Voicebox /Opera in Concert offered a highlight in a splendid week of music theatre in Toronto, reminding us of why they are such a crucial part of the mix in this city with their concert performance of Schubert’s Fierabras today. Hook Up from Tapestry at Passe Muraille was a brand-new musical, and then the Wagner done by the Toronto Symphony gave us some amazing voices with the playing from the TSO. But this was a chance to hear a genuine rarity, done with wonderful care & some tremendous singing.
Like Beethoven, Franz Schubert was a transitional composer from the classical to the romantic, known for several different types of music. While Schubert wrote many more operas (the number could be as high as 20) than Beethoven (who composed but one), none of Schubert’s are ever staged, unlike Fidelio, Beethoven’s single operatic masterpiece. I’m very grateful to Guillermo Silva-Marin, OiC’s Artistic Director for programming this gem, full of beautiful music that we’ll probably never hear again.
Conductor Kevin Mallon
Kevin Mallon conducted the ten players of Aradia in his arrangement of the work, adding a movement from the Schubert Octet as overture. I’m clear as to why Schubert’s operas aren’t performed: at least if they’re like this one, thanks to what we heard today. I don’t think I can possibly calibrate the importance of Mallon’s input except to say that he made the entire thing possible.
It’s very challenging music, especially for the men. If we hadn’t been in the welcoming acoustic of the Jane Mallett Theatre (which seats fewer than 500), and if Mallon hadn’t orchestrated for such a small ensemble, it would have been brutal in a bigger theatre with a big orchestra. And it gets worse…(!) Even as it was, I had the distinct impression that Schubert’s idea of opera if very different from that of any other composer. The men are often above the passagio (the transition zone of the vocal registers), or in other words at times it’s very tough. There is a huge amount of choral writing in this opera, so in addition to a number of extraordinarily difficult roles for the men –already the likely deal-breaker for a company considering the work—the men’s choral writing is relentlessly difficult. The women’s chorus have a fair bit to do as well, but not as murderous. Robert Cooper, the OiC Chorus’s Director did a masterful job preparing them. Did I mention that the plot is very complex? I heard more than a few in attendance joking about the challenges of following the story. So in other words, there are several good reasons why one never hears this Schubert opera even though the music is stunningly beautiful.
I’m not sure who had the toughest role, only that I was staring in disbelief more than once. Lance Wiliford –the co-artistic director of Canadian-Art Song Project and therefore a singer we’d expect to be comfortable with Schubert’s song rep—gave a textbook demonstration of perfect technique, handling a considerable number of high notes with apparent ease. Matthew Dalen with a heavier sound than Wiliford’s also soared impressively in the title role.
Tenor Lawrence (Lance) Wiliford (photo: Aldeburgh Music, UK)
In this story conflating tales of romantic love and wars of conquest, the testosterone on the stage was unmistakeable. Much of the baritone writing resembled what Beethoven created for the tyrant Pizarro, which is to say quick macho declamation that wasn’t terribly pretty to hear nor very believable dramatically. Evan Korbut, Alex Dobson & Justin Welsh all had their masculine moments, although by the end some lines were so melodramatic as to give the audience the giggles. The two contrasting female leads were both wonderfully well-sung. Where Amy Moodie’s sound had the lightness and deft accuracy of a coloratura role –but without the coloratura—Jocelyn Fralick had a more dramatic sound, as well as one of the few staged moments in the opera, when she’s required to pass out on the stage (done quite believably).
The funny thing that occurred to me watching all these people in formal attire was how much more believable that made it than had it been costumed. Silly and tangled as the plot was, imagining it sung with knights in armour made me wonder how it would have looked in the time (although the opera never made it to the stage during the composer’s short life). The tuxedoes served to reconcile the extremes of plot –warfare & romance—in a curiously believable middle ground. At times I thought we were watching a director’s theatre approach to the opera, presented with the musical numbers sung in German but with English dialogue.
(a thought I’ve added the next morning: in other words, imagine that instead of clothing that distinguishes between the two warring sides, as separate colour schemes or even costuming to suggest different cultures, you have everyone dressed identically: arguably reflecting the theme of the story. that we’re all the same after all).
I’m very grateful for their spectacular efforts today.
Voicebox / Opera in Concert are back for Kurt Weill’s The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny March 30th & 31st.
If you’re a fan of the music of Richard Wagner chances are you’re fully aware that the Toronto Symphony are showcasing some of his best known music this week, in a concert tonight that repeats Saturday Feb 2nd. After three consecutive years of Ring Cycle thrills 2015-16-17 from the Canadian Opera Company we hit a two year drought since Götterdämmerung.
So you must get a ticket to the Saturday concert for your fix of big powerful voices, passionate tunes & hair-raising climaxes. You won’t hear better singing anytime soon (sorry COC). There are several reasons to go, as I shall elaborate.
Yes the three nights of the Ring operas are over four hours each plus the one-act prologue that’s two and a half hours. Our 90 minute concert tonight was a delicious hors d’oeuvre, an appetizer. But then again, considering how exhausting some of those operas can be, this felt complete:
a concert performance of the first act of Die Walküre perhaps Wagner’s most popular opera
his best known melody, that five minute bon bon from later in the same opera aka “The Ride of the Valkyries.”
In between the Wagner performances came Berg’s Three Pieces for Orchestra.
And yet there were lots of empty seats. Perhaps they didn’t know about the concert? I only spotted it a few days ago but of course I go to things compulsively and scour schedules to make sure I don’t miss things. When I saw this my heart skipped a beat.
In the spirit of Wagner, who denies you cadences and harmonic resolutions to keep you tied up in knots & hanging on, and all hot & bothered: let me first address the first half of the concert, and keep you waiting concerning the main event.
We began with the tune everyone knows. No this is not what we heard in Apocalypse Now. That sequence with the helicopters was the proper beginning to Act III with the soprano voices. In case you’ve ever wondered why Coppola put that music in the film, (preposterous and unlikely as it is), this is music that celebrates war. The first time I saw that film –as someone who grew up listening to Die Walküre –I felt like I was being ripped apart, torn in two by the contrary emotions of this orgiastic celebration of war (helicopters dropping napalm to those ecstatic soprano voices) while watching innocent villagers get shot and incinerated. Now if you take out the voices, you’re listening to a really cool melody in the trombones plus lots of swirling strings, all meant to accompany a vocal line: that’s missing. After about two minutes it gets very repetitive, but come to think of it, so are most of these orchestral gems (The Sabre Dance? Flight of the Bumblebee?), pieces of music for a different sort of audience. Oh well, the audience ate it up.
This is not the same Andrew Davis I knew when he first led the Toronto Symphony decades ago. He’s gone away and matured. When he conducted Ariadne auf Naxos a few years ago with the COC we already saw a new larger than life persona, who’s been back for such adventures as his brassy Messiah that the TSO recorded. He is a magisterial presence, a steady hand on the tiller with a mischievous smile.
