Pendulum

Posted on June 6, 2013 by barczablog

Styles change so regularly it’s as though there were a regular pattern being enacted.  It’s been said that shifts in fashion, artistic movements are as regular as tides, possibly even like the swing of a pendulum.  If it’s human nature to observe these tidal behavioural shifts why shouldn’t political movements be subject to similar patterns as well?  I’m not saying that politics is a matter of taste, so much as that we’re talking about human nature, as manifested in several realms.  There are some people who are wedded to a position, left or right; the remainder change allegiance from time to time, depending on circumstances, or maybe upon the way their position is being portrayed, represented, marketed if you will.

The last quarter of the 20th Century seemed like a revolution.  Disco surged, heavy metal pounded, and the fashion industry grew.  But the revolution I’m thinking of isn’t a metaphor.  Ronald Reagan & Maggie Thatcher made it safe to be a blatant capitalist again.  You have to be old enough to remember the world of the 1960s and 70s to recognize the profound changes that followed.  I was going to say “understand”: but that’s the wrong word.  I am not sure anyone understands what really happened, although each side has their version.  Wherever you want to draw the line, however you might want to ascribe blame or responsibility, there are a few things upon which everyone agrees.  In the aftermath of the Great Depression, financiers acquired some humility, after the heady days of the 20s, when everyone wanted to be rich.  Oh I’m not saying that suddenly people didn’t want money after that, but wealth was in some respects tainted.  Was it a question of values (that is, what people understood as right and wrong) or a matter of aesthetics (that people were watching Henry Fonda in Grapes of Wrath let alone the idealistic films of Frank Capra)? I don’t think we can easily separate one from the other.

In the 60s and 70s there was an actual middle class, comprised of people working at jobs throughout North America.  Individuals at every level of society felt entitled to certain privileges, such as schooling, jobs, homes; and by and large people could find their way to their dream if they worked hard.  The underlying assumptions –that determine both our sense of right and wrong, but also identify the heroes and villains in our films & plays—have seemed to be changing several times since then.  The years with the Bush Presidencies seemed to be times when happiness was possible for the wealthy, but slipping away for the dwindling middle class.

Currently? For the first time in a long time, wealth is again problematic, as it was in the Great Depression.

Ralph Nader has been here the whole time –since the beginning of this cycle—and is using language that I haven’t seen before.  The gloves are off, when for example, Nader speaks of fascism. 

Or Bill Maher speaks of class war.

The Munk debates being broadcast on CBC tonight bear the provocative title “Taxing the Rich” (tune in HERE)

Just for the sake of argument, what is the argument for not taxing the rich? I’ve heard the argument that they will simply leave.  Is that so bad?  I pay taxes.  If anyone wants to live here it’s a privilege for which they should have to pay, especially if they’re doing well.

You know that saying “give it to a busy person”?  Or to put it in a slightly different way, imagine you’re holding in your hands a job that needs doing, looking at a pair of workers in front of you.

  • One has his/her feet up, while s/he’s on the phone
  • The other has a pile of work, and is busting his/her butt.

Who do you give it to if you want it done?  It’s counter-intuitive, but the one with his/her feet up will not get it done as fast as the one who is busy.

Suppose we then extend this to think of wealth & wealth creation.  Some people –the Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerbergs of this world—are good at making wealth.  If we follow that busy –lazy person analogy, let’s ask:

  • Do I reduce the taxes on that creative engine of the economy
    or
  • Do I increase the taxes on that creative engine of the economy

If they really are such brilliant creators of innovation, engines of wealth, the tax load means nothing.  They will work hard anyway.  Tax them. Their brilliance will not be stopped.

Now of course if we overdo it, maybe they’ll leave.  So perhaps there’s a limit.

But we should never forget Bill Maher’s pinăta.

Posted in Personal ruminations & essays, Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Figaro’s Honeymoon

Posted on June 3, 2013 by barczablog

It’s summertime, a season when young men’s minds turn to mush, in the presence of humidity and hotness of various kinds.  Of course men have no monopoly on this, but I was just mis-quoting Tennyson.  I’m thinking of this as the opera season winds down, as even the most hard-working begin to dream of vacations, even if they’ll never get away for long.

Tonight I gave Against the Grain Theatre’s adaptation Figaro’s Wedding another look/listen on their closing night.

I’m inclined to think about it in romantic terms.

Shortly before we got to the theatre, we stopped at “La Palette”, a French Restaurant I know from its previous incarnation in Kensington Market.  It seemed entirely apt that we did something totally unorthodox, a push me pull you meal, where she ate soup and I had dessert/coffee, and they welcomed us without batting an eye.  “La Palette” had some notoriety briefly when protesters descended upon them for serving horse-meat, a response that reminds me of the conservative critics we sometimes see singling out certain aspects in productions, without applying their rigorous standards with any uniformity.

Am I over-reaching in seeing a resemblance between gentrified neighbourhoods and operatic texts?  I remember AtG’s Boheme at the Tranzac, everyone involved deporting themselves in a suitably bohemian manner.  Just as “La Palette” has migrated to a nicer neighbourhood, so too with AtG.  Figaro is not just a tale of starving young lovers but a story of the search for happily ever after, the same story we’re all living.  Mr & Mrs Figaro may not be wealthy –and struggle to get their wedding paid for—but they’re at least conversant with the language of material comfort, and are on the lowest rungs of the ladder of wealth & prosperity, looking to climb.

In the theatre we wondered if there was something romantic in the air.  The audience was more than friendly.  Couples seemed very much at ease, holding hands, and making public displays of affection. It was kind of cute, actually.

A few days ago I had a chat with a former teacher of mine, namely Professor Caryl Clark at U of Toronto.  In observing something about a recent history book that seems to stick to the most old-fashioned approach to musicology –locating opera in the text rather than the stagings & interpretations—she said she was disappointed.  I mentioned that I’d heard York University’s Theater department was getting a new name that paralleled a change at U of Toronto.  York’s new department is the Graduate Program in Theatre and Performance Studies, while the U of T has the Centre for Drama, Theatre & Performance Studies.  In both cases, in other words, they’re recognizing the importance, if not the centrality of performance rather than just the book. That’s exciting and relatively new.

Michael & Linda Hutcheon

When I mentioned AtG’s Figaro, inevitably Linda Hutcheon came up. Caryl said “Linda’s ahead of us all”, because of course Linda had looked strangely at me when I’d raised the question of fidelity in a paper I did a good decade ago.

