New music telling an old story

I have hesitated to write this post. Not because of anything wrong with the show, far from it. But simply because, this was the first time I have heard two friends who I have known on line for more years than I care to remember, two friends I love and respect, and I struggled to work out how to show them the respect and love due them and their performances, and yet not give the impression of being totally uncritical.

So, first of all, the story was Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte's tale of love, passion and redemption, in a new setting with words by Diane Olsen and a score by Louis Karchin, a new composer for me. His music fits within a very traditional framework, with clearly designated arias and recits, ensembles and the like. This is not a criticism by any means, giving us the familiar on which is built something new, is a long proven technique, and one I endorse.  His music is tonal and accessible, creating a very atmospheric sound world with his small orchestral forces (a scratch band of about 30). As you all know, Jane Eyre is a story of gothic creepiness and Karchin's orchestration clearly came from the world of creepy movie music, with added textures from harp and xylophone/marimba. The closest comparison I can think of, would be possibly a Peter Sculthorp score, mixed with Korngold. It is a score I would love to hear again in the future, with a well rehearsed full pit orchestra, as it really was quite glorious in parts, but there were times when the orchestra lacked precision in their ensemble, more I suspect from a lack of rehearsals together than anything else. Playing modern music is always fraught with traps for musicians, and I suspect there were times more rehearsal would have tightened everything from the pit.

Having said that, the conducting of Sara Jobin looked from behind a model of clarity, giving a clear beat that was easily visible to both stage and orchestra (and those towards the from of the audience), that meant the singers and orchestra were never in danger of losing each other, despite the challenges of the score.

Kristine McIntyre's production (with set and video by Luke Cantarella) was a well thought out solution to a plot that requires frequent scene changes, most simply requiring a change of chairs/tables, etc, with the projections on stage clearly creating the rest. Theses were so effective,  that running late when we arrived, we thought the staging was a complex set to show two rooms in Thornfield, the Rochester house. It was only with the scene change we realized this was all projection on blank walls.

McIntyre worked hard to bring the characters to life, Jane's nervous shrinking violet who gradually comes out of her shell, Rochester's scarred soul desperately trying to build some happiness for himself, Mrs Fairfax, the Rivers in their eccentricity, all came through as solid characters. And, unlike another production I saw in NYC, we never had to suspend belief that characters could not see each other, despite clearly being in view of each other.

So, voices you say? Well, first of all, this production proved that singing in English is actually quite challenging for some. Providing clear diction, while projecting over an orchestra is almost impossible for some, while for others, it proved easy. Both Kimberly Giordano (Fairfax) and Ryan MacPherson (Rochester) (both of whom I knew previously) were thankfully both models for clarity and understanding. I did feel that deciding to set Rochester as a tenor might not be the most appropriate choice for the composer, but Ryan brought out the tortured soul well, giving him depth and strength, as well as portraying a character we wanted to livke, and see happy.

Kimberly brought life to Mrs Fairfax, making her flesh and blood, not just a character there for others to engage with. She was a part of the fabric of the household and clearly cared for the inhabitants in it. Her acting, coupled with her ability to make every word clear while maintaining a solid vocal line meant she was more important to driving the story forward than the size of her role might suggest.

As Jane Eyre, Jennifer Zetlan looked and acted the part with aplomb. Her words may not have been as clear as others, but, she was also dealing with what sounded like quite challenging vocal writing, so, the amount of words that were clear, was certainly a credit also. Her role is of course also far and away the longest, and she never flagged or showed signs of tiring, just focused and in character while pouring her heart out in long lines of music that covered her whole range.

Other characters were performed with aplomb, but really, this is a score that revolves around these three characters, with others getting featured, but only for a brief portion. There was a small ensemble of women who featured as Jane's pupils for the scene in the school, who also assisted with moving furniture on stage in the Thornfield scenes in costume as servants, usually with Mrs Fairfax in character, ordering them around.

So, to sum up, this is an opera that I would like to see again, that would work in a standard opera company's season. It is not one to scare the horses. And, it also is a story that is well known, even if much abridged in its telling. In this shortened form, it certainly stands up as a great night at the theatre.

Swiss Patriots

Right, so for my first Met visit I lucked into a good one. A well cast and sung opera I did not know well, or how it ended, in a serviceable production I'm going to call it. The things that were needed were there, there a few gimmicks, but nothing that took    away from telling the story. And a number of items that with thought may end up being quite telling to the director's thoughts on the opera.

First though, how good is it to be in a theatre where the sound does not turn to mush. After the clarity of the overture onward, going back to the sound of the orchestra pit at Sydney Opera House will be something I won't relish. 