Sir Andrew Davis (Photo: Jaime Hogge)
Davis seemed very comfortable with Wagner & the riderless horses that this piece implies (given that the sopranos / Valkyries riding the horses are missing from this version). And then he came out to do the Peter Oundjian thing at the microphone, introducing the second item on the program. After a pregnant pause he took the stage, going much deeper than any talk I can recall from Peter, bless his heart. I’m guessing that Peter was mindful of his audience & his mission, aimed to educate and to be inclusive, and so was studious in the KISS principle: keep it simple, Scarberian, (or whatever else S might stand for). Berg is like the bastard child of the Ring; no I don’t mean in the way Siegfried is the outcome of a wild night on the forest floor for the fleeing Wälsung twins, so much as the musical outcome of what Wagner started, namely modernism. I loved Davis’s off the cuff style, explaining how we got to Berg and in the process making sense out of this curious program. While it was a wild & woolly Ride, complete with a trombone coming in a whole bar early (well the piece does seem to vamp until ready… except trombones are supposed to count, not make the whole orchestra adjust & make the conductor blush): all was forgiven. The Berg was a remarkably delicate affair for the first part, gradually building to big climaxes. The great thing about this piece is that I wouldn’t have a clue if someone played a wrong note or an entire wrong page. It sounded great.
And then after intermission we came to the reason most of us were there.
Let me begin by saying a heart-felt “it’s about time”. Every rinky dink opera outfit in the GTA gives us projected titles with a translation. Thank you Roy Thomson Hall for catching up to something the COC first did in 1983. So that was a mighty step forward. We shouldn’t have to juggle programs when something is being sung in a foreign language, opera or oratorio or whatever else it might be. Hopefully this will be the new normal.
This concert performance of the Act I showcased many talents:
Soprano Lise Davidsen as Sieglinde
Tenor Simon O’Neill as Siegmund
Bass Brindley Sherratt as Hunding
The conducting of Davis: not at all who he used to be
And assorted solos in the TSO…. Joseph Johnson was particularly affecting in two brilliant solos, especially the first one, as Siegmund begins to fall for Sieglinde. O’Neill stared at JJ as though dumbstruck by the beauty coming out of that cello. No wonder he falls in love.
It’s not fair to compare this to a fully staged performance. O’Neill doesn’t have to struggle with a real sword, Davidsen doesn’t have to actually get a drink for Siegmund or drug her hubby. No costumes or sets might be an advantage, though, in the era of Regietheater, productions that sometimes overwrite the opera with new meanings. And it’s a whole different animal to sing Sieglinde for three acts, or Siegmund for two (he doesn’t live to see Act III), as opposed to what we got tonight: which is still lots to sing.
While I won’t deny that I’ve got some Dalwhinnie in a glass as I gather my thoughts before sleeping, I’m sober in my assessments. I’ve heard a great many Sieglindes in my time, both on record and some live. This performance from Davidsen is the most accurately sung sensuous singing I’ve yet heard in the role. The lower part of the range is like butterscotch ice cream, so rich as to seem decadent and so good I kept wanting more (and she will be the reason I come back Saturday if I can manage it: as should you). It might be the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. I want to say it can’t last, because she’s young and singing rep that 30 year olds don’t normally undertake (and btw I don’t know her age, but she looks even younger). The approach seems natural, unaffected. The sound emerges without struggle possibly because of her size, as she stands 1.88 meters tall, towering over the others onstage with her. With each successively higher note (it’s written so that she hits a G, then a G-sharp and finally an A) she showed more power, perhaps a tiny bit sharp on the A, which was preferable to flat. I mention that only because except for that she was perfect, the voice powerful, emerging without apparent effort. I think it’s fair to say that she has a brilliant future ahead of her.
O’Neill is in some respects the exact opposite even as he portrays her twin. You can hear recordings of his intelligent singing from years ago, and that’s basically what we got tonight. He has excellent technique, a committed portrayal dramatically with crystal clear diction & impeccable pitch on every single note. Maybe that’s what people expect in a concert performance: but Siegmund is challenging. The colour is lighter than what some singers give us, more of a McCracken than a Vickers or a Kaufmann, which is another way of saying that he is a tenor without darkening into a baritonal sound. This man is reliable, and will give you the high notes that make the climactic moments work so well.
Here’s an example of him singing part of what we heard tonight. Notice the commitment, the perfect technique & accurate pitch
I don’t know Brindley Sherratt, but maybe I should..? He reminded me instantly of Gottlob Frick, a bass with a wonderfully dark direct delivery. Again, he was note-perfect. This was a classic reading without anything quirky or unexpected, very musical.
Davis gave us some magic. In the earlier part of Hunding’s role, when so many orchestras think their job is to make the brass loud as if they were all MAGA hat wearers playing their music ALL IN UPPER CASE (in other words, without subtlety or guile), this was a revelation. Aha, what if Hunding is observing Wehwalt (as they initially call Siegmund), seeing the resemblance between his wife & the newcomer, singing sotto voce while the brass were crisp but shooting brief little bursts..? As a result we could hear everything perfectly, without necessitating exhaustion for Sherratt: or any other singer come to think of it. Davis let it all build gradually. The big climaxes were never overly loud, under control, and musical. The emphasis on beauty rather than pure volume was noticeable.
And I need to mention something from today on Facebook. As I walked to visit a customer today in the extreme cold of Toronto’s morning, and I recalled a piece of music that makes me shiver, I asked friends what music makes them shiver: given that we’re already shivering, right? The culmination of that thought was in the moment during the concert when the (virtual) sword comes out of the (virtual) tree, a sound very much like an orchestral orgasm: and no Wagner was not blind to the implications of all this talk about a sword. The moment in question Davis and the TSO gave me colossal shivers as the whole orchestra simulated the convulsions in the viscera of the twins, glimpsing the sword pulled out of its sheath.
The three singers were entirely believable in their portrayals, delightful to hear. You won’t hear Wagner again in Toronto for a long time, and certainly won’t hear singing like this, perhaps ever. This is what Roy Thomson Hall is really good for, namely big loud performances from a big large orchestra. The program repeats Saturday Feb 2nd at 8:00 pm.
Opera Atelier Announces 2019/20 Season of Sinners and Saints
Company Unveils 34th Season Featuring Daring Juxtaposition of Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Handel’s The Resurrection
Toronto, ON — Opera Atelier is thrilled to announce a dramatic 2019/20 season with two wildly varying masterworks in two distinctly different venues: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Don Giovanni from October 31–November 9, 2019, in the Ed Mirvish Theatre, and George Frideric Handel’s The Resurrection from April 11–19, 2020, at Koerner Hall. Both productions include the full corps of Artists of Atelier Ballet with choreography by Founding Co-Artistic Director Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg, and the renowned Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra led by Elisa Citterio under the baton of Opera Atelier Music Director David Fallis.
Opera Atelier’s award-winning production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni features American bass-baritone Douglas Williams who will make his role debut as the Don, alongside a stellar cast of Opera Atelier’s favourite singers — who act much like a repertory theatre company. The production includes Meghan Lindsay as Donna Anna, Stephen Hegedus as Leporello, Carla Huhtanen in her role debut as Donna Elvira, Mireille Asselin as Zerlina, Olivier Laquerre as Masetto, and Gustav Andreassen as Commendatore. The production also features Martha Mann’s award-winning costume designs, Gerard Gauci’s extravagant sets, and lighting design by Michelle Ramsay. The season continues the company’s important relationship with Mirvish Productions by taking place in the beautiful Ed Mirvish Theatre.
