Baby Kintyre and some thoughts on popular operas

Posted on September 16, 2014 by barczablog

A few weeks ago, John Gilks shared some thoughts about “that elusive new audience”,  in response to assertions by some that the “ small innovative companies create a significant audience for the larger companies”.  It may be so, although John’s essay looked at subtleties behind the hypothesis.

Pardon me, as I look at the question a bit differently.

I’m fascinated by the question of popularity, and so I’m coming at the question from the other side, both as curator (or programmer) and composer.  Some works get programmed more often, possibly because they’re popular, possibly because they have other advantages such as lower cost or easier to sing.  And some works are difficult to produce, less likely to fill seats.  The last century has seen many operas that challenge the audience, not unlike what we’ve seen in other media (from orchestral music to visual art to theatre).

What motivates a composer?  I don’t pretend to know but some composers have no fear of being intelligible or mainstream, while others would be offended at the thought, so clearly do they aim for something elusive, subtle or difficult.

Click for info about obtaining the CD

I am launching into this essay partly in response to Dean Burry’s new CD of his opera Baby Kintyre from Canadian Music Centre, partly in response to two other operas I encountered in the past year.  But I am also mindful of these three new operas in the context of popularity as I launch the latest session of my course “The Most Popular Operas” at the School of Continuing Studies, at University of Toronto.   What motivates a composer to choose a subject that’s not comfortably mainstream, or that might be called “difficult”?

Perhaps I should give examples.  The three topics each succeeded in making someone cringe at the description.

  • All it took was to say the title Written on Skin to freak out one person I was talking to. I wish the work were a celebration of the tattoo but no, that’s not the case.  I wrote a review.
  • I chose not to attend the premiere of Airline Icarus, an opera about a plane crash, because it was the night before I got on a plane to take my longest ever journey. I don’t think of myself as afraid of flying, but when a missile takes off a wing (as in this Korean Airlines crash) and the plane spirals to earth for minutes? Not sure I want to see that enacted, even though I’ve been told by someone who was there that it was very beautiful, a kind of requiem.  If I get the chance of course I’ll go see it (and enjoyed the small snippet I saw presented by Bicycle Opera Project).
  • The premise for Baby Kintyre is a kind of radio serial, which is very organic considering that this begins as a true story, about a dead baby found by a renovator on the site. Again, I couldn’t help thinking that at least one motivation was to redeem a grotesque news item, to seek something beautiful in the horror of our daily dose of media poison.

I should, however, put this into some context.  Operas are often full of gory death.  Salome, or Carmen or Madama Butterfly, to name three popular operas, all feature the death of the title role in the final minutes, enacted in horrific fashion.  Opera seems to love death, especially when it’s a woman who’s dying, preferably after a long eloquent swan song.  La Boheme? Tosca? More death.

Perhaps, then, the puzzle is in how to get from the shockingly new tale, to the older ones that are so popular.   But let me set that question aside, particularly because I don’t have an answer.

Let’s look at Burry.  The Brothers Grimm is spectacularly successful, Burry having written the libretto before he composed the music.  I have to say I have a special fascination for composers who do their own libretto, possibly because I’ve tried it myself, possibly because it’s how Wagner & Debussy worked.  I saw a small excerpt this summer presented by The Bicycle Opera Project (who also gave us some of Airline Icarus by the way).  I looked the work up online, to try to get some sense of it.  While the intended audience may be children, there’s no infantilizing, nothing that underestimates the listener / viewer.  I was struck by the wit of Burry’s libretto, the many moments when I was laughing out loud.  Comedy is perhaps the rarest thing in operas of the last century.  Dark topics abound.  One of the two operas I saw on Friday by Gian Carlo Menotti was The Telephone, a comical romp.  But such works are rare.  I’ve seen a couple of Lee Hoiby’s monologues, including Bon Appetit (where the singer portrays Julia Child) and The Italian Lesson (a snapshot of Ruth Draper).  It’s another pathway, a lighter idiom that offers a different sort of reward than one of the dark works I spoke of.  I wonder if Burry finds the style of Brothers Grimm relatively easy? He seems to do it so well that it sounds effortless. In going in a direction that’s difficult for his audience, is he also venturing into territory that’s harder for him as a composer & librettist?

And so maybe I’m biased.  When I waded into the CD, I felt Baby Kintyre does not sound dark enough for what it portrays, even as its idiom is astonishingly original, those segments like a radio serial.  I don’t listen to radio serials so I can’t really comment on that, except that what I understand was that radio plays were often melodramas.  Burry’s idiom is again light as quicksilver, and very accomplished. One of the things I find most jarring about modern media is how we juxtapose smiling announcers with tales of doom and death, one moment announcing horrors in the Middle East, the next minute smiling as we hear of something trivial involving a movie star or a bathroom product.  The arbitrariness of these juxtapositions is heartless, and the opposite of what we’re accustomed to in the Wagnerian world of opera and (don’t forget) conventional film music of the last century.  Reality is capricious, whereas opera and melodrama structures our emotions, building to climaxes and seeking to punch us in the gut.  Nothing, however, hits you in the gut like the arbitrariness of reality, perhaps best captured in opera by the blankness of the repeated “hop hop” that ends Wozzeck.

Burry has created a tour de force, precisely because it defies our expectations.  But I am still struggling with it.  The opera feels too light to me, not possessing the gravitas that such a  story should have, or so say my viscera.  I believe Burry set out to redeem the story with his tale, and in doing so, while we are given a kind of redemption, it’s not Mahler or Wagner, and indeed, I doubt they or anyone else could create something sufficiently magnificent for the news story.  There’s no redeeming such an unfortunate nasty factoid.  Did we really need to go there?

But I need to listen some more, perhaps to open my mind somewhat.  I didn’t like what happened to Cio-cio san, or to Mimi either.  I adjusted.  And along the way, the nastiness of those stories, the kick in the gut, becomes a necessary experience, helping us cry.  Can one cry for Baby Kintyre, and should one?

I don’t know.  I am reminded of those fans of Khatchaturian who hollered for his “Sabre Dance” when he wanted to program something new he’d written instead.  Is popularity—and the money that can be made—ultimately something negative that holds back the inventiveness of brave artists seeking to transform their audience?  Is popularity sometimes a trap or a worthwhile goal?

Again, I don’t know.  But the brave new works and the brave new interpretations of old works will keep coming, and sometimes the audience catches up to what was brave & daring generations ago.  Popularity is relative; the best opera can aspire to is perhaps like the litter on the floor after a hockey game or a rock concert, so much smaller.  In such a world why not aim high: as Burry clearly has?

Posted in Opera, Reviews | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Two from Menotti: The Telephone and The Medium

Posted on September 13, 2014 by barczablog

Coming home, the gibbous moon in front of me on Gerrard St scared the crap out of me.

Oh sure, I know all about this scientific phenomenon, where the moon looks over-sized when close to the horizon, surprising us sometimes.

Tell that to my viscera.

I’d been to see a pair of operas, and had even had a chance to congratulate a cast member. Even so, something in the illusions & emotions they stirred up must have lingered. There I was having an experience to mirror the melodrama of the heroine, like her, trying to deconstruct the magic into something explicable.

Please don’t mistake me, I don’t denigrate the work by alluding to “melodrama”: an apt description of Gian Carlo Menotti’s The Medium, the second of the two works I saw staged tonight. I’m sitting here, still pulsing with the emotions stirred by this production, thanks to music director William Shookhoff’s playing, and especially Karen Bojti as that Medium.

