The calendar reminds us of the relationship of our society and religion. This week is one of those times of year when people may make their only annual visit to a church or synagogue, while those who are regular attendees or church musicians are expected (or required) to show up more than usual.
While religion is just a shadow of its formerly influential self (setting aside the states ruled by fundamentalists), it has left vestiges scattered through our lives, in the oaths we swear in court, the promises we make when we get married, and the ways we say goodbye to loved ones who have passed away.
Director Joel Ivany
Today, in the middle of Holy Week I was present for an experiment, a semi-staged version of Mozart’s Requiem directed by Joel Ivany, at Canadian Stage’s Rehearsal Room. I feel lucky and privileged to have been present to see something Ivany called a workshop presentation of Mozart’s Requiem that he’ll be doing with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra next January. Next year’s Requiem will employ an orchestra of sixty players or so, with a chorus of forty singers or so inside Roy Thomson Hall. For the workshop, however, Ivany employed eight soloists –that is, the usual complement of four vocal soloists (soprano Ambur Braid, alto Rihab Chaieb, tenor Chris Enns and bass Aaron Durand), plus another four to sing the respective sections of the chorus (soprano Meher Pavri, alto Danielle MacMillan, tenor Joshua Wales and bass James Michael Baldwin) —with a single pianist (Jenna Douglas) all conducted by Robert Cooper.
Unlike your usual Requiem, where singers are formally attired, stiffly standing with scores in black folders, this was an exploration of something different, befitting Ivany’s description of a “workshop presentation”. As with the Against the Grain Messiah presented in December 2013, the singers moved and inter-acted, having memorized their music. While that occasion included a choreographic component as well, that might seem inappropriate here, considering the subject; I suppose I’m contrasting the celebratory aspect of Messiah with the fundamentally mournful character of a Requiem.
The question I posed in the headline is a fundamentally dramaturgical one. Recognizing that performance is a process for performers and for the auditor, how does it work and what is the effect, or in other words “what does this Requiem do”?
The experiment can be understood in several contexts.
One can look at Mozart’s original and ask fundamentally what that work does, even before one decides on an approach. Does it mourn, does it celebrate, and how does one reconcile the prayerful with the performative aspect: the fact that soloists seem to be addressing God, at times in prayer even as the singing unavoidably shows off their abilities. Does one choose to embrace the virtuoso element (an approach that is very much out of fashion for the past half century or so), or seek to subsume that element in a pure portrayal of the textual / prayer element (as this workshop indeed seemed to prefer to do)?
What does the Latin text supply, whether we come to it as existing before Mozart or if we attempt to bring it into our own much more secular time? How do we reconcile ourselves to the questions of mortality & mourning, and what part do they have in our lives? Will it be a specialized ritual set off from our normal life –and that’s what we get when we dress in black, and assume specialized language & posture—or somehow normalized? How much mourning can we even handle?
What does it imply that the singers are dressed informally, in fact very much the way I was dressed having come from a normal Wednesday? At one time church was a place every bit as formal of dress as the concert hall, and still a place where I am uncomfortable attending without dressing nicely. Is this a deconstruction –of Requiem and of the rituals of mourning—or simply a more normal way of embracing death and its emblems, without stiffness and possibly with more emotional authenticity?
The work is in several movements, segmented as per the text (eg the Offertory, Sanctus or Agnus Dei), yet there appear to be portrayals and interactions, emotions expressed that may or may not arise from the text. There were some very emotional moments for cast that seemed to continue straight through from one segment to the next, even though the music comes to a full stop, the text implying a new thought. The movements & inter-actions appear to be motivated by the preparation that Ivany gave his cast, exploring the themes of a Requiem, of loss & mortality.
I found that with the Against the Grain Messiah my momentary resistance melted in the presence of a compelling musical performance, in the pleasure of a whole new way of seeing a familiar work. Similar feelings & thoughts were with me this time, even though we were in the presence of something darker, and still wonderfully dynamic and unfinished. There are clearly unexplored possibilities that Ivany likely will explore in future interpretations / incarnations. I don’t pretend to understand it –what it’s doing, what it aims to do, what it means–but then again I’m a bit overpowered by the intensity of it, and I say that in the spirit of having my senses filled to overflowing.
The performance today in this little space with an audience of roughly sixty was very special, with possibilities for intimate communication that can’t happen in the bigger space with the larger forces, although the trade-off of the chamber approach is in sacrificing the possibilities for the wallop of big climaxes from a full orchestra & chorus. I can’t help wondering how it will work with the TSO, a forty-member chorus, conducted by Bernard Labadie and in Roy Thomson Hall, which seats roughly 2,000.
Concert performances of opera can be a wonderful alternative considering the expense of fully staged productions. Works that would otherwise rarely see the light of day –such as Rossini’s William Tell (hard to sing) or Benjamin’s Written on Skin (recently composed) —are more likely to be produced in this slightly reduced way. The format usually represents a trade-off, as some aspects of the ideal version are compromised. Without set, costumes or much in the way of spectacle, the focus shifts to the musical side of the equation. For those who are leery of directorial interventions it’s a good thing, allowing one to be certain that the singing will be foregrounded.