The new production is the one mounted by the Dutch National Opera, by Pierre Audi, who clearly had a good handle on the characters and story, nothing jumped out as out of character, even if a couple of the characters do seem 1 dimensional. Why is Gesler such a cartoon style villain? The libretto does not tell us, and it seems just accepted that he is the evil vicious governor on behalf of the Austrians, with no indication that anyone else objects. Until Mathilde decides to stand up and use her imperial rank to overrule him over Tell's son 

So, to the singers. There was a big cast in WT, and all of then were clearly audible, despite being in the balcony, a considerable distance for voices to carry. As Tell, we had Gerald Finley, bringing both flexibility of tone and dignity to the role. It's a long role, and he never showed signs of flagging, as he portrayed the famous hero of the piece. This was a role that showed why he is one of the most sought after singers in the world today, it was a remarkable performance. Why he was dressed like a Jedi master, I am not sure.

As the tortured and lovelorn second hero Arnold, we had Bryan Hymel, bringing all his power and high notes, and considerable flexibility to this role. If Tell was the soul of the piece, Arnold was the heart, torn between family and homeland, and the imperial Mathilde, who he met in the past, who returns his love. Loving the enemy never ends well, in these things, and this couple provides much of the complications.

The princess herself was sung by Marina Rebeka, bringing a highly flexible, focused, if somewhat hard sound to her florid writing, but that bloomed wonderfully into a big lush sound in her more lyrical moments. Her costumes seemed variations on Victorian era riding habits, changing from black to white as she begins to distance herself from Gesler and his regime. 

The evil Gesler was played by John Relyea, being loud and obnoxious, as he is well capable. It's not a voice you expect in Rossini, but then, it is not written full of his usual complex flexible vocal lines, this is more Verdi-style villain writing, which he clearly enjoyed. 

I keep mentioning things as being unlike Rossini's normal style, and indeed, at times it did not feel like Rossini. The final chorus especially, has moments where you think, Rossini wrote this? It sounds 20th century. Other times, it is very clear, this is the same composer who wrote the Barber of Seville. The long well known overture is clearly his, with its long crescendi and strident calls to arms. Yet, the same composer writes proto-20 century music to end the night? It all seems a little unexpected. What isn't unexpected is Rossini's need of a good editor. This is NOT a short opera, and frequently the same music and words are repeated over, thus, there are times when it seems what would be a whole aria, but is only part in Rossini's world, is repeated, just to emphasis how lovely it was, and how heartbroken/eager to fight/in love they really are. A ruthless editor could easily chop 1/10 from the piece I think, if the repeats were killed. But, then, this was a French grand opera, where nothing is short. 

Speaking of French grand opera, the big ballet scene in Act 3 was handled very well, it helped to build the antagonism between the Swiss and the Austrians, demonstrating their heartlessness towards them. It was also one of those situations where the chorus has to take part (always fraught), but thankfully their dance part was fairly simple in a large complex scene. But pity the chorus who had to go from singing to dancing energetically to singing... 

So, all round a great night. Lots of great singing, a chance to see a piece I am never likely to see mounted in Sydney. And a rollicking good story, even if it took far longer to tell, than it needed to. 

Because I needed to say it

It was 1983 or there about when I got Bowie by seeing him on Countdown. I have no recollection of seeing/hearing him before (but I must of) but there he was on my TV in the video for Let’s Dance.

Suddenly, I got it. Here was this big star who was unashamedly different. Who, as I discovered later, was at the time, in his most normal phase he had been in. At that stage, I was a teen-ager trying to find myself, still very much in the shadow of my big brother who had always seemed a larger than life character, and who I was always compared to at school (the fate of younger siblings in country schools, the world over I suspect)

Seeing him, living his life out loud and proud, flamboyant as all hell, and not giving a damn, helped me, a young confused guy struggling to make sense of a world at around 14-15, to see that ultimately what others thought did not matter, living live on your terms was all that mattered. And that if you did, it was possible to be hugely successful. (It took a while to realise that you also have to have big talent and work insanely hard, which, yeah, that was never going to happen)

So, years later, David Bowie has died. Since I first “got him” I can honestly say his music has always been in my life somehow. I’ve not been the biggest fan, or gone and bought all his albums (I can remember buying 3, - a greatest hits, Let’s Dance, and Tonight, which says more about where my headspace was at the time, than the brilliance or otherwise of any of his albums) but his music has remained with me, thoughtful, full of words of surprising depths of emotional realness, that helped those of us who never really felt a part of the mainstream, feel like we were not alone. And, of course, also full of musical adventures that satisfied the classical musician in me. It has taken his death to really drive home, just how much he had meant to me.

So, goodbye you glorious chameleon of a man. May you remain a inspiration for us all.

So, go out, be adventurous, be true to yourself, and make lots of art. Some of it will be great art.