“Our audience has made it clear they are longing for us to return to the Mozart production, which had its premiere in 2011,” says Opera Atelier Founding Co-Artistic Director Marshall Pynkoski. “Mozart himself referred to Don Giovanni as an opera buffa and it is in this spirit that we present our commedia dell’arte inspired production.”
Lajeunesse Zingg adds: “Douglas displayed such an astonishing facility both for comedy in Opera Atelier’s The Marriage of Figaro in 2017 and sexually charged danger in Monteverdi’s The Return of Ulysses in 2018 — we knew we had to revisit this production for him.”
Mozart’s outrageous comedy tells the tale of an incorrigible young playboy who blazes a path to his own destruction in a single day. Based on the story of Don Juan, Don Giovanni follows a skirt-chasing youth who is loved by women almost as universally as he loves them. His luck begins to turn at the start of the story, and the audiences soon see that even he cannot escape the consequences of his actions. Featuring an astonishingly inventive score, bloody duels, and mistaken identities, Don Giovanni stands as one of Mozart’s greatest comic masterpieces.
The season continues with Handel’s first operatic masterpiece, The Resurrection, which opens in the superb acoustics of Koerner Hall just in time for the Easter season. Opera Atelier first staged this work for the Handel Festival in Halle, Germany, in 1995; the 2020 remount will fulfill the company’s dream to create a fully staged production in Toronto. The all-Canadian cast features Huhtanen as Gabriel, Lindsay as Mary Magdalene, Isaiah Bell as Saint John, Hegedus as Satan, and Allyson McHardy as Cleophas. The production includes sets by Gauci and lighting design by Ramsay.
The action begins with the angel Gabriel appearing at the gates of hell following Christ’s death. Handel and his librettist manage to turn this classic Easter story into an operatic pot boiler, including the classic baroque messenger scene in which Mary Magdalene races onto the stage to describe in thrilling detail her encounter with the risen Christ in the garden.
Handel’s The Resurrection premiered in Rome in 1708. Due to the Lenten season, all theatres were closed but Handel brilliantly circumvented these restrictions by producing the work in the Palazzo Ruspoli. His original production was an opera in everything but name, and included a lavish setting of clouds, painted baroque backdrops, and palm trees. Given that the work was never meant to be played in a proscenium theatre, Opera Atelier has selected Koerner Hall as the closest facsimile to the grandeur of a Roman baroque ballroom.
Subscriptions for Opera Atelier’s 2019/20 season are on sale now at OperaAtelier.com or by calling: 416-703-3767 ext. 222.
Season Presenting Sponsor: BMO Financial Group
Season Underwriter: El Mocambo Productions
Opera Atelier gratefully acknowledges the ongoing support of The Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council, and the City of Toronto through the Toronto Arts Council.
Established in 1985, Opera Atelier is Canada’s premier period opera/ballet company, specializing in producing opera, ballet, and drama from the 17th and 18th centuries. While drawing upon the aesthetics and ideals of the period, Opera Atelier goes beyond “reconstruction” and infuses each production with an inventive theatricality that resonates with modern audiences. These productions feature soloists of international acclaim, period ballet, original instruments, elaborate stage decor, intricate costumes, and an imaginative energy that sets Opera Atelier apart. Founding Artistic Directors Marshall Pynkoski and Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg were both recently awarded the Order of Canada for their contributions to opera and ballet.
Opera Atelier has been acclaimed throughout Canada, and tours on a regular basis to the Royal Opera House in Versailles. The company has also performed at the Glimmerglass Festival in New York, Salzburg Festival, the Rossini Opera Festival in Pesaro, and La Scala in Milan. Opera Atelier has collaborated with some of early music’s most distinguished artists including Andrew Parrott, Trevor Pinnock, Hervé Niquet, Marc Minkowski and many others.
Through historically informed performance practice, Opera Atelier allows audiences to experience the continuum of musical form; hearing and seeing great works in the ways these works might have first resonated. In inspired programming, Opera Atelier creates art that speaks to the here and now; finding fresh relevance for society in evergreen creations. Through impassioned outreach and audience development, Opera Atelier aims to secure a future by ensuring opera has a place in the hearts and lives of the upcoming generation.
LISTING INFORMATION
Opera Atelier’s 2019/20 Season
Programs:
Don Giovanni and The Resurrection
Dates:
October 31–November 9, 2019 and April 11–19, 2020
Venue:
Ed Mirvish Theatre
244 Victoria Street
Toronto, ON M5B 1V8 – and –
Koerner Hall
TELUS Centre for Performance and Learning
The Royal Conservatory
273 Bloor Street W
Toronto, ON M5S 1V6
Ticket Prices:
Subscriptions from $99. Individual tickets from $39 (some fees may apply).
Tonight I saw and heard the world premiere of Hook Up, a partnership of Tapestry Opera with Theatre Passe Muraille.
It’s a very accomplished musical, a story about relationships, sex and self-discovery. For the occasion of the premiere maybe we weren’t the right audience for the piece, an older average age than the younger crowd to whom this piece might seem to be directed. At times there were a few people laughing uproariously while others were quiet: but perhaps that’s because humour & language are sometimes coded in ways that can leave the outsider puzzled, not always picking up allusions.
I expected a louder ovation (and was surprised that there was no bow at the end by Julie Tepperman—librettist or Chris Thornborrow—composer nor by director-dramaturg Richard Greenblatt; you can read an interview about their work here) But then again, perhaps the darkness of the ending (with a glimmer of hope on the horizon) conditioned our sombre response.
Thornborrow does an admirable job scoring for piano & percussion, staying out of Tepperman’s way so that the words he asks the young cast to sing are phenomenally clear. The complexities of the story develop gradually, at times grabbing the audience more completely than anything I’ve seen in a long time. It’s powerful.
Librettist Julie Tepperman
This is a through-composed musical that rarely has something one would call a song in the usual sense, even though the style is very self-consistent in the segments, often sounding like popular music, and never remotely like something you’d find on Broadway. It feels very new & original. Some of them are haunting: for instance there’s one sequence of question & answer where the accompaniment had a beautiful repeated pattern of notes against which the perplexing questions floated like thought balloons. At times the music was a perfect match. There were a couple of places later in the show when things become more reflective, and we’re given space to feel and to observe. That’s a very welcome choice.
Overall, though, I think it’s a trial for something to come, a very understated style that hasn’t yet found its ideal material. There were moments when I thought Thornborrow was going to step forward and take over. The ending? But no that wasn’t to be, as the music backed off completely. Or in the party, a sequence of about ten seconds when things were building up wonderfully…? After all Bernstein gives us that erotic dance music in West Side Story for example. But no, Thornborrow behaves like a film music composer, wonderfully self-effacing, allowing the details of the conversation to be heard distinctly. I wanted him to step forward, to make his mark, but again, given the sexual politics of this story, perhaps what I ask is problematic.