The Toronto company Opera In Concert have been offering rarities for over 40 years. Last year for example, they produced Rameau’s Hippolyte et Aricie, Verdi’s Stiffelio and Britten’s Gloriana. This afternoon I heard their production of Charpentier’s Louise. Although the cast is one of the biggest ever seen in an Opera in Concert show, with roughly twenty different solo parts (there’s one reason it’s a rarity), at its core the plot is a kind of love triangle, between Louise’s overprotective father and her lover Julien. The scenes involving the four key characters (Father, Mother, Louise and Julien) were the most successful, but that’s not surprising. Concert performances may have an ambitious artist or two as their raison d‘être, whether in a singer trying out a role or perhaps even taking their first tentative steps with a new vocal type. With an opera such as Louise it’s an especially precious opportunity, given that
a singer learning a role usually hopes that the effort in preparing the role is rewarded with future chances to sing the role; that can’t happen if the role is a rarity such as Louise
because it’s a single performance chances are the singers can really give their all, because they don’t have to save themselves the way they do in a longer run
and of course, there’s the rarity (the opera) itself
Peter Tiefenbach made an excellent case for Charpentier’s score from his piano. Any Opera in Concert music-director is conflicted between his support of the singers & his need to make his own musical statement. Tiefenbach’s playing was beautiful throughout, keeping a good pace throughout in a reading that was very tight, especially in the crowd scenes.
Soprano Leslie Ann Bradley (photo: Lisa-Marie Mazzucco )
Unlikely as it may be, I hope Leslie Ann Bradley gets a chance to play the part of Louise again. It’s a role that’s usually a vehicle for a star such as Renée Fleming, given that a production would be built around a diva who could fill seats. Yet the way Fleming sings the big aria “depuis le jour” on her CD –not so different from the way Maria Callas sings it—suggests that this opera is ruined by being handed to stars, particularly considering that Louise is supposed to be young, her aria a celebration of the first days of a first love. When Fleming sings “je suis heureuse” it’s precious and phony, given that the moment calls for a sense of sensual abandon. Bradley? She sang the aria at a quicker pace than Fleming, reflecting both passion and youth. Her diction throughout –not just in the aria but at every moment—was crisp and clear. Her command of the role was so secure that one could simply get lost in her performance, the most accomplished singing I’ve heard at an Opera in Concert performance in a very long time.
Dion Mazerolle and Michèle Bogdanowicz were Louise’s Father and Mother. We watch the characters change over the course of the opera, the Father becoming more unhappy, objecting to his daughter’s new love, while the Mother in some respects seems to moderate, becoming the mediator between Father and daughter. Bogdanowicz sounded great, in a very understated reading, while Mazerolle showed off his wonderful top notes in his dramatic scenes after the interval. Julien was assumed by Keith Klassen, the third person announced in a role after two other tenors worked on it. It seems to be a very challenging role and seems to lie quite high, so I’m grateful to Klassen for giving us a demonstration of Charpentier’s writing; we couldn’t expect the same exquisite chemistry with Klassen as between the other three, considering how recently he undertook the role.
Opera in Concert return in November with Borodin’s Prince Igor.
The concept was discovered almost by accident. At a Christmas Party a few years ago, members of La Nef attempted to play the music of John Dowland as though he were Irish. It turns out that there’s evidence that Dowland may have been an Irishman, and that the experiment could have been the authentic sound of the composer.
click for information about the CD
That’s the basis for the 2012 CD “Dowland in Dublin”, a series of songs. Some are instrumentals, some are sung by Michael Slattery in collaboration with La Nef, arrangements by Seán Dagher, Sylvain Bergeron and Slattery. I was thrilled when I heard that the Toronto Consort were bringing “Dowland in Dublin” –meaning La Nef & Slattery in concert –to Toronto: tonight at the Trinity St Paul’s Centre.
The numbers alternate between instrumentals and vocals, between syncopated dance tunes and more introspective songs such as “His Golden Locks”, a meditation upon our mortality where Slatter accompanies himself on a shruti box (an Indian instrument that by a curious coincidence makes sounds resembling a bagpipe, and therefore seems apt).
The song (which you can see and hear Slattery perform in this video, but minus La Nef) concludes with these lines:
Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen; Duty, faith, love are roots and ever green.
Lovely as the CD is, the live performance is a huge thrill, as we can see them improvise, and we recognize that the music will be a bit different when they offer this concert on Saturday night. Sylvain Bergeron’s lute playing is sometimes whisper soft, sometimes a bigger sound, but always seeming to emerge as fresh as the expressions on Bergeron’s face. Seán Dagher on the cittern underpins everything, both with the steady throb of his playing, or with the stomp of his feet, his strumming attack resembling the percussion section. Alex Kehler plays violin –in a characteristic early-music style minus the vibrato—often lending a wonderfully celtic sound to the melodies, as does Amanda Keesmaat from her cello. And Grégoire Jeay on flute or recorder had the ability to put a smile on every face in the hall, especially in the triptych of Kemp’s Jig /Mistress Winter’s Jump / My Lady Hunsdon’s Puffe.
I’ve never heard anyone make this music sound so fresh, so alive. At one moment –during “Say Love if Ever Thou Didst Find”—I swear I thought I was listening to Led Zeppelin, given that we were in exactly the same key (a minor) as “Stairway to Heaven” with similar sonorities in play, while Jeay played his recorder alongside Bergeron’s Lute. That back and forth between A minor and D roughly 45 seconds in reminds me of Zeppelin. Now that may sound odd to mention, but although we were in Toronto’s temple of early music –the home to both Tafelmusik & the Toronto Consort, complete with a welcome introduction at the beginning from David Fallis–the concert’s mood was altogether different. We could have been in a pub given the absence of pretentiousness in the music-making. Accomplished as the players were, this was a very relaxed affair.
The majority of the songs concern love. Slattery is in the moment throughout, La Nef seeming to invest each song with the impression of having invented their response on the spot, played perfectly but always seeming freshly conceived, with an electricity in the eye contact between each of them. The live performance is better than the CD, different every time.
We would have closed with “Now, O Now I Needs Must Part”—did Dowland ever use it to close his gigs I wonder?—were it not for their generous response to our applause, namely the encore “Come Again”. Slattery opens slow & soft in the first verse alone with his shruti box, joined by the ensemble for faster subsequent verses. It’s a microcosm of the concert, from the soft beginning to Bergeron’s concluding strum on his lute.
