Guest Review: Wagner and Me

Wagner and Me, with Stephen Fry

Cinema Nova

2 March 2011

cinemanova.com.au

Review by Josephine Giles

Stephen Fry is a rightly celebrated performer who manages to combine light entertainment with his unabashed celebration of intelligence and his insatiable curiosity.  Until I saw this documentary, I felt I couldn’t get enough of the man. However, in Wagner and Me, the dominance of Fry’s personality (and his bad shirts) detracts from this reasonably informative exploration of the music and politics of the German composer.

Wagner and Me is apparently an extended version of an hour long documentary made for the BBC, and the lower production values are evident in the beginning scenes with sweeping camera shots that made me feel a bit sick. Things settle down though, as self confessed Wagner tragic Fry breathlessly introduces us to preparations for the next production of The Ring Cycle at Bayreuth – the spiritual home of Wagner and the site of his famous purpose built opera theatre.

What follows is essentially a course in Wagner for Dummies – justifiable on the grounds that most theatre-goers know little about this ground breaking composer, except perhaps that his operas are ridiculously long, and that Hitler was his number one fan. And I am always pro to any attempts to educate the masses in the magic of my favourite art form.

A narrative tension is created by the conflict between Fry’s passionate love of Wagner’s music, and the well documented facts of Wagner’s (and his heirs’s) anti-Semitism – which Fry, having lost relatives in the Holocaust of WWII, feels duty bound to explore. The documentary gets really interesting when we are shown photos of Hitler appearing at a window of Bayreuth, waving to hoards of delirious fans; and scenes of Nuremburg, where we learn that Wagner sing-alongs often preceded the famous Nazi rallies. Another powerful moment is when Fry talks to a survivor of the Auschwitz, a cellist whose survival depended on playing for officers of the SS.

Behind the scenes peeks at rehearsals, both at Bayreuth and at a very interesting looking production of the Ring in St Petersburg, are interspersed with the historic and political, but most of the music scenes are too short to be really satisfying. While  the shrieking women of the Valkyries are always a hoot, the musical  highlight is a whole scene played on piano which demonstrates the magic of the “Tristan Chord”, and the way that Wagner uses an unresolving musical motif to keep the audience emotionally on tenterhooks until the final chord – some five hours later.

Fry’s love of Wagner’s music, and his delight at being backstage in the master’s theatre, are infectious. But he sabotages identification with this enthusiasm through constant self-deprecatory remarks - “You must think I’m mad” being a common one. As well as being intensely annoying, it destroys the mood that has just been set up – maybe by some sublime music – and here we are in Stephen Fry land again. God knows we get enough of that on the box every week.

This doco could have been, in someone else’s hands, an interesting exploration of whether it is possible to separate our appreciation of a genius’s creativity from our knowledge of their politics. Unfortunately, it comes across here as lip-service by Fry to counter the criticism that his slavish devotion to Wagner’s music will inevitably provoke.

Opera Australia recently announced, to great fanfare, they will be mounting a new production of the Ring Cycle in Melbourne in 2013. If you want to know what all the fuss is about, Wagner and Me is a good place to start. But, honestly, I’d wait for the DVD.

This review appears on AussieThearte.com

Guest Review: A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Opera Australia

Saturday 4 December 

The Arts Centre, State Theatre

to 18 December

www.ticketmaster.com.au

Review by Josephine Giles

Too long between drinks, I had almost given up hope that I would see an opera in this country that would demonstrate on all levels just how wonderful this artform can be. But every now and then a production comes along that reassures me that opera can be fantastic, magical and engaging, OA’s revival of Baz Luhrmann’s interpretation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream is so good it is almost impossible to imagine this opera being staged in any different way. 

First produced in 1993, and subsequently toured to the Edinburgh Festival to critical acclaim, this production has been revived a number of times in both Sydney and Melbourne. It is a testament to the power of the original vision, and the intelligent and informed revivals direction of Julie Edwardson, that the piece appears as fresh as new. The perfectly cast ensemble give no sense of recreating performances defined some 17 years ago – each of the singers inhabit their characters with confidence and imagination, imparting an infectious sense of enjoyment.

The success of this Dream owes much to the glorious design by Lurhmann’s creative partner Catherine Martin and Bill Marron. Transplanted in time and place to Indian 20s British Raj (a change one may think the Bard himself would be well pleased with), the stage is dominated by a three-tiered rotunda, set over a lily pond and overrun with vines from an encroaching jungle. The Athenians of Shakespeare’s play, embodying British upperclass properness, appear in Colonial style whites. Contrasting are the hot, vivid colours of the Indian inspired garb of the fairy world of Oberon and Tytania,  evoking a truly sensual fantasy land.