Menotti doesn’t offer us anything musically that hadn’t been done half a century before—and better—by Debussy, except for one thing.  Much as I admire Pelléas et Mélisande, it gets produced every now and then in big opera houses. Menotti? He’s the third most produced composer in the USA according to operabase.com, a site that crunches the numbers for the big companies of the world. Meanwhile Menotti’s Amahl and the Night Visitors–originally presented on TV–keeps getting staged in churches all over North America (if not the world), that opera alone likely making him the real #1 composer in America. Similarly, for companies such as Loose Tea, Essential Opera or tonight with Opera By Request (to name the three most recent companies I’ve written about in Toronto), who are small enough to be under operabase’s radar, operas such as Menotti’s The Medium or The Telephone can be a lifeline, and essential to survival. I’m also thinking about this because I’ve been listening to Dean Burry’s Baby Kintyre, his new opera CD. Burry too has been hugely successful because of taking the compositional road less traveled, in his ubiquitous The Brothers Grimm, supposedly the opera that’s been produced most of any opera ever composed by a Canadian. I need to ask Mr Burry if Menotti was his model, another composer whose small-is-beautiful aesthetic might have served him well as a template.

Okay, I suppose my nervousness has subsided finally, possibly dissipated by all the hyper analytic energy I used in the previous two paragraphs (an avoidance?). But I was moved a great deal by what I saw and heard.

Karen Bojti (click for bio)

It was the team of Shookhoff & Bojti who are especially to be thanked. Menotti’s opera is a very simple work, so long as you surrender to it and perform it with conviction.  Don’t be fancy, just sing and play what’s written. While I enjoyed the other performances, they were still largely operatic, which is to say, with a kind of self-consciousness about singing and voice, the ostentation of singers who are trying to be their roles and aren’t quite there. Bojti? she came from another place, fully channelling –excuse the pun—the emotions of her character, without any sense that she was doing what opera singers often do: worry about this high note (careful inhale, telegraphing what’s coming next) or that entry (glance at the conductor). At times she sounded ferocious, not always pretty in her attacks.  This is some of the best operatic acting I’ve ever seen, precisely because I didn’t feel trapped in the usual approach to singing & acting.

I must also credit Director Stephanie Ferracane, for a progression of suspense that built inexorably to the final scene. Light moments and the occasional moment of dark comedy (when you’re not sure if you should laugh or not) offered some relief before the climax, all balanced to perfection. Mener Pavri’s Monica and Enzo Voci as the mute Toby were totally sympathetic, balancing Bojti, who dared to be really nasty at times, undaunted by the ugliness lurking in her character (and please note, this was really hard to type about someone who is a good friend…!).

Director & soprano Stephanie Ferracane

The other half of this double bill was a total contrast, namely The Telephone. Stephanie Ferracane (the director) portrayed a dizzily irritating Lucy (the name seems apt doesn’t it?  But she reminded me of –gulp – myself when I spend too much time blogging, when I should be paying attention to the family at home), opposite the golden tones of Andrey Andreychik as Ben: one of the nicest voices I’ve heard in awhile. I believe Ferracane, Andreychik & Shookhoff gave Menotti a fair hearing, although compared to the other work it’s a bit of fluff.

Shookhoff & Opera By Request will be back September 27th for Lucia di Lammermoor.

Posted in Opera, Reviews | 1 Comment

10 questions for Erin Bardua and Maureen Batt

Posted on September 12, 2014 by barczablog

There was a time long ago in the history of opera, when the singer/virtuoso was the boss.  And that meant a world of divas competing against one another.  Wanting the better aria.  Seeking to upstage one another.  (I wish I were making this up but for example )  Each one sought to be the bigger star.

-Flash forward to the 21st Century- 

click picture for more information

Essential Opera is a company that features two divas, Maureen Batt and Erin Bardua.  They are not in a competition, as they’re a genuine team. These two talented women work together, not just singing, but building a company and a following.  They’re celebrating their fifth anniversary with an opera production presented on September 27th in Toronto and October 1st in Kitchener. The opera is Paride ed Elena by Christoph Willibald Gluck, a composer whose 300th birthday is being celebrated in 2014.    

And now, as Paride ed Elena help commemorate Gluck’s 300th and Essential Opera’s fifth, I ask Maureen Batt and Erin Bardua ten questions: five about the collaborating pair of divas, and five more about Essential Opera’s season opener.

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

Maureen: My mother. Well, actually, I’d say I’m an even split between the two. But, I suspect most people would say I’m more like my mother. My mother was an English teacher, and when I was in junior high (at her same school), teachers would stop me in the hall and call me Mrs. Batt, mistaking me for her. (I suspect this would only happen when I wasn’t lugging around my massive LLBean bookbag). I get a lot of my mannerisms (and my red hair) from my mother. Mom’s side is Irish-Canadian, and Dad’s background is British and Canadian. Mom sang in choirs and played piano and violin (I took lessons on her violin, too). We always say that Dad plays the spoons.

Erin: I definitely look like my mother too, so when you see Maureen and me onstage, you’re seeing what it would’ve looked like if our mothers had started an opera company. Which is about the weirdest image I’ve thought of all week, and in a week that includes preparing for an opera based on Greek mythology, that’s counting a lot of weird imagery. 🙂 (Maureen: I’ll tell Mom she’d better pack an extra outfit for her interpretation of Amore). My father is more musical – he played the violin when he was young, and I think a lot of the recordings of classical music I heard as a kid were his selections.

 

Left to right, Erin Bardua and Maureen Batt (Katie Cross Photography)

Left to right, Erin Bardua and Maureen Batt (Katie Cross Photography)

2) What is the best thing or worst thing about running a company such as Essential Opera?

Both: The best thing has to be the opportunity to put works out there that might not otherwise get an outing, and to interpret what we perform as we choose – both musically and dramatically. There’s a lot of freedom, and at the same time we always want to stay aware of our audience and of providing something enriching and enjoyable.

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

Maureen: This is a tough one–there’s not much I don’t listen to. These days, if I’m not listening to a particular classical work (for business and pleasure!), I might have on Songza’s Blog50 or Ron Burgundy’s Bachelor Pad playlist. This very moment I’m listening to Patricia O’Callaghan.

When I’m preparing for a gig, I like to listen to that music while I’m working out. Sometimes I’ll listen to pre-existing recordings, or I might just listen to a voice memo recording that I’ve made of myself (this helps me with memorization and channeling energy for later when I’m in rehearsal). I love listening to classical music while I’m at the gym; there’s a meditative quality to running on a treadmill and listening to, say, Massenet or Mozart.

I grew up making mix tapes from the radio, listening to the Solid Gold Collection tapes, and listening to CBC. I can’t remember if my first CD was Celine or Mariah. But my musical background included the Top 40 of various decades, classic rock, female pop icons, local East Coast music, a lot of musical theatre, and a lot of jazz–my husband, then-boyfriend, was a jazz bassist; one of my favourite gifts from him was Michel Donato and Karen Young’s Second Time Around (I wore that tape out).

It might be cliché, but if I had to pick four favourite female artists to span the genres, I’d go with Ella, Madonna, Renee and Audra (McDonald).

Erin: I like Maureen’s choices, at the end there, a LOT – I’d have swapped Cyndi Lauper in for Madonna because that’s just me, but those are some powerhouse performing vocalists. (Maureen: LOVE Cyndi!)

Listening-wise, when I started studying singing I went through a phase of absolute obsession with mid-20th-century divas and bel canto in particular, now reflected by my CD collection – many compilation and recital discs of Callas, Sutherland, Sills, Tebaldi, Price, Freni, Scotto, de los Angeles… Then as I got to know my own voice better, I added Schwarzkopf, Janowitz, Popp… then I discovered La Renee and Barbara Bonney, Harolyn Blackwell, Dawn Upshaw. A couple of current artists who I think have it all going on vocally, musically, and dramatically are Diana Damrau and Sondra Radvanovsky. I’m a soprano geek! (Maureen: Your entire list just made me drool!) Lots of those artists did wonderful cabaret and crossover work (especially Upshaw, who led me to Audra McDonald) and that’s when I realized I could still hang onto my musical-theatre dork roots and love classical vocal music too. In the car, you’ll find me doing all the parts along with any Sondheim cast recording, or things like the musical [title of show] (Maureen: The BEST) or The Last Five Years.