Even so there’s much to admire in the work, that ranges across multiple styles. For such a detailed complex show, with so much going on played on multiple levels around the theatre space, and with music that doesn’t sound easy, this was a very polished performance. Emily Lukasik, Jeff Lillico, Alexis Gordon, Nathan Carroll & Alicia Ault were proper champions for Thornborrow & Tepperman. Director Richard Greenblatt created something at times very physical, yet often leaving space for reflection and quiet. That’s a necessary balance in music-theatre, that Greenblatt honoured very sensitively, helped by Kelly Wolf’s intriguing set design. Jennifer Tung at the piano kept the performance together, aided by percussionist Greg Harrison.
I think the ending of Hook Up is itself a subject worthy of discussion, but I hate to be a spoiler so I’ll have to be oblique in what I say. I think the last ten minutes are fascinating theatre, ending in thematic discussion that’s a bit Shavian, drifting away from the realm of art into something didactic & political. And so be it, as I believe that’s what the creators wanted, what they aimed at all night.
Composer Chris Thornborrow
Dare I say it, this might have been an occasion when Tepperman might have turned the material over to Thornborrow, to let the unspeakable be expressed in music. If in the old days we understood music to be necessary to go where words cannot go, to me that’s what the ending required, rather than debate: although in a piece so invested with questions of consent & control, and male vs female, my suggestion might be troubling. In my defense I submit that Thornborrow’s contribution at that moment is arguably a feminine rather than a male principle (recalling Caryl Flinn’s book Strains of Utopia about film music & Freud).
But perhaps I should see it again before presuming to say this definitively. New works challenge our ability to understand them. See Hook Up for yourself, and please let me know what you think.
Hook Up continues at Theatre Passe Muraille until Feb 9th .
There’s a moment in Richard Strauss’s adaptation of Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s libretto for Elektra that tells you everything you need to know. This is the same family constellation we know from the aftermath of the Trojan War. Agamemmnon is dead, Elektra mourns him in defiance of her mother Klytemnestra: who lives alongside Aegisthus with whom she murdered Agamemnon.
But at the telling moment the chorus have been singing “Orest” in the distance, ever more insistently & clearly. And when Elektra says “Hörst du nicht, so hörst du denn nicht?” (or “Don’t you hear? Don’t you hear it?”) She answers her own question saying “Ob ich nicht höre? ob ich die/Musik nicht höre? sie kommt doch aus mir.” Or in other words “How should I not hear? How should I Not hear the music? It comes from me.”
The Canadian Opera Company opened their revival of Elektra tonight at the Four Seasons Centre, and NO this is not exactly Sophocles. The music comes from her, as surely as the sounds of the huge COC Orchestra led by Johannes Debus comes from the orchestra pit. This is expressionism, which means that we are watching something hyper-symbolic, Wagner on steroids. The larger than life emotions of this mad family horror story are immediately registered by the 100+ players, via Strauss’s edgy score. Debus and that orchestra paint the pictures of the wild visceral responses of a bunch of crazy people in luscious colour.
It’s scary beautiful.
I am glad I read James Robinson’s director note, as it helps me understand my feelings tonight after the show. The opera is a tour de force, an endurance test for the soprano undertaking the lead role, Christine Goerke, who has been arguably the biggest star for the COC in three previous winters as she undertook each of the Brunnhildes successively in January 2015, ’16 and ’17, in three of the finest productions ever seen from the COC. She’ll be going on to sing Brunnhilde at the Metropolitan Opera this spring.
I wish this had been as magical for me as her previous three portrayals. I had watched Birgit Nilsson on DVD a few nights ago, and have to say that whereas Nilsson was frequently imprecise, when Goerke sings “Allein” to begin her marathon, it’s chilling, very moving. When she utters her father’s name, in a motif we hear regularly throughout the evening, I was gradually brought to tears watching her sing the opening lament for her dead father. And yet there’s a problem. I’ve been seeing her Facebook jokes. I adore this woman. But the thing is, she’s not larger than life in this show, she’s become my friend in the superficial Facebook sense to me and thousands of other people. So I was watching her, worried that she’d get her high notes (which she mostly did), worried about her big dance at the end (which she executed well). Social media is problematic, because it takes away the mystique.
I can’t help wondering, too, if her weight-loss has hurt her vocal production. She looks amazing. But I am reminded of Deborah Voigt, another Brunnhilde, another singer who lost weight and in the process perhaps has lost some of the vocal heft.
The main thing though is what I saw in Robinson’s directorial note. He explained that this time around –a revival from a season when the COC also did the Egoyan Salome—they were less interested in edginess and angularity and more interested in exploring the family relationships. All well and good. But as a result, we have a very sympathetic Klytemnestra sung & acted with great subtlety by Susan Bullock, a likeable Aegisthus masterfully played to comic effect by Michael Schade (what a voice!), when –pardon my savage language—I want the opera to make me crave their deaths. I need to hate them. Forgive me that I sound like an old-fashioned fool but the way the opera is written, we should be seething with outrage watching what’s being done to Elektra. We should be angry, upset, and when the tide turns and Orest arrives to reverse Elektra’s fortunes, he must be an avenger, a welcome agent of justice. But because the costumes deconstruct the usual relationships –Elektra usually looks very gross and dirty, whereas Goerke looked quite nice—much of that was missing for me. I need to hate Klytemnestra, I need to ache for Elektra so that when Orest is reported dead, I want to cry with the sisters. And when the murders happen, they should seem just. Actually, I sat listening to the lovely orchestra, where all the real feeling resides in this production, but not caring terribly much about what’s going on in the staging.
Now of course, this was also my problem with Egoyan’s Salome, that a story of crazy obsessive people was upended. Please note, I adore Egoyan’s Cosi fan tutte, that opens in a few days, a very different sort of production from his Salome. But I mention this because I didn’t have the usual catharsis. I sat watching Goerke sing and dance, loving Debus and the orchestral magic.
Erin Wall as Chrysothemis (foreground) and Christine Goerke as Elektra in the Canadian Opera Company’s production of Elektra, 2019 (photo: Michael Cooper)
There was one character who is not hurt by the deconstruction, for whatever reason. I adored Erin Wall’s take on Chrysothemis, a performance of wonderful depth and authenticity. I am perhaps prejudiced because Chrysothemis has so much of the pretty music in an opera that is mostly crazy, the one sane person in the room. She wants a family while her sister craves murder and her brother then enacts it: although again I rolled my eyes that the director chose to dramatize this by asking her to hug dolls… some of us actually understand the implications in the text without a dumb-show thanks very much! Wall was heart-breaking nonetheless, especially as she sings the last notes of the opera, crying to her brother.
Deconstruction is a funny thing. Relationships change. So some of the subsidiary roles stood out, precisely because things had been juggled and re-framed. Lauren Eberwein was wonderful –again in one of the few moments when Hofmannsthal shows us a sane person—as the fifth maid, when Strauss stops the torrent of dissonance for a few welcome moments of glorious melody. Klytemnestra’s sidekicks, played by Simone McIntosh & Lauren Margison, were deliciously odd, emerging from the background.
That aforementioned choral moment was especially magical, as the COC chorus sang their intimations of justice being done from behind us. It was a highlight.
This is great theatre, a tight evening’s entertainment. Imagine Dysfuntional Family Feud, the Cage Match edition. The comedy that’s implicit in Hofmannsthal’s libretto emerges in this reading. The scene where Elektra toys with her mother (about the necessary sacrifice to end her bad dreams) is delicious and hysterically funny. Goerke has a real gift for this, for irony & comedy.
