I’m already wearing a mask every time I go to a store or a show. I’ve had my shots.
For the next little while on this blog I have to be extra careful. I will be changing the focus, seeing fewer live events. Instead I’ll do more interviews, write about books, films, recordings due to persons in my acquaintance who are immunocompromised.
My saggy cheeks tend to look grumpy. Thank goodness for pets who cheer us up.
I played the organ at Hillcrest Church last Sunday.
Some years All Saints (November 1st) and Remembrance Day (November 11th) get separate commemorations. In 2023 Remembrance Day (Nov 11th) falls on a Saturday, making it logical to combine the All Saints celebration of Nov 1st with Remembrance Day Sunday November 5th. It makes sense though, as they’re fundamentally similar in some ways.
The Saints we remember on November 1st aren’t just the biblical celebrities who we know as a name plus the word “Saint”. It’s also a time to recall the pillars of a church, the older members who have built and sustained the community.
For Remembrance Day we’re speaking of those who participated in wars, perhaps in support roles, driving, nursing, helping, perhaps in active combat, at sea, in the air or in the trenches.
Perhaps it’s because of this funny combination celebration in 2023, that I notice how the hymn For All the Saints hints at a kind of spiritual war in sainthood, speaking to both kinds of sainthood. The tune from Ralph Vaughan Williams lures the organist to play quickly. I believe the congregation appreciate my restraint in not rushing, as it’s not a race. And the words are more intelligible if we don’t go too fast. We lose the opportunity to meditate on the text when we go too fast.
Hillcrest Order of Worship for Sunday November 5th includes the names of congregation members who served in the wars. It brought tears to my eyes realizing that this was the first service in awhile that I would see so many names of friends who were gone, people who were both the pillars of the church and those in active service in wartime.
I remember Bruce Carruthers, with his big handshake and deep voice.
I recall Wally Legge, a friendly photographer with a gentle voice and a ready smile.
And Henry Condie, whose wife Rae regularly read from the pulpit including services where she read In Flanders Fields.
I miss them and others whose voices made music reading from the pulpit, stirring us while reminding us of so much. The Saints of a congregation are also the saints we recall for their service on Remembrance Day. Bruce, Wally, Henry (aka “Hank”) served in WW II, served at Hillcrest where they were friends and avid supporters of the church. And they are now gone.
My mind wanders in the corridors of memory, recalling University of Toronto Schools (UTS) History and English teacher Stewart H Bull, long associated with our cadet corps, but truly inseparable in my understanding of November 11th and Remembrance Day. You could see evidence of his service, one eye that was real. One that was not. I see on his obituary that he was “severely wounded in Normandy in 1944”.
On November 5th in church we had no trumpet for The Last Post or Reveille, so I played these pieces on the organ during the service, with Mr Bull’s lecture in my heart, when he explained the ritual to us in Christian terms. When The Last Post sounds you are going to bed, going to sleep: with no certainty that you will be there in the morning. In wartime, bombardments might prevent you from seeing the sun in the morning. Mr Bull spoke of the meanings of silence, as one waits. It was my first taste of real meditation.
When you hear Reveille you’re called to wake up. It is a typological echo of resurrection, as we’ll hear in Mahler’s 2nd Symphony, the signal not just of the next morning but rebirths.
Playing these pieces one might wish to imitate a trumpet. I did my best last Sunday not to sound too much like an organ, and thank goodness there’s a cornet stop and a trumpet stop to choose from. I found the Hillcrest organ’s “cornet’ sounds like an organ, while the “trumpet” stop is closer. The way I phrase it is also a factor. If I play too quickly I’m sounding like a keyboardist showing off. Slower is more like a trumpet.
My lesson from Barkley was in June.
I made a silly mistake in the yard. He’s so cute when he’s chasing chipmunks or squirrels or mice. He’s a cute carnivore with sharp teeth. I made the mistake of trying to stop him while hunting.
He sank his teeth into my hand, reminding me of the value of patience. I sat patiently in the emergency ward at Scarborough General, waiting quietly for someone to patch me up, even though this wasn’t war merely foolishness with my beloved pet. And since June I’ve been working to recapture my speed at the keyboard, while discovering other ways to be musical.
On Sunday November 5th I played an organ reduction of Nimrod by Elgar as the postlude, a slow piece that doesn’t require quick fingers. Our prelude was a slow improvisation on Eternal Father Strong to Save, a hymn that always reminds me of JFK’s funeral. Slower music is better for remembrance and meditation.
Barkley’s teeth forced me to rethink how I play. In the process I’m being less of a show-off and more of a curator of thoughtful music, while I wait to see if I will ever get my chops back.
Playing the Last Post a bit slower made it more meditative which seems appropriate for Remembrance Day.
Last night Powerhouse Opera presented an abridged version of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde at Jeanne Lamon Hall.
Powerhouse Opera is a new company begun by soprano Susan Tsagkaris in March 2022, aiming to showcase dramatic / large sized voices with a focus on the works of Richard Strauss and Richard Wagner, two composers especially known for this kind of vocal writing.
We heard pianist Brahm Goldhamer, playing in spite of an injury to his leg.
Susan said the following during rehearsals, with the following photo:
“Nothing can stop a Wagner lover from getting to rehearsal, not even a messed up Achilles tendon! We’re thrilled to have Brahm as our pianist and also thrilled it was his left leg not his right!:-)“
Achilles tendon? Although he came and went in a wheelchair, a cast on one foot that prevented it from using pedal it was brave work from Brahm, whose playing made the bolder choice, often playing the fearless octave passages with big dynamics to match the voices.
It was a concert performance, gestures and expressions but no real dramatic action enacted. We saw and heard tenor Peter Furlong as Tristan, Susan as Isolde, Catherin Carew as Brangäne, Andrew Tees as King Marke, and Alexander Cappellazzo as the young sailor. The sailors’ chorus we hear a few times in Act I was also accomplished from offstage, perhaps Alexander and Andrew? I don’t know as it wasn’t mentioned in the program.