When it comes to preparation, Maureen and I very similar; I like to get hold of as many recordings as are available and change up my listening to avoid getting stuck on one interpretation. Eventually, I might prefer one recording for its dramatic or musical interpretation, and another for the quality of the voices. I also use my own practice recordings a lot – it really helps me to make the piece my own.

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

Both: We would both love to be fundraising whizzes and therefore dealing with larger budgets. We actually have skillsets that are similar, yet our working styles and preferences are quite complementary. So that’s really our only major gap where we have to seek advice from others, or where the tasks just seem a little more grueling than otherwise.

5) When you’re just relaxing and not working what is your favorite thing to do?

Erin: I like to go for long walks with my iPod – you’ll find me wandering the streets or on transit giggling to myself a bit like a maniac, because my preferred non-work listening is mostly comedy podcasts. I also read a ton of nearly anything – classics, current fiction, fantasy/sci-fi, nonfiction – especially if it has a bit of humour to it.

Maureen: I’m equally in love with curling up on my couch and watching a movie and going out for a good glass of wine/beer with friends/family. I also spend a lot of my free time divided among the gym, FaceTime-ing long-distance friends/family, and dancing while no one is looking (that’s a thing, I promise).

*******

Five more about Essential Opera’s presentation of Paride ed Elena on September 27th.

1)Tell us about Gluck’s Paride ed Elena and why you want to present this opera to start your fifth season.

Both: This is the 300th anniversary of Gluck’s birthday–so we took this opportunity to celebrate! Paride ed Elena is a perfect show for Essential Opera’s Season 5 opener: it’s intimate, it’s about relationships, and it focuses on realism and emotions. The storyline, while about the epic romance story of Paris and Helen, is easily accessible for any audience.

The music of Paride ed Elena is a really exciting example of Gluck’s “reform” operas. It was written at a time when Gluck and librettist Calzabigi were revolutionizing opera, so that the drama of the story would take centre stage. The music is constantly illustrating characters’ feelings and changes and pushing the action forward.

One of our unofficial mandates is to find shows with many roles for women–based on our auditions, women artists are underworked and we’re always thrilled to be able to provide opportunities to deserving artists. This show casts 5 women and features tons of gorgeous ensemble music!

2) what do you love about programming and organizing seasons with Essential Opera?

Both: We both truly love the behind-the-scenes, research side of our art as well as the performing side. Programming shows for Essential Opera gives us so many chances to learn new scores and delve into works we haven’t been exposed to before, as well as really explore better-known classics.

We’re lucky in that we both work really well together collaborating online and by phone – especially now that we’re living in separate cities and presenting in multiple locations! We’d die without cloud-based tools.

For each show, we choose a music director who specializes in that repertoire. We’ve been very fortunate to be able to hire Kate Carver (Figaro, Deserted Island), David Eliakis (Cherubin), Cathy Nosaty (Threepenny), Michael Rose (Schicchi and Campanello), and Cheryl Duvall (Canadian triple-bill). For this production, we’ve invited Dr. Vicki St. Pierre to return in her role as Music Director (she was MD of our Alcina shows in Season 2) along with Wesley Shen as Associate Music Director. Vicki’s a valuable resource to us, with her depth of understanding of classical and earlier music, and its context; and she’s also a fantastic vocal coach. (Full disclosure, Vicki is Erin’s wife, and we might be biased, but we love to take advantage of her brilliance when we can!)

3)Out of the complex planning and development cycle, what’s your favourite moment when you mount an opera?

Maureen: I think my favourite moment from the perspective of the artistic director, is the curtain call. At that moment, the show has successfully happened, and I feel an enormous sense of pride. It’s a very different sense of pride than the one you might feel as a solo singer. Being an AD means you get two performance highs–a singer high and an administrator high.

Erin: I agree – that’s an amazing sense of accomplishment. I also love the sense of infinite possibility when we’re first considering a piece for EO.  

Left to right, Fabian Arciniegas, Erin Bardua, James Levesque in Essential Opera's 2013 program "Two Weddings and a Funeral"

Left to right, Fabian Arciniegas, Erin Bardua, James Levesque in Essential Opera’s 2013 program “Two Weddings and a Funeral”

4) Please put Essential Opera into context for us, why your work is important to you.

Both: Essential Opera started out with an idea to do a single performance that would give us and some favourite colleagues a chance to do a favourite work. It has expanded into a much bigger endeavour, and of course, we’re happy with that! There are so, so many singers with terrific training and lots of experience, as well as younger artists coming up all the time, and with the industry the way it is, there’s so little work for us all. With smaller-scale presentations (we’re not bringing in any elephants!), we also have the opportunity to put on a huge variety of works in intimate circumstances – so we feel like we have something special happening for the artists as well as the audiences.

5) Is there anyone out there who you particularly admire, and who has influenced you?

Both: We really admire and are grateful to our colleagues who are also presenting classical and contemporary-classical music. For instance, we’ve had a lot of advice and support from Monica Pearce and the Toy Piano Composers on logistical and funding planning as we got started. That has been a terrific collaboration.

Maureen: It’s hard to see this question and not think of my family and my husband. Being a singer would be nearly impossible without my support system. I admire my entire family—immediate, extended, and in-laws!!—for standing by me on this extremely long journey (no one tells you it takes this long!). When I’m feeling like I need a little inspiration to practice more/harder/better, I think of my husband who used to hide out in the practice rooms at his music school until security had locked the doors. Then, he’d emerge from his bass locker and keep practicing into all hours of the night. While I am definitely a night owl, I don’t imagine that any of my neighbours would appreciate operatic singing at 4 AM. (I might try it anyway).

I’ve had four wonderful voice teachers who have supported me and inspired me in different ways: in my earlier days I studied with Maureen Steeves and David Mitchell, both in New Brunswick. And I’ve studied for many years with the remarkable mezzos Marcia Swanston and Jean MacPhail. I need to do a little shout-out to the amazing music education I experienced through school—playing in bands and orchestras, singing in choirs, and taking private music lessons was crucial to me realizing how much I loved music and how I needed it to be a part of my life.

Erin: I’ve been lucky to have many really wonderful coaches and teachers who have been very encouraging throughout my development and now as a professional. When I started singing, I was studying to be a flautist, and my flute teacher Lanny Pollet was very encouraging… of my singing career. 🙂 What’s especially lovely is the overwhelmingly positive response to Essential Opera from all the mentors and the colleagues I look up to – it gives me the energy to keep it up!

*******

Essential Opera present Gluck’s Paride ed Elena, sung in Italian, with English translation

  • Saturday, September 27, 2014, 8:00 p.m.
    Trinity St. Paul’s Centre, Toronto
  • Wednesday, October 1, 2014, 7:30 p.m.
    The Registry Theatre, Kitchener

For tickets click here

Posted in Interviews, Opera | 1 Comment

Kadozuke’s Richard III: right out of today’s headlines

Posted on September 11, 2014 by barczablog

Tatiana Jennings seems prescient. I understand that she and her collaborators in Kadozuke Kollektif and Bad New Days have been working on their adaptation of Shakespeare’s Richard III for awhile, a piece titled Richard III: the pleasures of violence. How did they know that this week everyone would show up at the theatre, primed and ready for a tale such as this one?

There’s Ray Rice, caught on video physically abusing his fiancé. There’s Rob Ford sharing the spotlight with ex-boxer Mike Tyson, glamourizing violence without apology.  And let’s not forget Vladimir Putin, rattling his sabres & giving us cold-war nightmares. This is not a good week for speaking truth to power.

Of all Shakespeare’s history plays, Richard III might be the least accurate in its historical details.  No wonder it was popular, a star vehicle for the actor portraying the monstrous tyrant. It’s outdated so of course one can’t blame Jennings for modernizing, as we saw in that 1995 film adaptation with Ian McKellan. Its fascist overtones fit the larger-than-life story very well.