Elektra continues at the Four Seasons Centre until Feb 22nd.
North American Premiere of From Treblinka to Auschwitz
Vasily Grossman and Primo Levi: a dialogue between witnesses
A theatrical reading with live music for Holocaust Remembrance Day
With Michael Miranda and Martin Julien, actors
Robbie Grunwald, piano | Drew Jurecka, violin, clarinet
January 29, 2019, 6:30 PM at Alliance Française
Free admission | Registration required
“Why remember? It is the writer’s duty to tell the terrible truth, and it is a reader’s civic duty to learn this truth. Those who would turn their backs or close their eyes or pass over this truth offend the memory of the fallen.”
—Vasily Grossman, 1944.
The Istituto Italiano di Cultura Toronto presents the North American premiere of From Treblinka to Auschwitz: a dialogue between witnesses on January 29 at 6:30 PM in honour of Holocaust Remembrance Day. This theatrical reading of excerpts from Auschwitz Testimonies by Primo Levi and Leonardo De Benedetti and The Hell of Treblinka by Russian writer and journalist Vasily Grossman, takes place at the Alliance Française, 24 Spadina Road, and admission is free with registration.Actors Michael Miranda and Martin Julien interpret text by Levi and Grossman respectively, while klezmer music performed by Robbie Grunwald, piano, and Drew Jurecka, violin and clarinet, underscores the readings. Read more about the artists.
The presentation of these first-hand accounts of the of the worst mass murder in history takes on even greater poignancy against the backdrop of a recent study that found that nearly half of the Canadians surveyed lack basic knowledge about the Holocaust.
The texts for From Treblinka to Auschwitz were written by two Jewish authors born 14 years apart who lived under politically oppressive regimes: Vasily Grossman in Stalin’s Soviet Union, and Primo Levy in Fascist Italy under Mussolini. Though they never met or read each other’s work, they share the distinction of having written pivotal eye-witness accounts of the Holocaust. The works of Levi and Grossman describe, in granular detail, the very texture of life and death in the concentration camps and are considered essential and seminal writings on this topic.
The Hell of Treblinka was written in the autumn of 1944 by Vasily Grossman, a war correspondent with the Red Army. The very first article published about a death camp, it was subsequently submitted at the Nuremberg Trials as evidence for the prosecution. The Hell of Treblinka “remains on the finest [accounts], providing firsthand forensic documentation—Grossman meticulously lays out the physical dimensions of the camp, down to the square footage—and then icily explaining the engineering of genocide.” (The New Yorker)
Primo Levi was a 23-year old chemist who was arrested and transferred to Auschwitz in February 1944, where he remained until the camp was liberated on 27 January 1945. He wrote to ensure that the world would never forget the “insane dream of building a thousand-year empire upon millions of corpses and slaves.” Levi, whose centenary is being celebrated worldwide in 2019, is recognized as one of the most important literary figures of the 20th-century.
Texts to be presented on January 29 include excerpts from The Auschwitz Report by Levi and surgeon Leonardo De Benedetti. Written in 1945 upon request from the Red Army, it was the first scientific account to analyze the structure of a concentration camp. With rigorous and unflinching detail, The Auschwitz Report uncovers the pseudo-scientific deception that was integral to the extermination procedures.
From Treblinka to Auschwitz is a joint project by the Turin-based International Primo Levi Studies Center and Study Center Vasilij Grossman, with texts selected by authors and literary critics Domenico Scarpa and Marco Sisto. The event premiered in January 2017 at Teatro Carignano and is presented for the first time in North America in collaboration with the Istituto Italiano di Cultura Toronto.
Listing Information:
The Istituto Italiano di Cultura presents From Treblinka to Auschwitz
Vasily Grossman and Primo Levi: a dialogue between witnesses
A theatrical reading with live music for Holocaust Remembrance Day
with Michael Miranda and Martin Julien, actors | Robbie Grunwald, piano |
Drew Jurecka, violin, clarinet
ABOUT THE ISTITUTO ITALIANO DI CULTURA
Established in 1976, the Istituto Italiano di Cultura is the Cultural Section of the Consulate General of Italy in Toronto. The Istituto is a centre for cultural and academic activities, a school of Italian language and civilization, a source of information about contemporary Italy, its regions and its multilayered cultural heritage as well as a venue for art exhibitions, lectures, films, and video screenings. The Istituto also provides opportunities for cultural collaboration between Italian and Canadian organizations and individuals, to facilitate exchange in the field of theatre, music and cinema. It offers information and logistical support to both Italian and foreign public and private operators interested in Italian cultural events in Canada. The Institute supports initiatives which favour intercultural and multilateral dialogue based on the principles of democracy, reciprocal respect and international solidarity and it is often involved in events organized by other cultural offices of EU countries.
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“Press releases and announcements” are presented verbatim without comment
In a week juxtaposing new (21C festival) and old (the Toronto Symphony playing Mozart with Pinchas Zukerman), I came finally to see The Harlequin Salon by Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra, including a great deal of theatricality to complement their music. While I seemed to be moving back in time with the progression of the week, the show tonight might be the newest and freshest of all.
Conceived and performed by Marco Cera in the main role, The Harlequin Salon is that rare creature, a multi-media presentation where all the media are essential and perfectly linked together.
We were watching
Harlequin as portrayed by actor Dino Gonçalves,
his master Pier Leone Ghezzi, a caricaturist and amateur musician as portrayed by oboist Marco Cera who sketches guests in his home (the salon); we see the sketches take shape through miracle of digital images, projected above the stage thanks to Patrick Lavender & Ramon Cespedes. The guests we meet?
Vivaldi as portrayed by Tafelmusik violinist Elisa Citterio
the great singer Faustina Bordoni, portrayed by guest artist soprano Roberta Invernizzi
composer & cello virtuoso Giovanni Bononcini as portrayed by Tafelmusik cellist Felix Deak
Bordoni –playing a trick on the amorous Harlequin—disguises herself as the famous castrato Farinelli, again portrayed by Invernizzi
the staging is directed by Guillaume Bernardi, while the music-making directed by Tafelmusik artistic director Elisa Citterio
Here’s some idea of the flamboyance of the Harlequin Salon from Tafelmusik. We watch Marco Cera as Ghezzi sketching his guests including Roberta Invernizzi, while sitting at the table. The sketches appear on the screen above. Dino Goncalves is Harlequin (right). Photo: Jeff Higgins.
It was never dull, and at times, exquisite, simultaneously a complex piece of theatre & musical performance plus video art. At times there was so much going on –caricatures taking shape, acting & comedy, all in context with some magnificent music-making—that one didn’t always know where to focus one’s attention. The last part of the concert, as Invernizzi sang a Pergolesi aria accompanied by Cera’s stunning oboe obbligato is one of the most beautiful things I’ve heard in a long time. Not only have I discovered new music, but a new singer as well (both worthy of further exploration).
It’s a bit of a trip down memory lane, vivid reminders of what I learned about Commedia dell’Arte in graduate school. Near the beginning Gonçalves gave us the classic lazzo of the fly. A lazzo is a comic routine, and this one is such a chestnut that it’s been around for hundreds of years. Even so Gonçalves got laughs as he mimed chasing the fly, and eventually eating it.