Slattery & La Nef are on to their next project which hopefully will bear fruit soon. In the meantime there’s another chance to hear “Dowland in Dublin” Saturday night here in Toronto. I suppose i am a bit hesitant because i’ve written so much already about Slattery & La Nef, but i have to say that this was a wonderful concert, that the playing is hypnotic, beautiful, and the singing as lovely as anything i’ve ever heard.
I’ve been listening to Dowland in Dublin, Michael Slattery’s collaboration with La Nef, for a few years now. I was lucky that someone brought it to my attention. Since that time it’s been a regular feature on the CD player in my car.
While playing it for a friend the other day, there was a wonderful moment of recognition.
I had been trying to put my finger on the quality in Slattery’s voice, as he sings ”Come Again”.
Come again! sweet love doth now invite
Thy graces that refrain
To do me due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,
With thee again in sweetest sympathy.
The youtube clip–unlike the CD– is a live performance, please note. Slattery makes lovely sounds, using his voice in the usual ways throughout.
But Slattery sounds different on the CD Dowland in Dublin. At first listen it might sound like a bad thing..!? It’s unconventional and daring. I was observing that as Slattery sang the phrase “to die” he sounds totally vulnerable, reminding us of the two meanings of the word “die”: both mortality and consummation. He sounds as though he is dying in every sense, abandoning himself to the note not like an opera singer but sounding for all the world, like a boy, like a vulnerable human, unmanned by his orgasmic passion. It’s wonderfully expressive.
Vocal pedagogue Carol Baggott-Forte
In fact the sound –the one on the recording that is– is falsetto. My friend pointed this out, invoking our mutual vocal authority, Carol Baggott-Forte. When you’re learning with Carol she uses the techniques of Cornelius Reid, who wrote –among other books—The Free Voice. There’s a falsetto sound you’re encouraged to make, isolating one of the two registers. It’s not a sophisticated sound, oh no. In fact it’s a sound unlike that of professional singers, a very strange sound for a singer. This is not the sound in the youtube clip –where he’s singing full voice, in a live performance—but on the CD, we get a different sound. Slattery has the nerve to use this odd sound, a wonderfully brave & expressive approach at the perfect time.
Slattery is a very skilful performer, employing several different sounds, combining his registers cleverly. I’m looking forward to hearing him live for the first time Friday at the first of two concerts by Slattery & La Nef with the Toronto Consort at Trinity St Paul’s Centre.
Gallery attractions are sometimes from a permanent collection, sometimes brought in from elsewhere. When you visit the National Gallery in Ottawa next month you’ll be able to see the Alex Colville show that was seen in Toronto at the AGO last year.
But currently the attractions I found most impressive at the National Gallery actually come from their permanent collection. They own such a large number of pieces by MC Escher—the third largest collection of his work in the world—that they were able to assemble a big show from among those pieces. Escher is the draw right now, being a famous artist with a big sign on the outside of the gallery. As your typical baby-boomer, I believe I’ve been staring at Escher for most of my life. It’s a thrill to see so many images that I’d once owned as reproductions on my wall in the dim & distant past. His craftsmanship is impressive, his eye frighteningly astute.
One of the odd correlations that likely doesn’t mean anything was to walk into a room with the following:
A brief essay on the wall talking about the influence on Escher of a visit to the Alhambra Palace, where the Islamic tiles were organized in repeating geometric patterns. The word that came to mind was “arabesque” even if this wasn’t precisely what we saw.
But then we saw “Sky and Water I”, which indeed suggests arabesques.
And then we come to a picture called “The Drowned Cathedral”. If you look closely you see that the bells in the cathedral are moving.
I might be the only person making this correlation: that Claude Debussy not only wrote a pair of pieces titled “Arabesque” (#1 and #2 that is), but spoke of the arabesque patterns in musical scores of others (for instance JS Bach). And of course he would then write a piece of music called “The Drowned Cathedral”, aka “Le Cathedral Engloutie”. Presumably Escher and Debussy were familiar with the same legend.
Maybe it’s just a fluke, a coincidence of no real significance. But there are books written about Debussy and design. Roy Howat’s Debussy in Proportion presents the hypothesis that Debussy’s music is organized on the page according to strict principles of proportionality: not unlike what Escher did.
The page of the score is beautiful, no? Compositions can look good on the page, but perhaps none more so than Debussy’s.
I have no revelations to add, only that it is interesting to see that coincidence, between the arabesque perfection of Escher & Debussy, AND that they both created works celebrating the legend of the drowned cathedral. Debussy was a symbolist, and maybe Escher too responded to symbolist influences, considering the philosophical implications of his works (a whole other matter worthy of detailed investigation). Escher being the later artist (Debussy dying in 1917, Escher in 1972) maybe it’s as simple as a matter of influence. Perhaps the artist was influenced by the composer..? But more likely, they were a pair of artists influenced by a cultural current.
Famous as Escher may be, I was surprised to find something unexpected and powerful lurking around a corner in the gallery. You walk into the room where Geoffrey Farmer’s 2012 work “Leaves of Grass” is assembled, and you will be amazed. I was reminded of the first couple of times I saw that sequence in Gone With the Wind when Scarlett goes looking for the doctor at the Atlanta train station, and the camera pulls out upon an immense scene of casualties lying, waiting for someone.
No I don’t mean that Farmer’s piece is tragic or sad. But –as in the film—you don’t immediately understand the scale of what you’re looking at. Hugeness is sometimes incomprehensible.