She was right of course.  I see now how irrelevant the book can be.  While we’re at it, why not get mad at Shakespeare for not being faithful to the Flaminio Scala scenario from which he took the story for Romeo and Juliet.  Of course nobody cares about what Shakespeare altered (confusing him with the originator of the stories he sets in his plays), just as nobody gets too steamed at Wagner for altering the myths he references, all the while telling his own stories.  Why then should it matter whether the originals from Mozart & Da Ponte get changed or not, in the version seen and heard on Toronto stages in 2013?

Nor do I care whether the menu at La Palette is the same as what they had when they were in Kensington.  When my friend renews his wedding vows on his silver anniversary, I don’t care whether the vows are the same ones as what he said 25 years before, so long as they’re meaningful to the happy couple.

That being said, it’s also worth noting, that Figaro’s Wedding is a fun night at the theatre, a feel-good night out.  It’s no coincidence that so many couples seemed to be beaming, in a touch-feely mood.  The energy resembles a date-movie, without the popcorn.

And so, as summer gradually discombobulates us, sending us out to pools or patios, I will also blog less in the coming weeks.

But I’ll be back eventually.

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

10 Questions for David Warrack

Posted on May 31, 2013 by barczablog

The most impressive display of sight-reading i ever saw? when David Warrack sat down with my piano vocal score of Candide and played the overture, up to speed, more or less perfectly.

Wow.

David first performed on radio when he was five, and it’s been pretty much non-stop since then.   David has a varied career as a Composer, Conductor, Pianist, Vocalist, Lyricist, Librettist, Arranger, Orchestrator, Music Director, Director, Satirist, Comedian, Actor, Poet, Producer, Impresario, Bon Vivant, and Hockey Coach – he has truly done it all! And judging by his project board, “he’s only just begun”.

As a writer he has had fifty-two shows produced professionally and he has been Musical Director for over two hundred productions across North America, including Shenandoah starring John Cullum on Broadway.

He won a Dora Mavor Moore Award in Toronto for his production of Toronto, Toronto, and for outstanding Music Direction on the production of Closer Than Ever.

David is also the music director/conductor for the Canada Pops Orchestra.

Any given week there’s always something new and exciting.   This week,  it’s a CD release.  On the occasion of next week’s launch of the CD at Hugh’s Room, I ask David ten questions: five about him, and five more about the CD The Three Davids.

David Warrack

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

Interesting – I’ve never thought about this previously. I suspect it’s a two-stage answer. When I was younger, I would have answered (easily) my Mother. Much as I loved my Father, all the things that he did with such ease seemed totally beyond me. His business was Warrack Electric, so obviously he was an Electrician, but beyond that, he was a carpenter, a plumber, a painter, an auto mechanic, a builder, a businessman, and nothing seemed beyond him. My Mother was the one pushing for the piano and voice lessons (and, oh poor misguided her) the dance lessons! So we had an obvious point of reference. Dad would want to know how I was doing financially. Mom would want to know about the artistic “stuff” and personal aspects. But hey, it was a great balance. But she died at 62 and over the last 30 years of my Father’s life, I came to understand him much better and realize that much of my philosophy towards life came directly from this amazing guy. By the time he died, at 98, in 2010, I was determined to never stop trying to be as good a person as him.

2) What is the best thing or worst thing about being a jazz pianist?

I don’t think of myself as a jazz pianist. I think of myself as a pianist who is fortunate enough to work in every imaginable style. This past week alone, I had a Musical Theatre performance with Michael Burgess, a jazz performance with Jackie Richardson, a performance of the classics with Pat Rose, and an evening singing my comedy songs for a group of people so easily impressed that they found them funny. I enjoyed every experience equally. I do suppose the difference when one is playing jazz is the total freedom. Michael expects and deserves to expect a certain consistency in his accompaniment. Jackie loves the freedom within the context of the form, and that is what jazz allows. I bow my head in awe to the great jazz instrumentalists, and just consider myself fortunate that I get to work in this arena on an ongoing basis, since at the end of the day, it’s so damn much fun!! I guess the worst thing is that, because of the freedom inherent in the style, you are always questioning what you just did, what you are currently doing, and what you are about to do, and wondering what you can do to make it better.

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

David Warrack and Jeff Hyslop

Wow. Who do I like to listen or watch? My tastes are so eclectic, that it is a very difficult question to answer. First and foremost, I love to watch people doing things I could never hope to do. Dancers. OMG. To have that control of your body. What a marvel. I saw the movie of Billy Elliot with my dear friend Jeff Hyslop. It’s like he was living his life through the film. Dancers are an awesome breed – so disciplined, so supportive of each other, so dedicated, so smart, and so deliciously transparent. It’s all there in the dance. One of my favourite songs I’ve ever written is “I Just Dance”, and, of course, I don’t. But I can only imagine what it must be like.

I love to listen to Tschaikovsky to try to learn how he can make the orchestra sound so magnificent. I love to listen to Bernstein, in awe of his equal mastery of melody, rhythm, chord structure, and instrumentation. I listen to Sondheim to learn how one must never take the easy path, to Mozart to wonder why I even bother to compose, to Bach to wonder what he would do if he were alive today, to Welsh Choirs to find the essence of a choir, to Pavarotti (still), to the two brilliant ends of the jazz spectrum (Bill Evans and Oscar Peterson) cuz of who there are and cuz 2 of my dear friends played with them (not to mention Oscar’s predecessor Art Tatum!), to Ute Lemper, to my pal (lucky me) Ben Heppner, to Weill, to Porter, to G&S, to Led Zeppelin, to Maureen Forrester (did we really work together all those years?), to INTO THE WOODS, to SWEENEY TODD, to anything of Verdi’s, to Copland, to Ella. And that list is only talking about Friday nights! I don’t even know where to draw the line.

I’m a huge sports fan (my younger son and I had season’s tix to the Raptors this past season). Live and die with the Leafs, the Jays, and the Argos. One of the few on the planet who still loves Tiger. Tennis blows me away, as does figure skating. Try to see everything new in town, in New York, in Stratford or Shaw that we can.

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

I wish I could dance, not like the ballet or jazz or theatre geniuses, but my parents were magic on the dance floor. Not me! And I wish I knew how to make the world better.