Harlequin is always hungry.
Okay, some of the lazzi (the plural of lazzo) are old, such as the one with the mimed fly, or another one opening & re-sealing the master’s mail. But they did an original lazzo with a music-stand, a clever use of the available prop for a quick laugh.
Speaking of memories & grad school, their Commedia dell’Arte consultant was Domenico Pietropaolo who taught the CdA course I took during my MA, and who is now Principal of St Michael’s College at the University of Toronto.
I repeat what I hinted at earlier. While it appears superficially that I was going back in time as the week progressed (21C being 21st century music, Mozart composing in the latter part of the 18th century, and this program coming from the first half of that same century): yet this was actually the newest, the most theatrical, most daring programming of all.
We seem to be in the home of a man, watching a few musicians (only 9 of Tafelmusik’s players, and some in costumes for roles), while the sketches being created apparently in the present by Ghezzi were drawn anew on the big screen above. It was wonderfully intimate, very informal & playful, and at the same time, full of wonderful music. Tafelmusik continually challenge themselves with their inventive programs like this one.
You can visit The Harlequin Salon Saturday January 19th at 8pm or Sunday January 20th at 3:30pm Jeanne Lamon Hall, Trinity-St. Paul’s Centre.
How do people meet, and what’s involved in making connections? I keep asking this question about the arts because in case you haven’t noticed, you can’t do it alone. Yes there are people like Beethoven who work in solitude, people like Richard Wagner who write the music and the words. But Beethoven was deaf, Wagner was a political exile, so there were reasons why they didn’t work with others. And even then yes they did work with others. Theatre is collaborative.
So the undercurrent to my questions to Julie Tepperman & Chris Thornborrow –creators of Hook Up, a new musical theatre piece about relationships in the modern era that’s opening January 30th (previewing Jan 29th)– is to ask about connections and collaborative relationships.
I probably should know both of these people better by now.
I missed Julie Tepperman’s Bandits in the Valley in the summer of 2017, done with Tapestry Opera (an important connection too). She’s playwright in residence with Theatre Passe Muraille, who are teaming up with Tapestry on Hook Up.
Librettist Julie Tepperman
And she came up in my interview with Sara Schabas roughly a year ago, when Sara said this:
Aaron Willis, our director, was introduced to me through his wife, Julie Tepperman – librettist for Bandits in the Valley. Aaron and Julie are the co-artistic directors of Convergence Theatre, and Aaron has directed for numerous esteemed companies around Toronto including Soulpepper and Theatre Passe Muraille. He’s also involved in the Toronto Jewish community, and he and Julie wrote and starred in a comedy called Yichudabout an Orthodox Jewish couple a few years ago, which received wide-ranging praise.
Hm… more connections…people working together on projects they care about deeply.
Composer Chris Thornborrow
I don’t feel that I know Chris Thornborrow well either. I recall getting very excited at a Toy Piano Composers concert, the record launch that included a piece by Chris back in the summer of 2017. I’d previously encountered his work through the Bicycle Opera Project’s 2014 tour, a short work about relationships called A Little Rain Must Fall, and one that I’d seen previously at (you guessed it) another Tapestry LibLab.
And so now in anticipation of the encounter between Julie & Chris in Hook Up that opens January 30th at Theatre Passe Muraille, I had to ask them to talk about their work & coming together on the project.
BB: What is the best or worst thing about what you do?
CHRIS: My favourite thing about my work is collaborating. It is so fulfilling to collaborate with other artists to bring a work to life — particularly in film, opera, and theatre. I love working on projects artists of different disciplines whose work comes together to be greater than the sum of its parts.
JULIE: I agree! So much of my work as a playwright happens in isolation until the draft is in a place to start inviting a director, actors, and designers into the process. But in order to create an opera, the composer and librettist are in it together from day one…which is thrilling.
BB:Who do you like to listen to or watch?
CHRIS: I have pretty eclectic tastes in music. I listen to quite a bit of contemporary classical music, generally leaning towards minimalist and post-minimalist aesthetics (John Adams, John Luther Adams, Nico Muhly, Caroline Shaw). I also listen to a broad range of folk music, indie pop, some electronic stuff. I have a soft spot for Sibelius, which coincidentally is also my notation software of choice.
JULIE: I rely on people way cooler than me (Chris!) to introduce me to new music. In terms of theatre, I love shows that immerse me in a world. In the case of Hook Up, our director and design team is making really cool use of screens, projections, social media, and the entire mainspace of Theatre Passe Muraille, so that scenes pop up in unexpected places.
BB: What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
CHRIS: Time travel.
JULIE: I can kinduv sing, but I wish I could really sing…like the cast of Hook Up! And tap dance.
BB: When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?
CHRIS: I love exploring the city (via bicycle), and when possible, traveling. I am also a pretty avid reader, movie watcher, and video game player. Although I love it, my enthusiasm for basketball far outweighs my skill in actually playing the sport.
JULIE: A year ago I would’ve said, “I’m never NOT working on something!”…but now I have a 15-month-old daughter who is pretty fun to hang out with…she’s the perfect antidote for a workaholic like me.
BB: How did you meet & come to collaborate on Hook Up?
CHRIS & JULIE: We met in August 2013 where we were one of four playwrights and four composers across Canada selected to participate in Tapestry Opera’s 10-day “LibLab” program. LibLab is designed like “speed-dating” — pairs of librettists and composers are matched for two-and-a-half-days of creation, with the task of creating 5-minute operas. When it was our turn, we instantly hit it off.
Chris had recently composed a children’s opera about two girls facing off against zombie pirates, was interested in continuing to explore women’s stories and also issues important to youth – a demographic Julie felt is often ignored in the operatic and classical music world. Meanwhile, Julie had spent the last three years building a theatrical piece that explores rape culture, and working with middle and high school students on various acting and playwriting projects as a guest artist in their classrooms, where this topic always seemed to come up. We were both intrigued by the others’ passion for working with youth
And so, a 7-minute piece they called “Cindy + Mindy = BFs 4EVR” was created and selected to be performed as part of Tapestry’s “Opera Briefs” in September 2013. It focused on a live Facebook chat that 17-year-old best friends Cindy and Mindy were having in their separate bedrooms, “slut-shaming” a girl at school they’d named “Ho-bag Heather”. At the time, we were motivated by the then-recent suicides of Canadian teenagers Rehtaeh Parsons (April 2013) and Amanda Todd (October 2012) after both of them endured endless in-person and online sexual harassment and bullying. This was the springboard for what would become Selfie, a roughly 75-minute piece that was written and composed over two-and-a-half years which explored teen cyberbullying.
After a rigorous process of development and workshops, including some sharing with invited audiences (which included teachers and teenagers), we got very stuck, and ultimately decided not to continue developing Selfie. In the fall of 2016, director and dramaturge Richard Greenblatt was brought onboard to help us refocus and reinvigorate.
Richard Greenblatt, Director & Dramaturge
We eventually landed on a theme that we had kept passionately returning to in conversations and in the sharing of research, even while working on Selfie – rape culture and consent, at large, but more specifically on university campuses. And so, facilitated by Richard over a period of several months, we created a new outline for a new story that involved three 17-year-olds navigating their first semester at a (fictional) Canadian university.