As it began to dawn on me that I was looking at something immense, I struggled to quantify it. We’re looking at a two sided installation of many photos mounted on bamboo. The notes on the wall say over 16,000 photos from over 900 magazines. I quickly paced a small part of the floor –as the piece sits on a table that’s in regular segments—and concluded that the piece sits on a table that has 31 segments, each roughly four feet in length. So in other words we’re in the presence of a piece of art that’s 120 feet long, on two sides of this large assembly. The picture included can only suggest some of that process, where we are confronted with so many images and such a sense of immensity. The best way to really grasp this –including the disorienting struggle that likely begins your orientation to the work– is to experience it in person. More than any art work I’ve seen recently it requires the human experience of the piece, as this cumulative effect can’t be understood in any virtual reproduction such as a book.
You walk along this two-sided wall, picking out images that are recognizable alongside those that are not. We’re told it’s an assembly of the period between 1935 and 1985 in chronological order. At the bottom, the images are smaller, while at the top, they’re bigger. We’re looking at people and objects. There are a great many cameras on display, typewriters, cars, and other products, presumably from the ads in the magazine. We see the iconic people of that time –movie-stars and singers and politicians—and the products sold to pay for the magazines. There’s so much there, that one can’t possibly grasp it all in one visit. It’s epic, truly massive in the same way as that scene in Gone With the Wind, but much more ambiguous and variegated.
Purchased by the gallery, “Leaves of Grass” is part of the permanent collection and hopefully will stay on display. I will revisit the piece next time I am there. I urge you to check it out too.
And in passing, i couldn’t help noticing how much the National Gallery’s architecture is itself like a reminder of Escher–almost a meditation upon geometric design– making the building a wonderfully suggestive home for his work.
Kevin Mallon, Interim Artistic Director & Conductor with Opera Lyra
As the climax of their thirtieth season Opera Lyra present Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro, beginning with tonight’s opening performance. This is an opera company that has come back from the brink, bouncing back from financial difficulty with a series of smart productions. Kevin Mallon is the Interim Artistic Director as well as the conductor.
I had to go to Ottawa to see & hear for myself, hopeful that the company was rising again under Mallon’s clever influence, and yes, enticed by the casting, which was almost 100% Canadian.
I have to quote James Westman from a recent interview:
We have a massive tradition of opera in Canada. It stems from the profound tutelage of the University of Toronto Opera School that was created from talented Italian opera ‘refugees’ after WW2. Most people do not realize that Canada produces more professional opera singers per capita than any other country in the word. Canadian singers have been representing Canada with excellence for many years.
For example, this afternoon’s Met broadcast of Manon featured three Canadians (Russell Braun, Robert Pomakov and Mireille Asselin). Our talent goes all over the world, so why not in Ottawa?
As you may have read in some of the other pieces I’ve posted recently in anticipation of my trip to Ottawa (such as interviews with Westman and John Brancy as well as a piece showing photos of the cast), the design concept of the production set Mozart’s opera in the period of Downton Abbey, aka Edwardian England. And so for instance when Dr Bartolo will usually sing his aria “la vendetta”, including the lines “all Seville knows me, I’m Doctor Bartolo”, in this version that becomes “all England knows me, I’m Doctor Bartolo”. Or when Cherubino is given a commission by the Count to join his regiment, the uniform is from that time.
I can give you several reasons why you should see it, starting with the simple fact that it’s a good production. Director Tom Diamond grounds the action in real motivations, making the interactions sometimes very serious and intense, even if there’s lots of fun to be had. A few moments might illustrate why it’s so special, from a cast that’s strong from top to bottom.
I was caught by surprise watching the moment in a sextet in the third act when Susanna is told that Marcellina is Figaro’s mother, and Bartolo his father. I’ve seen this so many times I didn’t think I could be surprised, especially in a production that’s ostensibly faithful to the text. Sasha Djihanian in her role debut as Susanna did something quite different from what one usually sees. Marcellina (Lynne McMurtry) wants to embrace Susanna as her mother (having just realized the family relationship with Figaro, Susanna’s intended), leading to an exchange that can get quite silly, as Susanna says “sua madre?” (or “his mother”), Bartolo, the Count, Don Curzio and Marcellina reply “sua madre” then she asks Figaro “sua madre?” to which he replies “E quello è mio padre che a te lo dirà.” (or “and this is my father he’ll tell you himself”). The back and forth is already mechanically challenging, so that it can (and often does) become quite wooden in some productions. What I saw this time that was so different was that Djihanian sustained the puzzlement for the entire exchange, while the questions shot back and forth, showing much more truthfulness in this exchange than I’ve ever seen, while building simple suspense, making the resolution of the ensemble into a moment of great pathos and vulnerability.
Djihanian, who’s just finished her run as Zerlina in the Tcherniakov Don Giovanni in Toronto, was taking on this role for the first time, with a beautifully expressive face and natural unaffected delivery, completely believable as the figure at the centre of the story.
Her Figaro was John Brancy, a warm baritone whose friendly manner keeps the story light & funny, without too much emphasis on class struggle. Similarly, James Westman’s Count, while an imposing physical presence (my wife said he reminded her of “Big” from the TV show Sex and the City) with a wonderful voice also chose to emphasize the comical side of the story. Westman’s reading interpolated a great number of high notes into his da capo verses, apparently drawing on suggestions from authentic sources suggested by conductor Mallon. His Countess was Nathalie Paulin, who balanced the light-hearted elements of the show with depth in her arias lamenting the passing of love in her relationship.
The other key role in the opera is Wallis Giunta’s Cherubino. We’d already seen her remarkable trouser performance in La Clemenza di Tito of a few years ago when she channelled Michael Cera. This was entirely different, sung with great authority & confidence, while played with a physical flamboyance that made her every appearance an occasion for laughs, the one you couldn’t help watching.