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

I love to read, although I don’t get enough opportunity. On planes, I prefer best-sellers just cuz, but at home, I love history, biographies, autobiographies (!), and political treatises. Dinner with family or friends is high on the list. Enjoy golf, but I’m an awful player – don’t get out enough (or at least, that’s my excuse). We’re big fans of BLUE BLOODS cuz Len [Cariou] is on the show, but also because it’s well written and well acted. Not much else on tv.

~~~~~~~

Five more about The Three Davids,to be launched next week at Hugh’s Room

1) Talk about the challenges you face in reconciling so many different creative personas (a classical musician, a conductor, a jazz pianist, composer & writer of music theatre).

David Warrack and contralto Maureen Forrester

I have the joy and honour of working with the best of the best on an ongoing basis. I have different roles in different situations, and I honestly don’t think I have a favourite. What I love is the variety. I am certainly at home at the piano, performing or accompanying (two quite separate skills), but I also love being on the podium, as I know I can make it a good experience for the musicians and for the audience. I don’t really care whether it’s a classical concert or a Pops concert, it’s simply a marvelous place to be. I can remember one night with Maureen in a major U.S. concert where I was holding the orchestra, and turned to her to watch for when we should come in. I remember (Rubenstein called them “moments of eternity” where you not only remember what happened, but you remember precisely how you felt at that moment) thinking to myself, OMG – there’s M/F and here’s this awesome collection of musicians and here’s this sold-out concert hall, and I am on the stick. Wow-double-wow-double-wow! The consistent aspect for me is that if I am performing in a tiny space or a 3000 seat venue, I simply love the fact that I am allowed to be the one on that stage at that moment, and can think of nowhere else I would rather be.

There is a fact of life that certain musicians or singers have a prejudice for one particular style and assume since you bounce back and forth between disciplines you are not truly an artist but a jack-of-all-trades who really is not committed to any particular specific style or place. Guilty as charged. Because I am committed to them all. Whether I’m on the organ at church, the piano in a studio, conducting a choir or orchestra, writing a song or a script, doing an orchestration, or leading a singalong (!), I am in my element. I am not a legendary figure or a ground-breaking genius or a virtuosic master, but I am a consummate professional, and I’m good at what I do. I’m offered more work than I can handle, and when I accept a job, I defy anyone to say they don’t get the best of me, since I honestly don’t know how else to approach it. The song I wrote to tell my life story in 3 minutes concentrates on the fact that when I go back home to Calgary, they don’t much care what I do “out there”. They want me to pick up the guitar and sing country songs. And I do. And I love it. If I were to have to give up the writing, the arranging, the conducting, the piano, I would miss every single one, because they all contribute to what I would deem is my mission – to offer as much joy and passion and fulfillment through my music as I can to as many people as I can possibly reach. And I can’t imagine ever feeling any less committed to it than I do today. I just hope I’m allowed to continue what I do for a very long time.

Working on THE THREE DAVIDS project is an excellent example of what I experience. Stevie Vallance, who I knew from way back at the Charlottetown Festival, brought the idea to me of doing a show on the music of Frishberg, Shire and myself. I’m a huge fan of both of the other composers. And one of my Dora awards was for Music Directing Shire’s CLOSER THAN EVER, which is when I first met him. I jumped at the opportunity. We went over oodles of material, connecting up with Frishberg and Shire (both legends) for input. The idea was a jazz cabaret. But where to perform it. We did an evening up north, but still couldn’t find a locale that was right. We finally decided the best thing to do was record a few songs from the show and use that as a selling tool. We brought in Dave Young (!) on bass and connected up with Charlie Gray to do it at his studio. Recorded the first few songs fairly quickly, but Stevie had to head back to L.A. Charlie added himself playing trumpet on a couple of tunes, but that was as far as we got initially, and we all got busy doing other things. Nevertheless, we would pull the demo CD out every now and then and promise each other we had to finish it off. When the opportunity finally presented itself, with Stevie coming to town, we finished off what we had started. Charlie weighed in on a couple more tunes and we brought Perry White in to play on a couple of others. These are all magical people, which therefore didn’t surprise me when we got a magical result. We figured the CD was the best road to finally getting a production up onstage. We are releasing the CD here and then in New York in the fall, where we hope to do an expanded version of “the show”. Whatever happens, we are thrilled with what we have at hand.

Michael Burgess and Rebecca Caine

Of course, we are all working on various other projects simultaneously – I had two converging writing deadlines the week before last: Eva (a musical I have just finished on Eva Tanguay, the huge Vaudeville star, for producer John McKellar with Jim Warren directing and starring Nora McLellan) and A Snow White Christmas (which is written with the brilliant Norm Foster and opens at Theatre Orangeville in November). I was behind because I had just come off a 19-concert tour with Rebecca Caine and Michael Burgess across Canada (doesn’t get any better than that). And this summer I’m writing an Oratorio Abram which has its first presentation in Toronto in September. And on and on and on. It is all so incredibly exciting that I have to pinch myself and make sure it isn’t all a dream. As Gershwin said (did I mention him in who I like to listen to?), “Who could ask for anything more?”.

2) What do you love about this kind of music?

I would describe our recording as a jazz “take” on a selection of music which is not necessarily considered jazz. Frishberg has always been immersed in the Jazz world, but Shire and myself are undoubtedly more recognized for our theatrical writing, and one does not always speak of the two in the same breath. However, we have found that by choosing the right material from each composer, there is a definite sense that all these songs do indeed belong together, and make sense as an evening’s entertainment. Of course Frishberg and I normally write our own lyrics, while Shire generally has collaborated with the superb Richard Maltby Jr. We even considered calling the show THE THREE DAVIDS AND A DICK, but it was not a big vote-getter! Frishberg did collaborate on a couple of the tunes we chose (with legends) and we have even included a song that Frishberg and Shire wrote together! I’d refer to it as “soft jazz”. Definitely not cutting edge, but solid, mainstream, and entertaining. I’m delighted with the result, and look forward to this being the first step of getting the stage show on its feet.

3) Do you have a favourite song or composition on the CD? 

Favourite song? Tough one. We had a heck of a time reducing the total number of tunes down to a baker’s dozen. I did love the opportunity of doing Maltby and Shire’s AUTUMN as a piano solo. I don’t know if it’s jazz, but I sure had fun doing it, and got a lovely tip of the cap from Mr. Shire. All the takes make me smile, but one that stands out is our opening cut, “Back On Base”, from CLOSER THAN EVER. We started into it and I stopped, suggesting Dave (Young) and Stevie should do it without me on piano, just the two of them. It’s a tough number. They did an astounding job in one take. I love what Charlie (Mr. Taste) brought to bear on the songs he played for. “Another Night In Another Room” was written for Maureen [Forrester], and has been recorded by a number of people. But what Stevie does with it takes it to another level, and Charlie’s overlay is a study in “less is more”. Magic. And Charlie suggested Perry, and I can’t imagine the CD now without his contribution. What a master! By the way, at the launch, we will play the 13 tunes from the CD, as well as 7 others that were under consideration, and will certainly be seriously considered for the stage show if and when that develops.

4) How do you relate to this kind of music as a modern musician?

I am most comfortable in a theatre or a concert hall. I’ve never really been as much a part of the “club scene” or the “jazz world”. But when an Alex Dean (we have him in place of Perry at the release as Mr. White was otherwise engaged), a Charlie Gray, a Dave Young, a Russ Little, or a Bruce Harvey do what they do, there’s no place else I would rather be. The creativity, the atmosphere, the musicianship, the sharing, the giving, the excitement, the magical moments are astounding. Joe Sealy was performing recently and got so far into one number, I didn’t think it would end, and very much hoped it never would. I spoke to him afterwards and said, “You’ve always been special, but that was transcendent.” Those are the moments we live for. The jazz scene is not as strong as it used to be anywhere, and that is a terrible shame. However, things evolve. The new Jazz Bistro is a wonderful addition. But as long as any of us have the chance in a huge or a tiny venue (or anything in between) to “do what we do”, we’ll be there, and audience members will always find that particular world to be an ever-evolving magical place to be.

5) Is there an influence or a colleague that you especially admire?

I love and admire so very many people in this city, in this country and beyond that I have had the opportunity to work with (or not!) over the years. It’s even more difficult to single people out than choosing what I listen to, as the list is virtually endless. I have had a few awesome mentors who helped me get where I am, and I mentor young people at any opportunity as a way of thanking those who were there for me. However, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my wife Lona (pianist/conductor) and my dear friend Bill Bridges (guitar). They are heroes.

This is an answer to the 11th question., even though it wasn’t asked! Why am I so happy?

Because my childhood was bathed in sunlight, because my brother is a gem, because my wife takes my breath away, because I have three children beyond description and two them (plus their incredible partners) are about to turn us into grandparents, because my friends are such a blessing, because I continue to work in an industry that has been so good to me, because I have my health, and all my dreams came true, even a few I forgot to think of ahead of time!