It was fascinating to watch this shorter version of the music drama widely understood as the beginning of modernism even though it premiered way back in 1865, a story associated with love and the pessimistic philosophy of Schopenhauer. Instead of a running time of four hours plus (with a little less than four hours of music but normally pushed past the four hour mark by a pair of intermissions), this version shared by the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra came in around two hours (we were done around 9:30, having begun at 7 with a 20 minutes intermission).
That’s a mixed blessing. For those who find Wagner’s operas too long this looks like an improvement. But I had two big concerns, one dramatic, one vocal.
My drama concern? As a nerdy purist you may roll your eyes at my concerns with the story-telling. I merely want to mention that the theatrical side is sacrificed to the need for speed, a main character (Kurwenal) cut out who is important in the advancement of the story. There were moments that were a bit perplexing, and it’s not the fault of any of the performers, given the radical alteration in the story. I would far prefer that the cuts be made and –given the use of projected titles—the use of a screen to tell us what’s missing. When King Marke comes in and says his heart-broken “Tod alles tod” it makes a lot less sense if the battle scene (where Kurwenal dies, and perhaps has also killed some while defending Tristan) is removed, and there’s merely one person slumped in his chair, dead. We don’t see the fight at the end of Act II either –when Melot wounds Tristan so badly he’s almost dead— and therefore Tristan’s action when he mimes pulling off his bandages is a bit confusing. It’s tough enough for any Tristan to play this at it is, singing some of the most difficult dramatic tenor music there is, then dying before us. There’s more I could say but I already sound like a whiner, right? The piece as written is full of details that support the action, so in cutting you are making compromises. And it’s really a concert performance, not dramatized.
The vocal concern is likely unexpected, perhaps for the singers in the show. Let’s begin by stating something really important, that the roles of Tristan and Isolde include some of the most difficult singing ever written for dramatic tenor & soprano. I‘m going to make a couple of analogies to illustrate. When you walk or run, your energy expenditures are different. The roles are already like marathon runs. Ludwig Schnorr the first Tristan supposedly died after singing the part (a stroke or heart attack), although maybe he was unwell anyway. These are fiendishly difficult roles under the best of circumstances. Isolde gets several opportunities to rest and recover when others –such as Kurwenal and Tristan in Act I—are singing; when you remove that music Isolde goes from being a bit of a marathon to being more of a sprint. In this version Isolde gets fewer breaks. Act III is a big long series of scenes between Kurwenal and Tristan that are all cut, leaving just the little bit when Tristan pulls off his bandages in expectation of Isoldes arrival. Instead of that 60 minute break that would normally include all of King Marke’s confrontation of the lovers plus the intermission between Acts II and III that we didn’t have last night (sorry just speaking off the top of my head, it might actually be a longer break than that), Isolde has a shorter break, with some of Marke’s music and the tiny scene of Tristan’s death. I think this version is very difficult for any Isolde, tougher than what Wagner wrote. As for the tenor his role has been reduced substantially. The missing music at the beginning of Act III is some of my favorite music in the opera. Oh well.
So with that caveat, I did enjoy the performance, a fascinating opportunity to look closely at one of my favorite operas.
Susan’s Isolde was especially good at the ending, a Liebestod to bring the audience to their feet. Peter Furlong’s Tristan was a wonderfully dark sound, the true heldentenor blend of baritone and tenor that reaches up to all the necessary high notes with a very macho timbre. I hope to hear him again, but wish he could be given the chance to dramatize in costume, as he also seems to have acting ability to go with the voice. Catherin Carew as Brangäne had some of the most beautiful moments of the night, and Andrew Tees was a vocal and dramatic standout for a subtly underplayed portrayal of King Marke.
I will be eagerly watching to see what Powerhouse Opera offers next.
Erika and I watched the Canadian Opera Company’s la bohème today at the Four Seasons Centre using our subscription tickets, a revival of John Caird’s production that we saw in 2013 and again in 2019. As it was the closing performance this may seem pointless. It’s not really a review. In point of fact productions like this one are the best argument for renewing our subscription. Although she saw Fidelio with me two weeks ago, this was the one that really works for her. Puccini is her favourite and judging by the full house, rapturous at the end, she’s not alone.
Driving home under a full moon, it was inevitable that Moonstruck would find its way to the television. As Erika watched with the soundtrack drifting down to me, I thought I’d share some thoughts.
I could hear Loretta (Cher) lambasting Ronnie (Nicholas Cage).
This opera is indestructible, so well written that it always works whether the cast are as young as the characters they portray or much older. It helps if they sing well.
The COC gave us a wonderfully inclusive cast, persons of colour. Tenor Kang Wang faced a special challenge, singing but one performance near the end of the run with each of the Mimis (Amina Edris this week, Jonelle Sills last week). He sang well (as did they all) fitting into the ensemble shenanigans as though he had been there all along.
Speaking of Jonelle whose work I admire, I recently watched Against the Grain’s youtube version that was originally broadcast in 2019, a translation / adaptation (or what they call a “transladaptation”) into modern English by Joel Ivany employing a really young cast playing the opera in a tavern setting. It’s available online until tomorrow. Although they cut out some parts, it mostly works.
I was impressed by a couple of Canadians. Conductor Jordan de Souza created a superb interpretation. When there were big set-pieces such as in the Second Act with the toy seller, or in the last act dances and play-fights, he whipped up the orchestral sound, brisk and energized. For arias and duets, he sometimes proceeded very slowly showing great care and sensitivity, allowing silences and following soloists. It was the best sounding boheme I’ve heard in awhile.
I’m conflicted.
Speaking of inclusivity, the Canadian Opera Company are not as Canadian as they could be if they really put their minds to it. Yes the orchestra and the chorus did amazing work. Charlotte Siegel (Canadian) was a superb Musetta vocally and dramatically. Justin Welsh (Canadian), the Schaunard today in COC’s bohème, has played the larger role of Marcello in the AtG boheme that we saw a few years ago in Toronto. Maybe I’m old-fashioned but I remember when Canadians progressed at the COC, when a singer who sang Schaunard would later sing Marcello.