Jennings & company up the ante, bringing it that much closer to the present in the behaviour of the characters (reminding me of Mr & Mrs Rice for example) even while resisting the impulse to be in any way commercial or easy on the audience. It’s very long, and I don’t say that as a criticism, speaking as a big fan of Wagner opera; but be prepared for a four hour night at the theatre, unless some time gets shaved off as complexities of set-changes are simplified. But in this reading Jennings explore depths of emotion, implications and after-effects, very much as she said she would in her recent interview.

We explore the sensations of many moments in the drama, taking us far beyond mere words. Sometimes Jennings encourages pure enactment of tableau, venturing into a realm something like dance or masque. Dylan Stavenjord’s sound design is at times like a film-score, gently supporting without being obtrusive.

Vladimir Kovalchuk's set design was configured & reconfigured endlessly

Vladimir Kovalchuk’s set design was configured & reconfigured endlessly

In some respects Vladimir Kovalchuk’s set is the star of the show, not least because the many brilliant configurations of the pieces requires everyone onstage to move pieces in an unending variety of shapes. I was reminded of Robert Lepage’s Ring Cycle design, both being an assembly of rectangular shapes, except that this one was spartan, whereas Lepage’s was humongous and very expensive. As with the Met’s “Machine”, the shapes served as backdrop, partition, floor, and even a kind of jungle-gym.

Lee McDonald does, however, live up to the challenges of this role, managing to be as likeable as a Iago (which is to say, a persuasive phony), but becoming more menacing with every appearance.

Lee McDougall and Lacey Creighton (Photographer: Tatiana Jennings)

Lee McDonald and Lacey Creighton (Photographer: Tatiana Jennings)

The Kollektif draws upon many diverse skills, even while demonstrating an expressive vocabulary that I recognize from the last show I saw, Codex Nocturno, even though it’s more than three years ago. Jennings is a choreographer, employing a cast that is mostly comprised of physiques capable of amazing movement, and stunning to watch even if they’re just eating a grape or staring off into space. For whatever reason, Jennings gives her women much more interesting movement from what I can see. Barbara Amponsah (especially powerful as the Queen Elizabeth), Caitlin Morris-Cornfield (a quirky old Queen Margaret and a boisterous child as Richard) and particularly Lacey Creighton (Lady Anne) seemed to be the ones the director regularly relied upon for the most powerful effects. Forgive me if I don’t mention everyone in the company of nine, who were sometimes as fluid and co-ordinated as a corps de ballet, even while staying in character.

For all the modern elements in Zuke’s Richard III, this production does have some aspects that seem very true to Shakespeare & the original practice movement. The children are played by adults, and one of the women is played by a man. The doubling of parts approaches the proportions I’ve read of as the ideal (it’s somewhere around a dozen according to Shakespeare scholar John Meagher). The set is never very representational, but hints at corridors, prison cells, space & enclosure, the actors boldly occupying the same space as the small audience rather than being inside some sort of proscenium arch.

I can’t help noticing how much better live theatre handles interpretive adventurers like Jennings than in the operatic world. While opera seems to be going through a kind of crisis centred on Regietheater (or “director’s theatre”), there’s no such problem once you’re dealing with a play script. At the Stratford Festival, for example, Peter Sellars was turned loose to fearlessly re-imagine A Midsummernight’s Dream as a kind of chamber Regietheater: which is to say, precisely the sort of thing he regularly does in opera (and has done recently with the Canadian Opera Company, such as his re-think of Hercules last year as a tale of the modern era, or his collaboration with Bill Viola in Tristan und Isolde). For all the divergences from Shakespeare, I was riveted four hours later, a bit sad when it ended and hoping that I’ll get a chance to see it once more.

Kadozüké Kollektif and Bad New Days co-present Richard III, The Pleasures of Violence at Zuke Studios / Imagefoundry, 1581 Dupont St. Toronto, and will be running September 10 – 14, 18-21, 25 – 28. Tickets are available at www.zuke.ca.

Posted in Dance, theatre & musicals, Opera | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Canadian Premiere of Dvorak’s JAKOBIN Oct 24

Posted on September 6, 2014 by barczablog

CANADIAN PREMIERE OF DVORAK’S JAKOBIN SET FOR OCTOBER 24, 2014.

The Canadian Institute for Czech Music, in collaboration with Opera by Request, will present the Canadian premiere of Dvorak’s semi-comic opera Jakobin on Friday, October 24, 2014, 7:30 pm, at Trinity St. Paul’s Church, 427 Bloor St. West, Toronto.  The opera will be semi-staged and will be accompanied by chamber orchestra.

This project, partially funded by the Ontario Arts Council, includes the participation of the University of Toronto Scarborough Concert Choir, Lenard Whiting, director; and Music Moves Kids, Erin Armstrong, director.  William Shookhoff is music director and conductor.

Cast is as follows:

Benda, the village music teacher……………..Lenard Whiting, tenor

Terinka, his daughter………………………………Danielle Dudycha, soprano

Jiri, Terinka’s beloved……………………………..Ryan Harper, tenor

Filip, the Burgrave, in love with Terinka…….John Holland, bass-baritone

Count Vilem…………………………………………..Andrew Tees, baritone

Bohus, his exiled son………………………………Michael Robert-Broder, baritone

Julie, Bohus’ wife……………………………………Michele Cusson, soprano

Adolf, the Count’s nephew……………………… Domenico Sanfilippo, bass-baritone

Lotinka, the Count’s housekeeper……………..Jenny Cohen, mezzo-soprano

This opera, which is extremely popular in the Czech Republic, and has been performed frequently in England and other European centres, is virtually unknown in North America, even though it was extremely well-received at its premiere and is generally regarded as Dvorak’s finest operatic work alongside his Rusalka.

As 2014 has been officially designated as The Year of Czech Music, it is fitting that the opera should receive its Canadian premiere at this time.

For information, please visit:

www.canczechmusic.ca

or call 647-969-3498

“Press releases and announcements” are presented verbatim without comment 

Posted in Music and musicology, Opera, Press Releases and Announcements | Leave a comment

Robin Williams trailers

Posted on September 3, 2014 by barczablog

Our cable provider’s pay-per-view offers trailers for many of the films that are available to watch.  For the last few weeks there’s been a category called “Robin Williams”.  It’s a broad assortment of films even if it really only scrapes the surface of a large body of work, from the man whose passing started a huge outpouring of grief in social media.  Maybe it’s just the people I know (because after all we’re all stuck in our own little groups of shared interest), but I’ve never seen anything like it, at least not since I fell down the wormhole of social media:

  • There was this little tidbit that re-surfaced, from CBC and This Hour Has 22 Minutes.
  • Norm Macdonald –another Canadian—gave it all a slightly different spin.
  • Russell Brand, another very complex comedian, offered this.
  • And then there’s also Michael Moore, a man –don’t forget—who calls himself a comedian.

The others who passed away that week had enjoyed long full careers.  I was quite upset about the death of Franz Bruggen, whose passing August 13th came just before his 80th birthday.  But like Lauren Bacall (who was roughly a month short of her 90th birthday when she died August 12th ) or Licia Albanese (who was over 105 when she passed August 15th ), I felt Bruggen left behind a complete body of work, even if 80 is not necessarily the end for conductors (recalling several who worked well into their 90s, such as Klemperer).  An untimely death is so much more than just the loss.  We’ve also witnessed discussions about depression and how to respond.  That’s probably a good thing, even if Williams would have been the first to mock his own re-framing as the poster-boy for an illness.  And on top of that, he’d just discovered that he was developing Parkinsons.

But that’s not how we have to remember him.

The assortment of films I alluded to earlier often come with a trailer.  The funny thing about trailers is how often they totally underestimate or misread the actual nature of the film.  Hindsight is 20-20 of course.  It’s wonderful to see the occasional trailer that actually shows you what the film looks like, rather than what the studio thought would be the best way to get you into the theatre, often totally distorting the film in the process.