~~~~~~~

The Three Davids release is celebrated in Hugh’s Room June 8th, featuring compositions by

  • David Frishberg
  • David Shire
    and
  • David Warrack

And with lyrics and further music contributions by

  • Johnny Hodges
  • Jerry Mulligan
  • Jack Sims
    and
  • Richard Maltby Jr.

L.A. based vocalist Stevie Vallance will be joined onstage June 8 by David Warrack  on piano, David Young on bass,  Charlie Gray, trumpet/flugelhorn and Alex Dean, sax/flute.

Hugh’s Room guests will be able to purchase the CD for a reduced price of $15.

If your name is David?  You pay no cover charge for entrance to Hugh’s Room, at 2261 Dundas Street West for the release of The Three Davids. For everyone else, it’s $25 at the door, $20 for advance purchase at (416) 531-6604 or www.hughsroom.com. Dinner served from 6 p.m. Music begins at 8 pm.

Posted in Interviews | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Three Davids CD release: Hugh’s Room June 8th

Posted on May 30, 2013 by barczablog

“Press releases and announcements” are presented verbatim without comment.

NEWS IN 3-D(If your Name is DAVID you get in for FREE)

An impressive array of top talent awaits jazz lovers when THE THREE DAVIDS c.d. is released in Hugh’s Room on June 8th . It features compositions by

David Frishberg
David  Shire  and
David Warrack

with lyrics and further music contributions by Johnny Hodges, Jerry Mulligan, Jack Sims and Richard Maltby Jr — songmakers whose names are revered by jazz lovers around the world. .L.A. based vocalist Stevie Vallance is an Emmy award winner whose name has an equally magical reverberance for a wide variety of accomplishments.

Stevie will be here onstage on June 8  along with accomplished musicians David Warrack (piano), David Young (bass). Charlie Gray (trumpet/flugelhorn) and Alex Dean (sax/flute).  On this night, Hugh’s Room guests will be able to purchase the CD for a reduced price of $15.

Icing on the cake for any one named David — no cover charge for entrance to Toronto’s Hugh’s Room, 2261 Dundas Street West for the June 8th  release of THE THREE DAVIDS. For everyone else, admittance is $25 at the door, $20 for advance purchase at (416) 531-6604 or www.hughsroom.com. Dinner served from 6 p.m. Music begins at 8 pm.

Posted in Press Releases and Announcements | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Altared Figaro

Posted on May 30, 2013 by barczablog

If the dress fits, wear it!

Against the Grain’s modern adaptation of The Marriage of Figaro, namely Figaro’s Wedding accomplishes almost everything it set out to do:

  • tell the familiar story in a new way
  • give us all that amazing music with a great cast of singing-actors, in delicious proximity
  • keep everything that’s good in the original
  • …all while shining some new light on the story

Joel Ivany and Topher Mokrzewski have bragging rights in Toronto for the moment.  The regular opera season may have ended, but right now their show is the one to see.  Hurry and get your tickets while you still can (i bought tickets to closing night during intermission… Friday’s sold out).

The edgiest change about their Figaro (“altared” as in taken to the altar, as well as some alterations as well) is something decidedly Toronto, and arguably part of the opera’s subtext anyway.  Cherubino is usually a trouser role, or in other words a young man played by a woman.  We usually watch a woman pretend to make love to another woman, as we work through all the possibilities:

  • that maybe Cherubino is not a mezzo-soprano (a woman) but the young boy he’s signifying in the story
  • but maybe the women he’s pursuing don’t mind the pursuit, and even maybe like it a bit…

And so Cherubino is a gay woman living with the family of Alberto & Rosina (usually the Count & Countess Almaviva), a woman playing a woman.  This brings the subtexts right to the surface.