I feel I can say this as a long-time COC subscriber, who puts his money where his mouth is. There are singers who have left the profession because there’s not enough work. That the COC gets funding from arts councils while bringing in foreign talent really bugs me. When there’s no competent singer available to sing the role, sure, you need to import. But that’s not the case with this opera. It’s especially true when you consider that the bohemians are supposed to be young, yet in this production many of the singers are looking somewhat long in the tooth (not naming names). Please give me young Canadians. Stratford Festival is almost completely Canadian talent. National Ballet is mostly Canadian talent. If those companies –who began with the colonial model of bringing in European mentors and teachers —could do it, surely the COC can too. Speaking of colonial, it doesn’t help that the COC keep hiring foreigners for their management. I’m looking forward to the day that the COC make the bold step of putting a Canadian into the role of General Director. I don’t believe these goals have been properly articulated to the powers that be at the COC.
I understand that the COC has a charter stating that the company is supposed to employ Canadians when possible. But perhaps the piece of paper is stuck in a filing cabinet somewhere, that is if it wasn’t shredded.
I’m wishing the COC would follow through a bit more with their Ensemble Studio, a concept begun under Lotfi Mansouri that offers training and employment opportunities to young singers. It’s a bit like the internships we see at universities, where teaching assistants are paid to work in supporting roles, as they train in hopes of being professors. It’s definitely a win-win, in the sense that both sides benefit. The university saves money with these young teaching assistants, who don’t cost nearly as much as professors, and take some of the load off the professors, and the TAs get paid for work that serves as part of their training.
But it’s an imperfect analogy if we recall that Teaching Assistants are on a path to becoming professors. The COC Ensemble Studio train people who may work elsewhere but rarely seem to come back to the COC except in small roles, OR after making it big elsewhere.
John Gilks of Opera Ramblings said the following, in his write-up of the recent Ensemble Studio event.
Realistically, success at Centre Stage is less a guarantee of stardom than an opportunity to get a grip on the very bottom of the long, greasy pole that may, sometimes, lead to stardom.
I know far too many singers who have to take a day-job, who give up their dream, who are struggling. The pathway currently being taken by the COC makes me sad and frustrated.
Last night’s Toronto Symphony concert titled “Beethoven’s Seventh” was another chance to watch the ongoing romance between the TSO and their new music director Gustavo Gimeno.
Whether it’s a love of Beethoven or delight in the ongoing lovefest between orchestra & music director, we had a full house midweek, a knowledgeable crowd without any phone phaux pas, enormously enthusiastic applause for every piece regardless of its century, and so much stillness during quiet parts to suggest something approaching rapture.
After a break for two nights of Carmina Burana with the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir tonight & Friday they’re back to repeat the program Saturday night at Roy Thomson Hall and a Sunday matinee at North York’s George Weston Recital Hall with one piece excluded as noted:
-Dreydl – Olga Neuwirth (not included Sunday)
-Violin concerto – György Ligeti
–intermission–
-Plumes – Tansy Davies
-Symphony #7—Ludwig van Beethoven
Virtuosity was front and centre in each half of this remarkable concert.
We began with Olga Neuwirth’s exotic Dreydl in its Canadian premiere. The title connotes the spinning tops we know from Chanukkah. Neuwirth’s eleven minute curtain-raiser was my favorite piece on the entire program, making me want to find more of her music. I was reminded of the flamboyance of Bolero, the exotic suggestion of other cultures hinted at through long melodic lines and simple repeated patterns and rhythms. Dreydl isn’t as rigid in its shape as Ravel’s piece, which is another way of saying it’s far more interesting, its ethnicity elusive: or maybe that should be “allusive”. We have percussion as a backbone with synthesizer, guitar and eventual orchestral passages too, building something quite hypnotic. I think there were some odd bar lengths (or so it seemed as I watched Gimeno’s baton), but I’m not certain. It was a fabulous preparation for the Ligeti concerto that followed, getting everyone leaning forward in their seat for a piece that begins on the very threshold of audibility.
Jonathan Crow has assumed a higher profile as concertmaster than what we’ve been accustomed to in Toronto, between his artistic directorship of the Toronto Summer Music Festival, and his regular appearances as a soloist. With Ligeti’s challenging concerto Crow took an even bigger step.
Ligeti gives us a simple repeated group of notes in an open fifth that I found suggestive of the ambiguities of the beginning of time, something like the way Beethoven opens the 9th Symphony out of a kind of blank void. Before long Crow is playing lots of notes, but this isn’t the usual concerto by any means. After the short introductory movement the second movement gives us a plaintive aria from the violin that’s tonal, lyrical, reserved. Considering the edgy modernism we heard from Ligeti in the 1960s, that gave us the famous compositions heard in the film 2001 A Space Odyssey, this 1990s version of Ligeti seems considerably mellower, a mature thoughtful voice. The orchestra at times will pick up the thread, at times will seem to parody what the violin is doing, as for instance in a cohort of ocarina players making mockery of serious conservatory discipline. At one point, in turn, the violinist seems to be rebelling against what the orchestra is doing or saying in blunt forceful attacks on his instrument that are not the only time the orchestra and soloist seem to be in conflict. But there are also sections that look back at older forms, a theme passed between sections, sometimes compressed sometimes slower. In the last movement we’re hearing echoes of earlier movements not unlike what Beethoven gives us to open his 9th symphony, but not as a simple recapitulation. And perhaps to remind us that yes this is still a concerto, we end with a long cadenza. Crow is equal to the task of this virtuoso composition, one that is a million miles away from Paganini and the old idea of a concerto.
After intermission we had another new work, Tansy Davies’ Plumes in its North American premiere. While its five minutes went by quickly its elemental dissonance made a perfect setup for the pastoral splendors that open the Beethoven symphony that followed.
Full disclosure: I was very uncomfortable in the second half of the Beethoven symphony, trying not to be too much of a nuisance to those sitting nearby as I writhed with extreme pain from the sciatica I sometimes experience. It’s my own fault. should have stood up at intermission to walk around, instead of feverishly making notes. But I was also very grateful to Gustavo Gimeno for the fastest tempi I have ever encountered for these movements. How do you spell relief? “P-r-e-s-t-o.“
The first two movements were more conventional yet still on the quick side. It’s in the scherzo (presto) and the allegro finale that I was pondering virtuosity, pondering the way the performance was embraced by the audience. Yes quick readings are impressive. But there’s more to it than that. The conductor can’t simply put his foot on the gas pedal. At this pace, the articulation becomes harder, the risks of mishap are greater. Yet this orchestra again responded to Gimeno’s leadership, following him on the roller-coaster ride that is the last half of this symphony.