The middle level of the rotunda provides the stage for Orchestra Victoria, dressed for the occasion in military band uniforms, and conducted with sensitive precision here by Britten specialist Paul Kildea. Strategically placed monitors in the auditorium compensate for the lack of visual contact between the conductor and singers – made especially challenging by the complexity of Britten’s score – and an apron stage over the orchestra pit permits the singers to engage more immediately with the audience ( and overcome  the acoustic problems commonly associated with this theatre).

Special mention has to be made of the OA’s children’s chorus. As fairies and elves, they not only sing with beauty and precision, but dance and somersault around the stage demonstrating a level of stagecraft not always found in mature performers. Dressed in hues of red, pink and green, their presence adds both magic and joy to the proceedings. Children’s choruses often require a degree of forgiving compromise from an audience – that this isn’t needed at all is but one testament among many to the excellent direction of Edwardson, and the musical preparation by Anthony Hunt.

Time precludes me form mentioning all of the uniformly wonderful singers, except to say that all act with the same comfortable assurance with which they sing.  Special mentions go to Tobias Cole as the blue-torsoed dreadlocked Oberon, whose countertenor seems to have found a natural home in Britten’s music; Henry Choo (Lysander) and Dominica Matthews (Hermia), who too shine in this repertoire; and Conal Coad as an hilarious Bottom and Graeme McFarlane as a most light-footed Flute are scene stealers par-excellence. Actor Tyler Coppin, reprising the role he created in 1993, brings the whole night together as the mischievous Puck.

This most magical of Shakespeare’s plays has been deftly trimmed by composer Britten, and is complimented with an evocative score that grows on you as the night progresses. Baz Luhrmann’s creative talent completes the trifecta, making this a perfect opera. The show comes in at a bit over three hours, but I was engaged, even transfixed for all of that time. If you are afraid of, bored with, or new to opera, give it a go.  This could be the one that changes your mind. 

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com

Guest Review: Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher

Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher
The William May Corporation
24 October 2010
Atheneum
carriefisher.com

Review by Josephine Giles

Tell your friends you have seen Carrie Fisher’s Wishful Drinking and chances are they will want to know about the piles of cocaine that reputedly dotted the Star Wars trilogy sets. But Fisher, who will forever be defined by her portrayal of Princess Leia in those block-buster movies, offers much more in this show than a string of sordid anecdotes of celebrity drug abuse.

By the end of Wishful Drinking you will probably not know a lot more detail about the life your new besty Carrie than you have read in the tabloids or seen on talk shows.  We all know she was born of Hollywood royalty Debby Reynolds and Eddy Fisher; that she struggled with addictions to various substances after her early stardom in the Star Wars movies; that she was in a tumultuous relationship with, then married, then divorced the singer-songwriter Paul Simon; that she wrote a number of bestselling novels - one of which, Postcards From The Edge was made into a movie starring Meryl Streep and Shirley Maclaine; and that she has become somewhat of a pin-up girl for bi-polar disorder, the illness she has wrestled with for many years, but that has provided the fodder for some of her best writing.

What you will come away with, however, is an appreciation of Carrie’s significant talent as an actress and writer as she fleshes out the above in a highly entertaining oral memoir / slide night.  Arriving on stage singing “Happy Days Are Here Again”, tossing glitter into the audience, Carrie kicks off her shoes and settles into her cosy lounge room of a set which is dominated by a centrally placed large screen.   Demonstrating skills borrowed from the best stand-ups, she establishes an early intimacy with her audience with a hilarious question and answer session about sudden death and she soon has us well and truly warmed upped. 

Once it’s established that we’re all best friends, Carrie, with the assistance of projections, leads us through the story of her life, loves and illness.  From her statement “If my life wasn’t funny it would just be true, and that is unacceptable”, we learn that Carrie has not just the capacity, but the necessity to laugh at her life. So for all the considerable wit with numerous LOL moments - plus the pleasure of being entertained by someone we have all known for so long - we end up with admiration for Carrie’s capacity to endure, and create some sort of sense out of, a chaotic life lived out under the spotlight.

Carrie’s delivery is conversational and seemingly off the cuff, but this is merely evidence of her understated virtuosity. This is a tightly scripted show, polished through productions across America since 2006. The recipient of various awards for solo performance, Wishful Drinking is the work of a gifted storyteller.