The most spectacular thing about Figaro’s Wedding is –HELLO! — the wedding.  Wow, what an amazing conceit, even if we knew it was coming from the publicity, showing us so many aspects of the story.  Given chick flicks such as My Best Friend’s Wedding or anti-wedding movies such as Bridesmaids and the Hangover trilogy, our popular culture is now saturated with this subject, a topic close to the hearts & minds of most of us.  It’s a natural especially considering that Against the Grain are of that age, possibly about to have a few weddings of their own in the next few years.

The last act reminded me a bit of the last part of Nutcracker, as if we were watching an opera within an opera, the performances like the entertainment at the big event.  And all this happens inches away from your face, the cast regularly dipping into the audience as if to greet their family members (indeed, i may be related to someone in the show… she was very warm when she grabbed me…it was nice!).

Mokrzewski & Ivany perform something almost impossible: that is, we’re listening to witty English text delivered at breakneck speed without surtitles.  Ivany’s translation is stunning.  I won’t spoil any of the jokes by repeating them.  But Mokrzewski stays out of the way with his piano plus the discreet players of the Barns Chamber Ensemble, so that we can hear everything.

There are really two different spaces; acts I & III being in one space, while II & IV are in the other.  Where the I & III space is very tight & resonant, with the players mostly right beside their conductor, we’re hearing something more strung out in the second & fourth acts, making co-ordination miraculous (for instance in the accelerating exhilarating wildness at the end of II).

There are casualties.  Barbarina’s gone, La vendetta (Bartolo’s aria in I) is gone, but so what,….No harm done.  The class struggle that’s so central to Beaumarchais’ source plays, originating in the cultural foment that would lead to the French Revolution, is harder to portray when you’ve modernized the opera.  Even so they manage quite well.

And i have to say, the performances are scintillating.

As a guy who knows the men’s parts better than the women’s perhaps i am biased.  I was fascinated by Stephen Hegedus’s Figaro and Alex Dobson’s Alberto (usually known as The Count).  It’s very hard to be heard when you’re singing lower, especially the way Hegedus does, easily touching every note bang on pitch.  For me the magic of Dobson’s portrayal is that he manages to be likeable in a role that’s least likeable.

Lisa DiMaria

I couldn’t take my eyes off him and Lisa DiMaria’s Rosina in the final reconciliation.  DiMaria had me wondering –in this updated version– whether Rosina really will forgive her man or not.  Their eye contact at the end is stunningly real, and a bit scary. Miriam Khalil as Susanna is a proper comic partner for Figaro; while her singing is delightful, she always makes us feel that there will be a happy ending to this chick flick / opera.

Teiya Kasahara

And as I mentioned, we’re watching something very original in the portrayal of Cherubino, invented brilliantly by Teiya Kasahara.  In this production there’s a special edge to the usual questions we ask, pondering whether Rosina reciprocates Cherubino’s advances, and to Alberto’s jealousy.  That’s all because of the solidity of Kasahara, DiMaria & Dobson.

Figaro’s Wedding plays at The Burroughes, (6th Floor) 639 Queen Street W. until this weekend.  Click for further info.

Posted in Music and musicology, Opera, Reviews | 3 Comments

10 Questions for Keir GoGwilt

Posted on May 29, 2013 by barczablog

Keir GoGwilt was born in Edinburgh, Scotland and grew up in New York City. Recent performances include the Beethoven Violin Concerto with the Bowdoin International Music Festival Orchestra, Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” with the Bach Society Orchestra of Harvard, the Berg Concerto and Aucoin’s “This Same Light” with the Encounters Ensemble at the Peabody Essex Museum, recitals at the Century Club and Miller Theatre, and a collaboration with Robert Levin on the world premiere of Levin’s completion of a Mozart piano trio at the Sarasota Opera House.  He is currently recording some of Tobias Picker’s violin and chamber music for Tzadik records, to be released in 2013.

Upcoming engagements include recitals with Aucoin at the Spoleto Festival and the Scottish Poetry Library.

Keir graduated from Harvard University in 2013 and was awarded the Louis Sudler Prize in the Arts. Devoted to showing the manner in which the practice of music performance has relevance in an inter-disciplinary discourse, his undergraduate thesis considers the implications of the study of music performance for literary theory. Next year he will begin working with Benjamín Ramírez, developing the philosophical implications of Ramírez’s “Instrumentalwissenschaft” (instrumental science), an exciting new project that studies the dynamic system of musicians’ technique in a scientific manner.

Keir is collaborating with Matthew Aucoin and Victoria Crutchfield on a concert series at the Peabody Essex Museum, which brings together drama, lyric and visual art in the space of musical performance. Keir has attended music festivals including Taos and Sarasota, and has studied with Lewis Kaplan, Christian Tetzlaff, Ute Hasenauer, Helen Vendler, Jorie Graham, and John Hamilton among others.

This Tuesday June 4th at noon GoGwilt joins pianist Matthew Aucoin in a program titled “Wordless Dreams” at the Richard Bradshaw Auditorium at the Four Seasons Centre. The eclectic program features the Canadian premiere of GoGwilt’s own paraphrase of Schubert’s “Nacht und Träume”.   In anticipation, I ask GoWilt ten questions: five about him, and five more related to “Wordless Dreams”.

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

Violinist Keir GoGwilt

Violinist Keir GoGwilt

I’m probably more like my father in most ways. Most immediately, our interests are very similar. He is a comparative literature professor at Fordham University; I just completed my undergraduate degree in literature. We certainly think in the same strange and impractical ways. Another similarity: we both need to be kept on course by my mother.

2) What is the best thing or worst thing about being a violinist?

The best thing about being a violinist is maintaining a craft. It is so rare to have a skill that you practice on a daily basis, and to be so close to your work. There’s nothing quite like using your hands to create something. I’ve learned so much from my relationship with the instrument: familiar movements, familiar physical feelings. I think a greater awareness of the complexities of the body’s interactions with the instrument make us read and listen to music better.

Recently I did a physics experiment with two friends of mine in an acoustics class at school, taught by Eric Heller. We made a neat discovery about the phase alignment of partial modes of vibration of the string in response to subtle differences in bowing techniques. Phase is not something that the human ear is not normally thought to be sensitive to—but not only did we hear the differences, we felt them as we pulled the string with the bow. As a violinist, you get to explore all these amazing things about what the human body is sensitive to; it is like being a scientist and an artist at the same time.

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

As far as violinists go, Christian Tetzlaff and Augustin Hadelich probably come up most frequently on my Youtube searches. I also love listening to Steven Isserlis, Jessye Norman, Bob Dylan, Animal Collective, Thomas Ades…and so many others.