BB: Tell us a bit more about Hook Up as a piece of music-theatre.
CHRIS: Hook Up straddles the world of opera and musical theatre. Structurally, it is through-composed. Thematic material is used to augment the emotional and psychological states of the characters and the plot. There are no traditional musical theatre numbers (e.g. verse chorus structure). Aesthetically, the piece leans towards musical theatre. The singers, for example, will be miked. The story moves forward faster than most traditional opera. There, orchestration includes sounds and musical aesthetics you might hear on a university campus or college party today.
JULIE: With regard to the story, it focuses on young people navigating their first semester at university and being thrust into adulthood.
Chris and I have a shared desire to tell a story that puts complicated and complex young women at its centre, and pushes the boundaries of traditional operatic forms in an effort to tell a story of our time. The setting of our opera may be a college campus, but we believe that rape culture and consent are incredibly pervasive issues throughout society, as evidenced by the groundswell of the #MeToo Movement, and the rigorous conversations taking place around the globe thanks to the strength of women like Christine Blasey Ford. Sexual assault remains a brutal reality of modern campus life; we hope that our opera is the beginning of yet another vital conversation that we need to be having in our homes, schools, communities, and in society at large.
BB: The genre question becomes more and more tricky with every passing decade, as the difference between “opera” and “the musical” narrows or overlaps. Please talk about how you understand Hook Up, in terms of its origins, its development (when it may have changed in your hands), your objectives and the possible expectations of audiences.
CHRIS: It’s interesting that this question about the difference between opera and the musical as genres keeps coming up, even as those aesthetics have become increasingly interwoven (not to mention the cross pollination that is ubiquitous in virtually all musical genres, which doesn’t seem to get the same kind of scrutiny. Jeremy Dutcher, whose Polaris Prize winning album Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa combines opera, pop, and Wolastoq folk-song. Does it ever enter into the discussion that this kind of musical blending and exploration of “genres” as tricky?) It wasn’t helpful for me to think in terms of, “Is this a musical or is this an opera?” It was more useful for me to think of the work as a piece of theatre. In developing what Hook Up sounds like, I asked what would be the most authentic, compelling way to tell this particular story through music. Furthermore, this project is of special interest to me as an artist because I am eager to fill a void in opera: I want to create an opera that connects to a young adult audience by addressing contemporary issues that are important to them, while at the same time refuting traditional operatic narrative tropes. All too often, the harm done to women who are subjugated by men in the stories of historical operas is portrayed uncritically. This is problematic. Creating a story that places the experience of women at the centre of the narrative is my way of addressing this issue.
JULIE: This is a high-stakes issue and opera lends itself to high-stakes scenarios, and big emotions. It is certainly experimental, and lives in a unique place compositionally; hard core opera aficionados will likely accuse us of creating musical theatre, but because there are no traditional musical numbers, musical theatre fans will likely relate to it as contemporary opera! Chris’ music is certainly pushing the boundaries of traditional operatic forms, and in doing so he’s created a musical world that is accessible, authentic, surprising, and fully supports and reflects the emotional stakes and states of being of the characters and situations. Opera also requires the librettist to be economical with language; if this were a play, it would be written very differently. Rather, it’s been written with the intention of it being sung, and so intentionally leaves room for the music to enhance the emotional journeys. This kind of brevity is also very true of on-line communication – 140 characters! – and in that sense opera lends itself perfectly to the style and form of this piece. Ultimately, music has the power to deeply connect both artist and audience with their emotions in a visceral way, and in doing so music can elevate the piece, and enrich the audiences’ overall experience.
BB: The Canadian Opera Company Atom Egoyan production of Mozart’s cosi fan tutte explores the idea of a “school for lovers”; does Hook Up function as a modern version, even if it’s a cautionary tale?
CHRIS: I’m not sure how to answer this question, because we didn’t really set out to position ourselves in the context of traditional operas. We were definitely interested in telling a compelling story about what young people experience on college and university campuses today. We want to create an opera that connects to a young adult audience by addressing contemporary issues that are important to them, while at the same time veering away from some traditional operatic narrative tropes.
BB: In bringing Hook Up to life, especially as far as the relationship between the two of you, please talk for a moment about the role of your dramaturg (mediator or midwife?). [please be as elaborate or as brief as you wish.]
CHRIS & JULIE: Our dramaturge, Richard facilitated what we as the writer/composer team wanted to say. This includes clarifying, asking questions, and helping us dig deeper into our material. We have a tremendous respect for each other, and so mediation was never really a part of it.
BB: Are there any influences you would care to mention, that might be relevant to someone coming to Hook Up that might be useful for them to recognize what they’ll be seeing & hearing?
CHRIS & JULIE: We’re going to be annoying and avoid this question in terms of musical influences, but we will say that a tremendous amount of research went into the writing of this piece. News articles, journals, books of non-fiction and fiction have been poured over, and of course talking with young people. The result: Hook Up is an unflinching examination of issues around consent, shame, and power, specifically on North American university and college campuses. We imagine it as a catalyst for discussion about difficult topics. We have included a content warning that the show contains explicit language, discussion of sexual violence, and sexual consent. In light of some of the difficult subject matter, we have planned several post-show talks facilitated by CANVAS Arts Action Programs, an organization that uses arts-inspired programs to educate on gender equity, consent, and LGBQT2S+ inclusion. Further written support material is available by request at the theatre’s box office.
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Hook Up, a Tapestry Opera Production in partnership with Theatre Passe Muraille opens January 30th, previewing Jan 29th at 16 Ryerson, running until February 9th. For tickets & further information click here.
While tonight’s Toronto Symphony all-Mozart concert, conducted by violinist Pinchas Zukerman was 180 degrees in the opposite direction from what they were up to yesterday at Koerner Hall, launching the 21C Festival of new music, there were some interesting points of contact.
I had mused about the notion of the virtuoso & the functions of virtuosity last night, contemplating the brilliant work of Stewart Goodyear as composer & piano soloist. Sometimes a new piece tests what’s possible on an instrument, what a player can do. That can be a very serious endeavor.
I was thinking last night that maybe at times it’s too serious. The difference between high art and something commercial? If you come up with something brilliant that might become an ear worm, and you repeat it insistently? That’s what a popular composer does, what a Richard Strauss, a Giacomo Puccini, a Camille Saint-Saens, a Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky or a Sergei Rachmaninoff might do. Perhaps more serious composers think of that as “selling out”..?
But the ear wants what it wants.
I couldn’t help noticing the joy in Zukerman’s playing tonight, music from 1775, and it was infectious.
Pinchas Zukerman plays Mozart (photo: Jag Gundu)
Who could blame him? I’m thinking particularly of the second half of the program, when he seemed to push himself to a higher level, inspired by what he was playing. There was no mistaking the enjoyment in his reading of the Violin Concerto #3, one where all three movements have memorable melodies, remarkable drama between the soloist & orchestra.
I didn’t want that third movement to end, it was so magnificently played. Zukerman was playing with us in more ways than one. In the back and forth dialogue between his solo lines and the accompanying ensemble he played up the comedy. For instance he might play the line straight (as written) the first time, then add a portamento (slide) the second time, and a touch of real schmaltz the next time, thoroughly enjoying the chemistry with the orchestra and an audience who were eating it up, not knowing what exactly to expect but enjoying the game.