At one point Fisher describes her show as narcissistic and audience pleasing, which it is, but I hate to think of where our entertainment industry would be if that description were grounds for disqualification. Carrie Fisher’s intense self-awareness adds a depth to the traditional comedic style of self-deprecation, and her intelligence and warmth shine and engage. 

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com

Guest Reviewer: Sondheim Triptych 1, 2

A Sondheim Triptych:
Saturday Night
Merrily We Roll Along
Magnormos
20 & 27 September 2010
Melbourne Recital Centre 
www.melbournerecital.com.au

Review by Josephine Giles

To celebrate the 80^th birthday of the music theatre legend Stephen Sondheim, Melbourne music theatre champions Magnormos have chosen three of his lesser celebrated works to be performed concert style over three consecutive Mondays.

The first two of these, Saturday Night (1953) and Merrily We Roll Along (1981) are clever choices that demonstrate Sondheim’s progression from a very good but still developing songwriter to arguably the most important theatre creator of his time – having found the way to communicate important ideas through the generally frivolous medium of the musical.

Saturday Night was to be Sondheim’s Broadway debut as a songwriter, but owing to the untimely death of the producer, its New York opening was delayed until the year 2000. It could be argued that this was no great loss to the world of musicals. The book (by Julius and Phillip Epstein) is thin, dealing with a group of young men on a succession of Saturday nights in Brooklyn just prior to the Great Crash of 1929. One of them, Gene, is swept away by the dream of a win on the stock market: after losing his gang’s money in a series of escalating financial disasters Gene is saved, both fiscally and morally, through the love of the pure and beautiful Helen.

Despite the insubstantial plot, the musical is charming, communicating a naive youthful exuberance existing in a less complicated era. Sondheim’s talent is evident in the many songs -  more lyrical and not as  seamlessly integrated   in  the piece as in his later works, but already bursting with inventive (and seemingly endless) witty rhymes.

For this semi-staged rendition the young but talented cast coped well with the occasionally required use of scripts, Brooklyn accents, and the brave (in these times) decision to go unamplified. Accompanied subtly by the upstage combo of piano, bass and drums, the cast were mostly audible in the extraordinary acoustic of the Recital Centre, though too much dialogue was lost thorough a naturalistic delivery, often aimed upstage. Underlining the change in acting styles and vocal technique since the introduction of body microphones, it was refreshing to hear voices au naturale for a change; but I would have preferred to see this old-school musical delivered in the old-school way: out front!

As all of the performers were wonderful it seems unfair to single out anyone for praise, but my favourites were the radiant Claire George (Helen), with her sweet and perfect singing; the big – voiced, comically gifted Montana Perrin (Mildred); and Andrew Strano (Dino) who epitomized the slightly OTT performance style required for this form of theatre.

Merrily We Roll Along, written some 28 years later, is Sondheim at the height of his powers as composer and lyricist. A musical for grownups, it combines themes of friendship, artistic compromise and the high price of success, with social commentary on the changing world of politics, relationships and ambivalence in love.

Literally turning dramatic convention on its head, Merrily We Roll Along starts in 1980 and through a series of scenes cycles backwards in time to 1957. Once a talented Broadway composer, successful Hollywood producer Franklin Shepard (Chris Parker) contemplates the ruin of his marriages and his dearest friendships – through the series of flashbacks we see Frank’s life as it unravelled, ending back at his idealistic youth with best friends Charlie (Stephen Wheat), his collaborator and librettist, and Mary (Laura Fitzpatrick), a novelist with an unrequited love for Frank.

What makes Merrily We Roll Along such a good match for Saturday Night is the way Sondheim uses it as a sort of retrospective of his own career. Songs appearing full-fledged earlier in the evening are reprised in less well developed form as we travel backward through time, culminating in an hilarious scene when Broadway producer Joe berates Frank for the lack of melody in his songs, and we’re treated to a clumsy work-in progress version of “What more do I need?”, the finale to Saturday Night.

Other musical highpoints are the song “Not a day goes by”, sung by Beth (Lisa-Marie Parker) with

gut wrenching anguish when her marriage to Frank disintegrates, then reprised with joy as Beth marries Frank some years earlier, with alternating verses sung with regretful longing by Mary; Stephen Wheat’s brilliant, show-stopping rendition of “Franklin Shepard inc.”; and  the clever “Bobby and Jackie and Jack”, presented for a 1960 review, another example of Frank’s yet to be fully realised genius.

The semi-staged production, beautifully directed by Shaun Murphy, used at centre stage a scaled down band (with a synthesiser standing in for the string section), and a “set” of two risers and a few bent wood chairs. Projections on the back wall of the theatre filled us in on where and when we were as we travelled back through time. This time the performers were miked – which, until the levels were sorted out toward the end of the first act, meant that again some dialogue was lost  to too-fast, poorly articulated upstage delivery.