But there were several more excellent portrayals. Peter McGillivray was his usual talented self, singing perfectly as Bartolo while having several sparkling comic moments. Lynne McMurtry, whom I already mentioned, was a three-dimensional Marcellina, including the rarely performed Act IV aria. Johane Ansell made more of the small role of Barbarina than anyone I’ve ever seen, including a compelling reading of the aria that opens Act IV. Aaron Ferguson made the most of his two roles as Basilio and Don Curzio. And Sean Watson was a surprisingly strong Antonio.
Mallon’s reading was energetic for the most part, bringing the opera home in a very respectable three hours with an intermission, his cast decorating their parts with many attractive interpolations. The National Arts Centre Orchestra are a wonderful ensemble who sounded superb in this space. Diamond’s Figaro is completely straight-forward and without any directorial overlays, and totally intelligible while avoiding cheap laughs, always grounded in the feelings of the story.
Opera Lyra’s Le nozze di Figaro runs until March 28th.
*******
As a postscript there was a joyful announcement at the post-opening reception that drew a huge scream of joy from all present when it was announced that John Brancy (Figaro) and Wallis Giunta (Cherubino) are now engaged to be married. Mazel Tov!
Everything about the presentation of Bach’s St John Passion by Tafelmusik Baroque Choir & orchestra at Trinity St Paul’s Centre seemed fitting.
You are in a church. The space has been somewhat converted for the use of the offspring of this congregation such as the Toronto Consort (whose artistic director David Fallis is or was a member of the congregation) and Tafelmusik (whose bass player & concert conceptualizer Alison MacKay –Fallis’ partner– also has connections to the church), yet is still very much a church. The colossal pipes confront you as you enter, the hymn numbers still posted. Even when the place is full as it was tonight, it’s never secular.
The approach is meant to take us back to 1749, using a version from late in Bach’s life. In Bach’s time the soloists would also sing the choruses: and so they (soprano Julia Doyle, countertenor Daniel Taylor, tenor Charles Daniels and baritone Peter Harvey) did just that, placed upstage of the tiny orchestra (sixteen players), but just in front of the small chorus (twenty-two voices). Ivars Taurins conducted the choruses with his usual exuberant plastic eloquence, but allowed arias to proceed more or less via the dramatic exchange of glances rather than his intervention.
For something taking two and a half hours, with a brief intermission, it flew by, taut and urgent from beginning to end. For anyone who thinks they know this piece, I urge you to attend if at all possible (continuing until Sunday March 22), as this is not the work I thought I knew. I coached a tenor long ago –indeed he was a COC ensemble member—in the role of the Evangelist, who has a very large part. It’s brand new to me in this account, particularly because of the elegance of Charles Daniels’ subtle reading of that crucial role.
Tenor Charles Daniels (click for the Charles Daniels Society. I share their enthusiasm!)
Two of his arias are especially challenging. “Ach, mein Sinn” requires a phenomenal command of the words, a delicacy of delivery, flexibility, a willingness to trip lightly over some notes while agonizingly declaiming others. Daniels sang it very lightly, very easily, a work of great drama precisely because he wasn’t over-working the voice or over-dramatizing. I was very much in awe. The second aria was more of the same even if it’s not quite as daunting, namely “Mein Jesu, ach!”, another subtle combination of emotions in one brief little package. Daniels’ performance alone is reason to go see this wonderful work. Don’t mistake me, while the other soloists were also good, their parts combined are roughly as long as the part of the Evangelist. AND Daniels also sang the choruses. Peter Harvey was a warm sounding baritone, particularly as Jesus, while Julia Doyle’s soprano and Daniel Taylor, countertenor, each had wonderful solos.
Tafelmusik chorus & orchestra are among the greatest treasures of this city, especially on the nights when Taurins is conducting: a musician of great commitment & integrity. This is a performance that does not dishonour the church nor the Christian origins of the story by being overly operatic or performative, entirely suitable for your Lenten meditations.
Tafelmusik Chamber Choir, directed by Ivars Taurins (left foreground). Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann
A young baritone who genuinely seems to be on the verge of an exciting career. I’ve never seen him in person, just through the miracle of modern technology. He’s more than just a pretty voice & a handsome face.
And here’s another example of that voice.
In a season with the title role in a new opera (Tobias Picker’s Fantastic Mr. Fox), and Papageno with Edmonton Opera, his next stop is with Opera Lyra Ottawa as Figaro in Le nozze di Figaro. On the occasion of his “wedding” in Ottawa this weekend, I ask him ten questions: five about himself and five more about portraying Figaro.
1-Are you more like your father or your mother?
Well – I have to say I am more like my mother than my father when it comes to being a performer, but the way I live my everyday life tends to be a bit more like my father now that I think of it. As a performer, I am outgoing and charismatic – I get along with just about everyone and really enjoy being up on stage. I also have a great ability to make and keep friends (I am still in regular contact with a lot of my childhood friends – I even run a snack food company with two of them!) and this is definitely an aspect about me that has been passed down from my mom. But as I’ve gotten older I find that when it comes to work and dedication to my craft, my father really begins to shine through. My Dad is a pilot, so in a sense he had to perform at an extremely high level as well as be very dedicated and organized to make the most of his job. At the end – I’m probably just an even mix of both, but who knows who I’ll be more like when I have kids!
2-What is the best thing or worst thing about being an opera singer?
Best thing about being an opera singer for me is two things -1. Getting the chance to perform for a living and be paid for something I absolutely LOVE to do and 2. Seeing the world through a very specifically beautiful lens, all the while making new friends. I absolutely love to make new friends and some people I’ve recently met at companies I’ve only briefly worked at have become life long friends. It is a beautiful thing.
