèle Anne de Mey, Jaco Van Dormael or Robert Lepage, Stan Douglas – are crossing over the disciplines. Because we are a contemporary performing arts company, what I’m really interested in are the most cutting edge artists and what their languages are.

I didn’t set out to say: “it’s got to be pluridisciplinary.” Many artists no longer feel restricted to simply being theatre makers, dance makers, or music makers in order to recount their worlds; they themselves cross over the boundaries. That’s what we want to share with the audiences.

4-Will we see more opera, whether directed by you or someone else, at Canadian Stage?

I hope we continue to see work that is relevant and fresh, and artistically demanding. If that includes opera, then fantastic! It would have to be chamber opera because there is no other conduit in this city doing this kind of work.

5- Is there a teacher or influence you’d care to name that you especially admire?

I’ve had a huge number of influences in my life. In learning my practice, the three people that had the biggest influence on me as a director were Patrice Chéreau, Mathias Langhoff and Jonathan Miller, all of whom I had the great honour of working with at some point.

I’ve been lucky enough to work with exceptionally talented and demanding artists and to see the work of hundreds of exceptional creators, like Philippe. All of that filters through somehow.

*******

Philippe Boesmans’ Julie will be presented November 17-29, a co-production of Soundstreams and Canadian Stage, directed by Matthew Jocelyn at the Bluma Appel Theatre.

Posted in Interviews | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Mezzo madness at the COC Ensemble Studio Competition

Posted on November 4, 2015 by barczablog

Centre Stage 2015, the Canadian Opera Company’s ensemble competition gala, was a celebration of Canada & Canadian talent. Co-hosted by two former winners, we were treated to both official languages, thanks to Karine Boucher’s exquisite French pronunciation as a charming extra in her partnership with Charles Sy, and a visit from the Lieutenant-Governor herself, Elizabeth Dowdeswell. As a further showcase of domestic talent we were treated to wonderful performances from Andrew Haji & Joyce El-Khoury.

We knew it had to be different from last year, when three men (two tenors & a baritone) won the three prizes at the 2014 Centre Stage competition. If the Ensemble Studio was not to become totally unbalanced we couldn’t have the same sort of results.

A big clue as to what was to come?  the list of the eight finalists.

  • Four of the finalists were mezzo-sopranos
  • Two were sopranos
  • Two were baritones

….and no tenors!

I picked up one obvious clue –no tenors—while missing the even more obvious clue, that half the finalists were mezzo-sopranos. All that was missing was a banner saying “welcome mezzo-sopranos!” perhaps with an apology as well.

And so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that first & second place went to mezzo-sopranos. First place went to mezzo Emily D’Angelo, while second place went to mezzo Lauren Eberwein. D’Angelo, a University of Toronto alumna, was a popular winner with the crowd, who also picked her as the audience favourite.

In a season when we finally see a Canadian composer’s opera grace the stage, it’s a feather in the general director’s cap. Alexander Neef has much to be proud of, along with conductor Johannes Debus leading the COC orchestra. The evening felt like a genuine celebration.

COC Music Director Johannes Debus and COC General Director Alexander Neef. (Photo: bohuang.ca)

COC Music Director Johannes Debus and COC General Director Alexander Neef. (Photo: bohuang.ca)

Posted in Music and musicology, Opera | Tagged , | Leave a comment