Virtuosity is not just chops, the skill in one’s fingers & hands & arms. Zukerman took the stage with all the charisma of a vaudevillian playing his favourite routine for his fans. The swagger was contagious. Now please understand, this is a different kind of music and a different century from last night’s music. What was intriguing to notice was that Zukerman –a mature artist, in total contrast to the athletic young pianist from last night—really knows himself so well, so relaxed up there it was quite astonishing. During the first of two concertos he played (#5 was first, #3 second), he actually came out onto the stage with his violin, walking through the applause into the space amidst the strings to begin the first movement orchestral introduction, making the downbeat while still walking, the applause not quite dead in the hall. Was he seeking to surprise or startle the orchestra? I think so. That concerto before the interval was not as inspired as the one after intermission.
Did Mozart write with any other players in mind, or just himself? I can’t help wondering. But oh my that concerto –#3 I mean—is so enjoyable for everyone. If you were ever to ask “why compose music” there can be at least a couple of answers:
You’re trying to make money as a composer ( not a good answer in my opinion)
It’s what you do for a living (again, not a good answer)
You love the sounds you’re creating and want to hear them (that’s more like it)
It’s fun and you want to hear people play what you write (surely that’s the dream…)
You want to give singers & musicians & dancers something to sing / play / dance
When a child hears music like this concerto, one can imagine them deciding they want to learn the violin, to play this someday. I know that there are pieces that when you hear them, you want to play them because they are beautiful, you want to hear them again because you can’t get the melody out of your head. That’s what I came for tonight and (wow) that’s exactly what I got. Lucky me.
They warmed up to it, as parts of the first half of the concert were not quite as superb, perhaps a little too mellow for my taste. Maybe I am spoiled by the historically informed super fast approach of Tafelmusik and ensembles like them. That these were a little slower, more in the tradition of the Mozart I grew up with as a child, such as Karl Bohm’s Mozart (I had his Magic Flute and his symphonies #40 & 41) doesn’t mean they couldn’t be great fun. But they were romantic readings, the sound big and muscular, a pompous sort of fun. This Mozart makes you love the symphony.
Zukerman and the TSO are back Friday & Saturday with the same program at Roy Thomson Hall.
Tonight the Toronto Symphony joined forces with members of the Glen Gould School to launch the 21C Festival at Koerner Hall.
We heard six works including two world premieres to conclude:
Terry Riley: “Half-Wolf Dances Mad in Moonlight” (string orchestra)
Dorothy Chang: “Northern Star” from True North: Symphonic Ballet
Dinuk Wijeratne: “First Winter” from True North: Symphonic Ballet
-intermission-
Jocelyn Morlock: Nostalgia (string orchestra, I think..?)
Emilie LeBel: They do not shimmer like the dry grasses on the hills, or the leaves on the trees (world premiere)
Stewart Goodyear: “Ur-” (world premiere)
There were reasons to be enthusiastic at every moment of the program. I enjoyed everything although there was a great deal of variety.
I cannot deny that the main reason I attended was to hear the final piece on the program, not just composed by, but also played by Stewart Goodyear, a pianist I think of as one of the pre-eminent players in the world. He burst on the local scene with his awe-inspiring Beethoven Marathon. I am thinking too of Neil Crory who passed away earlier this week, who helped launch Stewart, as the producer of the phenomenal set of Beethoven sonatas.
Here’s an example.
So now that Stewart has shown us his ability with Beethoven (and writing some brilliant liner notes as well), with Rachmaninoff and his original piano transcription of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, perhaps he needed to show us something else. He is also a composer, with several commissions already to his credit.
Pianist & composer Stewart Goodyear
Goodyear’s new piano concerto might be a bit of a reminder. The word “virtuoso” has lost much of its lustre, as the world doesn’t always remember that virtuosity in a player could be linked to great compositional ideas, from Liszt to Stravinsky to Messaien & Ligeti. One of the great questions has always been to ask: what are the expressive possibilities of an instrument? What are the limits? Watching –yes watching because one wants to see how he does it—the hands move over his Steinway, I wonder how difficult this concerto might be. We begin with some clusters up and down the keyboard, as I wondered about the tonality of what we were to hear. There was a lot of hand over hand movement with fast repeated notes, such as one sees in the closing section of Rhapsody in Blue (not the same sort of music, but a similar effect). At times I was reminded of 20th century piano music, for instance Khatchaturian or Stravinsky. The energy of the piece and the pianist raised the roof. No wonder I want to hear it again. I believe it deserves to be programmed.
There’s another thought I meant to include –but couldn’t articulate last night when I wrote this– that I am adding in a Thursday morning addendum (this paragraph). There’s a section about a minute or so from the end of the piece, full of energy but especially interesting as Goodyear creates a kind of pattern that might almost be called an ear-worm, but deliciously elusive, a back – and- forth that reminds me of the best moments of certain pieces, where there’s something you want to hear again, to hear it in more detail. Every now and then one hears something like this. And that especially –to repeat what I said in the previous paragraph– makes me want to hear it again.
Goodyear’s work was a total contrast to the piece immediately before it, from Emilie LeBel. The piece felt so much like anticipation, a rhetorical framework leading onwards, restrained and beautifully coherent from beginning to end.
The second half began with a fascinating piece from Jocelyn Morlock, “Nostalgia”. I was struck by how much she put into this short piece, so energetic in its first minutes, gradually slowing and becoming reflective and even a bit passive, as the title might suggest, putting me in mind of tone poems that become introspective towards the end, such as the Siegfried Idyll. We were at times self-referential, sometimes with suggestions of something old, perhaps a neo-baroque using the rhetorical devices such as phrasing and ornament to suggest an older sort of music-making. And at the end we were in a very abstract place indeed.
Tania Miller conducted all but one of the pieces heard tonight. Simon Rivard, newly appointed as Resident Conductor at the TSO, stepped forward for the penultimate work on the program.
Conductor Tania Miller
To begin we heard Terry Riley’s ”Half-Wolf Dances Mad in Moonlight”, lovely string playing to begin the evening, from an older composer who has likely influenced everyone else on the program. Dorothy Chang’s “Northern Star” might have been a contemporary bit of impressionism – if you believe there is such a thing (there’s a controversy… I’ll write about it one of these days). We heard lucid solos emerging from extended harmonies that wouldn’t be out of place in the work of Debussy or the young Stravinsky. Dinuk Wijeratne’s “First Winter” employed ostinati (although I think everyone in this concert used some sort of ostinato, some more than others). These were tight little cells, sometimes to create a kind of sonic wash as though background. And then suddenly Wijeratne offered powerful bold statements from the full orchestra. I loved how sudden they felt, how he had sloughed off the template of the usual or the predictable, to make something crystal clear & as audacious as his subject.
Goodyear return tomorrow (Thursday) for more of his compositions, while Terry Riley will be back on Friday. Meanwhile the TSO are playing Mozart for the rest of the week at Roy Thomson Hall.
Company Unveils 34th Season Featuring Daring Juxtaposition 
barczablog 