I found that I was thinking of my mom, who is hard of hearing. If I speak too quickly, or if there’s a family gathering where too many of us speak at once, she won’t understand. The experience of music is really the same, as it’s not so much a matter of what you hear as what you are able to discern / understand as far as the notes and voices. While symphonic music doesn’t have words (Beethoven’s Ode to Joy notwithstanding), it is still a kind of discourse, a series of notes from different voices that we hear and comprehend after a fashion. I remember the jarring impact when I first encountered historically informed performances of Mozart and Beethoven (thinking of Norrington, John Eliot Gardner, or Tafelmusik led by Bruno Weil) with their fast interpretations, wondering how it was understood back in the day of the original performances when the pieces were premiered. At first I wondered whether our hearing had changed, but then, especially noticing different approaches to romantics such as Mahler, Wagner and Strauss, it was clear that it was more a matter of taste (meaning the preferences of artists and their consensus about the music) that had changed. And of course that meant that tastes could change again.
All that is meant as a kind of preamble to my thoughts about Gimeno’s Beethoven. While I grew up listening to Klemperer and von Karajan, who were not just slower but more Wagnerian in their approach, that’s an old approach. They’re obsolete now. Their brass in the old days seemed to be more important possibly because in their interpretations that’s where they placed their emphasis, as if Mozart or Beethoven were early exponents of Wagner’s philosophies. Devoted Wagnerians seemed to see his influence everywhere, and played their Handel differently as well. But there are other ways to play this music, and maybe Beethoven wasn’t as Wagnerian as all that, not when one recalls Rossini and the Italian masters such as Domenico Scarlatti (who has his birthday today). Toscanini sometimes took the tempo very fast. I remember being a bit confused upon hearing his Beethoven 7th presto, which was faster than any I had ever encountered, even in its trio. The brass are still there but no longer treated like a climactic nugget of gold, but merely one voice among several. Perhaps Gimeno is true to his Latin roots, less German and more in the direction of a Toscanini. It’s certainly a legitimate option, and the audience ate it up, giving the orchestra a huge ovation afterwards.
But as I said, I was grateful for the brisk tempi of the last two movements, rescuing me from my sciatica.
Speaking of back, the TSO will be back, Thursday and Friday with the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, then back for this program Saturday & Sunday as noted above.
New Opera Lyra (NOL) completes The Gothic Trilogy with the world premiere of Andrew Ager’s The Mummy on October 27th. This follows the premieres of Frankenstein in 2019 and Dracula last season.
Andrew is co-artistic director of NOL, where his newest operatic adaptation, The Great Gatsby, will premiere in April 2024.
The old Opera Lyra were founded in 1984 and performed at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa, ceasing operations in 2015 due to financial difficulties.
New Opera Lyra is Ottawa’s newest Opera company, having begun in 2022 with an emphasis on Canadian talent. While there is a fair interest in new and contemporary works they also plan to do some of the classics. This is New Opera Lyra’s second full season with three fully staged productions. There’s no connection to the old company who used the National Arts Centre. Instead NOL use smaller venues than the NAC so far.
Creative team:
Andrew Ager & Suzanne Bassett- Co-Artistic Directors
I wanted to find out more about Andrew and his compositions.
Barczablog – Are you more like your father or your mother?
Andrew – Our house was filled with music day and night. My parents loved classical music. My sisters and I started music lessons at a very young age. I began composing around age fourteen.
Barczablog – What is the best or worst thing about what you do?
Andrew Ager – Composing is hard work. Performing is hard work. I do it from inner compulsion.
Barczablog – What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
Andrew Ager – I have a friend who is versatile beyond telling. I think he is cursed. I’m happy to do one thing.
Barczablog -When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?
Andrew Ager- I watch Russian cop shows.
Barczablog – What’s your favorite opera?
Andrew Ager – Hard to pick one – but Wagner’s operas are the summit for me, as well as Mussorgsky’s “Boris Godunov”
Barczablog – Please tell us about life before New Opera Lyra
Andrew Ager – I was busy as a composer and pianist, much like now. I was putting on shows independently. The difference now is that the projects are much larger and more complicated.
Barczablog -The Mummy is not your first opera with New Opera Lyra. What’s your history with NOL?
Andrew Ager- We produced “Frankenstein” and “Scrooge’s Christmas” in 2019. Covid cancelled the 2020-2021 season. In October 2022 we premiered “Dracula” to sold-out houses. In addition, I have been arranging music to be used in upcoming seasons.
Barczablog – What kind of music did you compose for The Mummy?
Andrew Ager – It is lush and exotic, but also menacing and eerie. It doesn’t sound like the other operas. I try to paint a different picture every time. Frankenstein was harsh and dark. Dracula was lyrical and tragic. The Mummy is certainly romantically tonal – and it is melodious. The main characters have arias
Barczablog – Is the Gothic trilogy meant to be presented as a whole, comparable to Wagner’s Ring Cycle, and if so does NOL plan to do so someday?
Andrew Ager – good question. It would make a great weekend trilogy. We’d like to do that someday. The cost would be enormous.
Barczablog – What is The Mummy like?
Andrew Ager – It is one act with five scenes, from the desert tomb to the Egyptologist’s home. The audience will love the character of The Mummy. He is dignified and imposing, yet also tragic. He has been taken from Paradise. There is great suspense – and fate takes its course. The Mummy has a Love Duet with his Queen and a solo aria in which he sings of his life in the ancient world.
The press release describes it this way:
An ancient world, hubris, revenge, yearning for lost love, dreams of timeless ages – all this awaits you in the world-premiere of New Opera Lyra Composer- in-Residence Andrew Ager’s The Mummy. Spend Halloween weekend with this spooky tale, two nights only at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, 82 Kent Street on Friday and Saturday, October 27th & 28th, 2023, at 7:30pm.
Barczablog – How do you reconcile wearing multiple hats, as an opera composer who is also the co-Artistic Director of NOL?
Andrew Ager – my position with NOL is a title. The work involved is everything from writing and arranging to playing and practicing for solo appearances. But it is all one thing.