This trailer for Adventures of Baron Munchausen has little to do with the film.  No wonder that the film performed so poorly at the box office, considering how they promoted it.  I’ve long wondered why Williams is credited as “Ray D Tutto”, not himself.  I wonder if the studio wanted the film to fail, and so –given that  Williams’ real name would have helped sell the film—they removed his name.   Or maybe it was that they expected Terry Gilliam to be funny because he’s from Monty Python and they’re comedians (hm…reminds me of Robin Williams).      

There’s a funny error, too, in the inclusion of A Prairie Home Companion among the films of Robin Williams.  Why?  Because there’s a bluegrass performer in the film who happens to be named Robin Williams, and he’s no comedian.     Hmm well his name IS Robin Williams. I don’t think he’s dead though (and thank goodness).

Okay, we’ll set those two aside.

But there are also trailers that are time capsules, such as the one for Dead Poets Society, including that corny phrase “you’ll stand up and cheer”.  Remember when trailers addressed you that way?

And there’s also the trailer for World According to Garp, a film that seems to come from quite another world than this one.   But of course Irving’s novel and the film were prescient. 

My favourite trailers are the ones that seem to capture some of the magic of their films & their times.

  • Hook 
  • Fisher King 
  • Jumanji 
  • Good Will Hunting, a very understated & humble piece of work, from the time before Matt Damon & Ben Affleck were household names.

There’s so much more out there, whether we mean freebies on youtube or the actual films themselves.  While Williams died an untimely death he still had a huge career, and leaves a colossal body of work.  The man may be gone but my God there is so much left for us to see & to celebrate (as with Bacall, Albanese & Bruggen come to think of it).

Posted in Cinema, video & DVDs, Personal ruminations & essays | Tagged | Leave a comment

Ten questions for Aria Umezawa

Posted on September 2, 2014 by barczablog

Aria Umezawa is Artistic Director and a founding partner in Opera Five, an opera company that has been producing live opera & video. They’re (in)famous for their unpretentious sendups known as “Opera Cheats”, a relatively painless pathway to classics such as Madama Butterfly.

You may not be quite so infatuated with Puccini (or Pinkerton… but who is come to think of it) after this kind of intro, but hey, what did you want, reverence? Opera Cheats is but one of several fun directions being pursued by Opera Five, fronted by Aria Umezawa.  

Opera Five kick off the new season with two September events. First up is their fundraiser “Equinox: Day vs Night”, celebrating/bemoaning the autumnal arrival of darkness (alas!) as an epic battle between voices light and dark on Tuesday September 9th at Atelier Rosemarie Umetsu. The following week they’re presenting Reynaldo Hahn’s L’île du rêve and Jacques Offenbach’s Ba-ta-clan at the Alliance Française de Toronto – Centre cultural Theatre 24 Spadina Rd (North of Bloor), on successive evenings September 19th – 21st.  I interview their artistic director Aria Umezawa, asking her 10 questions: five about her and five more about the French double bill coming Sept 19th.

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

Aria Umezawa

Aria Umezawa

This may be a bit of a cop-out, but I am a pretty even split between both my parents. I’m half-Japanese, and half-Irish-Italian, but I look like neither ethnicity. I’m a comic book nerd like my father, and endlessly enthusiastic like my mother. If anything, I’d say I’m most like my grandmother on my father’s side. Even though we don’t speak the same language (she is Japanese), and I didn’t have a lot of contact with her growing up, there are some incredible parallels in our interests and lives. Our love of music and food, our ability to laugh at ourselves, our good-natured clumsiness, and our tendency to view the world through rose-tinted glasses. Every so often another common trait will pop up, and I find myself marvelling at how similar we are.

2) What is the best thing or worst thing about being artistic director of an opera company?

There are two really awesome things that come to mind about being the Artistic Director of an opera company like Opera 5. The first is getting to research and uncover all these hidden gems in the world of opera. To date we’ve done rarely performed Spanish operas, contemporary American, obscure Rachmaninov, Canadian premieres, and unfinished Debussy. As an opera geek it’s pretty exciting to dive into a piece you’ve never heard or seen before. The second is having the opportunity to collaborate with such amazing artists across the board. Not only has Opera 5 worked with amazing singers, but we’ve seen some mind-blowing instrumentalists, conductors, composers, designers, stage managers, and stage directors. I get to learn and grow from all these people, and help them put their amazing talent on stage. It’s always inspiring to witness the endless creativity of these young artists.

The worst thing about being an Artistic Director for a company like Opera 5 is having more dreams than can realistically be accomplished. We’re never lacking for ideas, but trying to figure out when the best time is to launch projects relative to our resources is always tricky, and sometimes incredibly disappointing. Guess you’ll have to wait for the ten-course tasting menu served alongside Don Giovanni just a little bit longer!

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

This is really embarrassing, but I love action movies, Star Trek, and movies based on comic books – anything with explosions really. Yes, yes, I love opera, classical music, musical theatre, straight theatre, world music, blah, blah, blah… but sometimes I just need to see something blow up spectacularly. This need for explosions extends to my love of pyrotechnics in stadium pop concerts like Britney Spears’ Circus Tour. It’s horrible, I know. Someone once told me I simultaneously have the best and worst taste in music of anyone they’ve ever met. I like to think I am just honest about my tastes.

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

I don’t even have to think about this question: I wish I could survive in the wilderness. I wish I could start a fire, fish, hunt, tell the difference between edible and poisonous plants, make shelter, and fashion helpful tools out of rocks and wood. The whole nine-yards. I imagine I would not be horrible at the aforementioned tasks as I am right now, but I have not had the opportunity to test my theories of survival. Fingers crossed in the event of a natural disaster!

5) When you’re just relaxing and not working what is your favorite thing to do?

I love to cook and feed people. Swing by my place on a day off and you can expect I’ve cooked something in large quantity, and am looking for someone to share it with. Just today I made a stuffed salmon, homemade popovers, and wild rice pilaf. Luckily Rachel Krehm, Opera 5’s General Director was over to help me eat it all (she brought watermelon, my favourite thing to eat at any time of the day).

The Opera Five team, (left to right) Aria Umezawa, Artistic Director, Mai Nash Music Director, and Rachel Krehm General Director

*******

Five more about preparing Opera Five’s production of Offenbach and Hahn, beginning September 19th.

1- Could you give a quick synopsis of the action of the two operas?

L’Île du Rêve is a gloriously Romantic opera that follows your standard soldier meets girl, soldier gets called to war, girl commits suicide plot synopsis. Think Lakmé or Madame Butterfly.

In Offenbach’s Ba-ta-clan two ex-patriots wash up on the shore of a land they assume is China, and attempt to assimilate into the local culture. Hilarity ensures.

2- Please talk about the challenges in these two operas.

Both these operas are examples of French Orientalism – an aesthetic that draws influence from Asian cultures. As a result they don’t particularly age well – they can seem insensitive. In a city like Toronto, which prides itself on its cultural diversity, it’s sometimes difficult to draw the line between cultural exchange and cultural appropriation. Can a French composer truly write to the experience of a Chinese culture? In an attempt to reclaim the racial elements of this opera, Opera 5 is joined by Chinese-Canadian director, Jasmine Chen, who will direct the Offenbach. She is bringing a fresh take to this work, and turning the spotlight back on the French culture. It is going to be a special treat.

Jasmine Chen (photograph by Pierre Gautreau)

Jasmine Chen (photograph by Pierre Gautreau)

Sometimes we find these operas and think to ourselves, “This piece is incredible! Why isn’t it performed more often?” Then we realize one show requires a tenor who can sing a high F (a woman’s high F – not the Queen of the Night one, but still…). This was the case in Ba-ta-clan, so casting was a significant challenge. Luckily we just happened upon a man for whom that note is not difficult. Other times we’ll say to ourselves “Wow, this music is so beautiful!” and program it on the strength of its glorious harmonies, only to come to the conclusion that it has virtually no plot. L’Île du Rêve can certainly be accused of lacking in the dramatic department, but I believe our cast is up to the challenge.

