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.
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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.
It was a rare performance by the Toronto Symphony tonight, inspired by guest conductor Gianandrea Noseda and the presence of soprano Adrianne Pieczonka. I can’t recall the last time they played with so much commitment, going back over decades of listening, a concert with several highlights whether you’re a fan of vocal music or pure symphonic repertoire.
Noseda & Pieczonka gave us a very subtle reading of Richard Strauss’s Four Last Songs, after the TSO gave us Casella’s Italia. The contrast was quite marked, between the musical vernacular on display in the Casella and the more rarefied language of the songs. Noseda extracted a wonderfully unpretentious & boisterous opening that made the Strauss sound like chamber music in comparison.
Conductor Gianandrea Noseda
Noseda’s tempi on the night were wonderfully energetic. In the songs I’d say we were going faster in all four than, for example, the George Szell recording with Schwarzkopf. Frühling was a reading of subtle mystery—or so it seemed after Italia—with a marked delicacy to Pieczonka’s sound. Even ascending to her high B she was floating her sound against a shimmering orchestral backdrop, her sound easily heard but wonderfully restrained. For September the voice emerged from the orchestra like a jewel against velvet. A fuller sound opened Beim Schlafengehen, leading us to Jonathan Crow’s magisterial solo, ascending like the soul itself, followed confidently by the soprano’s voice. She did not push out the last notes as some do – “zu leben”—but thoughtfully intoned them, seeming to be moved (I am sure I saw her dab her eye at this point, at which point i lost it). And Im Abendrot brought us home with further restraint. To this point I was a bit confused about Noseda, having heard his raucous approach to the opening piece followed by the most subtly conducted Strauss Four Last songs I’ve ever encountered.
After intermission it was time for something completely different. I saw we were to get the “Prelude and Liebestod”: ostensibly from Tristan und Isolde, but actually two pieces usually done as a single piece. We began with Noseda leading the orchestra and no soprano on stage. Hm I wondered how that was going to work, but forgot the question in the outpouring of sound from the TSO. As you may have noticed before, I far prefer quick readings of Wagner which I understand to be more authentic than the lugubrious readings some have attempted, that were for a time fashionable in the 20th century. Give me Luisi instead of Levine, Bohm rather than Karajan. For me the Tristan prelude was the musical highlight of the evening.
Adrianne Pieczonka (photo: Bo Huang)
And then as we came to the last page of the score, Isolde –that is, Pieczonka—wandered onto the stage looking mildly despondent, but finding a more joyful expression as she unexpectedly began to sing with no introduction, just the abrupt modulation from the prelude (an impressive feat in and of itself). Pieczonka sang with the confidence of a true hochdramatiche, showing no signs of distress whatsoever. While we shouldn’t mistake this + the 4 songs for a full Isolde, and an indication that she’d find it easy, I do believe Pieczonka could undertake the role. The orchestra on the Roy Thomson Hall stage is not the same as an orchestra in a pit, which would be more subdued in its sound, especially if the conductor for that occasion were mindful of his Isolde. This time? Noseda did not overwhelm his singer, but did draw a big full sound from the TSO. Does Pieczonka need to undertake this role? Good question. The sound she makes is magnificent in so many roles in several languages; she doesn’t need to attempt Everest, welcome as it might be to hear her assay such roles.
Noseda followed with a crisp & energetic reading of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony, drawing exquisite playing from the TSO. At times we were in a place of wild abandon, and so I didn’t mind a couple of fluffs, considering the emotional commitment, the rhythmic vitality of the playing, and the sharply delineated features Noseda was able to etch into the sound. It’s a great reminder to me of what this orchestra can do, after having heard Beethoven from Tafelmusik and Wagner from the COC’s orchestra. It’s the best TSO performance I’ve heard in awhile.
The program will be repeated Saturday March 14th at 8:00 p.m.
Tonight’s concert at Trinity St Paul’s Centre felt like an experimental combination of elements, and when I say that I mean it in a good way. I like ambition, I like new perspectives & different approaches to works I’ve known a long time.
Tenor Bud Roach
Bud Roach’s group Capella Intima—without a guitar in sight—collaborated with Gallery Players of Niagara on a program combining Purcell’s best known opera —Dido and Aeneas–with shorter works by Purcell and at least a few light pieces you might never expect to find on such a program.
“The Longitude” by Benjamin Cooke is a “glee”, a multi-part song. While originally they were sung by men we don’t have to be held back by such rules in the 21st century. Hearing this I suddenly understand the attraction of glee-clubs. Here are the lyrics, attributed to Jonathan Swift (and don’t be upset if it makes no sense, as there’s a story to explain it all):
The longitude: Missed on by wicked Will Whiston, And not better hit on by good Master Ditton. So Ditton and Whiston may both be bepissed on, And Whiston and Ditton may both be beshit on. Sing Ditton beshit on, and Whiston bepissed on. Sing Ditton and Whiston, and Whiston and Ditton, Beshit and bepissed on, bepissed and beshit on.
This was on the same program with two pieces from Purcell’s birthday ode for Queen Mary (“Sound the trumpet” and “Strike the viol”) Come, Ye Sons of Art. Instead of counter-tenors we heard male voices, which actually made for an interesting effect (better? not sure… but a worthwhile experiment) when singing of and for once emulating the trumpet’s sound.
I’m reminded of the simplicity of Roach’s CDs in presenting Italian songs with guitar. There’s a brashness there and again tonight in the willingness to combine these disparate materials. It feels as though disciplines are being combined, in the meeting of something popular and something classical. I may have mis-spoken in what I posted yesterday writing about the CD Dowland in Dublin, by La Nef & Michael Slattery, calling them inter-disciplinary, when in fact what I felt was the energy of crossover. That’s clear to me tonight, in the way Roach comes at Purcell. I’m disoriented by him because he can sing baroque (and play it too if his guitar is available) yet has the unpretentious approach of a pop singer. He has none of the stodginess one sometimes encounters in classical music, perhaps because he’s having so much fun. The fun was certainly contagious in some of the scenes of the opera, particularly when Roach’s Sorcerer took the stage.
As he explained the project to us, it was in the meeting of the two organizations (Gallery Players and Capella Intima) that the magic –whether we want to think of it as crossover or unpretentiousness—happened. The original proposition, which was somewhat outside Roach’s usual comfort zone, was to present a well-known opera, namely Purcell‘ s Dido and Aeneas. That was the second half of the program, with the first half an eclectic mix of instrumentals and vocals.
No wonder that the miniature concert version of Dido and Aeneas that followed felt so fresh. Five vocalists undertook all parts, Jennifer Enns Modolo a very direct and eloquent Dido, David Roth a suavely understated Aeneas, Emily Klassen & Sheila Dietrich both brilliant at times, and Roach as an over-the- top sorcerer & sailor. I’m still humming inside from so much lovely sound throbbing in the Trinity St Paul’s warm acoustic. The five Gallery players –Rona Goldensher & Julie Baumgartel, violins, Brendan Chui, viola, Margaret Gay, cello and Borys Medicky harpsichord– made a wonderful sound, whether playing, singing or acting as extra chorus members. There were no hard and fast rules, yet the musicianship was extraordinary in the retelling of a familiar story
The program is to be repeated this weekend, Saturday in Hamilton and Sunday in St Catharines.
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