Barczablog – Tell us about your cast for The Mummy.
Andrew Ager – The Mummy is Dylan Wright, a superb bass-baritone from Toronto. He was the understudy for Dracula last year. He brings great acting skills to his vocal performances.
The Pharaoh Queen is Carmen Harris, a soprano with experience in music theatre as well. She was Mina in Dracula, and was absolutely chilling.
The Egyptologist is tenor Iain Macpherson. He has a commanding voice and presence, but also an ability to project great tragedy in his performances.
The press release describes the cast this way:
Praised for “seducing the audience with his rich, sonorous voice” (Beat Magazine), Toronto-based Bass-Baritone, Dylan Wright makes his company debut in the title role of The Mummy. A graduate of the Atelier Lyrique de l’Opéra de Montréal, Wright’s interpretation promises to be a haunting one. Returning to the New Opera Lyra stage after the success of Dracula are company favourites Iain MacPherson (the Egyptologist), Doreen Taylor-Claxton (Margaret, his wife), Irina Medvedeva (Laura, their daughter) and Carmen Harris (Pharoah Queen). In-demand American opera director Mitchell Gillett makes his Canadian directorial debut with New Opera Lyra. NOL Resident Conductor Matthew Larkin returns to conduct. Fully staged, with a colourful instrumental ensemble, The Mummy will take you inside the tragic fate of those who awaken ancient honour and the mysterious forces of time.
Barczablog – What’s next for you with NOL
Andrew Ager – as mentioned, we’d love to do The Gothic Trilogy as a sort of festival. That would be very tricky financially, but you never know. We have planned, however, a return performance of Frankenstein in the 2024-25 season, as well as Rachmaninov’s love-tragedy “Aleko”. I received a City of Ottawa grant to arrange that for our resources.
Barczablog – Do you have a vision for NOL, as far as the development of opera in Ottawa,
Andrew Ager – To be honest, we have no idea about the future of opera in Ottawa. We can only present one season at a time and see where it goes. However, people love theatre and music. They really loved our previous productions.
Barczablog – Who does what on the leadership team?
Andrew Ager– that’s easy. I write music and Suzanne, my wife, does much of the paperwork. She is also our co-librettist and will be directing both “Scrooge’s Christmas” and “The Great Gatsby”. She also directed “Frankenstein”.
We have a great team of assistants. It would be impossible without them. We also have numerous volunteers, whose contributions are invaluable.
NEW OPERA LYRA, 2023-24 SEASON
” Classic Tales, New Operas” https://www.newoperalyra.ca/
WORLD PREMIERE The Mummy by Andrew Ager
Friday and Saturday October 27th & 28th, 2023 at 7:30pm
St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church
Direct link for tickets newoperalyra.eventbrite.com
When you’re watching your dog prowling in the back-yard and the phrase “with cat-like tread” pops into your head, you know Gilbert and Sullivan must be on your mind.
Of course I knew I was going to attend the Toronto Operetta Theatre dress rehearsal of The Pirates of Penzance. Because Erika was going away for the entire weekend, and I was left at home to watch Barkley the Beagle, (whose tread is not cat-like at all), it was a lucky break that TOT artistic director Guillermo Silva-Marin allowed me to see the rehearsal tonight instead. But it was a polished show even if there was no audience.
Gilbert and Sullivan are right in the TOT wheel-house, precisely matching their skillsets. The chorus were clear in their diction, the orchestra led by conductor Jennifer Tung crisp and musical, the tempi fast enough to energize the cast without losing any clarity.
[added next morning] Oh! And I forgot to mention the changed orchestral configuration , placing them off to the side rather than in a narrow pit at the front. You can see a music stand in the picture, stage left. This improved our visual contact from the audience with the players onstage, without being blocked as in the past with that narrow orchestra pit. I’m not sure if this is the first time TOT did this, but I’d credit conductor Jennifer Tung for following from a more awkward location. As far as I can tell, this is more common in music theatre (I remember doing it in the 1970s, when it was seen as an innovation) but nowadays it’s normal. Yet perhaps it’s not common in the opera & operetta world.
I was grateful to escape into this world of honour and promises, laughing often at the play as written as well as the additions from Guillermo and his cast.
Alexander Cappellazzo added the comedy of his portrayal of Frederic to an impressive resume of vocal & curatorial work I’ve been observing this year.
He’s a fine actor with a lovely voice and a natural unaffected delivery, so that one easily gets lost in his performance.
Ana Isabella Castro is a bit of a revelation, with a voice and delivery as Mabel belying her youth. Guillermo mentioned that she had performed with SOLT, his summer program for young singers. Yes it’s great when performers are young but one doesn’t expect to see so much polish, such exquisite coloratura, such a warm creamy tone. I expect we’ll be hearing quite a bit more from her.
Greg Finney as the Major-General brought his welcome comic gifts to the proceedings, energizing everyone around him with his brilliant timing and a strong voice.
Karen Bojti as Ruth has some wonderful moments. It’s such fun watching someone who laughs so convincingly that suddenly I find myself laughing along with her.
Sebastien Belcourt had an enjoyable night as The Pirate King, vocally and physically inhabiting the role with a confident swagger.
Pirates opens the first of three performances Friday night at Jane Mallett Theatre at the St Lawrence Centre.
I heard that OperOttawa are presenting Mozart’s The Magic Flute, an opera I’ve heard called misogynistic, in November with a cast that’s 100% female!
I had to ask their their artistic director Norman E Brown about it.
Barczablog: Do the men’s roles get played by women (as trouser roles) OR are the women actually playing some or all roles as women? If the latter, does the story change: and how?
Norman E. Brown: The female singers play female characters. In the case of those roles traditionally sung by men, we have changed the names: for example – Princess Tamina, Sarastra, Pipogena, and Monostatas.
These are not pants roles in any way.
Synopsis of the ALL FEMALE version
A mythical land between the sun and the moon. Three ladies in the service of the Queen of the Night save Princess Tamina from a serpent. When they leave to tell the Queen, the birdcatcher Pipogena appears. She boasts to Tamina that it was she who killed the creature. The ladies return to give Tamina a portrait of the Queen’s daughter, Pamina, who they say has been enslaved by the evil Sarastra. Tamina immediately falls in love with the girl’s picture.