The worst thing about being an opera singer is definitely the lack of security and stability and the “on the road” lifestyle. I think if you ask this question to the majority of opera singers they will give you the same answer. After months on the road, all you really want is a place you can call your own and some basic security and stability. I guess this is what we sacrifice to have the chance to live this unique experience.
3-Who do you like to listen to or watch?
If we’re talking Opera – my favorite performer at the moment is Gerald Finley (an Ottawa native!). I first caught wind of Gerry when I began my studies at Juilliard in 2007, when a YouTube clip of him singing the Doctor Atomic (by American composer John Adams) aria “Batter my heart” began circulating throughout Juilliard like crazy.
I was so enthralled by his performance, however at the time I hadn’t heard much about him. He quickly grew to be one of my favorite artists to listen to, and watch – I feel he embodies so much of what the “singing actor” is. From his clips of singing Papageno on YouTube (when he was still in his twenties), to his recordings of lieder and song with his pianist, Julius Drake – I totally appreciate and enjoy everything he offers as a singer and artist. He is also an incredible mentor and teacher, and I look forward to any chance I get to explore my repertoire and instrument with him.
4-What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
I wish I had more skills in regards to construction, artisan carpentry and home building – my Dad is definitely a “Mr. Fix it” who, when I was growing up would constantly be fixing up our house or cars when it was needed. He certainly gave me a lot of “tools” to use on my own, but since I ended up being an opera singer with no car or house, my life is so mobile and different that I hardly ever get a chance to apply and practice them. However, I do hope to someday to settle into a home somewhere (whether it be the US or Canada, I’m not quite sure yet) and really understand the inner workings of it all. I’d also love the chance to even design and build my own house – something that could incorporate a sustainable infrastructure and an indoor garden to produce the majority of my food throughout the year. This would be an ideal situation, but will certainly take time and planning to make possible!
5-When you’re just relaxing and not working what’s your favourite thing to do?
My favourite thing to do (outside performing and singing) is cooking – I love to get into the kitchen and whip up a few awesome dishes for the week or for some friends. I have found more and more that being in the kitchen is a meditation for me, where I can completely zone-out. It gives me a mental break from learning music, running my businesses, or anything else that might be putting on pressure. It also gives me immense joy to cook for people and see them enjoy what I’ve made them. I love cooking all kinds of food, but recently I’ve been focusing on eating a more plant-based diet – lots of fresh salads and vegetable curries/stews and healthy smoothies in the morning. There are certainly benefits to eating meat (high in protein), but I am very picky about where I source it and how the animals were raised. It is extremely important for our bodies and our environment as well as for the animal to know your source – so that is why I always choose grass-fed and pasture raised options when possible.
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Baritone John Brancy (photo: Gerard Collett)
Five more about taking on Figaro in Mozart’s opera.
1-Please talk about the challenges of singing Figaro.
At first, I was afraid Figaro was going to be 1.Too much singing 2.Too low for my voice and 3. Not the right character for me. As it turns out, none of these fears have manifested, in fact I love Figaro and how similar he is to my own personality, and the amount of singing and how beautiful some of it is, as well as the tessitura of the role. Within the past year I have been exploring a more “adult” sound with my voice (without losing its bright, youthful exuberance) so Figaro was just the right role to help ease me into this space, vocally.
One major plus was being able to work with a master such as Tom Diamond, our director; he has been an extremely educational, commanding and fun personality throughout the entire process. He is a seasoned director and has worked on the Marriage of Figaro now five times. It has been such a pleasure to discover the character with him and all of my wonderful, super talented colleagues.
2) The Marriage of Figaro is a mix of comedy & class-struggle, with a hint of romance & heart-break in the mix. Where do you like to place the emphasis in your portrayal?
Our production is based on the BBC show “Downtown Abbey” – the set, the costumes, and of course the time period (Right around WWI) in which it takes place. The themes I most connect to in this show are the class struggle mixed in with a dash of comedy and a dollop of heartbreak and romance. At this point in the play Figaro has already done so much for the Count and Countess to help them along in their love story together, so it comes with major surprise when he finds out about the Count’s intentions towards Susanna, his wife to be. I think setting it during this time period makes a lot of sense and really lends itself well to the upstairs downstairs theme, which is so clearly evident in Downtown Abbey.
When I’m playing Figaro, I constantly need to shift between scheming and playing the role of the servant, buttoned up in my tuxedo tails, ready to serve “my lord”. It’s a balancing act, but having these elements helps bring an extra layer of insight and color to my character. However, right before the Act III finale, I lose my temper and cannot hold in my frustrations any longer; after all, the Count is delaying our marriage and in a sense ruining what should be the best day of our lives.
3-Do you have a favourite moment in the opera?
Musically, my most favourite moment is when Figaro sings the line “Tutto e tranquillo e placido…” – Mozart really tapped into something special in this music and for me it is the first time in the opera where the audience sees the more tender side of an otherwise witty and willful character whose music is very rhythmic and sharp edged for most of the opera.
Dramatically, from the moment I enter to the moment I leave in the Act II finale I am having an absolute blast. This is where Figaro really gets to play front and center and become a more integral role in the opera and the plot. The scene embodies the genius of both DaPonte and Mozart, giving each character their moment to shine and also playing with the all the elements of the story in very different and imaginative ways. It is just so much fun to sing!
4-As Opera Lyra reinvents itself this season please talk about opera in the 21st century.
I am excited to see what happens with Opera Lyra in the coming season – I think their choice to expand their season’s offerings and explore new types of repertoire in different venues is a very smart move, both financially speaking and in order to bring in a more diverse audience. I believe Opera companies and Opera in general need to embrace this flexible and creative mindset when it comes to programming and community involvement in the 21st Century. I believe one of the key factors in future audience growth lies with performing for students and kids.