Recently I’ve been watching a lot of videos of Chris Hadfield doing everyday things in outer space.

[Maybe this isn’t quite what GoGwilt meant…but i’m glad to have an excuse to post it]

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

I have the wonderful opportunity to teach a short violin course near Paris in October—but I have to learn some French! I think learning to speak and read French and German are at the top of my list, but I’m also interested in learning a bit of computer programming.

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

I like swimming, going for walks, playing basketball, reading, and writing. I love doing things that set a certain pace for your mind to freely wander. It’s great to get into a rhythm, and to think about things in an expanded way as you’re falling asleep.

~~~~~~~

Five more about Keir GoGwilt’s upcoming concert at the RBA

1) Talk about the challenges you face in reconciling so many disparate aspects of your life, from violin recitals, original transcriptions, poetry & literary studies at Harvard.  

I don’t see playing music and reading or writing about literature as fundamentally different things. A poem asks you to engage as much with your senses and your imagination as much as a musical score—both forms of writing seek the body. Recently I took a poetry-writing seminar with Jorie Graham; the way she describes the body and the “instrument” of the poet or reader is very musical. Drama, poetry and music all have a performative aspect—you have to do things with your body to engage with them properly. Even listening and reading involve an active and physical engagement.

The difficulties and the challenges of reconciling literary and musical studies are a resource rather than a problem. It is so difficult to talk or write about music, which in its most immediate form seems beyond words. I remember the first time I read Nietzsche’s description of Bizet’s music in “The Case of Wagner.” It was like he was performing Bizet, and not merely writing about him. Such an active, intense musical criticism is so rare—I think performers would benefit a great deal from having more of it. Nietzsche was such a musician, despite being a failed composer.

Another difficulty is the boundary constructed between theory and practice, or between music and literature. I think it is important to remember that these boundaries are in the first place constructed, and that they do not have a natural existence. In ancient Greece, poetry and music were unified in the space of lyric performance. I’m very interested in exploring this space between sound and language, between the temporal movement of a performing body and the lasting effect of a musical or verbal impression. Something as seemingly mundane as practicing a shift or scale on the violin ties into theories of difference and repetition explored by literary theorists like Saussure, Derrida, and Deleuze. We learn and understand language—musical or verbal—with the body. To actually experience and identify the different circular and repetitive movements of the body as it articulates on the instrument is to inhabit those philosophies in a way that is productive for both literary theory and for the practice of music performance.

In addition to writing about these sites of intersection, I try to integrate them into my performances—both the programming and composition of concerts and the actual detail work of playing the pieces. My pianist for the recital is a close friend and collaborator, Matt Aucoin.

pianist /conductor Matthew Aucoin and violinist Keir GoGwilt

pianist /conductor Matthew Aucoin and violinist Keir GoGwilt

Together with Victoria Crutchfield, we designed and performed the first program of a concert series offered at the Peabody Essex Museum called “Encounters.” The program weaves together music, poetry, and drama in a continuous narrative, following Ahle’s original chorale melody in its re-writings by Bach, Berg, and Aucoin. Playing the Berg Concerto and Matt’s new piece, “This Same Light,” with the newly formed Encounters Ensemble was such an amazing experience. We also had an amazing lighting designer, Mary Ellen Stebbins, and an unfaltering administrative director, Jennifer Chen. This was only the first of many such program-works based at the PEM.

2) What do you love about creating a transcription?

For this program, I’ve included two of Berg’s “Seven Early Songs,” which I transcribed for violin. Part of my motivation was that I really felt that there needed to be more violin repertoire by Alban Berg—it was a bit of a selfish indulgence. But actually I find that losing the words of the songs, which are so closely followed by Berg’s writing, becomes very expressive. In his book, Listen, Peter Szendy writes about the “double-listening” that always accompanies a transcription—we hear both the transcription and the absence of the original. In the case of the Berg songs, we also hear the absent motivation of the poetry.

The transcriptions actually change very little of Berg’s writing. Most of the work that went into “transcribing” was done on the instrument—that is, I had to find a way to convincingly adapt the aural experience of these songs from all the richness and articulation of a human voice to the expressive capabilities of the violin. I think the idea of “transcription” can be thought of in a more general way. Performance is in a sense always already transcription in that it adapts a composition for the particular body of the performer. Transcription takes place not only on the page but on the body—it involves a topological study of shifting readings and hearings.

3) Do you have a favourite moment in the program?

I don’t know that I have a favorite moment—all the pieces are wonderful to play. The piece I wrote is probably the most adventurous thing on the program—it was written in response to Beckett’s television play, “Nacht und Träume.” In his play, Beckett quotes from Schubert’s song by the same name. I played with the idea of a minimally staged musical event that performs Beckett’s process. There are two pianists, never on “stage” at the same time, trying to recall the fragmented melody of “Nacht und Träume,” but it always falls into the same strange and wordless re-harmonization.

4) How do you relate to this kind of recital and this kind of rep, as a modern musician?

I think the music on this program is actually all immediately accessible. Berg’s songs are firmly in the Romantic tradition, and the Bach and Mozart sonatas we are playing are such gems to re-discover. I love putting new and old works together—they make you look at the old works with a new perspective…as if the ink is still wet on the page. You can get a better appreciation for how the piece is put together—it seems somehow more composed, somehow more removed from popular memory.

5) Is there a teacher, singer, actor or an influence that you especially admire?

Ute Hasenauer, Künstlerin und Leiterin des Pre-College Cologne an der Hochschule für Musik

There are too many…many of my music and literature professors including but not limited to Christopher Hasty, Federico Cortese, Helen Vendler, Robert Levin, Lewis Kaplan, John Hamilton, and Jorie Graham.

For the past two summers I studied with a violin teacher in Köln, Ute Hasenauer. She teaches a technical method discovered by her husband, Ben Ramírez. He does painstaking and methodical slow motion analyses of film footage of the great violinists, finding common features between them. He also integrates principles from sports science research into his method.

In the process, they have discovered a lost art of holding and engaging the instrument.
It is a really amazing example of the meeting between science and art—I’m in awe of their research and teaching. Not only does it make playing the violin much easier and more comfortable, it also implies a philosophical outlook on music performance as a method of scientific and artistic discovery.

~~~~~~~

“Wordless Dreams” is a free concert Tuesday June 4th, 2013, part of the noon-hour series at the Richard Bradshaw Auditorium at the Four Seasons Centre, with Keir GoGwilt, violin and Matthew Aucoin, piano.