Above anything else, I think the greatest challenge in any operatic performance is giving the audience something they can identify, and connect with. Opera is an overwhelming art form. A lot is happening all at once. Performances teeter on the edge of melodrama and the absurd. So how to you harness the dramatic potential of opera, and create a profound experience for the people who are watching? It seems absurd to any rational human being that a girl would decide to commit suicide after a three-day romance with a man who is destined to leave her, but how can we tap into that profound sorrow and passion and make that the focus of the piece instead? Therein lies the challenge and, for me, the appeal of opera.

3-What’s your favourite moment in the operas?

I don’t want to give anything away so I’ll just say this: the finale of the Hahn is spectacular, and the opening of the Offenbach is hilarious.

4-Talk about how you want to make us feel (even a few words) in these two operas.

I hope the audience feels engaged, and begins to think about this difference between cultural exchange, and cultural appropriation. What is the difference? How do we comment on race in art? How do we borrow from other cultures? Can we borrow from other cultures? What does it mean to live in a multi-cultural city? These are the interesting questions that I think are brought up with this kind of performance.
Beyond that, we span the spectrum of emotional possibilities with this performance. The Offenbach is fun, upbeat, ridiculous, and even offensive at times. The Hahn is tender, beautiful, glorious, expansive, tragic and all the great emotions you would attribute to opera. I hope the audience leaves feeling engaged!

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

Two teachers stand out in my mind: my High School music teacher, Mrs. Janes. This is a woman who instilled a love of vocal music in so many of her students. Many of my peers are pursuing careers in opera both in Toronto and abroad, or have themselves become music teachers. To impact so many people so profoundly, and to impart such passion, is something that I think is extremely admirable, and a testament to her abilities as an educator.

The second person is Patrick Hansen – the Head of Opera Studies at the Schulich School of Music (McGill University). I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who invests so heavily into his students. He is never more than a phone call away, and he is an amazing resource and support. His depth of knowledge, his vision, and his relentless gaze to the future of the art form is something I hope to emulate in my own work.

*******

Opera Five present “Equinox: Day vs Night” Tuesday September 9th at Atelier Rosemarie Umetsu, and “Offenbach & Hahn” (Reynaldo Hahn’s L’île du rêve and Jacques Offenbach’s Ba-ta-clan) at the Alliance Française de Toronto – Centre cultural Theatre 24 Spadina Rd (North of Bloor) September 19th – 21st. For further information about these Opera Five events click image

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

Ten Questions for Tatiana Jennings

Posted on September 1, 2014 by barczablog

Tatiana Jennings is a Russian born and trained actor, director, dancer and choreographer. She studied theatre and film at the Russian Academy of Theatre Arts and was a star of the Moscow experimental theatre scene. Her solo performance Madame Marguerite played to sold-out Moscow audiences for three years. Since coming to Canada, Tatiana has taught theatre at York University and Humber College. In 2005 Tatiana, with a group of Humber College Graduates, formed an experimental theatre company “Kadozüké Kollektif” to develop and produce multidisciplinary original work, which explores subjects of consciousness, mind-body interactions and perceptions of reality. 

With the company (as their artistic director) she directed and produced The Gulliver Project Figaro, his Marriage and the Fine Art of Dressmaking, The Sandman and Codex Nocturno.

Tatiana and Kadozüké Kollektif have been developing Richard III, The Pleasures of Violence since 2012, an original production inspired by Richard III to open September 10th in partnership with Bad New Days performing arts. This intimate performance combines Kadozüké’s signature visual aesthetic with a stunning set designed by renowned Russian stage designer Vladimir Kovalchuk in collaboration with Tatiana Jennings along with cutting edge 3D projection mapping designed by Montgomery Martin. They are still fundraising.

On the occasion of The Kadozüké Kollektif’s 10th Anniversary, and the opening next week of Richard III, The Pleasures of Violence (their most ambitious project to date), I ask Tatiana Jennings 10 questions: five about herself and five more about the show.

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

I think I inherited certain traits from both of my parents but I am also quite unlike them. At least that’s what I think they often felt when I was growing up or would’ve thought if they would know me now. My parents were absolutely lovely people and I was very close to them. My mother passed away when I was quite young and it had been more than 10 years since my father died. I often catch myself having a facial expression, which is very much like my father’s. I also think a lot about my mother. I am actually older now than she was when she died, which I find disturbing.

I am an only child. I grew up in downtown Moscow, across the Moscow zoo. My parents were busy working and I was mostly left to my own devices, being looked after by the various neighbours and friends of the family. As a child I had no real interests or passions except for reading. I started reading very early and spent most of my childhood and adolescence going through full editions of classics one after another. I probably read something like 20 toms of Balzac by the age of 14. My parents had an extensive library and nobody paid any attention to what my reading choices were. I read it all, novels, letters, essays. Dickens, Zola, Galsworthy, Chekov, Tolstoy. Whatever I could find. My parents didn’t really have any children’s books. I was obsessed with the Forsyte Saga. I used to read it when I felt sad or aggravated.

At some point I joined zoological society and worked at the zoo. My mother was a geneticist so it felt somehow appropriate, as well as us living so close to the Moscow zoo. I don’t think I was really interested in biology but I liked animals and socially it was a lot of fun. A kind of a social alternative to the high school.

I was a disinterested and lazy student. I don’t think I ever did any homework and I had problems with authority. However, thanks to the ability to read very fast and think on my feet I always managed to squeeze by. I never was considered to be artistic. I don’t think I ever read anything aloud in public. By the end of high school I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself. Then, just a couple of month before graduation I went along with a friend of mine to a private audition with a professor of GITIS, which is our Theatre Academy. My grandmother helped to arrange it and I was there for moral support. In Russia acting is a most coveted profession and it is almost impossible to get into it. There are thousands of people auditioning every year and the competition is quite ridiculous. The professor was very old and frail and she knew my great-grandmother. She also used to be a student of Stanislavski when she was young. After my friend left, I stayed and had tea with her and she asked me if I know anything by heart. I only managed to remember a part of a poem, which to my own surprise I agreed to read to her. When I left she called my grandmother and offered to coach me for the entrance exams. My parents thought it was a joke. It took 3 attempts to get accepted. I never looked back. It was like I was asleep and then I woke up.

Tatiana Jennings, Artistic Director of Kadozüké Kollektif

Tatiana Jennings, Artistic Director of Kadozüké Kollektif

2) What is the best thing or worst thing about being artistic director of a company such as Kadozuke Kollectif?

For me theatre is a family business. So my company is an extension of my family. I am very Russian in this respect. We are not really raised in individualistic western tradition. We are collective beings. Being a part of the company is a big part and attraction of working in the theatre. When I came to Canada I left back home my company, which was very much my family. So with Kadozuke I tried to recreate that model. The Canadian system is very different from the way we were brought up (theatrically). People rarely can afford to keep working together with the same people over long periods of time. The time it takes to produce a show depends on the amount of grant money, which is usually not much. So independent shows often have a small cast and not very long rehearsal time.

We work as long as we consider necessary and choose any material or subject matter we happen to be interested in. At a cost of course. We are not paid. Although all of us are professionals and our shows are very ambitious we treat our work as a collective artistic pursuit rather than a job. We meet 3 times a week for 10 years and we improvise, train, invent, rehearse, talk. It’s a life choice and a community as much as a professional pursuit.