Which is the only small criticism I can muster up about the night. Casting was impeccable – the three central characters played by Parker, Wheat and Fitzpatrick, were all superb, and supported by an equally good cast of principals and ensemble. Throw in some very g-roovy moves and an audience absolutely determined to celebrate, and you’ve got a great night out.

The Sondheim Triptych concludes on Monday Oct 4 with Anyone Can Whistle.

Guest Review: Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar
Victorian Opera
20 July 
Melbourne Recital Centre
to 30 July
www.ticketmaster.com.au

Review by Josephine Giles

This Caesar is good – very good. Though requiring some stamina from the audience, music lovers are rewarded with singing that simply knocks your socks off – packaged in a stylish, attractive production.

Granted limited financial resources for sets and lights, first-time opera director Stephen Heathcote (ex Australian ballet) was faced with another challenge – how to create an Egyptian court in the Elizabeth Murdoch Hall, which is a space well suited to chamber music but not at all to theatre. In collaboration with designers Stephen Curtis (sets), Alexis George (costumes) and Damien cooper (lighting) Heathcote has eschewed the literal. A dramatically simple set of essentially geometrical shapes, with a recognisable Cleopatra’s needle dominating the landscape, makes no attempt to disguise the hall, and provides a canvas for lighting that strives to integrate the set and the termite-like carvings of the recital centre walls. The gun-metal grey of the set is reminiscent of the surfaces of an aircraft carrier and serves to give a contemporary slant to the setting, reinforcing the time-less theme of warring nations.

Sensual relief is provided by a ceiling to lighting rig tall silken red curtain, which is manipulated throughout by the players to signify changes of scene. Simple but attractive costumes are historically non-specific and too unrelated to each other for my taste; but sensual opulence is again evident with the appearance of a beautiful swathe of blue fabric, manipulated by the dancers to accompany Cleopatra’s enticing aria V’adoro, pupille. This cloth-work and lighting could be used more frequently to enliven the somewhat stark staging, but the over-all effect of tasteful understatement work well for the most part.

Heathcote brings some delightful dance moves to this staging – again, this could have been taken further stylistically – and a lovely eye for the small tableaux that provide visual punctuation during the often long da capo arias.

Heading a home grown, but world class, cast is Sydney born David Hansen as Caesar. Described by a New York critic as a “matinee-idol countertenor”, Hansen has sung a variety of Handel roles around the globe and his confidence with this repertoire shows in his flamboyant coloratura, an impressive evenness and accuracy through all registers, and a startlingly clear top. A musical highlight was when he broke the fourth wall to join the orchestra in the auditorium to sing up a baroque bravura storm.

As Cleopatra, Tiffany Speight who so impressed as Romilda in the VO’s 2009 production of Xerxes, gives a sympathetic, down to earth portrayal of the famous seductress, and brings an easy and delightful style to the famous music.

Warm voiced Mezzo Tania Ferris is full of regal dignity as the bereaved Cornelia; and Dimity Shepherd applies her usual dramatic imagination to the androgynous Nireno, whom I swear is channelling media-queen Carson Kressley.

Scene stealer of the night though is young soprano Jessica Aszodi, as the boy Sesto. Aszodi is a natural and expressive actor, with a fresh voice of outstanding technique and surprising strength when needed, and gives the more experienced members of the company a real run for their money

Making up the remainder of the singing roles are Tobias Cole (a slimy Tolomeo), Anthony Mackey as the faithful Curio and the always impressive Steven Gallop as the brutish Achilla. Four dancers make up the cast as (amongst other things) guards, servants and scenery movers.

Conducting from the continuo in the pit, VO Musical Director Richard Gill inspired Orchestra Victoria to baroque splendour, marred only by occasional inaccuracies. 

All in all, this Julius Caesar is a triumph for the still young Victorian Opera, and for emerging director Heathcote. Though vastly different in style from last year’s delightful Xerxes, its strengths far outweigh its occasional weaknesses, with outstanding singing and music making that could be celebrated anywhere on the planet.

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Guest Review: The Turn of the Screw

The Turn of the Screw
Victorian Opera
9 July 2010
Playhouse, The Arts Centre
to July 17
www.ticketmaster.com.au

Review by Josephine Giles

Based on a Henry James short story, The Turn of the Screw is a ghost story with a twist. An impressionable young governess comes to Bly to look after two children who, it transpires, are being haunted by two evil ghosts. Or are they? Full of ambiguity, the story gifts to a director ample opportunity for flights of the imagination. Unfortunately this production, while chocker-block full of solid performances, remains earthbound.