NB: this video features both Aucoin & GoGwilt

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Sympathy for the Bedevilled

Posted on May 26, 2013 by barczablog

It’s an odd week.  Since seeing the COC production of Dialogues des Carmelites I have the “Salve Regina” in my head, particularly the last two pages of the score, where Blanche appears.  I also hear the complementary sonorities of Ravel’s Le gibet, whose content is decidedly at odds with the sublimity of the staging I just alluded to.   Was Poulenc at all mindful of Ravel’s huge extended chords, connoting a lyrical image of death, in his own meditation upon mortality & our entry into the afterlife?  If so it’s as though he redeemed something dark and scary.   There are other compositions i could add to the list, but i chose two that are wildly divergent that still have some overlap, in order to problematize the whole question of aesthetic judgment.  Until i heard what Ravel’s piece was “about” (meaning the program associated with that lovely music: read the poems for Gaspard de la nuit here), i loved the piece without reservation.  And after a period of disturbance –not quite revulsion, but a break in the my rapturous admiration for this piece–i am back to loving the Ravel.

Isabel Bayrakdarian as Blanche de la Force in the Canadian Opera Company’s production of Dialogues des Carmélites, 2013. (Photo: Chris Hutcheson)

Which makes me wonder about the relationship of these two compositions to systems of morality (I almost typed the word with an extra T: “mortality”).  Hm, perhaps that’s a slippery concept from the same realm of relative values as artistic interpretations, in other words, so ambiguous as to be impossible to pin down definitively.  But what I am getting at is that we attribute meaning, that there’s no such thing as a meaning that exists anywhere without the assistance of the eye of the beholder attributing meaning to what they see; this is true whether we’re speaking of aesthetics (beauty or something else) or morality (good or something else).  If that’s so –and I feel very strongly that it is—then the similarity between the two compositions is rather intriguing.  Is there perhaps a macabre and nasty subtext to the Poulenc? Or is there something quasi divine lurking in the Ravel? Yes and yes I believe.

I put that out there, as I look at several tormented figures in the public eye.  I am wondering if the discernment of that eye is any different from the way we read and re-read metaphors in opera.  Some of us want to believe accusations made against political figures we dislike, and indeed are so eager that we believe before we have any proof.  Some are cynical, unready to accept anything without hard evidence.  I sometimes find myself contemplating one or the other: that is, the artistic taste of various political parties, or (to flip it around), the political tendencies of the followers of certain performing arts genres.  I know I know, it’s silly, nothing is monolithic, nothing can be reduced to that degree.  Indeed, life is polyvalent and multi-faceted, a tendency that’s only troubling to those who want neat and tidy categories.

I find myself empathizing with those currently accused of substance abuse for the simple reason that I happen to know a couple of people who have over-indulged over the years, sad drinkers & pain-killer abusers.  My drug of choice these days?  WordPress, as I seem to be addicted to the sound of my own voice on this blog.  Prose composition got me through the darkness of February –with a lot of help from the Ryerson theatre school & Feydeau—so I’m not about to judge.  I point to the similarities between so many different indulgences, some that we call addictive (alcohol, drugs, sex), some that we have not yet identified that way (the internet, work) in the same spirit as the similarity between the two compositions.  Perhaps our categories are false, our distinctions just theological posture or nerdy nattering.

When in doubt, take the compassionate path.

Posted in Music and musicology, Opera, Personal ruminations & essays | Leave a comment

Carsen Dialogues

Posted on May 24, 2013 by barczablog

Director Robert Carsen

I like to read a director’s notes before seeing a show, because they often contain clues about what you’re going to see. Robert Carsen’s take on Dialogues des Carmelites is a case in point. The production has been mounted all over the world, first in the Netherlands in 1997, including such major companies as Chicago Lyric Opera and La Scala in Milan (who produced a DVD that I reviewed a few weeks ago). But I didn’t really understand it quite so clearly until I saw Carsen’s notes before tonight’s performance (the second last of the production’s run) at the Canadian Opera Company in Toronto.

I’m seeing it late mostly because that’s the hand I was dealt by my subscription, but also because I felt this production & this opera don’t need any help from me. I assumed it would do well at the box office and likely would have great word of mouth.

In the program Carsen explained that “dialogue is at the centre of the dramaturgical material”.  And so each scene is really about the relationship of the principals singing onstage, literally a dialogue. We may watch a pair of characters seek or avoid eye contact. At times the chorus present the gradually impinging reality of the French revolution upon the various milieux we encounter, whether aristocratic or not. At one point Blanche (Isabel Bayrakdarian) and her brother (Frédéric Antoun) engage in a heart-rending dialogue through a curtain of nuns, the screening effect of those bodies representing the cloister to which Blanche has moved.

I understood the religious aspect of this opera in an entirely new way tonight, possibly getting something with Carsen’s help that had eluded me before. Poulenc’s opera is studded with little religious set pieces, such as an Ave Verum Corpus, an Ave Maria, and the Salve regina that ends the work. When people talk about religion we hear about extremes, either abuses or ideals: but in reality? It’s a challenging enterprise that we do while our kids are getting sick, our marriages are breaking up, our countries going to war, or into depression, family members are dying or we are sick. It’s the backdrop against which the rest of our lives (some of us anyway) unfold from beginning to end, a possible source of comfort, but ultimately, something we notice in passing, while all those big things (marriage, parenting, sickness, war, death) happen anyway. We are told that religion is heroic, and that’s very much what we see, not just in the trip to the scaffold at the end of the opera; every step is a challenge.  This was especially powerful in Michael Colvin’s wonderful scene giving mass as Chaplain, singing gently but fully supported & wonderfully articulate in his scene.

There were many other wonderful moments. I’m a fan of Adrianne Pieczonka, and was fascinated by her approach to Madame Lidoine. At times I thought she was holding back because she has so much voice to give, and of course in the last act she cut loose with that wonderful warm timbre she generates, a combination of fullness with agility that other singers can only envy. Judith Forst’s charismatic Madame de Croissy was so vivid I forgot I was watching a performance, spellbound. Can I mention everyone? I’d like to cite Hélène Guilmette’s Sister Constance, who surpassed the usual cuteness of the part in a portrayal of genuine warmth & illuminated by something i’ll call inspiration, and Cameron McPhail, the most impressive voice of any of the men in his brief appearance.