We were supported by Toronto and Ontario Arts Councils a few times but we don’t rely on it. Our shows are too off the wall to be picked up for grants. We do make an effort and apply of course. It’s a lot of work. We always first start working on a project and then start applying for money. But we don’t stop working to wait if we got it. So by the end of all this grant applying and waiting we usually will have the show. In the 2,5 years we spent rehearsing Richard we applied for grants 9 times (if you count all the applications) But we were not able to get any support. So we did it anyway. We always end up doing it anyway. But, to tell you the truth, it would be fantastic to get some support. And actually have the money to do things on the scale we want.

[here’s the indiegogo link, fundraising for this project]

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

I almost never listen to music in my free time. I use a lot of music in my work and I like it to be quiet in my off time. I listen to a lot of radio. It became my favourite medium lately.

I listen to NPR, CBC and all kinds of other things. I listen to programs about politics, technology, science and interviews with writers.

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

I would like to be able to draw and sing opera.

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

I don’t really have any hobbies or interests outside of my work. I read, I watch tv sometimes. In fact usually, after I finish the show I binge watch tv.

*******

Five more about Richard III, the Pleasures of Violence, coming September 10th.resized lacey sefton

1-Please talk about the challenges of Richard III, the Pleasures of Violence in the context of the growing body of work created by Kadozuke Kollectif.

Usually I choose projects randomly. I have a stable of random or not so random subjects, which are stored somewhere in my head for the future use. Literary material, which had some impact on me, design ideas, images,.

When I have to choose a subject for a new work I go over the bits and pieces I have in my head and wait till something resonates. However, if I am honest with myself I am always exploring the same subject. Or a couple of subjects. The material is just a vehicle. I drive different cars along the same road, sort of speak.

But it doesn’t matter how many times I drive along this road – I still know nothing about it. And it looks different every time.  I am not sure driving is a right metaphor – wondering on foot, with a bunch of friends will be more appropriate.

The subjects I gravitate to are loss, fate, death, beauty, and the invisible connections in-between everything.

I look for invisible and unsolvable. Things we feel but can’t express.

Choosing Richard as a subject of exploration was somehow different. Or may be not that different, as it seems. I was thinking about attempting a Shakespeare play for a while. Mostly because I find myself completely untouched by the productions of Shakespeare I have seen over the years. May be because I’m Russian. We are quite fond of Shakespeare, but we work with contemporary translations done by well known contemporary poets. So it’s not really Shakespeare. As much as Chekov translated into English is not quite Chekov. The plot is there but the language is gone. It’s a different thing.

So for me to attempt an interpretation of Shakespeare in English was a challenge. And I like challengers. It is interesting to work with material where the audience has a feeling that they are familiar with the story. And then it will probably end up being a very different story from the one they expect. Mostly because of the approach we take. Which, I guess is unorthodox.

When I started my search for the right Shakespearian play I anticipated that it would be one of the magical comedies, like Midsummer night dream or may be something like the Tempest, since much of my work with my company had to do with the subjects of dream, transcendent and absurd, odd.

So my actors and me started reading the plays. We went through a few and nothing felt right. We almost dropped that whole idea all together but than I decided as a last effort to try something different. a historical play. Richard was somewhere on the back of my mind, probably because of the scene with Lady Anne, which I always found very sexually provocative. So we started reading it and Bingo! It felt perfect right away.

The play is almost comically violent; it’s a propaganda play. All historical events are distorted; there is hardly a word of truth in it.

Shakespeare plays with the reality and the meaning of violence and we play with his play.
We add layers of meanings, scenes, which are not there but could’ve been there, we reinterpret relationships and events. But we don’t change the text, just the context. We add life between the lines. It worked out to be quite funny

2-What do you love about Kadozuke Kollectif?

ladder_verticalI love my actors unconditionally. They bring their amazing talents and passion to our work, they are true collaborators. We work on our projects in two distinctive stages. First one, which might last for months, is centered on actors improvising collectively within a set of established rules. Each improvisation can last for a couple of hours and has it’s own theme, story and visual aesthetics. Nothing is discussed ahead of time. Each improvisation evolves from nothing into a complex layered piece.

At the end I, as an outside observer respond to what I have seen. We talk about what worked and what didn’t and try again. With Richard we had Shakespeare’s text running on a large tv monitor throughout the improvisations allowing actors to use it outside the context of a play. They would invent their own set of events and use the text of Richard in a totally different set of circumstances. The lines will acquire a different meaning and quality. The text opens up and begins to breathe and to shine. It is quite amazing to see.

During this period I only watch and take part in conversations. I wait till my sense of the project becomes strong enough that I am able to see the shapes and feel an emotional pull of the material. My actors inspire me. I don’t invent the shows in my head – I create them with actors and for actors. Without this first period I’m unable to work in an organic way.

When I am ready to step in and do my part of the work, actors are completely free within our chosen subject, so they can easily accommodate whatever I come up with. My choices are not based on the improvisations I’ve seen, they are inspired by the actors whom I have been watching. When I direct – it’s my time to improvise and to create.

3-Do you have a favourite moment in Richard III, the Pleasures of Violence?
…But it’s tech week, and Tatiana did not answer this question (yet) so we’ll leave that one up to those of us who go see the show. I’ll get back to you.

4-As a teacher who has been helping in the development of talented artists, please talk about the relevance of Kadozuke Kollectif in today’s world.

I don’t try to change my audience or to propagate my views through my work. I, myself exist in a permanent state of change and I explore the world through my artistic practice. The audience is invited to watch.

I can’t tell what kind of mentor and teacher I am. I don’t have any answers or any special knowledge. All I have are questions.

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

I have quite a few people who inspired me. Anatoly Vasiliev, a Russian director with his forward thinking and innovative theatre practice. Bill Viola, an American video artist and Vladimir Kovalchuk, my designer and long time collaborator both of whom know a secret or two about how to turn visual into visceral; My friend, colleague and my director Klim who knows how to play in the space between human and transcendent. My parents with their sense of humour and kindness.

*******

Richard III, The Pleasures of Violence opens at Zuke Studios / Imagefoundry, 1581 Dupont St. Toronto, and will be running September 10 – 14, 18-21, 25 – 28. Tickets are available at www.zuke.ca.

Posted in Dance, theatre & musicals, Interviews | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

The Coffee Mill and old Yorkville: multiculturalism & a changing city

Posted on August 30, 2014 by barczablog

When I saw the piece earlier this week in the Toronto Star about the impending closure of The Coffee Mill, I knew I had to go one last time.

There really was a coffee mill in the Coffee Mill. The coffee was amazing.

There really was a coffee mill in the Coffee Mill. The coffee was amazing.

Tonight four of us went for a last nostalgic whiff, even if the context is long gone. It wasn’t really about the food. There had always been other places where you’d go for the best Hungarian Food, whether on Bloor St West (such as Country Style, Tarogato, L’Europe including the Blue Cellar Room, a favourite student hang-out with cheap beer) or earlier on Spadina (Patria). Only Country Style remains in a district that is still full of students & decent restaurants.

It’s cliché to speak of Toronto’s diverse mosaic, but not so long ago this was a completely white Anglican town with no decent restaurants or culture. The difference between Toronto & Montreal (where my family had lived for a time) was at one time quite startling. They had history, we didn’t, they had food & culture, we didn’t. Or that’s how it was seen in Montreal, and at some level (shame-faced), in Toronto. That’s all so so different now, of course, as we’re much later in several inter-connected narratives for and from a hundred different communities & languages.

There are several different stories that weave together, and this is just one tiny part of one of those stories.  While there were Hungarians in Canada before the revolution of 1956, thereafter? A small flood of refugees came to this country, welcomed—so I heard it—by the wisdom of a minister of the Liberal Government, Jack Pickersgill. I looked for this online, but couldn’t find anything. Perhaps it’s just family mythology, which is not really odd  considering that my family is one of the ones who were already here, having come to Canada (first having gone to Sweden in the 1940s, then Montreal, and eventually to Ontario).  If we’d been struggling to get out of Europe –as so many did– we would have had no conception of the political battles going on here.  But in any case it was the Liberals who were the ones who welcomed the immigrants: or so went the family myth. Much later, fellow Liberal Pierre Elliott Trudeau would enunciate the principles of multi-culturalism that are now fundamental tenets in this country.  While it’s no longer quite so clear, for the longest time, the Liberals were the party of multi-culturalism.