My involvement with the company does not end with Figaro this season – Operation Superpower (a Superhero Opera for young students and their families) is going to be making its Canadian premiere with not only Opera Lyra but also the Canadian Opera Company in Toronto in fall of 2015. I co-wrote Operation Superpower alongside composer Armand Ranjbaran, baritone Tobias Greenhalgh and pianist Peter Dugan while we were all still attending the Juilliard School in NYC. It took several years to put the program together, but in 2013 we toured it to over 100 schools for upwards to 20,000 students in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Pennsylvania and had great success. Now Operation Superpower is making it’s way into Canadian schools and I couldn’t be more excited and proud. I think this show has the ability to do a lot of things for the companies that are able to present it. It engages the students on a much deeper level than just the music – it inspires the students to discover their very own superpowers (their talents!) and incorporates core curriculum and character building elements as well. It functions as equal parts opera and motivational program and requires a very special type of artist to perform it.
The opera singers required must have a keen sense of what it means to perform for kids and also feel a strong innate social responsibility and want to bring classical music to schools. Operation Superpower has been a major success for us in the past, so I know that these highly professional companies are going to make it into something that much more special.
5) Is there a teacher or an influence you’d care to name that you especially admire?
There are several people in my life, who have been influential and special to me as a developing artist, but one woman has been specifically special and that is Mezzo Soprano Wallis Giunta, my partner of five years. Wallis has been supportive and understanding in all facets of my life – when it comes to my aspirations in and outside of music and in the everyday. She is a sounding board for all of my crazy ideas and she really enjoys my cooking, which is important. I am most happy when I get to share the stage with her in a show; so naturally I have Opera Lyra to thank for giving us a chance to do exactly that, as she is playing Cherubino in our current production. Wallis is a supremely talented artist and I look up to her in so many ways. I feel like the luckiest guy to have found such a partner and I treasure every minute we have together, even when we are on opposite sides of the world (Thank God for Skype!).
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Aha, now I begin to understand some of the chemistry in this photo—between Wallis Giunta & John Brancy..! It’s coming to the National Arts Centre this weekend, opening March 21st and running until March 28th.
Mireille Lebel is reliving that classic Canadian phenomenon, a singer missed at home while she’s off in Europe making a name for herself, most recently at Theater Erfurt, Theater Basel and Opéra Théatre de Metz, adding role after important role in the mezzo repertoire including Cenerentola, Cherubino, Sesto, Idamante, Nerone and Carmen.
This year, Lebel makes débuts at the Prague State Opera as Carmen, at Festival d’Aix en Provence in Svadba and returns to Opera Atelier in her role début as Orphée in the Berlioz version of Gluck’s Orphée et Eurydice. On the concert platform she will sing Handel’s Messiah with The McGill Chamber Orchestra, the New Jersey Symphony and L’orchestre symphonique de Trois-Rivières as well as take part in a Bach Cantatas project with Les Violons du Roy.
After an impressive debut at Opera Atelier as Annio in La Clemenza di Tito (for example the video!), Lebel returns to OA next month in the title role of Gluck’s Orfée et Eurydice, the occasion for asking her ten questions: five about herself and five about her portrayal of Orfée.
Mezzo-soprano Mireille Lebel (click photo for more details)
1-Are you more like your father or your mother?
Publicly like my mother and privately like my father. My Mom has this unbelievable intensity and let’s things fly in a totally uncensored and sometimes outrageous manner. I feel she missed her calling as an actress! I think it is her way of always showing her hand that taught me to be so open and go no holds barred onstage. My Papa is a deeply reflective and introspective person. A listener, an observer. And when I am not onstage, I flip into this mode.
2-What is the best thing or worst thing about being a singer?
Well, the lack of routine is wonderful! I love that. For me this is not really a job, it’s a passion and it totally dictates how I live my life. There is always that thing (the voice) requiring constant attention. It is exciting to keep working on the voice, and feel it grow and change. But there are sacrifices too. During a contract I basically foreswear the little pleasure of life – which for me are big pleasures! Talking on the phone, talking in general, espresso in the afternoon, eating past 7, drinking martinis are all out. The good thing is, when I finish a project, be it an opera or a series of concerts, I try to plan some time before the next thing. Then you are a free bird. You can sleep until noon, you can meet friends and caffeinate yourself to high heaven, talk loudly in a bar until 2 am. Whatever you want. Your time is your own.
3-Who do you like to listen to or watch?
I am alone A LOT so I have tons of time for this kind of thing! I scour Goodreads for book ideas and always have several on the go. Right now Do no Harm (the memoirs of a neurosurgeon) and The White Tiger. The television series playing right now are
RIDICULOUSLY good. I love Game of Thrones, The Affair, The Good Wife, The Fall, Fargo, The Americans, House of Cards (Too many to name!) When I am sad, when times are hard, when I want to feel good, I listen to Bach, to Handel, to Britten, to Piazzolla… I am always discovering a new piece music that brings out intense emotions! I was jogging to Dolly Parton this fall and I do Youtube the bejesus out of my favorite singers (who shall remain nameless because I don’t want any singers I don’t name to be jealous).
…Ok, twist my rubber arm I will name “Christmas Greatest songs” from Analekta with Lyne Fortin and the Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. I listen to that disc year round and always send a slightly tipsy message to Lyne at the beginning of December telling her she made my Christmas. I’ve been doing this to her since 2009.
4-What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
The ability to keep things to myself.
5-When you’re just relaxing and not working what is your favourite thing to do?
Well, I relax a lot even when working because I have so much time alone, but the things I like to do when I don’t have to maintain such a strict discipline are meet with family or friends in restaurants or bars and laugh a lot and talk loud!!!!!! I also like going to the beach or park or on a hike with a picnic and some wine. And I love to start drinking that wine a little after noon in the hot sun and then take a dip!