As usual the COC Chorus were like another virtuoso singing actor on the stage, and indispensable to Carsen’s conception.

The last performance is Saturday May 25th at the Four Seasons Centre.

Posted in Music and musicology, Opera, Reviews, Spirituality & Religion | Leave a comment

Wagner and the animals

Posted on May 23, 2013 by barczablog

Don’t mistake me for an apologist for  Richard Wagner.  I am merely seeking balance.

It’s the birthday of Wagner: the composer, the dramaturg, the musician, the pamphleteer, the communist, the racist… Yes, all of those and more.

Was he also perhaps suffering from Asperger’s?  I say that purely from a kind of intuition.  I know two things about Wagner with certainty, leading me to this additional speculation:

  1. Wagner spent a big part of his life in exile, running from the law,  creditors….  That doesn’t mean he was naturally estranged from humanity, but it also suggests he was happy living on the edge, outside of the mainstream.
  2. Wagner had a special love for animals.  I’d go so far as to say that whenever he writes a scene involving an animal, the music is usually among the high-points of that opera.  If i didn’t know better i’d say Wagner likes animals more than people.

Maybe it’s all wrong.  But I’m putting it out there in context with the hate-fest that is the normal day-t0-day discourse about Richard Wagner, a man reviled for his anti-semitism.  Liking his music is almost something to apologize for.  Would it change our outlook if we were to discover that RW were pathologically estranged from people, that he has an excuse, owing to a disability?  Perhaps.

So on his Bicentennial, I am posting a series of examples of Wagner’s extraordinary love for the creatures in the natural world.  Here’s a quick list of moments that I turn to, in order of their composition:

  • Lohengrin: a swan pulls a boat carrying the knight of the grail, both upon his first and last appearances 
  • Das Rheingold: as Alberich shows off for his guests he turns himself into first a dragon, and then a toad
  • Die Walküre: the immortals come with immortal live-stock (Wotan and the Valkyries on flying horses, Fricka in a cart pulled by a ram).
  • Siegfried: a bear appears in the first few minutes, birds (one of whom talks) in later acts, and we hear tell of other creatures from the hero.
  • Die Götterdämmerung: Brünnhilde’s immortal horse became mortal when his mistress became mortal (in the previous opera).  At the end of this one she sings first to her father’s ravens (announcing the end of things), then directly to the horse moments before she mounts him and rides into Siegfried’s pyre.
  • Parsifal: a swan is again at the centre of things, shot by the hero upon his first appearance, and the first in a series of lessons in compassion.    

The most noteworthy example i know of is not operatic.  Wagner wrote a story during his first visit to Paris.  While it’s fiction, i can’t help feeling his identification at a time when he was himself impoverished.  The person in this story that seems to be Wagner’s alter-ego seems to have a sense of connection to animals, and leaves me feeling a little uncomfortable.  Do animals prefer some people over others?  It’s an odd question, and a nice counterpart to the one i put to you: does Wagner like animals better than people?

I can’t help thinking that Wagner seems happier with animals than humans.  His tales and his music rarely venture into places or situations that resemble normal life.  It’s all reified philosophy & passion, and doesn’t feel very real to me.

If only his pets could talk.

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Wagnerian Bicentennial

Posted on May 22, 2013 by barczablog

We’ve come to the first of the three important opera composer birthdays in 2013.

  • May 22:  Richard Wagner’s bicentennial
  • October 10:  Giuseppe Verdi’s bicentennial
  • November 22: Benjamin Britten’s centennial

You may prefer Britten’s operas. You may point to the box office advantage Verdi holds with operas such as La traviata, Rigoletto and Il trovatore.  However much some may portray him as a hateful anti-semite –and it’s hard to avoid coming to that conclusion when you look at his behaviour & his writings—RW is the most influential of the three.

You only need look at the adjectives from their names. I’m not even sure what they are for either Britten or Verdi, and for that matter what they signify: love of the composer’s works or something pertaining to their operas?

And then there’s “Wagnerian”.

It’s not just an epithet to suggest grandeur or sheer size. But consider. The adjective is so strong it dwarfs its subject.  If i speak of my Wagnerian appetite, or a Wagnerian carbunkle on my nose, i am already surrounded by a swirling crescendo of associations as surely as if i had an orchestral entourage.

Yet this is the most superficial use of the adjective.

The fact I am bothering with this subject suggests a nerdy interest that brands me as a “Wagnerian”. Is there an equivalent word for an admirer of Verdi or Britten? No.  Verdian is only barely recognizable to identify a vocal Fach; and there’s nothing comparable for Britten as far as I know.

But there are other aspects to Wagner’s influence that aren’t properly acknowledged.

  • When your play or concert begins, the lights dim. That began with Wagner
  • The idea that actors and designers and directors and text should all work together may seem obvious, but it began with Wagner, who even coined a word for it, namely Gesamtkunstwerk, or “total art”.
  • It’s such a simple but all-pervasive idea that you may not notice that it’s how most films work, how everything from video games, aircraft instrumentation, to software installation and museum exhibits also work.
  • In passing we might mention that RW was one of the first (if not the first) modern conductors. How we hear symphonies and operas –and how we experience those works performed–bears his influence
  • Dialogues des Carmélites Dale Travis as Marquis de la Force and Isabel Bayrakdarian as Blanche de la Force in the Lyric Opera of Chicago production. Photo Credit: Robert Kusel © 2007

    Dialogues des Carmélites
    Dale Travis as Marquis de la Force and Isabel Bayrakdarian as Blanche de la Force in the Lyric Opera of Chicago production.
    Photo Credit: Robert Kusel © 2007

    In passing we can also mention that RW claimed that opera had it backwards: it was meant to use music to serve a dramatic medium, but usually instead employed drama to create a musical medium. (I almost typed “musical tedium” which may be a Freudian slip). The later generations of Wagnerian operas—who resemble Wagner 2.0—are much subtler in their use of leit-motiv , the voice, and extended orchestral interludes. Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande and Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmelites, to name but two, are classic examples from composers who may not be understood as Wagnerians, but who are inconceivable without Wagner’s example.

  • In passing we can also notice how many films continue to show Wagner’s influence on the musical score even if it doesn’t include a leit-motiv.

And so it’s RW’s birthday, 200 years along the way. While the importance of opera may be waning, Wagner’s influence is, come to think of it, so pervasive as to be genuinely Wagnerian.

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