COC’s Wozzeck, a relatable opera

This spring season of the Canadian Opera Company feels a bit like the second coming of Alexander Neef, their former General Director. Next week we’ll be seeing the revival of Robert Carsen’s Eugene Onegin, a production that Neef brought to Toronto in 2018. But this week it’s Wozzeck, a show I saw in the Metropolitan Opera’s High Definition series in 2020, announced this way:

A co-production of the Metropolitan Opera;
Salzburg Festival; the Canadian Opera Company, Toronto; and Opera Australia.

More than five years later, the co-pro has finally come to Toronto, long after Neef left Toronto and even his successor Perryn Leech left the COC.

The other fellow in the picture is even more important.

COC Music Director Johannes Debus and COC General Director Alexander Neef. (Photo: bohuang.ca)

Johannes Debus and the COC Orchestra met all the challenges of Alban Berg’s score, except perhaps one. In the scene when the Drum Major comes into the barracks, to boast about his conquest of Marie, the whistles weren’t easily audible. Except for that tiny silly detail, the orchestra and the chorus were absolutely perfect! I had to mention the whistle to underline my appreciation for what Debus and company accomplished. The lyrical last moments for each of Marie and Wozzeck were truly breath-taking, gorgeous and beautiful even if they were also eerie and grotesque.

Wozzeck is the pinnacle of 20th Century modernism, the top of a mountain first discerned by Liszt, shaped and climbed by Wagner, Strauss and Mahler. While there’s dissonance in the score, it’s not atonal, but the music is difficult.

But if you have seen this Wozzeck you’re probably ready to label me a music nerd, given that I am omitting the real key figure in this production, one of the most remarkable stagings I’ve ever seen on a COC stage, namely the director William Kentridge.

William Kentridge (photo: Norbert Miguletz)

Kentridge has a fascinating vision of the opera. We see a design that seems to relocate the story to the period of the First World War. Okay, that’s what I assumed: until I heard him explain on Youtube that what we’re seeing is “a premonition of the First World War”.

Wozzeck meets the Doctor in Act I, image from the Salzburg production

So the puppet child wears a gas mask.

Image from Salzburg production showing puppet wearing gas mask

Kentridge leads a brilliant team, presenting something different for the Toronto version of Wozzeck, including Co-Director Luc De Wit, Set Designer Sabine Theunissen, Costume Designer Greta Goiris, Original Lighting Designer Urs Schönebaum, Revival Lighting Designer Mikael Kangas, Projection Designer Catherine Meyburgh and Video Control Kim Gunning. Yes Wozzeck is played by the COC Orchestra and sung by a remarkable cast of singers, but first and foremost you will be immersed in the flamboyant images of Kentridge’s vision for Wozzeck.

Ambur Braid as Marie continues her winning streak at the COC, inevitably the most sympathetic person onstage regardless of the composer or the style she’s required to play. I never doubted her for a moment as the mother of a puppet-child, indeed she will move you to tears. I think Michael Kupfer-Radecky is a more believable Wozzeck than the Met’s star Peter Mattei, a singer whose ambition to be an artist got in the way of the credibility of his portrayal of this sad everyman in the High Def broadcast (which gives us extreme closeups).

Peter Mattei in Wozzeck at the Met. (Photo: Paola Kudacki/Met Opera)

Michael felt so much more direct, and wonderfully musical. I’m not sure whether I was crying in the scene between him & Marie in Act II where he gives her some money because of Ambur’s response or the way he sang his lines, before his exit. OMG, so gorgeous. I guess it helps Ambur to be hearing that exquisite unaffected delivery. I’m envious, they get to hear each other every show.

Michael Kupfer-Radecky as Wozzeck and Ambur Braid as Marie (photo: Michael Cooper)

The first voice we hear is Michael Schade as the Captain, berating Wozzeck in the opening scene. We’ve seen so many superb portrayals from Michael, it’s no surprise he gives us such a fascinating Captain. In Kentridge’s theatrical world it’s a caricature such as we might find in Commedia dell’Arte, a self-consistent wooden stock figure that bounces back and forth between quirky and grotesque. There are other comic stock figures who torment Wozzeck. Anthony Robin Schneider is the Doctor, whose experiments will lead to immortality and possibly kill his subject.

Anthony Robin Schneider as the Doctor and Michael Schade as The Captain (photo: Michael Cooper)

And the other tormentor is a Miles Gloriosus, the bullying Drum Major of Matthew Cairns.

Ambur Braid as Marie and Matthew Cairns as The Drum Major (photo: Michael Cooper)

Wozzeck also has a friend named Andres although the scene where we might see Andres as upbeat, in contrast to the torment Wozzeck is getting in the other scenes, is rather dark in Kentridge’s interpretation. Owen McCausland handled all its challenges including the high C in the tavern scene, effortlessly.

Owen McCausland as Andres and Michael Kupfer-Radecky as Wozzeck (photo: Michael Cooper)

In the conversation after seeing this new Wozzeck we were somewhat perplexed. Alas the theatre was not full, even though what we saw is a powerfully cinematic experience, an overwhelming combination of images and performances. My friend Alexander Cappellazzo thought it was the most completely relatable combination of story, action and music that you will find on an operatic stage.

Alexander Cappellazzo

He compared it to Taxi Driver, suggesting that maybe it shouldn’t be promoted as a conventional opera: because of course that’s not what it is. We wonder: how do we get this across to the potential audience? What should the COC do differently to promote this absolute jewel of a production? I feel sad, seeing the best opera performance today that I’ve seen in a long time in a half-empty theatre. I’m reminded of the conversations I’ve been having about popularity, a tricky concept. I believe Wozzeck could be sold out if the audience knew what they were getting. Maybe we need to see Kentridge’s edgy designs, the overpowering stage picture, rather than the usual operatic sales-job with its focus on the singers. It’s more like a movie than an opera, and it sweeps you away.

Okay a bit more nerdy stuff, then I’m done. Wozzeck is an example of a genre called “literaturoper”, a genre that isn’t terribly well-known. If the opera is an adaptation from a play or work of literature one could make the case that it’s a literaturoper. Salome and Elektra by Richard Strauss, Pelléas et Mélisande by Debussy take a play and adapt it without the intervening step of a libretto, such as you’d find with La boheme or Traviata or Carmen. Wozzeck is a fascinating case given that the original is a framentary play reassembled by Karl Emil Franzos, who has a dubious claim to fame. He’s responsible for mistaking the title of Georg Büchner’s fragmentary play Woyzeck as Wozzeck instead. I am not surprised, speaking as someone whose handwriting used to be pretty terrible in the days before I started using laptops & smartphones instead. And while I have never seen Eugene Onegin mentioned for inclusion in the list of literaturopern, maybe it also belongs there given that Tchaikovsky adapted the work from Pushkin’s poem. Or maybe the designation doesn’t mean much of anything.

I’m looking forward to seeing Onegin next week, as we come up on the renewal deadline for COC subscriptions mid-week. Yes I will renew my subscription. I’m looking forward to seeing Wozzeck again later in the run, but this time sitting up close. Kentridge’s production makes this opera fabulous to watch from any distance, exciting from any seat in the house.

Wozzeck continues with performances May 3, 8, 10, 14, 16.

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Soundstreams’ Garden of Vanished Pleasures on a dark Toronto weekend

In 2021 the COVID pandemic disrupted the plans by Soundstreams to present their original production Garden of Vanished Pleasures, a music-theatre work about Derek Jarman, the gay activist, film-maker & poet who died of AIDS related complications in 1994, devised by director Tim Albery. Soundstreams gave us a virtual version online that I reviewed here.

This weekend Soundstreams premiered a live version meant to realize Albery’s original intentions at Canadian Stage’s Marilyn & Charles Baillie Theatre. There is a final Sunday matinee remaining
(for information).

I expected more of a difference between the online work (which I loved) and its new live version, presented by four singers (Mireille Asselin, soprano, Danika Lorèn, soprano, Hillary Tufford, mezzo-soprano & Daniel Cabena, counter-tenor), three live musicians (Hyejin Kwon, music director & piano, Brenna Hardy-Kavanagh, viola, Amahl Arulanandam, cello) and a lot of CGI effects projected on the back wall of the Berkeley St Theatre. I thought I was watching exactly what I had seen in 2021, which was actually an exciting work.

To open my review back in 2021 I said “I wondered whether one needs to know Derek Jarman, as I watched Garden of Vanished Pleasures for the first time.” Today I feel even more certain that it is not necessarily an advantage to be a Derek Jarman fan, coming to something like this. I recall my frustrations encountering the poetry of Lord Byron, noting the discrepancy between the phenomenon of Byronism and his actual poems. Jarman is a similar larger than life phenomenon whose actual films & poems are largely unknown. But that doesn’t matter when you come to Albery’s music theatre piece. I call it Albery’s even though there are other creatives, including two composers and several poets, who contributed to the piece.

Composer Cecilia Livingston
Composer Donna McKevitt

Sometimes I use questions of genre to try to get a sense of what I have seen and heard but I am hesitant in this case. The printed program gave us names for 22 segments. Let me show you and forgive me if this starts to seem reductive.

1 Sweet Wisdom Music: Donna McKevitt
2 What If Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
3 Silver Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Walter de la Mare
4 Translucense Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
5 Parting Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Janey Lew
6 Nature Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
7 Kalypso Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Duncan McFarlane
8 I sit here immobile Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
9 Two Dreams Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Cecilia Livingston
10 Prelude to Sebastiane Music: Donna McKevitt
11 Sebastiane Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
12 I am a mannish muff diving size queen Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
13 Adam & Eve & Punch-Me-Not Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
14 Impatient Youths Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
15 Mercy Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Duncan McFarlane
16 The System Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
17 No Dragons Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
18 Kiss Goodnight Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Cecilia Livingston
19 Snow Music: Cecilia Livingston; Text: Walter de la Mare
20 A Prelude Music: Donna McKevitt
21 I walk in this garden Music: Donna McKevitt; Text: Derek Jarman
22 February Music: Donna McKevitt

I have been hesitant to speak of authorship except to mention Albery. In the program note by David Jaeger, where I’ve read about Albery’s process assembling music from Donna McKevitt and Cecilia Livingston, it reminded me of a film scoring process, where the music feels subordinate to text & image. The presentation onstage reminded me of a song cycle, sometimes sung by a soloist, sometimes by several of the singers. I heard some people speak of this as opera. Maybe.

When I recall the seminal words of Richard Wagner in Opera and Drama, he summarized the history of opera as a medium meant to employ music for dramatic purposes (to make theatre), that usually used drama for musical purposes (to make music). And there’s nothing wrong with doing the usual operatic thing, to make music that gives us the chance to hear wonderful voices and musicians, whether we call it a song cycle or opera or music-theatre. I think that’s really what Garden of Vanished Pleasures does, showing off the four fabulous voices under the careful leadership of the conductor.

Hyejin Kwon, music director & pianist (photo: Cylla von Tiedemann)

We’re in the last few days before a federal election causing varying degrees of derangement and stress. Friday night I escaped to a Toronto Symphony concert. You can’t trust reviews from someone who is going mad, which is why I want to frame my experience seeing Saturday’s matinee of Garden of Vanished Pleasures from Soundstreams.

MPP Kristin Wong-Tam, violist Brenna Hardy-Kavanagh, cellist Amahl Arulanandam, Soundstreams Artistic Director Lawrence Cherney, David Parsons Ontario Arts Council.

Before the show began we were reminded of how fortunate we are here in Toronto, in a little pre-show talk from MPP Kristin Wong-Tam. While there was no explicit mention of our neighbors to the south but yes, we are lucky and the election is Monday. “Woke culture” is still mentioned by one of the political parties seeking to run the country. While Jarman’s story may be a dark one it serves as genuine escapism, validating norms that some seek to challenge and even to erase.

That made Garden of Vanished Pleasures feel especially cathartic, accompanied by superb visuals, projections designed by Cameron Davis. All four singers sounded wonderful and intelligible too.

Daniel Cabena, Mireille Asselin, Danika Lorèn, Hillary Tufford (photo: Cylla von Tiedemann)
Mireille Asselin, Hillary Tufford, Daniel Cabena (photo: Cylla von Tiedemann)
Mireille Asselin (photo: Cylla von Tiedemann)
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Celebración hispana from Gimeno, Gomyo & TSO

Tonight is the first of three voyages into the heart of the hispanic as imagined in music, guided by Toronto Symphony Music Director Gustavo Gimeno, a program to be repeated Saturday and Sunday that feels like a genuine celebration.

Gustavo Gimeno conducting the Toronto Symphony

While Roy Thomson Hall was completely sold out last week for concerts featuring guest soloist Yuja Wang, tonight there were still tickets available but then again we can’t expect Yuja every night. Last week is was the glory of Slavic composers Janacek & Tchaikovsky, but I am especially happy to trust Gustavo showing us his Hispanic roots. as he did tonight.

Yet there were no weak spots in the pieces curated for our pleasure tonight:

Perú Negro by Jimmy López
The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires by Astor Piazzolla (arranged by Leonid Desyatnikov)
–intermission–
Dance Scenes from the Living Room by Liam Ritz
Suites No. 1 & 2 from Carmen by Georges Bizet (arranged by Fritz Hoffmann)

The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires resembles a baroque violin concerto at first glance, played by soloist Karen Gomyo, with a small string orchestra backing her. That is until you hear the work, the strings sometimes powerfully rhythmic in their attacks, sometimes making sounds as if they had concealed percussion among them, taking us into something much more fun. The musical idiom dances on the edge of something classical and something like a popular dance both in its energetic vitality and the variety of ways the instruments were used, especially Karen’s solo part.

Violinist Karen Gomyo

But of course this is not Vivaldi’s familiar old Four Seasons even if each of the four movements offers a witty quotation from the baroque violin concerti. Although we giggled aloud when we recognized the familiar music it was subtly done.

Karen followed with a superb encore, Tango etude #3 by Piazzolla.

And unlike Yuja last week, she told us what she was playing which is a big help.

The evening’s title was Bizet’s Carmen Suites, as we closed with a pair of suites running roughly half an hour. For me the biggest tragedy of Carmen is that Bizet died without any inkling of the success the opera would find. The premiere and the composer’s death happened 150 years ago. In that half hour we didn’t exhaust the melodic riches of the score. Gustavo has such a superb rapport with the TSO that we were spellbound. I heard no phones going off, a silent audience enraptured by what we were hearing.

Jimmy Lopez’s Perú Negro started our evening with another flavour of music that, while recognizably hispanic in its rhythms, took us into a much more modernist idiom than what was to follow.

After the intermission came a piece that I thought of as the highlight of the night, as it was a great pleasure to applaud the young composer himself on the occasion of the world premiere, namely Liam Ritz’s Dance Scenes from the Living Room, a TSO commission. I saw when I googled that he was born 1996, in other words he’s not yet 30 years old.

Liam Ritz

It is refreshing to read a program note about a modern composition that is accurately described and evoked. I only wish I could hear it again to delve deeper. (And I quote) The piece
reimagines the freedom of dancing in one’s living room, lost within the music, carefree, and without inhibitions. It’s not just a celebration of that inner child, but an invitation to rediscover that same joy and freedom as an adult”.

Gustavo turned the TSO loose for eight minutes of flamboyant fun. Arguably every composer wants to show us who they are, to win us over with their music, right? Well consider me won.

The TSO will be back with the same gorgeous pieces Saturday and Sunday.

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Yuja Wang plays Tchaikovsky with the Toronto Symphony

I have never seen Roy Thomson Hall as full as it was tonight, Wednesday April 16th. They had a cop directing the cars out of the underground parking garage: because so many people came to see Yuja Wang play the piano with the Toronto Symphony conducted by Gustavo Gimeno.

No wonder. Is she more or less acknowledged as the best piano player in the world right now? Forgive me, it’s absurd to try to compare as though there were a competition.

Yuja Wang rehearsing with Gustavo Gimeno and the TSO

Speaking of competitions, tensions were thawed when Van Cliburn won the Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow at the height of the Cold War in 1958 playing Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto. Hard hearts accomplish nothing, let us open our hearts to beauty, whatever its nationality.

But I saw on social media that Yuja’s teacher Gary Graffman doesn’t allow his students to enter competitions, doesn’t believe in them. In a post I saw on Slipped Disc, Graffman said
“‘I was totally against competitions,’ he says. ‘I didn’t allow Lang Lang or Yuja Wang to compete.’

And they’re fine without competitions. She is simply the best.

Gustavo Gimeno, Yuja Wang (photo: Allan Cabral)

We’re having a bit of a Tchaikovsky Festival in Toronto. The Canadian Opera Company will be presenting Eugene Onegin next month, and the TSO and Gustavo will be giving us Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique Symphony (aka #6) in a couple of weeks. That’s on top of the ballet season built around his Nutcracker, Tchaikovsky’s annual gift to their bottom line.

Tonight though it was a concert featuring Yuja Wang playing Tchaikovsky’s 1st Piano Concerto in a sold-out hall. As the program note observed, Tchaikovsky has often been met by condescension: perhaps because he’s popular, wearing his heart on his sleeve. The academics will someday catch up to the public who know beauty when they hear it.

Cartoon by Jessica Mariko @caffeinatedkeyboardist

Yuja’s Tchaikovsky is unique. The soft passages are shaped so beautifully, so clearly articulated, sometimes so soft you lean forward to hear them, for instance in the cadenza to the first movement, the piano sounding like a singer’s meditation, sometimes arriving with great power. Don’t let her size fool you, she has an athlete’s stamina and reserves of power. The TSO responded under Gustavo’s baton, held in reserve until the climactic passages ending the first and last movement,

Yuja Wang and the TSO in rehearsal

There was an explosion of applause and in response Yuja gave us three wonderful encores.

I think the first one was Danzon #2 by the Mexican composer Arturo Márquez. I only knew this because of my friend Yoel Becquer, the lovely young trombone-player sitting beside me at the concert. I took a selfie to properly credit him.

Leslie & Yoel after the concert

Second encore? I don’t know, I’m guessing it’s a Ligeti etude because it was similarly virtuosic & challenging as that first amazing Márquez piece, and I know that Yuja has played & recorded several of them. Beyond that, I’m just guessing. [next day I was told by TSO “SHOSTAKOVICH/arr. Yuja Wang: String Quartet No 8 (Met. 2)”]

So at this point Yuja had already given us the concerto and two remarkable encores.

And she came back for a third, the sixth Philip Glass Etude. While I’ve played the piece it does NOT sound this way when I play it (cue the laughter). Not even close.

There was a whole other half to the program before intermission.

Jocelyn Morlock’s My Name is Amanda Todd is a surprisingly powerful piece. I am of two minds about it, given that its subject is so powerful. When I heard it the first time, at a National Arts Centre concert a few years ago, I was very moved (and tearful): but likely was impacted by the powerful story of Amanda Todd that underlies the composition. Tonight I had another strong response, with additional sadness over the recent untimely death of the composer.

Jocelyn Morlock

I have been reading Time’s Echo, Jeremy Eichler’s 2023 book about music and the Holocaust, that suggests that music can help preserve histories & messages after the eye-witnesses have died: an idea I find interesting yet troubling. Can Morlock’s music tell us about Amanda Todd? I’m not sure, and I think the question is kind of complex, perhaps asking too much of the composition, taking us to the limits of what any music can do. All I do know is that Gustavo brought energy and inspiration to the work. I found myself intrigued and moved by a vulnerability I experienced in the beginning part, music that had me asking myself what I was feeling. At times the voices interact, the different parts seeming to quarrel, discuss, even fight, and eventually find something more unified by the end. I couldn’t help myself, reading Amanda Todd’s story into the music. Gustavo honours the piece, a fascinating emotional tone poem to begin our evening.

Speaking of music with powerful associations, the next work was Janacek’s Sinfonietta, a piece that will enjoy its centennial next year, and that I associate with former TSO music director Karel Ancerl, having heard his recording of the piece with the Czech Philharmonic. I love this piece. I was overwhelmed by what the TSO accomplished under Gustavo’s direction tonight, and hope someday that the TSO records this piece. Oh my God. I think Ancerl always pushed the pedal to the metal in the big brass sections, asking for fortissimo whenever there was an option, while Gustavo is subtler, going for a gradual build-up to the radiant ending. This is one of those times when Roy Thomson Hall’s acoustic sounded really good, the huge brass complement filling the hall perfectly.

Toronto Symphony trumpets (photo: Allan Cabral)

Gustavo invited all the inner voices to come through regardless of whether they were dissonant or not.

Maybe I’m a bit sentimental but when I thought of Ancerl who survived Auschwitz to come to the Toronto Symphony in 1969, I imagined him listening in the stunning perfect last few minutes, as my tears flooded down my face. Yes flooded.

Yuja and Gustavo and the TSO will be back to play the Tchaikovsky and Morlock and Janacek again Thursday and Saturday at 8;00 pm at Roy Thomson Hall. I believe they’re also sold out.

Lorne Michaels

I was thinking Saturday Night Live should get Yuja as their musical guest. Lizzo sang two decent songs this past week, better than the usual. Years ago SNL had Luciano Pavarotti on and surely could afford Yuja.

There’s nobody better.

Come on Lorne!

Gustavo Gimeno, Yuja Wang, Toronto Symphony (photo: Allan Cabral)
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Opera Atelier bring David and Jonathan to Toronto

Opera Atelier brought their opulent 2022 Versailles production of Marc Antoine Charpentier’s 1688 opera/ballet David and Jonathan to Koerner Hall in Toronto. Artistic Director Marshall Pynkoski reminded us last night in his pre-show speech that the company began forty years ago.

This version of the story largely matches what I recall from the Bible, a story that goes from something happy to something much darker including something like madness. Everyone is happy when David defeats the Philistine giant Goliath. But King Saul becomes jealous of the young champion, driving David away, turning upon his son Jonathan and becoming more erratic and demented. Although David and Saul’s son Jonathan love one another, both Jonathan and Saul both eventually die in battle. David becomes King of Israel, heartbroken in the midst of the celebration.

While the Old Testament may be the source, it’s presented through an operatic lens including a witch who conjures a ghost in the Prologue, a trouser role to add an intriguing layer of ambiguity and moments of joyous celebration, fierce passion, jealousy, madness and death.

David (Colin Ainsworth) embraces a dying Jonathan (Mireille Asselin, photo; Bruce Zinger)

The style of the work is ideal for Opera Atelier, showcasing their dancers. Instead of arias, Charpentier’s arioso builds up dramatic tension until it’s released through divertissements in dance and/or chorus. Before intermission the set-pieces are mostly celebratory dance, while after intermission we see dances including sword-play, choreographed by Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg and Fight Director Dominic Who.

A program note from Marshall & Jeannette says
For our 40th Anniversary we wish to reiterate our conviction that period performance is not a museum. It is a threshold–a point of departure and new discoveries”. Looking back on those four decades, one has to admit that not only have they and Opera Atelier been exploring and articulating historically informed performance practices, but we in the audience have been learning how to understand what’s put before us onstage. For this 17th century opera / ballet the gap between historically informed performance and modern interpretation seems narrower than usual, or in other words the work for Marshall and Jeannette on this production feels especially authentic.

Artists of Atelier Ballet (photo: Bruce Zinger)

Gerard Gauci’s set is a perfect match to the wooden surfaces and colour scheme of Koerner Hall’s interior.

In this my first experience of the opera/ballet, I was not always clear on what I was seeing as there’s some ambiguity in the work & its presentation. When we are seeing the happy faces of David or Jonathan, or during the Prologue I had no problem. But the complex scheming and plotting of Achis (the Philistine King, played by Christopher Dunham) and Joabel (the Philistine general, played by Antonin Rondepierre), messing with Saul (the Israelite King, played by David Witczak) left me sometimes unsure whose rantings I was hearing.

Achis (Christopher Dunham) and Saul (David Witczak, photo: Bruce Zinger)

I wonder if there is a movement vocabulary or gestural language to assist in differentiating? except that if Marshall and Jeannette employed these techniques (ways of standing, posing, singing, to signify madness or anger or jealousy) I am not sufficiently literate in these elements to easily decode what I saw. Or maybe it’s simply that the opera is new to me and I will understand it better next time.

The principals were effective, working with the gorgeous sounds of the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra and Tafelmusik Chamber Choir, conducted by David Fallis, sensitively ensuring that the singers were never covered. At times the choir, singing from the balcony, seem to address thoughts inside a singer’s head, as in the scene where Jonathan (Mireille Asselin) contemplates his conflicting loyalties and the upcoming battle. The sanest happiest characters at the heart of the story are the title roles of David (Colin Ainsworth) and Jonathan, surrounded by intrigue and lunacy. It’s a thrill hearing the powerful tenor voice of Colin Ainsworth, a stalwart performer for Opera Atelier.

The Prologue was for me a highlight, Mireille Lebel singing powerfully at the bottom of her vocal range, as the Pythonisse (a witch) conjuring the spirit of Samuel (Stephen Hegedus), who tells Saul (David Witczak) that heaven has abandoned him, similar to what we can read in 1 Samuel 28. It was compelling theatre to watch a 17th century take on madness as seen in the gradual decline and collapse of Saul.

Charpentier’s David and Jonathan will be presented again at Koerner Hall this weekend with performances Thursday April 10 and Saturday April 12 at 7:30 pm, and Sunday April 13 at 2:30pm.
For tickets click here.

Marshall Pynkoski and Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg in Versailles (photo: Bruce Zinger)

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Madelaine Rose talks about Passed Down, her new solo show

Madelaine Rose is an accomplished Toronto based multi-hyphenated internationally recognized award winning creator. She is an actor, producer and director with experience and training in both film and theatre. You can read a more detailed bio here on IMDB. I saw & reviewed Madelaine Rose in 2017 in Flea in her Ear and had hoped to work with her a few years ago in a production (that didn’t happen) so of course I’m a big fan.

Now Madelaine is doing her one-woman show Passed Down as part of Solo’d Out, a festival of solo plays at Red Sandcastle Theatre that runs April 17-27. Passed Down opens April 19th. I wanted to discover more about Madelaine and Passed Down so I asked her a few questions.

*******

Barczablog: Are you more like your father or mother?

Madelaine Rose : I often talk about how I feel like I was raised by a village. That village included my parents, but also my siblings, my grandparents, step-parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, biological family and chosen family. And I think I’m a little bit like all of these folks that had a hand in raising me.

My Mum is so creative, and I definitely feel like I get that from her, but my Dad is very logical and practical, and I feel like I also get that from him. I feel like my performer hat is from my Mum, and my Producer hat is from Dad.

But also somehow I feel like I’m so much like my grandmother, Pam Hobbs. She’s quite possibly the coolest person I’ve ever known, she is 95 and has truly no clue how old that is, she’s an author, and she spent so much of her life travelling the world and writing articles about the places she travelled to. She’s such a brilliant writer and I always thought the writing gene must have skipped me, until a couple of years ago when I finally started writing plays. Like this one!

Madelaine Rose

BB: What is the best or worst thing about what you do?

Madelaine Rose: I have the same answer for both! The best thing I do, is that I get to wear so many hats in this industry, the worst thing I do is also that I have to wear so many hats in this industry. Theatre and the arts in general feel like they’ve changed so much in the past decade or so since I started. I started my journey in this industry as an actor. But it quickly became apparent to me that that wasn’t enough. I started producing, then I fell into directing and eventually writing. I love all of these different facets of my artistic practice that I’ve fallen into. And I feel like each of them has given me a new love and respect for the other. I love producing and pulling a team together, doing things my way by leading with compassion and care. I also love directing and working with actors in such a meaningful way, finding all of the little nuances in a piece and bringing them to light. I have also found a newer love for writing, for putting jokes into a script, or coming up with just the right word for a character to say. But all of that can also be exhausting, especially when you’re doing so many of those things on the same project!

BB: Who do you like to listen to or watch?

Madelaine Rose: I’ll happily listen to or watch a wide range of genres, and mediums, as long as it’s good, or so bad it becomes good again, or really if there’s something interesting about it! Lately I’ve been watching the newest season of Survivor. I grew up watching it so to see that it’s not only still on but going very strong 20 years later is really captivating to me. I’m also part of a movie club which means I watch a different movie every month and meet with some friends to discuss it. Who gets to pick that month rotates, so I’m forever watching a wide range of genres and movies, some of which I’d never have thought to watch before which is part of the beauty of it!

BB: What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?

Madelaine Rose: I’m not always the most technically inclined, I mean I can pass when it comes to tech stuff, but in the theatre and film worlds I am completely lost past the point of being able to plug things in and knowing the image I’m looking to create. It’s probably for the best though, being able to collaborate and work with others who are more knowledgeable in other areas is one of the best parts of creating theatre and film.

I’d also love to be able to paint, it seems so relaxing and there’s something so lovely about visual mediums where you have such a tangible product at the end.

BB: When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?

Madelaine Rose: Hiking! Being outside in general.

Often after a big project, after I’ve spent so many months working like crazy on something, the best way for me to decompress and ground myself is to go for a long walk in the woods. Bonus points if there’s good company and snacks!

BB: What was your first experience of live theatre ?

Madelaine Rose: I think one of my first experiences with theatre was when I took drama classes as a kid. We definitely needed some sort of outlet as kids, especially me (I was definitely that hyper kid who never stopped moving), and I think the idea of sports bored my Mum so she put us into theatre instead. Little did she know, with me anyways, it would stick! I remember being bummed that I didn’t get cast as the lead, but I also don’t remember ever having stage fright. I don’t think there was ever an ounce of fear in me as a kid at the thought of running onto a stage in front of however many audience members. Those classes ended in a show on one of the biggest stages I’d performed on still to this day, and someone video taped it. I’ve since watched it back and I absolutely flubbed my lines, and yet I loved it! I hammed it up and made the audience laugh. I was like 8.

BB: Tell me about your upcoming solo show Passed Down.

Madelaine Rose: Passed Down was co-written by myself and the brilliantly talented Rosalyn Cosgrove, who is also directing it, and will be stage managed by Monique Danielle. Rosalyn is based in the UK so all of our meetings have been through video chat which has been it’s own fun, quirky experience, but I couldn’t imagine working with anyone else on this play. Rosalyn and I wrote out a short version of it for a 24-hr play writing contest, and decided to expand it for the festival. We’ve had a really great time finding ways to create tension in the play, to add moments of humour and to really dive into this medium of a one-person show.

This play is about Persephone, a young woman who inherits her Great Aunt’s Victorian-style home after her passing. It’s the first night in her new home, she’s filled with excitement and can’t wait to make this house her own, she’s invited her best friend over to christen the new place with a fabulous dinner. Through a series of phone calls with her Mums, and digging around she starts to learn more about the family history and wonders if the house is the only thing she’s inherited…

BB: The Eventbrite listing says the following:
This one-person thriller will have you on the edge of your seat for the full 60-minutes, wondering if Persephone is indeed all alone in this house… or even stage.
Be Careful what you inherit
!
It makes me want to ask: do you really want to scare us
?

Madelaine Rose: I do! My director and I have talked lots about using the space in such a way to make the audience feel like they’re in this house with me, like they’re stuck here too!

BB: What are your favourite scary stories?

Madelaine Rose: Shaun of the Dead is one of my favourite movies, and I love the idea of mixing horror and comedy. I think it’s really smart and a great way to take care of your audience, to sort of make them laugh, then scare the heck out of them!

I also really like the series Haunting of Bly Manor. I like when folks take the classic horror movie genre and turn it into something else, like a TV series, or mix it with comedy, or in my case turn it into a play.

BB: Who are your main horror influences?

Madelaine Rose: I’ve only recently found a love for the horror/ thriller genre. Growing up horror wasn’t really anyone in my village’s thing so I wasn’t particularly exposed to it. However over the years I’ve slowly started getting into the genre as more and more critically acclaimed films from the genre felt like a “must watch,” such as Get Out, or Us. Then about 5 years ago some friends from my improv class started a movie club, and one of the members is a Horror professor, so naturally I began watching more horror, and really finding myself getting into the genre. I don’t know that I have any particular influences but I love a good old school horror, or creature feature. I’m a fan of the Scream series and really anything that has become a cult classic.

BB: Is there a genuine lesson to be learned from Passed Down, noting that your poster says
Be careful what you inherit“?

Madelaine Rose: You’ll just have to come check it out to find out for yourself! I do think there are lessons to be learned here when it comes to the story, but also when it comes to playing with the genre, and space.

BB: Talk about the excitement & challenge of a solo show.

Madelaine Rose: I have directed two solo shows in the past, but this is the first one that I’ve written and am starring in! I enjoy directing one-person shows, and getting to work one-on-one with an actor, and often times one-person shows can be very personal, so I’m forever grateful to the actors who bring me on to direct their one-person shows and share than vulnerability and authenticity with me. So creating my own felt like it was inevitable, it felt like it was time.

One-person shows definitely come with their own set of challenges. When I direct them I’m always trying to be conscious not to have my actor simply stand there and just spew their lines at the audience. With only one person on stage it can be hard to keep the show moving and dynamic.

As an actor though, there’s a whole host of other challenges that come up. I will be on stage, by myself, for 60 minutes! That’s a long time! Stamina, energy and the ability to talk for an hour straight all come in to play here.

As an artist though I really like to explore the medium I’m working with and the space I’m in. So I think myself and my director have had a really fun time exploring the ins and outs of the one-person play medium.

BB: You’re part of Solo’d Out: a one-person play festival, brought to you by Sigh No More Productions and Mad Butterfly Creative. Who are they?

Madelaine Rose: Sigh No More Productions is actually my production company (created by myself, Kareen Mallon and Natalie Morgan), and Mad Butterfly Creative belongs to Kelly Taylor, who is also the creator of “Thank U, Ex!” one of the other plays featured in Solo’d Out. Kelly and I met in 2017 when she cast me in her show “Ladies Sigh No More,” she was also acting in this show, and our two characters, Ophelia and Desdemona, were to be best friends (you may even see a little nod to this friendship in Passed Down). Well life imitated art because Kelly and I did indeed become good friends, and have worked together on many projects now. I often describe her as my partner-in-art. Kelly has this incredible ability to dive head first into a project and figure it out on the way down, her ability to just go for it is something that I am always in awe of. She’s the one who grabs my hand and says “let’s jump!”

For Solo’d Out, we came about the idea because both of us applied to a well known theatre festival and neither of us got in. She had a one-person show that she’d toured, quite successfully, across Canada and internationally, but never felt like she was able to do it properly here in Toronto. Whereas I on the other hand had ideas for one-person shows but didn’t know where to put them up. We also knew other folks with one-person shows in need of a somewhere to showcase them, so Solo’d Out was born! We applied for grants, and thankfully Canada Council for the Arts was generous enough to fund this idea. We’re so excited to share these solo shows, and all that this festival has to offer with Toronto Theatre audiences. We’re also hosting this festival at The Red Sandcastle Theatre where “Ladies Sigh No More” went up so many years ago. It feels like a really sweet full circle moment for us.

BB: Do you have any influences / teachers you would like to acknowledge?

Madelaine Rose: First and foremost I want to acknowledge Kelly Taylor, she’s been my partner in this festival, but also my partner-in-art and she’s been my mentor for so long now. I truly wouldn’t have accomplished many of the projects that I have without her influence.

Kelly Taylor

I’d also love to acknowledge some of my early career influences like my professor from York University Aleksandar Lukac, he showed me what it’s like to create weird and wonderful art, much like this show!

Aleksandar (aka Sasha) Lukac

I’m also incredibly grateful to all of the artists, crew, and supporters of Solo’d Out, and Passed Down, putting this festival up has been a dream come true and it’s only possible because of the amazing team of artists who have put so much work into it!

Madelaine Rose

Passed Down is part of Solo’d Out, a Festival of Solo shows April 17-27 at the Red Sandcastle Theatre, 922 Queen St East. Here’s the Solo’d Out Festival website and the eventbrite link for Passed Down.

You can follow Madelaine Rose on her website.

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

Missa Solemnis from Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony

Friday April 4th the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir conducted by Jean-Sébastien Vallée presented Beethoven’s glorious Missa Solemnis to a partially – full Roy Thomson Hall.

Jean-Sébastien Vallée, Artistic Director of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir

The Missa Solemnis is a perfect showcase for JS and his impeccable baton work leading this big ensemble, the huge Choir cutting off cleanly, entering boldly when asked. As the title suggests, it is a solemn work, among the finest works ever created by Beethoven.

Our orchestral experience came courtesy of the Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony, sounding entirely at home in the warm confines of Roy Thomson Hall.

Missa Solemnis includes a gorgeous series of violin solos during the Sanctus resembling a violin concerto. Bénédicte Lauzière made a stunning account of this intriguing section, where Beethoven’s spirituality takes a somewhat secular form. For me this was the highlight of the evening.

(l-r) Concertmaster Bénédicte Lauzière, Brett Polegato, Jean-Sébastien Vallée and Frédéric Antoun, before the K-W Symphony and the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir

Speaking of solos we were fortunate to have an excellent quartet of Canadians. Mezzo-soprano Simona Genga was impeccable in her phrasing and dynamics, a big voice at her command when she wanted, subdued and perfectly blended with the ensemble much of the time. Tracy Cantin reminded us of the dramatic sound she brought to the Canadian Opera Company as Lady Macbeth.

(l-r) Frédéric Antoun, Jean-Sébastien Vallée, Simona Genga & Tracy Cantin accepting our applause, with the K-W Symphony and the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir

It was great to hear tenor Frédéric Antoun (a stylish interpretation) and baritone Brett Polegato (his voice sounding bigger and darker than ever).

This is the first time for me to see the Missa Solemnis in person. It’s a subtler work than the 9th symphony, not as popular and a colossal undertaking. Tonight’s audience received the performance rapturously.

Before the concert I had a chance to chat with my friend Bruce McGillivray, who plays a double bass with the K-W Symphony. I interviewed him back in 2022. We met through our parents, who shared the same room at Bridgepoint rehab hospital in 2021.

Bruce McGillivray and his instrument

It was great to have a chance to reconnect before this wonderful concert.

Posted in Music and musicology, My mother, Reviews | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ardra Shephard’s surprising Fallosophy

I have just roared through Ardra Shephard’s memoir, a book that I loved from start to finish, wishing it wouldn’t end. I did not expect such a fun book.

If I call Ardra a multiple sclerosis activist it could make your eyes glaze over: but pay attention or you’ll miss the point.

Author and activist Ardra Shephard

The title Fall-osophy: My Trip through Life with MS is a tiny clue.

And then there’s the cover, the cartoony image showing someone flying ass over tea-kettle, a shoe coming off and a cane launched into the sky. This is a memoir of someone who knows how to live regardless of what life has thrown at her.

In Fall-osophy: My Trip through Life with MS you can’t help noticing that we’re in a realm of puns and jests, the perspective of someone sharing their trips and fall-osophy. Shakespeare would approve, the multiple meanings not so much suggesting comedy as the instability of meaning, the fluidity of a life that is perpetually unstable: as it must be when you discover you have relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis, or RRMS.

To say it’s funny is simplistic. Yes you have to find a way to laugh at the craziness you face with MS.

I’m in awe of Ardra for the fluidity of her prose, making the narrative about her journey feel universal, so relatable that it’s irresistible, overwhelmed to encounter so much wit so much brilliance. I am a bit starstruck to be honest. I fell for Fall-osophy, tripped up by its language and kick-ass attitude. I was seduced because instead of something serious and heavy and telling me what to think, I found myself giggling at every page, sometimes every paragraph, wishing I’d been invited to the party or at least asked to play the piano while she sang. Ardra is in your face challenging assumptions as though she’s somewhere between AOC and a stand-up comic, when she’s not telling us about not being able to stand up. I thought of the mouthy comedy of a Joan Rivers or a Chelsea Handler: confronting MS, confronting our dumb-ass assumptions, confronting thoughtless people. I was uplifted by this positive energy that inspired me even as I was also moved. Yes a few times I was surprised by tears precisely because it was never where you expect.

Great writing.

At several points I stopped reading to make notes, wanting to capture Ardra’s wisdom. For example at one point she articulated something Erika and I have struggled with for decades.

Ardra wrote
On some level, I already have a sense that one of the burdens of being sick forever is to let others know I’m okay.

First off: yes chronic illness means “sick forever”: a funny turn of phrase, but that’s why it’s powerful.

And holy shit this impacts relationships, especially loving intimate relationships. This might be the most romantic book I have ever read because of how truthful it dares to be. I’m almost ashamed to admit it, because my version of reality was so full of denial and avoidance of pain. Ardra is braver than I.

As a man whose diagnosis for his own tiny chronic condition (minor compared to what Ardra faces, please note) took more than a decade, I had lived a lie, pretending to be normal and okay, sometimes in remission sometimes in pain, faking it because that was my only option. Erika helped me understand that one of the indirect results of my duplicity –pretending to be okay, living in denial of my own pain–was that I was always in denial, sometimes furiously so, making me hard to live with. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, it’s a pain management strategy. If I pretend I’m okay maybe I will be okay: or that was the plan, especially in the decade plus before I knew what was wrong with me. I could get very touchy about being asked if I was okay, as someone who was only pretending to be okay. And yes I know this sounds crazy. The thing is, reading about Ardra’s experience, her brash response to her diagnosis, has been like therapy for me, putting me in touch with the disconnect between expectation and reality.

But I need to point out that this is far beyond MS, because it’s universal as we all get older, at some point acquiring limps and bunions, hunching over, having trouble hearing or seeing or moving, in the disability drag show of simulating competence rather than admitting our need for help. We are all tasked with this question of whether we ask for help, whether we will let others know we are okay. But of course Ardra got the diagnosis at 23, meaning that she began to be aware of the consequences and implications of aging way earlier than most of us.

Another passage that hit home was when she suggested that the diagnosis was in some way her own fault. Ardra wrote
A few weeks later I will think back to that drunken night and consider that my attempted conversation with the underworld and the shady deals I tried to strike with the Prince of Darkness somehow led to my diagnosis. Random shit doesn’t just happen. Bad things happen to bitchy people, and it couldn’t just be terrible luck that I’d gotten MS. There had to have been a reason, and for a few years, I will believe the reason is me.

So in addition to bearing the burden of the diagnosis, there was blame.

We watch a progression in the romantic story she tells, wondering if the bf The Bartender aka TB will still be in the picture later in Ardra’s story.
For the rest of the trip, The Bartender never takes his eyes off of me. He seems to know when I want to move and is ready with an arm to steady me. I’m not completely incapacitated. We still lounge by the pool, play cards and go to the shows. We’re still having sex. But it’s not the same. My whole body feels foreign to me. Like I’ve been Freaky Friday’d and I’m existing in someone else’s skin, waiting for lightning to strike and put me back in my own anatomy.

I’m reminded of the dark humour of Trainwreck, trying to hear how this might sound if it were Amy Schumer delivering her verdict on Bill Hader.
The Bartender has taken good care of me, but back in Canada, he drops me off at my parents’ place looking visibly relieved. My mom invites him to come in and have a drink, but he declines. Like an under-qualified babysitter handing back a kid they had no idea was an uncontrolled pyromaniac, he can’t get away fast enough. I can’t blame him. He signed up for a sexy beach vacay, not an unpaid internship as a personal care worker. I didn’t exactly nail fun, cool and low maintenance, but I have bigger things to worry about
.

This is much more than a story about MS. We see real-life implications for relating, for living, for loving. And it’s so authentic, so blunt I couldn’t stop reading.

The conflict between empowerment and the underlying powerlessness of MS lurks in the depths of this story.
With the exception of Dr. Poker Face, who uncharacteristically has an ominous reaction when I skip into his office declaring myself basically cured, everyone compliments me for how I’m fighting this disease and winning. My MS is stable and I’m taking all the credit. I have smugly solved MS.
Of course, the flip side of giving yourself props for doing well with this disease, for believing you control the outcome, is what happens when you have another attack. If fighting is all it takes to beat MS, who’s the loser when there’s another relapse
?

Irony is a big part of Ardra’s toolkit, as she regularly tosses dark questions at the reader, working through stages of accepting the diagnosis. I wonder if there’s something equivalent or analogical to the Kubler-Ross stages of accepting death at work? her vulnerability is astonishing as she lays herself bare before the reader. For example…
I think back to an event I attended when I was first diagnosed—a “Welcome to MS” information night when Mac’s top neuro talked to patients about treatments and research. When he said that in all of his years of treating MS the patients who did the best were the ones who accepted their diagnosis, I was outraged. I thought he was a quack. What kind of doctor tells you to kick back and accept it? My intention is to fight this disease with everything I’ve got, and to me that means being on high alert.
Of course, the cost of my vigilance is steep and unsustainable. Every day, I wake up worrying about my next relapse, but crying and freaking out don’t seem to be staving off attacks. I don’t know how to not be scared of what is unquestionably scary. Although most of my moods are future-based daymares, I can’t deny that I miss the old me. I miss all of the mes I could have been if MS hadn’t entered the picture. Maybe I am depressed. I book a follow-up appointment and get on the bus to go home
.

And Ardra’s tone and outlook change several times on our way through the memoir.

Yet fun is still possible.
A day of pampering isn’t what it used to be. No sufficient word exists to describe the pain of dysesthesia. My feet are medically cold. My toes barely warm up in the spa’s tub of what I presume is hot water. My toenails are the colour of frostbite and the aesthetician tries to scrub off what she imagines are the remnants of blue polish (and not a sneak peek at my future corpse feet). Pedicures trigger spasticity, which causes my legs to seize, and/or clonus, an abnormal reflex that makes my feet bounce uncontrollably. I tend to tip extra if it even seems like I might kick my pedicurist in the face.

I hope I don’t seem to be a psycho that I find Ardra’s writing funny, but her self-deprecatory confessional writing slays me totally. She’s not letting MS stop her, and it’s beyond admirable. At moments like this I return to the title and the image on the cover of the memoir.
The Manhattans were my most recent bad decision, but my first mistake was my choice of underwear. I lost my balance trying to pull down my skin-tight slip and stumbled backwards over (and kind of into?) the waist-high garbage can. And that’s how I ended up huffing bleach on the floor. All because I am incapable of putting comfort and practicality ahead of style. Well, that and also alcohol. MS was a factor, but I think we can all agree I did this to myself.

I should know better.
I do know better.
This is my fault.

While Manhattans aren’t what I drink I admire the dryness of the descriptions if not the drink (which isn’t dry).

The deeper we get into the book the darker the prose. To each their own, but I love the way she handles the darkness.
Statistically, MS shaves roughly eight years off of life expectancy, which sounds a lot to me like MS is, in fact, coming for you, albeit eventually. … But eight years is the lifespan of the average Saint Bernard, and I for one am not comforted by the thought of MS shortening my life by one whole dog.

The story becomes more serious, as for instance in contemplating a medically assisted end of life scenario.
It’s upsetting to realize that while I continue to wait for a spot to open up in rehab, I could be approved for MAID (Medical Assistance in Dying) in just ninety days. In addition to complaints of insufficient, under-resourced health care, a staggering number of disabled people point out the critical lack of adequate accessible housing that is driving them to seek out MAID. With so many sick people struggling to simply exist on a disability income that keeps them in poverty, it’s hard to believe that policy-makers are ultimately concerned with “dignity.” When death is the alternative to a properly funded health-care system, it starts to feel kinda eugenics-y.

There’s so much more to Ardra’s life than this book as you discover when you read the jacket cover, and she’s living that life with authenticity.

Ardra Shephard (photo: Alkan Emin)

Tripping on air is Ardra’s blog.

There is also a podcast.

The book is the outcome of her growth as a media creator and writer. I’m in awe of her writing style and her attitude to life. If I’ve persuaded you to consider buying the book, here’s the link to Douglas & McIntyre’s website, where you can have a look.

Posted in Books & Literature, Food, Health and Nutrition | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

TSO, Angela Hewitt & Marta Gardolińska

I went home satisfied from tonight’s Toronto Symphony concert, a program including some items exactly as expected plus a few surprises.

For an evening titled “Angela Hewitt Plays Mozart” it was a very solid collaboration between the famous pianist and a young conductor from Poland named Marta Gardolińska leading the TSO.

At times Hewitt moves her left hand in response to the orchestral music almost as though she were conducting, seeming at least to be a mentor to the ensemble and their youthful leader. I’ve been listening to this 21st piano concerto of Mozart K467 all my life, so I was grateful to hear a touchstone executed faithfully with a couple of wonderful cadenzas. Hewitt didn’t seem to be working hard, her performance as effortless and perfect as her smiles.

Angela Hewitt (photo: Keith Saunders)

For an encore we went to the expected fountain of her inspiration, namely JS Bach. Before playing the Aria of the Goldberg Variations, she spoke of her joy being back in Canada, in Toronto, winning the enthusiastic applause of a patriotic crowd who had already risen to sing our national anthem.

We were told of the personal significance for Hewitt of 2025, as the 40th anniversary of a prize won here for playing Bach, the 50th anniversary of her first performance of the Goldbergs in Lunenberg NS. (I hope I got that right)

Her encore was pure magic.

For the remainder of the program we were in the realm of the unexpected.

We began with an Overture by Anton Reicha, a Czech-born contemporary of Beethoven whose work is largely forgotten, at least until recently. The first part of the Overture is conservative but before long it begins to employ an infectious dance rhythm in the uncommon time-signature of 5/4, that you might know from the modern piece Take Five, except we were in a folk idiom rather than anything jazzy.

Gardolińska showed herself to be firmly in charge during the Reicha Overture and the Mozart concerto.

The concluding work on the program, Mendelssohn’s Symphony #3 was for me the highlight of the evening, and reason to expect great things from this young conductor.

Conductor Marta Gardolińska

I’ve been listening to different interpretations of this work, subtitled “Scottish”. Mendelssohn is often singled out for the way his travels inspired works with local colour such as his Italian Symphony or his Hebrides Overture. This moody symphony is another great example of romanticism in music, although it can lead to a great variety of interpretation. There are four movements, two of them subdivided, allowing a great many ways to assemble the parts. I grew up on a very slow thoughtful disc from Otto Klemperer, recalling an admonition (from someone, surely not him but someone analyzing his approach) that a melody must never go so fast that it fails to be properly articulated. Of course tastes vary, and levels of skill may change from century to century especially as instruments are improved (valves for example), so that while his recordings clearly articulate every part, his tempi are largely out of favour, slower than what one usually encounters in a modern concert hall. Perhaps I am a bit of a dinosaur in adoring what Klemperer does on this symphony, even if for many other works I think he’s too slow.

I invoke him before mentioning the choices from tonight’s interpreter, Marta Gardolińska, who at times came closer to my beloved Klemperer than I’ve heard in awhile, particularly at the end. Her opening movement Andante con moto was sufficiently slow and thoughtful, preface to the Allegro un poco agitato (a little agitated), although I think her agitato was more than un poco. But it was tasteful, beautifully articulated as the TSO players responded to her leadership. The second movement vivace non troppo was as everyone does it nowadays, which is to say (in my opinion) ignoring that “non troppo” (not too much). The brass were magnificent in response, clearly phrasing the climax done at a pace I do find troppo. Perhaps the skills of modern players are improved beyond what Mendelssohn could have imagined in his time. Bold and brave as it was, I like it a bit more restrained, but it still works. Then when we reached the Adagio Gardolińska surprised me, taking things slower than anyone I’ve heard in a long time, carefully drawing out the luscious string melodies to make Otto proud (wherever he has gone), as we experienced the most deeply sensuous meditation. For one who appears to be so young, Gardolińska’s displays great maturity and good taste.

The finale, with its multiple segments, regularly frustrates me, conductors racing through the Allegro vivacissimo (although I wonder if Mendelssohn could have imagined the pace taken tonight): but one can’t blame her when the composer more or less asked for it, right? There is a slow transition passage to remind us of the fast themes in a dreamy reminiscence in A minor of the Allegro, before the A major asserts itself in the Allegro maestoso assai. I regularly cringe in horror because we don’t usually get something genuinely maestoso (majestic): that is, not if the conductor races through the finale.

Miraculo! Tears rolling down my cheeks for the whole movement, stunning, truly majestic, as the melody was allowed to take shape rather than forced. The ensemble built from a soft assertion of the hopeful melody. And once again this orchestra responded, making something stunningly beautiful.

I am once again impressed at the powers that be at the TSO who find new talent, in this case the brilliant Marta Gardolińska. I recommend this concert, repeating Thursday & Saturday at Roy Thomson Hall, plus Sunday afternoon at George Weston Recital Hall.

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Talking to Jennifer King about Souvenance, her new piano album

Spirited and sensitive, Jennifer King is a versatile pianist who enjoys exploring the world of classical music in the 21st century through the presentation of new music and the revisiting of past musical gems. She has established herself as a sought-after talent on concert stages across Atlantic Canada in both the role of soloist and collaborative artist. Her remarkable career spans three decades and the impact of her artistry has inspired the dedication of piano works and a growing number of commissions from Canadian composers. King’s countless contributions to musical life in the province have been celebrated with an Award of Appreciation from the Lieutenant Governor of Nova Scotia.

These past several years have seen King truly blossom as a recording artist. Frequently heard on CBC Ici Music and CBC Radio 2, her growing catalogue of works began with the 2018 release of O Mistress Moon, a collection of two centuries of Nocturnes and night inspired music. Consecutive releases include a live recording in 2019 (Doolittle: Minute Études “Excerpts”) and a collection of twelve short piano works inspired by fairy tales in 2020 (Twilight Hour: Collected Stories for Piano). In 2022, Jennifer released O Mistress Moon: Canadian Edition. Distributed by Leaf Music in Halifax, this set of twelve contemporary piano works embodies the moon, outer space, and the night. The album has received praise for its “dramatic out of this world sonic listening” (The WholeNote); it won Classical Album of the Year at the East Coast Music Awards 2023; has been featured on the cover of Tidal Music’s Piano Spheres playlist; and has seen numerous tracks featured in Apple Music curated playlists.

A familiar face on stages across Atlantic Canada, Jennifer has presented hundreds of recitals for many of our region’s iconic festivals and concert series. Jennifer also has co-written a musical play with mezzo-soprano Suzanne Campbell about women gaining the right to vote.  “The Bessie Carruthers Study Club” features Jennifer as British composer and suffragist, Ethel Smyth while Suzanne plays the titular real life figure of Bessie. This play won a Prince Edward Island Heritage Recognition Award in March 2024 and received funding to tour by Innovation PEI and PEI Culture Action Plan. 

Jennifer King (photo: Jive Photographic)

April 25th Jennifer releases a solo album of music by women composers such as Ethel Smyth and Clara Wieck-Schumann. I was happy to have the opportunity to ask her some questions.

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Barczablog: Are you more like your father or mother?

Jennifer King: My mother was a piano teacher who taught me at a very early age to sing and play. She showed me how the music staves worked when I was 4 and then I immediately read the whole beginner piano book. Reading music has always made sense to my brain, and I love the brain stimulation from reading music, absorbing it and performing music on the piano.

BB: What is the best or worst thing about what you do?

Jennifer King: While I don’t enjoy sitting for long periods of time, I do enjoy the activity of sitting at the piano. But I love being physically active so I power walk, hike (backwoods backpacking) and sea kayak, all great activities I love that provide a nice balance with my long hours at the piano.

BB: Who do you like to listen to or watch?

Jennifer King: Right now I am rewatching Mad Men. I hope we aren’t going back to those times.

BB: What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?

Jennifer King: I would love to be better at hearing chord progressions. I can remember melodies but I would love to be more skilled in harmonic listening. Both my son and mother are SO good at this. I am jealous of them!

BB: When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?

Jennifer King: Bake and make soup.

BB: Who do you think of first, when I ask you to name the best pianist ?

Jennifer King: Martha Argerich

BB: What was your first experience of music ?

Jennifer King: I don’t remember as it’s been that long, but my first performance was singing when I was 5 years old. My mother’s student, also 5, accompanied me on the piano. I think it was called the Chipmunk’s Lullaby.

BB What’s your favourite piece of piano music?

Jennifer King: Anything by Ravel

BB: do you have any ideas about reforming / modernizing classical music culture to better align with modern audiences ?

Jennifer King: Yes! I feel we need to use simpler language and take away the exclusivity of the classical world. This music speaks and tells stories, there are SO many entry ways to introduce new and diverse audiences, but we can’t keep doing the “same ol’ same ol’” . Music lives and breathes and can transcend time. Curation and inclusive vision at the top of arts organizations can help keep classical audiences engaged and refreshed.

BB: Talk about women in the classical music business. Is it roughly the same as society, or perhaps better? or worse?

Jennifer King: Unfortunately there is a long culture of “shelving” women in the classical music business and this includes composers and performers. I feel it is worse than in society. I love what Lady Gaga said recently about her lifetime achievement award at 38. I mean really? She took them to task for this award which basically said “ your time is up!” Music is a lifetime career and if you have the drive and energy to keep exploring and pushing yourself, no one has the right to limit you. That’s why I included Joni Mitchell on this album. What an inspiration!

Jennifer King (photo: Jive Photographic)

BB: As mentioned, your upcoming record features Women Composers. Classical music is changing very slowly. Between #MeToo, artists being called out, or instrumental activist Katherine Needleman would you say that the classical music world is changing fast enough for you?

Jennifer King: NO it is not changing fast enough but slowly and surely I hope things will improve. Yes, this album features composers who are women but the album is also about giving voice to composers who haven’t always had representation in concert halls. I have been working at championing female composers, and supporting composers in my community for some time.

When I discovered Ethel Smyth’s music it made me very curious about what other voices aren’t being heard, which led me to learning more about Mel Bonis, Fanny Mendelssohn and on and on… There are SO many voices to discover! This album just scratches the surface.

BB: Tell us more about the female composers on your recording.

Jennifer King: I am particularly fond of Ethel Smyth and her music. There is only one short Nocturne on this album but I have performed some of her songs, including her famous suffragette anthem, March of the Women, and will soon perform her Violin/Piano Sonata. I have also read her memoirs and listened to her operas and other large scale works. She was a force to be reckoned with! She gave up composing for two years to dedicate herself to helping British women gain the right to vote. I co-wrote a musical play with my friend, PEI singer Suzanne Campbell about Ethel’s battle called the Bessie Carruthers Study Club. Again, Ethel is a force and a beautiful composer with stunning music that should be more known.

BB: Wow, I see it was presented last year..! I hope you will get to present this again, perhaps here in Ontario.

Jennifer King: Thank you. This play was a lot of work and we were lucky the past two summers to receive support and funding to present it – once in a small theatre in PEI for a residency in 2023 – The Souris Showhouse and in the summer 2024, Innovation PEI and PEI Culture Action Plan gave us a grant to do a tour in PEI and Nova Scotia. 

Jennifer King as as English composer Ethel Smyth (photo: Lesley Evison)
The Bessie Carruthers Study Club stars Suzanne Campbell (right) as Bessie Carruthers, with Jennifer King as English composer Ethel Smyth.  (photo: Lesley Evison)

Both Suzanne and I would love to present it again and hope to so possibly this summer or in 2026! We are very open to presenters or conferences as this is a fun interactive show as the audience becomes the study club and it includes sing -alongs as well.

It’s lots of fun playing Ethel Smyth. 

BB: Are women composers getting their due finally?

Jennifer King: It’s starting, but everyone (at all levels of arts organizations and in the music business) has to be on board. International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month are great opportunities to showcase female -identifying composers, but this problem is endemic. Concerted efforts need to be made with orchestras and arts organizations. [do we finally listen to them simply because they’re good? or are we still noticing the gender] We should listen because the music is extremely worthy and tells a bigger narrative about life from a woman’s perspective.

BB: Do you have any upcoming projects / shows / workshops you might want to mention / promote?

Jennifer King: Sure! I have a concert in Halifax on Saturday April 14th 7:30 pm at The Music Room with a violist from the OSM- Rosie Shaw. She is also a composer and has written solo works for viola, violin and viola/piano duo for the concert. We are also performing Rebecca Clarke’s Viola and Piano Sonata and Ethel Smyth’s Violin and Piano Sonata. Rosie and I have corresponded by email and had a few phone conversations, she heard my Scriabin Nocturne recording on CBC and loved my playing so much, she reached out to do a concert here. I think that’s pretty cool, and also very flattering. I can’t wait to start rehearsals with her.

Also excited for the “Souvenance” album launch on April 28th, 7pm at Central Library in Halifax, NS which the Mel Bonis website in France has also just shared. I am so honoured.

BB: Are music programs doing enough to prepare students for the business?

Jennifer King: No not really, but there are other organizations that can help. Here in Nova Scotia we have Music Nova Scotia. I have learned lots of great business skills from attending their conferences and workshops.

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JENNIFER’S NEW ALBUM RELEASES ON 04.25.25
Jennifer King’s solo piano album Souvenance is a collection of nocturnes, romances, and meditations grounded in the romantic era and branching into the 20th century. Including rarely heard music by Ethel Smyth, Clara Wieck-Schumann’s beloved “Notturno”, and Jennifer’s own meditation on Joni Mitchell’s “Blue”, the album is an introspective journey rich with heartbreak, hope, strength, and tenderness. Recorded in Jennifer’s living room, Souvenance invites the listener to sit on the piano bench beside her for a deeply personal experience of the music. Souvenances composers are all women, most of whom faced formidable gender-based barriers to having their voices heard. 

The album launch on Facebook can be found here.

Souvenance

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