The Queen, appearing in a burst of thunder, tells Tamina about the loss of her daughter and commands her to rescue her. The ladies give a magic flute to Tamina and silver bells to Pipogena to ensure their safety on the journey and appoint three spirits to guide them.
Sarastra’s slave Monostatas pursues Pamina but is frightened away by Pipogena. The birdcatcher tells Pamina that Tamina loves her and is on her way to save her. Led by the three spirits to the temple of Sarastra, Tamina learns from a high priestess that it is the Queen, not Sarastra, who is evil. Hearing that Pamina is safe, Tamina rushes off to follow the sound of Pipogena’s pipes.
Monostatas chases Pipogena and Pamina but is left helpless when Pipogena plays her magic bells. Sarastra enters in great ceremony. She punishes Monostatas and promises Pamina that she will eventually set her free. Pamina catches a glimpse of Tamina, who is led into the temple with Pipogena.
Sarastra tells the priestesses that Tamina will undergo initiation rites. Monostatas tries to kiss Pamina but is surprised by the appearance of the Queen of the Night. The Queen gives her daughter a dagger and orders her to murder Sarastra.
Sarastra finds the desperate Pamina and consoles her, explaining that she is not interested in vengeance. Tamina and Pipogena are told by a priestess that they must remain silent and are not allowed to eat, a vow that Pipogena immediately breaks when she takes a glass of water from a flirtatious old lady. When she asks her name, the old lady vanishes. The three spirits appear to guide Tamina through the rest of her journey and to tell Pipogena to be quiet. Tamina remains silent even when Pamina appears. Misunderstanding her vow for coldness, she is heartbroken.
The priestesses inform Tamina that she has only two more trials to complete her initiation. Pipogena, who has given up on entering the sisterhood, longs for a wife instead. She eventually settles for the old lady. When she promises to be faithful she turns into a beautiful young Papagena but immediately disappears.
Pamina and Tamina are reunited and face the ordeals of water and fire together, protected by the magic flute.
Pipogena tries to hang herself on a tree but is saved by the three spirits, who remind her that if she uses her magic bells she will find true happiness. When she plays the bells, Papagena appears and the two start making family plans.
The Queen of the Night, her three ladies, and Monostatas attack the temple but are defeated and banished. Sarastra blesses Pamina and Tamina as all join in hailing the triumph of courage, virtue, and wisdom.
Barczablog: How does the plot work if all are female? If there is anything new/changed, please break it down for us in your new version, what is the nature of the contention / conflict between Sarastra and the Queen of Night , and how will the couples (Tamino & Pamina, Papageno & Papagena) work?
Norman E. Brown: The idea of doing an all female version of Magic Flute definitely posed some challenges with respect to the plot, and the relationships. The only solution is to let the audience interpret as they wish. The relationship between Tamina and Pamina is clearly a case of same-sex attraction, as is between Pipogena and Papagena. But, at the end of the day – Love is Love!
Barczablog: There are misogynistic lines in the libretto. Are you leaving the text intact? Or fixing it / altering it?
Norman E. Brown In addition to changing names, as well as pronouns etc. I have rewritten all the dialogues keeping it in the vernacular of the audience in English but also shortening it substantially. With an all female cast it was a no-brainer to remove all misogynistic text from the dialogue and libretto.
Barczablog: What will the speaker decry if he becomes a she..? (current libretto says in reply to Tamino’s report that Pamina has been kidnapped, as told by mother of Pamina: “a woman told you this” in a dismissive tone.)
Norman E. Brown We have changed words such as Herr to Frau, Männer to Leute and tried to keep things fairly neutral.
Barczablog: What vocal type do they sing (ie is the person singing Tamino still using a higher voice than the person singing Sarastro, even when it’s gender-switched? )
Norman E. Brown The female roles such as Pamina, the Queen, the 3 Ladies, the 3 Spirits etc will be sung as is. But, the changed roles will be sung up an octave, for example Tamina is a soprano, Sarastra is a mezzo, Pipogena is a mezzo, and Monostatas is a soprano. It will be most interesting to hear the resulting sound and harmonies with all the voices in the same region of the voice.
Basically a role sung by a tenor is sung by a soprano; baritone by a mezzo and bass by a mezzo with great low notes.
If I were to do something similar, be it with a remount of Magic Flute or recreate another opera, I would twist the gender-blend concept a bit more and do a 100% gender change. Female roles sung by men and male roles sung by women. I would have to choose carefully since I can see how in some operas it might not work, dramatically or vocally. But what tenor has not dreamed of (and probably tried) singing say, the Queen of the Night.
Barczablog: Interesting. I think the arias in Don Giovanni for Donna Elvira and especially Donna Anna sound more masculine, truly ballsier than anything Don Ottavio gets to sing. I used to sing (or try to sing) “Or sai chi l’onore” which would be the most macho thing ever, if it weren’t for the gender(!), and also “Ah chi mi dice mai” . They might require a heldentenor voice.
Your future projects sound intriguing…(!)
So, who is singing in your production?
CAST
Pamina – Erinne-Colleen Laurin, soprano
Tamina – Kathleen Radke, soprano
Sarastra – Carole Portelance, mezzo
Queen of the Night – Ania Hejnar, soprano
Pipogena – Beverly McArthur, mezzo
Speaker – Mary Zborowski , mezzo
First Lady – Stéphanie Brassard, soprano
Second Lady – Isabella Cuminato, mezzo
Third Lady – Pauline van der Roest, mezzo
First Spirit – Melanie Anderson, soprano
Second Spirit – Sherrie Spelchuk, soprano
Third Spirit – Jean-e Hudson, mezzo
Monostatas- Silke Schwarz, soprano
Papagena – Katie Gratton, soprano
Priestess/Guard 1 – Patricia Beckett, soprano
Priestess/Guard 2 – Brenda Haddock, Colleen Woodhouse, mezzos
Priestess of Sarastra – Diane Reid, soprano
Priestess of Sarastra – Sue Postlethwaite, female tenor
Conductor – Norman E. Brown
Several of our cast have sung Magic Flute before either in chorus or excerpts. Some have sung one or more of the roles written for women.