But when The Coffee Mill opened in the 1960s, it was a very different Toronto. Whereas the Hungarian restaurants on Spadina & Bloor West represented one sort of venture–usually with a built in following among other Hungarians– the territory for the Coffee Mill was Yorkville, a neighbourhood that was one of the first instances of gentrification in this city. The edgy cool of the beginnings gradually wore off. Tonight, I was amazed that the neighbourhood was looking every bit as old as we were.

Older actually.

Tonight what struck me was how at one time, the urbanity & sophistication of The Coffee Mill was the leading edge of Toronto’s best & brightest, the place where people came to be seen. The Festival of Festivals –later TIFF—didn’t begin on Queen St West, which is the new de facto coolest place in town, oh no. Their gentrification is a more recent phenomenon, a neighbourhood that is still recent enough to be cool & edgy. No, if you believe the stories I heard –from people who claimed to know Bill Marshall intimately at the time—it all started in Yorkville.

Tonight? The schnitzels were actually really good. The prize, though, was the dessert + coffee, in the form of chestnut purée –riced into light strands—and covered in whipped cream.

The dent is where the marascino cherry used to be. I ate this faster than expected: because it was so unbelievably good.

The dent is where the marascino cherry used to be. I ate this faster than expected: because it was so unbelievably good.

There’s another week left to savour the place & its atmosphere. But Yorkville is no longer the centre of our universe, and all those other old Hungarian places –save one, namely Country Style—will be gone when The Coffee Mill goes. I’m not saying you can’t go home again. After dinner by coincidence I walked past the apartment where I lost my virginity. When you’re older, home, or the cool places of various rites of passage don’t mean what they used to mean. We’d walked past the site of the legendary Riverboat. We heard a remarkable anecdote which I am probably misquoting . Gord Lightfoot actually picked up the phone (without identifying himself). Whoever was on the phone– when asked the question “is Gord Lightfoot singing tonight”– replied “yeah because they never give me a night off”. That was before the huge career.

Fast forward to 2014.  We’re in the car on the way home, and I dig up that cool clip of Burton Cummings imitating Gordon Lightfoot singing Rod Stewart. It seemed apt, considering the way our adulation fades with time.

The Coffee Mill could be another opera or play because —unthinkably–they’ll be closing in a few days. But that’s it.  They’ll be at 99 Yorkville for another week, closing the weekend after Labour Day.  Good bye Coffee Mill and köszönöm szépen.

( “thank you”)!

Posted in Art, Architecture & Design, Food, Health and Nutrition, Popular music & culture, Reviews | 2 Comments

Alex Colville: love and menace

Posted on August 29, 2014 by barczablog

The new show at the Art Gallery of Ontario is called “Alex Colville”. Other shows have had epithets attached.

  • Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera was titled “Frida & Diego: Passion, Politics and Painting”
  • Francis Bacon and Henry Moore was titled “Francis Bacon Henry Moore Terror and Beauty”
  • The early Renaissance show too had a descriptive phrase attached: “Revealing the Early Renaissance: Stories and Secrets in Florentine Art”

Not so for Alex Colville, who is presented here without qualifying epithets. That’s a good thing, I believe, even if I seem unable to resist the urge to supply one myself.  Yes, I took the liberty of adding my own in my headline above, a couple of nouns to further mystify your experience. But I promise to explain myself, and to suggest that I’m on the same page with the AGO.

You add adjectives at your peril, I suppose. Going through the show, curated by Andrew Hunter (the AGO’s curator of Canadian art), I felt very much in touch with the inscrutability of this art. I was struck by a certain Pinteresque quality to some of these paintings. Previously? I’d merely thought “I don’t get Colville”, but now I recognize something about his ambiguities, his openness (in the sense of Eco’s “open work”), and refusal to declare himself or make our experience easy by signalling how we should respond. No, he keeps us poised on the edge, sometimes wondering what we’re looking at. Now of course this is hardly unique in modern art.

My respect for this artist has gone up 100 fold, even as I am –again—impressed by the job the AGO does in selecting shows & presenting them. But what’s especially intriguing about this one is how we’re looking at a Canadian artist treated with the love & gravitas usually accorded the great masters.  It’s a marvelous thing to experience.

As my wife and I discussed while walking through, this is especially powerful on the heels of the Bacon & Moore show from earlier this year. We are again confronted with an artist traumatized by war, changed forever by what he’d seen. It’s a brilliant stroke if AGO deliberately put Colville on to follow Bacon & Moore, and if it’s inadvertent then it’s simply our good fortune.

Here we are again confronting human bodies, sometimes lovingly presented, sometimes from afar and as if the viewer were alienated or traumatized. The bodies are sometimes alive, sometimes: not.

Alex Colville, Bodies in a grave, Belsen, 1946. Oil on canvas 76.3 x 101.6 cm. Beaverbrook Collection of War Art, Canadian War Museum (19710261-2033) © A.C. Fine Art Inc

The small part of the show that takes you through Colville’s experience of Bergen-Belsen stays with you, and for me at least, forever changes how I see those chilly Canadian icons. I now understand them in a whole different way. Colville was born in 1920, which means he was, if anything, at a far more impressionable age during the war than Bacon (born in 1909 and thirty years old during the London blitz) or Moore (born in 1898 was already in his 40s when the war started).

The exhibition showcases several ambiguous images that can be taken as menacing images. That’s the thing: that they’re ambiguous. I am hesitant, even if the possibility of danger is impossible to avoid, especially in images of dead bodies or people holding handguns.

But I want to balance this with something that, to my knowledge, hasn’t been remarked upon in Colville’s works. It’s the most obvious thing, really, even if it’s impenetrable in its equivocality. Colville paints or draws images of his wife year after year, and without romanticizing. Let me be clear. When I say “without romanticizing” I don’t mean he doesn’t love her. Oh no, I mean, he sees her exactly as she is, but then again he saw—and portrayed—himself with just as much honesty.

In one of the videos that the exhibit includes, Colville alludes to the love he had for his wife, but very obliquely. This is not a man who made bold statements, neither in his romantic life nor in his paintings.

Or to put it differently: he and Robin were married in 1942, during the war. Robin died Dec 29th 2012. Alex Colville died roughly half a year later, July 16 2013.  That cryptic little fact is itself a lot like his paintings.  The truth is there but it’s very understated.

I found the images in this show were occasionally legible as images with menace, but prefer to see them as inscrutable images, that Pinteresque quality I spoke of. We can only decode these pictures indirectly.

Alex Colville, Dog and Priest 1978 Acrylic polymer emulsion on hardboard 52 × 90 cm Collection of Jean and Bill Teron © A.C. Fine Art Inc

We see a dog whose head blocks our view of a priest; as so often happens in Colville’s work, the animals are perfect, while the humans are merely trying to get there.

The show includes some wonderful juxtapositions of images, showing influences both upon Colville, and influences of Colville upon others. JFK’s funeral is the subtext for Church and Horse, a painting that I never understood until this encounter. We watch that big black riderless horse in the funeral procession (in an overpoweringly large video display), then meet him again, galloping madly through Colville’s painting.

Alex Colville Church and Horse, 1964 acrylic on hardboard 55.5 x 68.7 cm 55.5 x 68.7 cm The Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, Purchase, Horsley and Annie Townsend Bequest and anonymous donor. Photo MMFA, Christine Guest. © A.C.Fine Art Inc

I am not going to claim there’s no menace here.  But it’s calm, hard to decode, and absurdly understated. And life seems to go on.

Alex Colville at the AGO runs until January 4 2015.

Posted in Art, Architecture & Design, Reviews | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments