Life Reflected

Posted on June 19, 2017 by barczablog

Tonight I enjoyed the sole Toronto performance of Life Reflected at Sony Centre, a multi-media anthology produced by the National Arts Centre Orchestra, celebrating four Canadian women as part of the Luminato Festival.  Google tells me that Life Reflected was first presented in May at the NAC, produced and directed by Donna Feore, conducted by Alexander Shelley: an ambitious undertaking, however you choose to understand it.

These four women were the subject of a segment:

  • Alice Munro
  • Amanda Todd
  • Roberta Bondar
  • Rita Joe

Each one represents a story told in a different way, although I understand this primarily as a pretext for the NAC Orchestra to commission original compositions for orchestra:

  • Zosha di Castri composed Dear Life, employing words by Alice Munro, spoken on tape by Martha Henry with soprano Erin Wall
  • Jocelyn Morlock composed My Name is Amanda Todd
  • Nicole Lizée composed Bondarsphere
  • John Estacio composed I Lost My Talk, featuring Monique Mojica and dance on film choreographed by Santee Smith
resized_LUMINATO-2017-Life-Reflected-Photo-by-Fred-Cattroll-I-Lost-My-Talk

I Lost My Talk from Life Reflected (Photo: Fred Cattroll)

While the four pieces are linked by design elements, they are quite different, one from another.

Dear Life is like a melodrama –thinking for example of Schönberg’s Ode to Napoleon Bonaparte—where a text is spoken while accompanied by orchestra to illustrate or amplify. We hear Martha Henry’s wonderful speaking voice, while Erin Wall sings something like scat (as in jazz) although some of what she sang is verbal.  I think di Castri was charged with composing something in support of the text and not to compete with it: which she accomplished very respectfully.

My Name is Amanda Todd made me cry, a very simple idea perhaps, but a colossal challenge for composer Morlock, whose score holds your attention for its entire ten minutes. At times the score employed patterns, sometimes shorter phrases, but a very beautiful piece for orchestra.

Bondarsphere was another typical Lizée work, in its inter-connected and self-referential writing, sometimes reminding us of the workings of technology, sometimes being more conventionally orchestral.  We see globes in space, globes shown on TV screens or the globes that float on staff-paper.  The score takes chunks of text –for instance from CBC broadcasts—and uses them as departure points for playful explorations, sometimes in the realm of sampling, sometimes via imitation.  I was reminded of the last Luminato piece I saw in this space namely Einstein on the Beach, complete with another trippy launch of a spaceship every bit as thrilling as what Glass gave us. And while the score seems to want to drill down on its sources, analyzing and sampling and echoing, we do build to something like a diapason from the brass near the end.  This piece drew a huge ovation, although I think we may have missed the actual end of the piece, which went on thoughtfully for awhile after.  I am so in awe of her work, wow I wish I could hear it again (although I need another ‘wow’ for the visuals from NORMAL accompanying the piece, a tidy marriage between all elements).  

Estacio’s I Lost My Talk was the piece of theatre we needed to see at the conclusion.  If Life Reflected is a sesquicentennial project then its credibility rests heavily on this last piece, which is a beautiful reminder of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.  Mojica says so poignantly:

“I talk like you
I think like you
I create like you”

This is the context for cultural genocide, the viewpoint of a child forced to speak the language of the colonizing culture rather than the one into which she was born.  At one point she says something like (this is a paraphrase, whereas the above is a quote) “help me find my talk”.  At first glance I was wondering –in light of the recent conversations about cultural appropriation—how Estacio could be writing this music and how could they dance ballet –which is to say, European music and a European theatrical form? Ah but then it dawned on me, that this is perfectly apt for the lament of one who is telling us that she is speaking to us in OUR language not hers.

I wasn’t surprised to see Donna Feore’s name on this piece.  I enjoyed her work in Stratford recently.

I hope some or all of this can be produced again, at least as concert performances of the music, which is all excellent.  Perhaps they will make a DVD.  The NAC should be proud that they commissioned a full evening of original music. Much as I am grateful for the two minute sesquies we’ve been hearing, this is what a commitment to Canadian culture looks and sounds like.  Bravi..!

Posted in Music and musicology, Reviews | 1 Comment

TSO: a decade’s lessons

Posted on June 15, 2017 by barczablog

The Toronto Symphony’s Decades Project has taken the orchestra and its listeners on a gradual tour through history.  As we’ve progressed forward 10 years at a time we’re less and less able to escape, as more and more we confront the underpinnings of our own time, never more so than in last night’s visit to the 1930s, featuring Barber, Bartok and Weill, plus a world premiere of a short piece by Andrew Balfour.

While the first three items on the program were orchestral pieces, the stage configuration had us anticipating the fourth piece, to come after the interval:

  • Kiwtetin-acahkos—Fanfare of the Peoples of the North, world premiere (Balfour)
  • Adagio for Strings–1936 (Samuel Barber)
  • Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta–1936 (Béla Bartók)
  • The Seven Deadly Sins—1933 (Kurt Weill / words by Bertolt Brecht)

I haven’t thought of Roy Thomson Hall as a stage before, but that’s precisely what we were invited to do through the first works we heard.   Theatre is often a matter of trade-offs, of pragmatic choices, and so we looked at the orchestra led by Peter Oundjian, a bit further away across an empty strip of real estate that glowed with the promise of what was to come.  Yet it was a positive in so many ways, as the concentration of the players upstage made for an interesting acoustic.  Because the players had a wall directly behind them and an open floor to bounce sound, I heard them with great clarity, even if the tightness of the spacing meant one couldn’t always see them too clearly.

When we came to the Brecht-Weill, we were in a kind of mixed medium space fitting for a hybrid that isn’t easily defined. It’s a sung ballet, but the TSO also employed some film mixed with the projection of surtitles, and deployed the performers in various spots around the auditorium.

RESIZED Peter Oundjian, Wallis Giunta, Jennifer McNichols (@Jag Gundu)

Peter Oundjian leads the TSO while the two Annas Wallis Giunta and Jennifer McNichols take the stage at Roy Thomson Hall (photo: Jag Gundu)

The work was ahead of its time, possibly because the personnel weren’t there in the 1930s, the way they are now.  What would Brecht & Weill have made of Cats, or more relevantly, how might they have employed performers who were genuine triple threats in this work?   The TSO opted for opera performers plus one dancer, sometimes choreographed.  Hybrid works –and let’s not forget that opera and ballet are both hybrids –sometimes have us wondering about the parents and influences, as we wonder about the choice of emphasis.  Opera struggled for centuries with questions about text vs music, often with liberal sprinklings of dance & other spectacular effects.  The TSO deserve credit for their ambitious programming, once again turning to Joel Ivany & his collaborators as they did last season for the Mozart Requiem.

There’s so much richness in the work, that it challenges the viewer / listener.  I didn’t know where to look or on whom to focus.  One could simply watch and listen to Wallis Giunta singing and occasionally dancing as one of the two Annas; or watch dancer / choreographer Jennifer Nichols dancing and occasionally speaking as the other Anna.  There is so much going on in the work to begin with, and then when you add movement, acting on multiple places onstage (for instance, when both Annas are there to confuse us with the ambiguities of their similarity / difference), one can focus in many places, not to forget that one might simply listen, while watching the TSO and Oundjian working away upstage, not unlike the dance-band you’d see in an old Hollywood musical.

And nevermind the 1930s, there were many resonances with the recent past, meaning the creators:

  • Ivany and Against the Grain Theatre did Seven Deadly Sins in a smaller space, about five years ago
  • Giunta did some of this in a concert setting four years ago
  • And I can’t help recalling two programs choreographed by Nichols, where she danced as a kind of doppelganger of a vocalist, once in 2014, and again with CASP in 2015

Our attention was torn between the dramatic elements, the choreographed elements, and the pure joy of watching and listening to Giunta interpret the songs, which was aided considerably by some sort of electronic support.  This freed the orchestra to play more or less at will –which was ordained once they decided to face Oundjian upstage, who was unable to really watch or follow; but the way the levels were set, the men were relegated to backup singer status at times.  Ivany’s staging brought out the dark humour in the text, which is (or should be) steeped in the class struggle of the 30s, now somewhat quaint in light of the current brouhaha south of the border.  Karl Marx seems as faraway as Frank Capra, a relic for our sentimental fantasies.  In other words I would have welcomed more political edge, but I suppose the danger in this medium is that one can slide into something bombastic & obvious, whereas Ivany and Nichols kept things very subtle.  The best moments gave us a kind of cabaret sensibility.  I can’t help thinking that this was a work created ahead of its time, that deserves to be done more often, to become more familiar.

I should spare a moment to speak of the pieces occupying the majority of the program.  We began with a wonderfully subtle Sesqui from Andrew Balfour, a work that I don’t want to underestimate, that seemed minimalistic in its two minutes of pulsing and brooding, never overdone. This was the least celebratory Sesqui I’ve heard yet, but given its Peoples of the North association, this is a thoughtful commentary in a year of self-congratulation.The familiar Barber piece came out of that upstage configuration quite well, the cellos situated far upstage but penetrating the texture easily, whether as a byproduct of the stage configuration or through Oundjian’s machinations.  The Bártók in the middle of the program was again a slightly disturbing effect, listening to the orchestra displaced by the space to be used in the Weill, and deployed (as Oundjian explained) symmetrically as two orchestras as per the score.  Was I listening more closely because I had to work a bit harder to see them, clustered upstage? I don’t know.  I may be projecting, but Oundjian seems very relaxed, like a kid still in school during the last week of school, grinning and without a care.  The TSO were totally responsive tonight, themselves seeming totally at ease.

The program repeats on June 15th, minus the Sesqui.

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

Toy Piano Composers play with us as they launch CD

Posted on June 8, 2017 by barczablog

When you stop and think about it, it makes sense. We “play” our instruments right? Then surely all instruments are in a real sense toys, broadening the implications of Toy Piano  Composers, a Toronto collective of music makers who just launched their first album Wednesday night.

And can we somehow retain the magic of a child in its first encounters with their toy, in their exploratory play?

Questions like that were running through my head at this truly extraordinary event at the Ernest Balmer Studio.  There was the usual drinking & schmoozing, which are also playful impulses, but drives to which I can’t surrender when I have to drive: home to Scarborough that is.  But I certainly wanted to celebrate along with them.

The name “Toy Piano Composers” is more than jest, especially when you hear the sort of music we heard in tonight’s programme, all compositions found on the CD.

  • FISHER PRICE LAUGH & LEARN FUN WITH FRIENDS MUSICAL TABLE (Elisha Denburg – 2014)
  • Strange Gazes and Birdsong (Fiona Ryan — 2013)
  • clangor (Monica Pearce – 2013)
  • Walking (Chris Thornborrow — 2013)
  • Encore of FISHER PRICE LAUGH & LEARN FUN WITH FRIENDS MUSICAL TABLE
toy

It sounds as cute as it looks

We began the Denburg piece with something coming out of a Fisher Price toy, automated or perhaps preset for sounds / voices to be pumped out when you push a particular button.  And so we heard the cutesy voice from the Fisher Price.  And WOW you couldn’t script it better, when the toddler sitting in front of me ANSWERED, because the magic of that toy spoke to him or her.  The entire audience was galvanized by the experience, which takes the entire thing to its most existential level.  But this dialogue between organic and artificial sums up the entire night, if not the album as well, on a fascinating interface. Yes there was some of the post-modern edginess of sampling but if this was angry hip-hop it was the crankiness of someone needing their diaper changed. In other words we were in a very safe and self-aware place.

Denburg’s piece is a kind of meditative conversation between the instruments playing a bit like robots –in the sense of Rossini rather than sci-fi, retro music constructed into fast runs with a kind of comical Barber of Seville frenetic- mechanical flavor. [spoiler alert] We get a whimsical bit of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, counter-intuitively in the wrong key just to be even wackier.  Music is coming out of the instruments, and it’s not clear who is in charge, between the Fisher Price and the six players, who seem to be automated or robotic even as the whole thing is very playful and fun. I recall the magic in this very same space not so long ago (2014 as it turns out), when Tapestry gave us one of their workshops of incomplete works, in this case a bit of Nicole Lizée’s masterful adaptation (five minutes worth) from Capek’s R.U.R., the famous play that gave the world the word “robot”.  Both then and now, I feel that double-edged magic, that we are seduced by the automated music even as we are terrorized by the implications.

The next piece, by Fiona Ryan, also explored that threshold between the musical player and the more organic sound, this time from the realm of birdcalls generated artificially.  I am always grateful when “new music” finds a new way to explore realms that are genuinely beautiful, or to articulate a new kind of beauty.  When a flute seems to converse with one of those mechanical birdcalls, we’re in a funny area, perhaps a parody of one of those romantic virtuoso cadenzas such as you find in Norma or Lucia where the singer and an instrumentalist imitate one another, sounding a bit like birdsong, but mostly like a cadenza in a concert.  The discursive space this opens up is wonderfully thorny, as we may wonder just what this music really is, as far as its origin.

After the intermission – with lots more carousing, drinking and good cheer—we resumed with two more pieces.

clangor takes us to the interface of mimesis, where we are listening to sounds in a toy piano of all things, being juxtaposed with bicycle bells, and the lovely fading of those haunting sounds. While no one says anything is being imitated –as with the previous piece—I can’t help reading something into the sounds that resemble one another, close together in the composition, as though they’re voices learning from each other or perhaps even in conversation.   Again this is music for the investigation from first principles: as though one were a child.  And if we’re lucky that’s how we are able to hear.

And Walking is a powerfully virtuosic work, especially challenging for Daniel Morphy, the percussionist.  If I hadn’t seen it played live I would have wondered, but he was crisp & accurate throughout, bringing the audience to their feet for the biggest ovation of the night, admittedly for a work that challenged the entire ensemble as well
(The personnel from the CD: Pratik Gandhi, conductor, Tim Crouch, flute, Anthony Thomas, clarinets, Wesley Shen, piano/toy piano, Adam Scime, double bass.
Last night though,  special guests Stephanie Chua playing piano/toy piano/bicycle bells, and Suhashini Arulanandam on violin.).

As a bit of magic we heard an encore performance of the FISHER PRICE.

And so we heard four of the seven pieces on the CD (that was not only launched tonight but given to everyone who paid to get in).  I’ll give it a listen and tell you more in due course, particularly once I figure out how you can also buy a copy of the CD (that I received as part of my admission to the concert).

[to buy the CD try this link]

Album_Art_FINAL

Posted in Music and musicology, Reviews | 2 Comments

TSO and Walton’s Decade

Posted on June 4, 2017 by barczablog

I can’t be the only one who made the connection, watching the Toronto Symphony tonight at Roy Thomson Hall.   It felt like a special concert.

Sir Andrew Davis was just announced this week as the TSO’s interim Artistic Director for the two seasons following the conclusion of Peter Oundjian’s tenure (while they search for his successor).  Is it just a coincidence that tonight’s program included one of the works used to christen the new Roy Thomson Hall back in 1982, under a much younger Andrew Davis?  Of course William Walton’s Belshazzar’s Feast is larger than life, so no matter what’s happening at the time, there will be a sense of celebration in the air.  The programming was made weeks ago but I can’t help wondering, did they already have this planned?  Davis once again –just like the concert last week—seems very much in command, the TSO seeming as responsive as a sports car with brand new tires on a dry road.  And I am sure Davis had a much better time of it in 2017 than in the launch three and a half decades ago, after the renovations addressing the acoustical weaknesses of RTH.  Even if it’s just a coincidence, there was a genuinely festive mood to the concert, and they didn’t disappoint us.

davis

Sir Andrew Davis (Photo: Jaime Hogge)

And speaking of decades, this was another of the concerts in the “Decades Project”, this one highlighting the decade of the 1930s.  Had I encountered this program three or more decades ago, I would have had a very different response than I did tonight, hearing music by Paul Hindemith, Alban Berg and William Walton.  At one time Hindemith & Berg seemed to be the future of music, while Walton would seem to be a stretch, as an exemplar of his decade.  Yet from the perspective of 2017, Walton seems every bit as influential: when you factor in film music.  Belshazzar’s Feast reminds me of a Bernstein, maybe a wee bit of Leonard but a whole lot of Elmer, thinking of film-scores such as The Ten Commandments or even The Magnificent Seven.  No there’s no logical reason why this Biblical cantata should resemble a film about bandits and gun-fighters, but Walton’s syncopated brassy sound has me thinking of Marlborough country, a sound heard in cinemas worldwide, and likely by far more people than have ever heard either Hindemith or Berg.

The TSO were joined by two choirs, namely the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and the Huddersfield Choral Society, as well as baritone soloist Alexander Dobson.  Davis seemed to have a whale of a time leading the choirs and the TSO through this work with Biblical sources, that contains almost no spirituality that I could detect.  In this respect Walton’s score is true to his time, seemingly more intent on effects than in making a genuine connection with the religious meaning of the text.  I can’t help being reminded of the Pandemonium scene from Damnation de Faust, where Berlioz imitates what the minions of hell might sound like, when Walton gives us the rites of the Babylonians, plus a very lurid response from God, worthy of Cecil B Demille.  But if we cut Walton some slack –and let the orchestra have some fun playing this score—it’s an amazing thrill ride, ear candy if ever there was such a thing.  And thank you Andrew Davis for taking us along.

The first half of the concert was the more seriously musicological visit to the 1930s, a pair of contrasting works,  Hindemith’s Concert Music for Brass and Strings and Berg’s Violin Concerto.

I never understood why Hindemith didn’t catch on, a composer who always excites me with his command of orchestral colour and intriguing way of making old ideas new.  Concert Music for Brass and Strings is a playful exploration of sound that gave Davis reason to stretch a dozen brass players in an arc across the back third of the stage, sometimes barking sometimes snarling, always impressive, with roughly forty string players clustered at the front as if in refuge.  Hindemith always sounds to me like the sort of composer you would use to show off a sound system or to test a new concert hall, not unlike Belshazzar’s Feast, and Davis seemed to hold nothing back in putting them through their paces.

In sharp contrast to the Dionysian impulses in the Hindemith, Jonathan Crow unpacked the sweetest subtleties as soloist in Berg’s violin concerto.  Davis allowed details to be heard, restraining the orchestra for the most part while giving Crow space to play gently, in an interpretation sounding at times like chamber music for its delicacy.

 

Posted in Cinema, video & DVDs, Music and musicology, Reviews | 2 Comments

Christopher Cameron: Dr Bartolo’s Umbrella

Posted on June 3, 2017 by barczablog

This one is different. I’ve encountered memoirs written by artists I’ve respected from afar often created with the help of a ghost-writer.

But Chris Cameron’s Dr Bartolo’s Umbrella and Other Tales from my Surprising Operatic Life, perhaps a bit like Chris Cameron himself, doesn’t conform to usual expectations. Dr.-Bartolos-Umbrella-Cover-rev2

This is not the story of a big star, at least not if you believe the humble words of Mr Cameron.  One of the most refreshing things about this book is the absence of a self-congratulatory tone, replaced by a nuts and bolts approach.

No this is not a triumphalist account painted in primary colours.  We’re in a world of real people, presented warts & all.  The author is front and centre without pretense, a likable fellow telling a fascinating story– his own — while commenting on the business.

The devout followers of Canadian opera likely would undertake reading this book even if it weren’t wonderful, insightful, fun, and well-written.  But this is not a ghost-written book where the author is barely discernible.  I don’t think we usually talk about the writing ability displayed by an opera singer, especially when there are great ghost writers around (although sadly dear Donald Arthur –who co-wrote memoirs of Astrid Varnay, Hans Hotter, Lotfi Mansouri & James King—has passed away).  I inhaled this book, partly because I was interested in the material, mostly because it flows.

As a memoir of someone close to my age if not quite contemporary, I recognize many of the names he mentions.  Yes there are other memoirs of this period – for instance two that I’ve reviewed here, Lotfi Mansouri: An Operatic Journey & Stuart Hamilton’s Opening Windows—but they are of an older generation.  Cameron is still relatively young even if he no longer sings.

It needs to be said that Cameron can write.  Oh sure, the other books are readable. But Cameron is not just recounting a series of anecdotes, not just taking us through his resume.  We’re hearing an account of a life, with a consistent & original philosophy, punctuated by some edgy commentary.  But let me put it out there, that Chris Cameron is a good writer with lots to say above and beyond recounting his life-story.  I flew through the book, breathless to be reminded of so many familiar names & scenes.

ChrisCameronPhoto-268x300

Singer & author Christopher Cameron

And Cameron is full of lessons for any artist.  But you won’t be hearing anything that sounds like the career advice of a brown-noser. Cameron boldly goes where no singer has gone before, as far as I can recall, even if he has good things to say about everyone.  I love when he’s reporting his nervous internal monologue while freaking out in sheer terror of the challenging first notes he’d sing as bass soloist in Beethoven’s 9th Symphony.  I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say that I laughed out loud.  There and elsewhere, this is a fun book from an affable artist without bitterness, yet still more than a little bemusement at what a strange world we live in.  Cameron is a frequent observer of the absurdity of the business, especially the Canadian version.

I would recommend Dr Bartolo’s Umbrella to the young singers I know who are considering a career, even if the world he describes has largely vanished.  A question I keep asking myself is whether one can still have a career in opera.  Oh sure, if you have a magnificent voice, fine.  But what if you’re not very tall, and always cast as the old man even in your mid-20s?  We go through many fascinating stages in his career, including the poignant moments towards the end when he recognizes he has had enough.  His simple eloquence will surely speak to anyone who has ever performed.

In passing Cameron is writing a history of the musical scene, reminding us of the Festival Singers, the beginning of Ontario Place, of Tapestry (before they started doing modern opera), the early days of the Ensemble Studio under Lotfi Mansouri, encounters with Seiji Ozawa, Andrew Davis, Ben Heppner, Elmer Iseler, James Craig plus many more artists both well-known and obscure.  Being a crazy opera nerd I devoured it without any signs of indigestion.

I believe Dr Bartolo’s Umbrella could be a fun first look into the world of opera & classical music for those who don’t know anything about opera, educational without being solemn or academic. There’s a welcome absence of technical jargon, and a directness that makes for a fun read.  It’s a pleasure to encounter something in the language of a real person, an artist without a phony bone in his body.

And if you know some of the names, so much the better.

Posted in Books & Literature, Opera, Reviews | 2 Comments

TSO: Sir Andrew Davis to be interim Artistic Director, Peter Oundjian Conductor Emeritus

Posted on May 31, 2017 by barczablog
davis

Sir Andrew Davis (Photo: Jaime Hogge)

May 31, 2017: The Toronto Symphony Orchestra (TSO) announces today that Sir Andrew Davis will act as Interim Artistic Director for two seasons following the conclusion of Peter Oundjian’s 14-year tenure as Music Director at the end of the 2017/18 season. Maestro Davis will provide artistic leadership through to the middle of 2020, when the TSO anticipates that a new permanent Music Director will be in place.

Gary Hanson, Interim Chief Executive Officer of the TSO, comments, “As our Music Director Search Committee completes its work, we are grateful that Sir Andrew will step in to provide artistic leadership, just as he did in 2001 when our search for a Music Director led us to Peter Oundjian.”

The TSO’s process to name a successor to Peter Oundjian as Music Director began in 2016. The confidential search is being conducted by a committee composed of TSO musicians, members of the Board of Directors, and senior management representatives. The Committee is chaired by TSO Board member Tom Smee, who notes, “Our Committee is rigorously reviewing the qualifications and potential of many highly qualified prospective Music Directors, most of whom would be familiar to Toronto audiences as recent and forthcoming guest conductors.”

Sir Andrew Davis has had a 44-year relationship with the TSO including 13 years as the Orchestra’s Music Director, from 1975 to 1988. Maestro Davis will open the 2018/19 season and will return to the TSO stage for five weeks in each of the two seasons. “I love being part of the TSO family. My years here have been some of the happiest in my career, and I am deeply honoured to be asked to serve the Orchestra during this transition,” adds Sir Andrew Davis.

In the month of June this season, Sir Andrew Davis will take the podium to conduct Belshazzar’s Feast on June 2 and 3. The biblical oratorio by Sir William Walton depicts the liberation of the Hebrew slaves from captivity in Babylon. Canadian baritone Alexander Dobson takes centre stage, and is joined by the 200 voices of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and Huddersfield Choral Society combined. Music by Hindemith and Berg’s Violin Concerto—featuring TSO Concertmaster Jonathan Crow—round out the program. Belshazzar’s Feast is part of the final instalment of The Decades Project.Peter Oundjian named Conductor Emeritus of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra

*******

May 31, 2017: The Toronto Symphony Orchestra (TSO) is pleased to announce that Peter Oundjian will be honoured with the title of Conductor Emeritus when he completes his tenure as Music Director of the TSO at the end of the 2017/18 season.

By then, Peter Oundjian will have served in the role of Music Director for 14 seasons, the second longest tenure in the TSO’s history, surpassed only by Sir Ernest MacMillan, who was at the helm of the TSO for 25 seasons. Beginning with the 2019/20 season, Mr. Oundjian will return for a number of annual engagements, conducting the TSO at Roy Thomson Hall as part of the flagship Masterworks series.

Oundjian’s drive and devotion to the TSO have yielded extraordinary accomplishments. “Peter has brought the Toronto Symphony Orchestra to new and diverse audiences and has put his seal on the refined and wonderful sound that we hear from the Orchestra today. His contribution and commitment will continue to be a great benefit to all of us,” said Cathy Beck, Chair of the TSO Board of Directors. Gary Hanson, Interim Chief Executive Officer of the TSO adds, “Peter has built a lasting legacy, including, without doubt, his success in attracting and selecting the very finest players from a global talent pool.”

Over the course of his tenure, Oundjian has selected more than half of the current musicians of the Orchestra. Moreover, he has selected two-thirds of the principal players, including Concertmaster Jonathan Crow.

The announcement of Peter Oundjian’s honorary title, in recognition of his contributions to the TSO, comes as the institution proceeds in its selection process to name a successor to Oundjian as Music Director. The confidential search, which began in 2016, is being conducted by a Search Committee composed of TSO musicians, members of the Board of Directors, and senior management representatives. The Committee, chaired by Board member Tom Smee, is on track to conclude its work in 2018.

Peter Oundjian conducts the TSO at Roy Thomson Hall

Text is taken from press releases

Posted in Music and musicology, Press Releases and Announcements | 1 Comment

TSO: back in Toronto, eh?

Posted on May 28, 2017 by barczablog

After an exciting tour to Israel and Europe, the Toronto Symphony are back in Canada.

“Back in Toronto eh” could just as easily be “back in Toronto A” given what we heard tonight, a program consisting of a pair of works in A. They’re back home geographically and back home to the same note you always hear when an orchestra tunes up, whether it’s plunked out on the piano –as it was for the piano concerto—or intoned by an oboe, as is more usual.

The orchestra were led in the concerts over the past two nights by their conductor laureate, Sir Andrew Davis, an avuncular figure whose familiar presence on the podium has been a steadying hand on the tiller, a constant for audiences & players alike.

Sir Andrew Davis_2 (@Jag Gundu)

The Toronto Symphony, led by Sir Andrew Davis (photo: Jag Gundu)

And so the TSO are home: and welcome back.

The two pieces on the program showed us two different approaches from both Davis & the TSO even if the pieces aren’t so very different. Excuse me if I make too much of the contrast, when both pieces were delightful. But I was struck by how professional Davis was and is, how well he adjusted the orchestra to the different requirements in a concerto with a romantic virtuoso and a symphony played in a classical style.

We began with Grieg’s A minor concerto, played by Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. This was a reading in the romantic tradition, tempi entirely at the discretion of the soloist, and the orchestra following his every tempo change like Ginger Rogers dancing backwards in high-heels, always keeping up with Fred (or Jean-Efflam).

I merely meant by that comparison that they followed with amazing precision, and no slips.

Bavouzet’s touch emphasizes melodic lines, a wonderful ability to bring out voices and to thereby underline what Grieg was doing in his concerto. It’s always a thrill when a performance lays bare the composer’s structure, showing us the inherent drama in the score.  Davis followed diligently, helping to bring out the big moments such as the 2nd movement horn solos, as clearly—and in a kind of dialogue—as those of Bavouzet from the piano keyboard.

And so I wondered if Davis would conduct the Beethoven the same way, given that I’ve heard conductors bring out the romantic side, especially for a flamboyant work such as the Symphony #7 in A. By romantic, I mean for example, to play up the contrasts – as they did in the concerto—and to play fast and loose with tempo.

Beethoven isn’t that many decades away from Grieg, especially when I recall the way some people (for instance Leon Fleisher with George Szell & the Cleveland Orchestra, the recording of the Grieg + the Schumann concerti that I knew best) hewed closer to the classical rather than the romantic tradition, seeking to honour tempi, only making small rubati and avoiding the big crowd pleaser of a finish that you sometimes encounter.

But no, Davis and the TSO gave us something quite different when it came to the Beethoven. This was a performance with a different aesthetic, a kind of integrity. All repeats were honoured, and long passages building up were permitted to be inexorable and gradual rather than mistaking Beethoven for Tchaikovsky and suddenly speeding up for the big finish. This more painstaking approach to the long passages – both in the second movement, the scherzo and the finale made the drama authentic, which is to say, true to Beethoven.

The orchestra seem very relaxed, and in a wonderful groove, playing everything really well, sounding fabulous. I’m so glad they’re back.

Posted in Music and musicology, Reviews | 1 Comment

Bad Jews: laughter and tears

Posted on May 27, 2017 by barczablog

Tonight I was held captive by the eruptions of emotion in Joshua Harmon’s 2012 comedy Bad Jews, receiving its Canadian premiere production at the Small World Music Centre, in the Koffler Centre for the Arts, directed by Michèle Lonsdale-Smith.

Yes there are lots of laughs, but I can’t help remembering Robin Williams, the avatar of comedy made out of sadness. Happy people do not create comedy. Why are there so many great black and Jewish comedians if not because of their expertise in handling and articulating pain?

BadJewsToronto-photobyDahliaKatz-Koffler-1

Daphna (Rebecca Applebaum, left), Liam (Kristopher Turner) and Jonah (Daniel Krantz) Photo: Dahlia Katz

We meet Jonah and Liam, two brothers who have lost their grandfather, a holocaust survivor. Daphna is their cousin, and Melody is Liam’s Gentile girlfriend. In the immediate painful aftermath of the death, each of the three Jews struggles with their grandfather’s legacy, including one who would marry the cute blonde girl who isn’t Jewish, each seeming to assert that theirs is the most authentic way to live as his successor. While that may sound serious it’s the framework for painful laughter in the conflicting value-systems, the accusations and insults hurled at one another from a place of truth and authenticity.

I can’t help wondering how the four cast members held it together in the tiny Koffler Centre space, so serious, even when I was guffawing just a couple of feet away.

Rebecca Applebaum (Daphna), Daniel Krantz (Jonah), Kristopher Turner (Liam) and Julia Vally (Melody) pitched their voices without ever sounding like actors, without ever using voices that sounded trained or loud, no artificiality, no reminders of acting technique interfering with the perfect illusion.  And it helps that the writing is so fluid, the dialogue so truly human. We were in a living room surrounded by these embarrassingly exposed people from the first moment to the last. It was so real!  I even saw some private anatomical parts, shown inadvertently of course. They may have seemed uncomfortable with one another, thrown together as they were: but they never seemed to mind this audience of voyeurs staring at them with such indecent intimacy, let alone when we laughed at or with them.

It must be very hard for the actors not to giggle when surrounded by a laughing mob, aka the audience.

Applebaum was a driving force for the production. I heard that she was eager to play the quirky Daphna, the self-appointed custodian of Jewish tradition in this family. It’s fun watching the inevitable conflict with her agnostic cousin Liam, a slow motion train-wreck of a cultural  clash. Liam’s claim on the cultural hardware—their grandfather’s chai, treated as sacred by Daphna because he carried it through the holocaust–is pragmatic rather than religious. Jonah and Melody are mostly observers of the big debate, and at times seem likely to end up as collateral damage in the all-out warfare that ensues.

It’s so real, so true to family dynamics. The volume in the small theatre gradually ramps up as the passions are laid bare. But it’s totally real, and hysterically funny, even if I was surprised by tears a couple of times.

I feel sensitized to this kind of comedy from having watched a very funny film last night about a Jewish comedian, leading me to wonder about the nature of comedy. Anger and sadness are central to the film, and again it’s true for Bad Jews. Our own sadness leads us to recognize the universality of these situations, to see ourselves and/or our families up there on stage.  And of course that’s why we were howling with laughter.

Bad Jews continues until June 4th at the Koffler Centre of the Arts. See it if you can.

BadJews_900x500_FINAL_rev

Posted in Dance, theatre & musicals, Reviews | Leave a comment

The Comedian: Jews, good and bad

Posted on May 26, 2017 by barczablog

Sometimes the stars align, and guarantee that things will fail.

Stars do that? Hm, Shakespeare did say something, that the fault, dear reader, is not in our stars. I don’t think he was talking about casting, no not that sort of star. He meant more like Mercury retrograde or whatever astrology does to ensure you get bad reviews.

And why do some films do so well if not some planetary push? But truly I feel lucky, that the stars –meaning celestial influence– are making miracles.

The timing of the film I saw tonight is serendipitous, thank you stars (both the kind from the sky or from Hollywood).

  • I saw a commencement address by Helen Mirren shared on Facebook today. She refers to “Taylor” a couple of times, and I wondered who she meant. It’s her husband of course, Taylor Hackford, who’s directed some wonderful films (An Officer and a Gentleman, White Nights, and Ray for example).

  • I’m seeing the opening of Bad Jews tomorrow, a comedy about family dynamics and you guessed it, the family is JewishBadJews_900x500_FINAL_rev
  • After a glass of wine I noticed a video sitting beside the TV that my wife purchased namely The Comedian
  • And lo and behold I noticed that the director was none other than Taylor Hackford
  • And as I started to watch it, I discover that the comedian–played by Robert de Niro– is supposed to be Jewish.

Surprise surprise! A film about comedy featuring Jewish family dynamics.   Not only does tonight’s film feel like a perfect prelude to the play tomorrow, it also happens to be the most enjoyable film I’ve seen in ages.

But why haven’t I heard about The Comedian?  What happened? When I look at the internet I see that it opened in December of 2016 to bad reviews, and so it vanished without a trace. And yet on the small screen in my house this was a film that I need to watch again: because we missed lots of jokes due to our uncontrollable laughter. When I think of the funniest films I have ever seen, they also hit me that way. For example The Producers or Superbad required multiple viewings because the laughter was so loud as to cover some lines that couldn’t be heard the first time. Even on the second or third viewing there were big laughs.

The Comedian is several things, and they’re all good.

It’s a film with a jazz score by Terence Blanchard. If you hate the film you can still listen to it.

It’s a film with moody cinematography that transports you instantly to its locations. I don’t know how they did it, seguing from one place to another with an exterior shot to evoke the sensations and feelings of distinct parts of New York, or of places in Florida that I can’t claim to know.

It’s a film with a very good cast.

Robert de Niro plays a Jewish comedian, Danny de Vito plays his brother, Harvey Keitel plays a mobster, Leslie Mann plays the mobster’s daughter. Can you say “playing against type”? De Niro and de Vito play Jews, while Keitel –who is Jewish by birth at least—plays an Italian.

If I were to attempt to describe the type Leslie Mann usually plays it would be as a sweet-voiced appeaser, someone who is always apologizing in that whiny voice. But she meets de Niro’s comedian while doing community service, as both of them are in anger management.

And there are other wonderful cameos, such as Cloris Leachman, Billy Crystal, Charles Grodin, and Patti Lupone just to name the first ones that come to mind.

Everybody in this film is nuts, which is another way of saying, the story and the situations are totally relatable, lovable, enjoyable. If you’re not laughing you need to check for a pulse.

But when I watch the trailer I see immediately how it could have shot itself in the foot. The joke you get right off the bat in the trailer between Jackie (De Niro) and his brother Jimmy (De Vito) sounds offensive out of context.  See for yourself,  when Jimmy says his child is getting married and Jackie says “I thought she was a dyke” and Jimmy corrects him,  “you say ‘lesbian!'” No wonder no one came to see a film sounding so bigoted and ugly.

Yes it is abrasive. But the trailer gives you none of the good –the brilliant humour– just an immediate impression of negativity.  Yes there is anger in this film but there is also brilliant wit and catharsis.

It’s a thrill to discover a movie that seems to be flying under the radar, that deserves another chance. I hope the word gets out on this one, because it’s not just okay, it’s one of the funniest films I’ve seen in a very long time.

It’s a natural preparation for the play I’m seeing tomorrow.

Posted in Cinema, video & DVDs | Leave a comment

Oksana G review

Posted on May 25, 2017 by barczablog

Tonight was the world premiere of Tapestry Opera’s Oksana G¸ a new full-length opera with music by Aaron Gervais and libretto by Colleen Murphy, stage direction by Tom Diamond and music direction by Jordan de Souza.

As an event promoted by the Indie Opera Network of eleven companies, it’s worth noting that this is the most genuinely operatic production yet seen from the network. There were none of the usual shortcuts such as presenting a song-cycle as though it were an opera, presenting an opera in concert or with piano or semi-staged. Oksana G is a substantial work, over two hours in length not including the intermission, a work with a small orchestra and chorus.

And Gervais & Murphy answered the most blunt challenges Tapestry artistic director Michael Mori might have posed with flying colours. Is it opera, and does the music really add anything to the story? Yes and yes.

I was braced for something unpleasant when I read that Oksana G would be an opera about human trafficking. I wondered if the opera might exploit its topic, and so I cringed a bit in anticipation. But I was wrong to worry. Murphy’s libretto gets inside the lives of the protagonists. Yes we see lurid scenes. But we’re given a compassionate exploration of this seedy world, never losing touch with their humanity, their desperation to escape, and their shame, even as they fear the judgment of their parents. And we listen to the parents missing their children. If nothing else it’s an excellent opportunity to lose your preconceptions.

OksanaGPromoShoot_HeatherKilner_2

Natalya Gennadi (photo: Heather Kilner)

Natalya Gennadi is Oksana, a young Ukrainian lured into a nasty world from which she struggles to escape. If there’s an operatic prototype, think of Gilda who is abducted by the Duke’s courtiers in Rigoletto, but unable to escape from the shameful life into which she has been pressed. I am mindful of Gilda because she too is essentially a victim, unable to break free of the role imposed upon her. One of the huge challenges in this sort of story is the lack of agency of the heroine, making the story very much like a classic melodrama, where everything seems to be beyond her control, and an antagonist like this one inevitably becomes a villain in our eyes.  In La traviata, too, there is some of the same melodrama, so this is familiar territory in opera.  Her part was originally announced for Ambur Braid, leaving me to wonder what the opera would have been like with her instead of Gennadi. But even with the short notice – the casting change only having been announced in the winter—this part that calls for singing in Ukrainian, Russian as well as English fits Gennadi remarkably well, a Ukrainian speaker who also coaches singers in Russian.

sillhouette

Natalya Gennadi and  shadow that might be Keith Klassen (photo: Heather Kilner)

Keith Klassen is Oksana’s chief antagonist, Konstantin, whom Murphy seeks to sketch as a complex character, an obsessive human trafficker who sometimes seems to believe his own sleazy pickup lines, a Slavic cross between Don Giovanni, and Sparafucile (the hit man in Rigoletto). I can’t decide if I’m missing something, in seeing the story as ultimately formulaic, especially in the way the last scenes unfold (which I won’t spoil for you), captive of that melodramatic impulse. But Klassen was a powerful presence, using his voice and physique to great advantage. I think this is the best thing I’ve ever seen him do.

Jacqueline Woodley’s powerful voice made a huge impression in the role of Natalia, a friend of Oksana’s. Similarly Kristina Szábo as Sofiya – Oksana’s mother—anchors every scene in which she appears, the most authentic person onstage musically and dramatically. Adam Fisher is very sympathetic as Father Alexander.

Jordan de Souza ran a tightly organized show, at least as far as I could tell. With a new score one wants to reconcile the input of the creators, with the interpretation of the performers. In a score such as this one – largely tonal, and only rarely so virtuosic as to push singers out of their comfort zone—I think I can say with confidence that the performance does justice to the opera, that the composer & librettist were well served by the singers, orchestra and chorus. Gervais’ arioso reminded me at times of Leos Janacek, employing a broadly melodic style full of repeating patterns in the orchestra. There was one scene that was for me the most magical part of the score, when we found ourselves in a bar, where there seemed to be background music coming from a diegetic band onstage playing a sort of Eurotrash disco. The arioso of the characters onstage emerged from that rock-ish texture. I wish more composers would attempt this! Christos Hatzis does something like this in a bar-scene in Going Home Star¸his Juno award-winning ballet. Modern music needs to connect to the musical vernacular, aka the music most people listen to in their normal lives. For a few minutes Gervais made a brilliant connection, and you could feel the electricity in the room.

Oksana G continues at the Imperial Oil Opera theatre until May 30th.

Posted in Opera, Reviews | 2 Comments