Barczablog: How do the singers feel about singing a role usually sung by a man, that is not a pants role?
Norman E. Brown
From our Sarastra Carole Portelance
Carole Portelance:
Singing the role of Sarastro as a female (thus, Sarastra!) has proven to be its own special challenge, unlike any role I have had to sing so far. Naturally, as a mezzo-soprano, I’m singing this role one octave up from the original. While that makes it feasible for me to sing it, I’ve found that my voice type can’t help but fundamentally change the characterization of the role. Sarastra’s voice is now not only higher, but, by necessity, relatively lighter – she is, after all, singing a Mozartian role, not a Wagnerian one! Thus, she now comes across as a more lyrical (and perhaps motherly) character.
Lighter does not mean less power, of course, and Sarastra’s voice must still have the same capacity to move the other characters and the audience (especially with those low notes!). And just to be very clear, singing this role as a female, with a female voice does not take away any of the gravitas and authority of the role! But, the challenge remains to portray the wisdom and power of this now female Sarastra in the spirit that Mozart intended, with a higher and relatively lighter voice, without subconsciously trying to imitate what a basso profundo would do! I certainly hope this makes sense. It has been quite a journey discovering Sarastra!
Norman E. Brown:
From our Tamina Kathleen Radke
Kathleen Radke:
About singing a tenor role
Having sung the role of Pamina, being Tamina will be very interesting. I get to interpret the story from the other side and I am looking forward to it. I see her as a very “Lawful good” character – pure of heart with nothing but good intentions. Yes, it’s strange to sing a traditionally tenor role but I’m enjoying it.
Look out tenors – I’m coming for your girl and your roles!
Barczablog: Papageno & Papagena are the most normal heterosexual couple going talking about having little ones, etc….. How does it work in your version ?
Norman E. Brown Love is love, and in today’s society same-sex couples are fairly common, and there are so many options available in planning for a family. Why should Pipogena and Papagena be any different.
Barczablog: Will there be any chorus in your version?
Norman E. Brown In the OperOttawa production of Magic Flute there are no cuts. All the choruses are intact. And will be sung in four part harmonies as in the original. The OperOttawa ensemble of females is quite strong as was evidenced by their spectacular performance and singing in Suor Angelica (September 2023)
Angelica sung by Kathleen Radke
Barczablog: Is this approach to Magic Flute driven by population of available talent (as usual there are so many women, and few men?), or just for fun…(?)
Norman E. Brown One of reasons I chose do an entire season only using female voices (Suor Angelica, an all female Magic Flute, and a world premiere Requiem by Hui Litster written specifically for female voices in March 2024) is the fact that there are so many amazing female singers in and around Ottawa who are underutilized. In a typical show I can perhaps hire 2 sopranos, and 1 mezzo, the rest being men. That, and the fact I like to think “outside the box” and do things differently, evidenced by setting Suor Angelica in a Catholic girls’ high school full of very delinquent students instead of a convent of nuns.
Barczablog: Is Monostatos (or “Monostatas”) and lines spoken by them / at them changed in any other way, besides gender, given the racist tone of some of the lines..?
Norman E. Brown The only change made in Monostatas’ singing text was to change the word black to bald – she will be wearing a “bald” wig when she speaks about reasons no one loves her.
Barczablog: Will you address any of this either in your publicity, your in-house program or during the show? (perhaps pre-show chat?)
Norman E. Brown Without giving away too much of the surprise, our publicity and marketing only mentions an all female production, sung in German, dialogue in English, with full orchestra.
As part of OperOttawa’s continuing growth last Spring we produced Handel’s ALCINA using full baroque orchestra, then with Suor Angelica in September we had an even larger orchestra and now for Magic Flute we will have our largest orchestra yet!
Barczablog: Do you have any future possible gender-bender shows in mind?
Norman E. Brown I have already shortlisted several operas for our 2024-25 season. There will definitely be a few “surprises “ in store and there could be occasion for some gender-bending or twisting. We shall wait and see.
Productions like these rely heavily on two sources of revenue. Ticket sales, which, have not totally returned to pre-Covid levels, and government grants, which are always welcome but becoming harder and harder to access.
*****
OperOttawa present The Magic Flute in their All Female version on November 26 at 2:30 pm at First Baptist Church.
Last night I went to see Topdog/Underdog by Suzan-Lori Parks, promoted as “The Greatest American Play of the past 25 years” according to the NY Times and identified as “a darkly comic fable” in one of the ads.
Directed by Tawiah M’Carthy, presented by Canadian Stage at the Baillie Theatre on Berkeley St. we watch Mazin Elsadig (Booth) and Sébastien Heins (Lincoln) for two and one half hours inhabiting a small stage resembling a boxing ring. We will hear bells ring as though a round has begun or ended.
I felt out of step with an audience including a large teenaged contingent of students lending their nervous energy to the proceedings. The play includes a fair sprinkling of profanity, moments when condoms and porn magazines are prominently discussed to great hilarity especially among the youthful cohort.
Some will see more comedy in this story than others. I was feeling down, having received some scary news about a friend just before the show. While I am usually the guy with the loud obnoxious laugh in the audience I was quiet throughout. Even so the play managed to make me laugh a few times, in spite of myself. We’re watching a huge number of lines delivered quickly over two and a half hours, a bit of a tour de force by two actors going head to head as if they were actually boxing. The skill level is nothing short of brilliant.
Did you catch that? The names are Booth and Lincoln. A pair of brothers, black men named by a father with a curious sense of humour, Lincoln happens to have a job wearing whiteface impersonating the famous guy in the stovepipe hat, as people pay for the privilege of shooting him.
Worried about the possibility of losing his job to a mannequin, Lincoln practices hamming it up while dying. That part makes for incredible physical comedy. He believes this job is more dignified than what he used to do, as a card player. This isn’t the only time we hear someone say something jaw-dropping that they believe whole-heartedly. It’s hard to watch when someone is being taken, being fooled or being tormented. I suppose that’s the essence of comedy, that we watch a clown fall down or lose his girl-friend to another clown. But to the clown it’s horrible.
Booth is more intent on card-playing, even though he’s nowhere near as sharp as his brother and doesn’t really understand the essence of the game.
This is a family drama even though we never meet the parents. But we are hearing about them regularly, their impact hanging in the conflicted air, their legacy hidden away, money kept as a treasured remnant from the past for a possible future. We are watching Booth and Lincoln sparring, talking about past lovers and past jobs, current dreams and future hopes. At times they are supportive of one another, at times they are fighting one another. They’re just like real brothers.
It can be a bit daunting to confront a work of art that carries a label affirming its greatness. If you like it, all well and good, when you enjoy something that you are supposed to like.
But when you’re conflicted or troubled in the presence of that work what does that say about you? Wuthering Heights was on TV last night, a story I have been unable to penetrate because I find its sadness so unrelenting. Topdog/Underdog is a million miles away from the Bronte novel (or its various film incarnations), even though I see all sorts of parallels. However much one admires the writing, the performances, the artistry of all concerned, your love of theatre will collide head-on with the darkness of this piece. There are resonances for me with other great works that I can’t stand to see too often, such as Beckett’s Godot or a dark tragedy such as King Lear, presenting images of futility and inevitability.
We’re watching a lot of card-playing, as Booth is endlessly practicing three-card monte, which is not really winnable. That pushes buttons for me. Booth doesn’t fully understand the nuances of the game. I was reminded of a friend I have who pours all his available money into various attempts to get rich. He plays the track, betting on football and hockey, always buying lottery tickets. I’ve heard lotteries described as a tax on the poor, given that many of the people betting can’t afford it. One might call this tragic if it weren’t so avoidable. Gambling is an addiction. I find it darkly depressing, knowing how it works for my friend, and was reminded of him by poor lovable Booth. I must sound moralistic, but it’s only in context with this play and how it hit me. When Booth discovers the meaning of the word “mark”, and that he has been the mark it hits him hard, with predictable results.
What’s magical about Booth and Lincoln is how in spite of their conflicts and struggles they sometimes do show loyalty to one another, brotherly love in a tough situation. Poverty doesn’t daunt them. even if one can’t miss the destiny laid upon them by the names and their circumstances. The dialogue is masterfully written, executed beautifully by these two men, their presence so vital and alive in the intimate space.
I was grateful for the young students in the theatre, watching them captivated by the magic of the show. The audience surrounding the tight space on two sides give us the additional spectacle of the audience responses to the performances.
Topdog/Underdog continues at Canadian Stage’s Berkeley St theatre, held over until October 22nd.
When I interviewed Alex Cappellazzo a few weeks ago I asked: what does “Apocryphonia” mean?
But tonight I found myself thinking about another question (and seeing the answer before me), namely what do we understand by “authenticity?”
It came up in a conversation about the COC’s Fidelio in front of our venue, the Heliconian Hall. A chorister friend of mine explained director Matthew Ozawa’s rationale for putting women and children onstage with the male prisoners. Apparently this came from Ozawa’s subtexts namely
1-that some of his Japanese American family members were interned during WW II,
2-the caging of children at the southern border of USA
Ozawa’s choices, connecting the opera production to his personal experience, make the piece seem truly authentic.
That’s all meant as preamble to talking about Alex Cappellazzo, whose program purports to celebrate women while exploring music that’s almost completely unknown, or that’s at least what he says. Alex also sings without guile, throwing himself into his programs fearlessly. So the reason I speak of authenticity is because I think Alex is the real thing, totally genuine. I saw him delighting in the performances of the music he assembled for us, closing his eyes while they played or sang. Alex gave personal reasons for wanting to celebrate women who resist oppression.
So while one might mistake Apocryphonia for a pretentious artsy-fartsy project at first glance, the audience was very enthusiastic, and Alex puts himself out there, as he explores obscure music that he likes. He explained Ginastera and Amirov via his own experience and his taste mentioning progressive rockers Emerson Lake & Palmer.
The program led me to a fork in the road. As a blogger I feel a responsibility to understand what I’m seeing and hearing, to be able to write about it. Meanwhile, I didn’t want to be a nuisance, looking at my phone to follow the texts for the pieces being sung (as this is where the translations were found).
As I was sitting in the front row I was afraid the light from my phone would be disruptive. So I chose to quickly glance at my phone, then shut it off, surrendering to the performances. Maybe that’s a better way to listen, and to really see the artists.
The concert was divided in half, one composer for each half.
The name of the concert “GinasterAmirov” is a reminder of the letter “A”, combining two surnames (Alberto Ginastera and Fikret Amirov), their nationalities (Argentinian and Azerbaijani), and the presenting organization (Apocryphonia).
It’s also the most common vowel in the names of their artistic director (Alexander Cappellazzo), their soprano soloist (Thera Barclay) and pianist (Narmina Afandiyeva).
In each half of the concert, the works were broken up, alternating between the vocal works (accompanied by piano) and the piano solo movements. We’d have a movement of a piano sonata, then a song or perhaps a couple of arias, and back to the sonata, and so on. It made every moment seem fresh and new, emphasizing contrast.
The first half was split between Ginastera’s song cycle Las Horas de una Estancia Op 11 from 1943 and his piano sonata no 1 from 1952. The cycle describes the cycle of a day in five segments from night to morning to afternoon and eventually the night. The songs have a broad emotional range yet they are mostly tranquil & lyrical in comparison to the explosive movements of the piano sonata, played passionately for us by Narmina. It was especially exciting sitting so close to the Steinway, watching her volcanic energy.
After intermission it was the alternation between Amirov’s Romantic Sonata for piano from 1946, that Alex said might have been getting its Canadian premiere in these concerts (there was one in Richmond Hill yesterday), and excerpts from Sevil, a 1953 opera. The last scene reminded me a bit of Carmen, scaring me with its intensity until I was sure that the frustrated male was not going to emulate Don José’s murderous wrath, but rather accept his dismissal by the brave heroine. Perhaps the opera was ahead of its time, with its refusal to do the usual killing off of the diva as in Carmen, but I’m ready for this lovely alternative. And this is surely a great reason why Amirov’s opera deserves to be heard, especially considering the glorious music. Alex and Thera raised the roof in their last duet.
I’ll keep my eyes out for these artists, who were all so brilliant tonight.
barczablog 