Mireille Lebel (Photo: Pierre−Étienne Bergeron)
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Five more concerning Opera Atelier’s upcoming production of Orfée et Euridice
1-What are the challenges in the role of Orfée?
With Orphée it is a question of concentration and coordination. I don’t know how it would feel to play him in another production… In this production , there is extremely tight, detailed, and intense choreography which in itself requires a lot of focus. Within that structure I have to find the naturalness of the emotions. And then I have to sing! So, it’s about having enough brain space and coordination to be playing on these three levels.
2- Your work as Annio in La Clemenza di Tito a few years ago with Opera Atelier was one of the most impressive portrayals of its kind I have ever seen. And here we go again with another trouser part. Could you talk about how you approach playing a male, both singing & acting?
Thank you! I love trouser parts. They feel amazing. When I started my career I had to think about male body language a great deal. I studied the way men moved, the way teenage boys moved. I did a workshop where I actually prowled the streets of Berlin as a man, which was terrifying as I thought I was going to be beaten up (didn’t happen!) All that helped me develop a vocabulary. My goal is never to convince the public I am a man but rather to draw on the masculine energy that is already inside me and just let it out. In this production there is not going to be any butch strutting! It is a subtle masculinity.
Mireille Lebel (standing) as Orfee and Peggy Kriha-Dye (Euridice)
3- Opera Atelier are known for historically informed performance. Please talk about what it’s like working with Marshall Pynkoski, David Fallis and the Opera Atelier team.
Oh God, those guys?! (Eye roll) Ha ha. It’s actually kind of amazing to work with people who care so much about the piece and the public. Marshall is a fascinating personality and artist. He is extremely precise in his casting and puts endless thought into the personalities of each artist and the results of them coming together onstage. (Not to mention endless thought into the whole production.) David is such an intelligent, versatile musician and writes us twiddles (that is the official name for them-I swear!) and always has interesting suggestions for phrasing or tempi.
Soprano Meghan Lindsay (Amour)
Yes, it is historically informed, and yet it feels like we are working on a premiere. The incredibly talented Peggy Kriha-Dye (Euridice) and Meghan Lindsay (Amour) work with the company regularly and along with Marshall, David, and the wonderful people behind the scenes, it is a tight knit and supportive team. I feel supported, I feel like I can take risks, I feel very luck actually!
4-Please put your feelings about opera and the preservation of classical culture into context for us.
Music is my religion. Nothing arouses such emotion in me. I don’t want anyone with a heart and brain and soul to miss out on the feelings classical music provokes. It would be SUCH a great loss.
Mireille Lebel (Photo: Pierre−Étienne Bergeron)
5-Is there a teacher or an influence you’d care to name that you especially admire?
Wow. So many. I will name four incredible teachers who I worked with intensely, my teacher in Vancouver, Gillian Hunt, my teacher at the University of Toronto, Jean MacPhail, my teacher at the Université de Montréal, Catherine Sévigny and my current teacher, Scottish soprano Marie McLaughlin. I find inspiration in so many singers, directors and conductors working today. There is a lot of talent out there and some amazing things happening!
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Opera Atelier’s production of Orfée et Euridice opens April 9th at the Elgin Theatre, running until April 18th. (click for further information)
If identity is performative, a mere construct that we enact, the demonstration of such notions would be wonderful material for the theatre. And so it is when we come to Dominick Argento’s 1971 opera Postcard from Morocco, currently on offer at the Opera Department of the University of Toronto.
The opera comes from the liminal world of travel, of people who are not actually in their lives but instead in between. We never know whether these stories—as in any exchange with travel companions—are true or false. Do we trust their stories? Do we perhaps see their personal belongings as invitations to discover entire voyages, fanciful or true? I am recalling a trip I took to Guelph long ago, seeing Postcard from Morocco, meeting the charming composer: who as far as I know is still alive. Did it really happen, it’s so long ago I can scarcely recall. Can you believe what you see, what you hear or read? Whether you’re traveling or seeing opera or reading a blog: you never know what’s real, what’s genuine. And what’s an invention.
Director Michael Cavanagh
Michael Cavanagh’s direction and Fred Peruzza’s design dare us to doubt, happily problematizing what we see and hear, by pushing everything in the direction of pure theatricality. The orchestra is visible onstage complete with fezzes and Moroccan attire. We’re on the Brechtian rather than the Wagnerian side of the equation, where the machinery is largely visible rather than concealed, where the viewer is encouraged to notice that everything is illusory, that nothing is real.
That small orchestra, smoothly led by Les Dala, ranges wildly from operatic discourse to a jazzier sound including a flamboyant drum solo from Sam Kim. It’s a fun & eclectic score that –while we’re speaking of travel—includes a section called “souvenir de Bayreuth”, taking several tunes of Wagner and twisting them inside out.
Conductor Les Dala
The work is double cast, with a final performance still to come Sunday March 15th at the MacMillan Theatre. There were several standouts tonight. Charles Sy as the man with the paintbox displayed the gentle tunefulness recently heard in the COC Ensemble competition that he won back in November. Alessia Naccarato had a suitably ironic delivery as the Lady with a Hat Box, while showing a more guileless aspect as the Spanish Singer. Danika Lorèn sparkled as the Lady with a Hand Mirror, and was quite lovely in her duet with Marcel Entremont as operetta singers. Gwenna Fairchild-Taylor as the Lady with the Cake Box was pushed in a somewhat comical direction by the production but she sang with great conviction & pathos.
I wish I could see the other cast. I’m sure it’s worthwhile whoever is singing this fabulous score. Go see it if you can, Sunday at 2:30.
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