Good things first. For this production Victorian Opera has engaged respected Britten expert Paul Kildea to conduct. Under Kildea’s sensitive and nuanced direction Orchestra Victoria responds in kind, with extra fine playing from the woodwind providing an atmospheric diversion from the emptiness on stage.

On stage, the youthful troupe of singers is, for the most part, well cast. As the highly strung Governess, Danielle Calder impresses with accomplished singing and a committed and convincing character. Maxine Montgomery as Mrs Grose sings with her customary assurance, while Melanie Adams (Mrs Jessel) is attractive but underpowered.

As the young charges Takshin Fernando (Miles) and Georgina Darvidis (Flora) are clear and engaging. Full marks should also go to Fernando for the most convincing miming ever of piano-playing in Act II.

 As the Narrator and the dastardly Peter Quint, James Egglestone is a perfect fit. His clear tenor is well suited to Britten’s music, and his impeccable diction and easy physicality add value to the package.

To the not-so-good. The Turn of the Screw is a sparse piece that is here staged with austerity. An almost empty stage is occupied by a Victorian style doll’s house, and the odd piece of furniture which is moved on and off to indicate a change of scene. Lighting is dim, to underline the action taking place in twilight, coupled with a black backdrop that sucks the life from the action. Lights in the doll’s house (spooky!), indicate changing times of day, but are inconsistent with the number of projected windows on the stage floor. The ghosts first appear in recesses in the back wall that look like, well, boxes; we know Flora is by a lake because she tells us while standing near a puddle of blue light, and the Governess must be walking in the garden because she is wandering around a stage lit with dappled leaves. I could go on. Suffice to say the direction and design lack imagination, and misuse the device of minimalism to ultimately convey very little in the way of atmosphere.

As with practically anything operatic these days, projected titles are used. In heavily orchestrated pieces sung in English their use can be justified. But for the lightly orchestrated The Turn of the Screw, in this theatre, and with this calibre of singers, their presence is an unnecessary distraction. The titles are situated at either side of the stage and just catch ones peripheral vision, making it impossible to focus on the singers (who are all perfectly understandable). To stop going mad, you end up giving up and looking away from the stage to read the titles and thus lose any immersion in the drama.

For its scale and contemporary subject matter The Turn of the Screw is a good repertoire choice for the Victorian Opera. The work is a perfect vehicle for the young singers promoted by the company, but this production, while strong musically, just misses the dramatic mark. The Turn of the Screw continues at the Playhouse till July17.Based on a Henry James short story, The Turn of the Screw is a ghost story with a twist. An impressionable young governess comes to Bly to look after two children who, it transpires, are being haunted by two evil ghosts. Or are they? Full of ambiguity, the story gifts to a director ample opportunity for flights of the imagination. Unfortunately this production, while chocker-block full of solid performances, remains earthbound.

Good things first. For this production Victorian Opera has engaged respected Britten expert Paul Kildea to conduct. Under Kildea’s sensitive and nuanced direction Orchestra Victoria responds in kind, with extra fine playing from the woodwind providing an atmospheric diversion from the emptiness on stage.

On stage, the youthful troupe of singers is, for the most part, well cast. As the highly strung Governess, Danielle Calder impresses with accomplished singing and a committed and convincing character. Maxine Montgomery as Mrs Grose sings with her customary assurance, while Melanie Adams (Mrs Jessel) is attractive but underpowered.

As the young charges Takshin Fernando (Miles) and Georgina Darvidis (Flora) are clear and engaging. Full marks should also go to Fernando for the most convincing miming ever of piano-playing in Act II.

 As the Narrator and the dastardly Peter Quint, James Egglestone is a perfect fit. His clear tenor is well suited to Britten’s music, and his impeccable diction and easy physicality add value to the package.

To the not-so-good. The Turn of the Screw is a sparse piece that is here staged with austerity. An almost empty stage is occupied by a Victorian style doll’s house, and the odd piece of furniture which is moved on and off to indicate a change of scene. Lighting is dim, to underline the action taking place in twilight, coupled with a black backdrop that sucks the life from the action. Lights in the doll’s house (spooky!), indicate changing times of day, but are inconsistent with the number of projected windows on the stage floor. The ghosts first appear in recesses in the back wall that look like, well, boxes; we know Flora is by a lake because she tells us while standing near a puddle of blue light, and the Governess must be walking in the garden because she is wandering around a stage lit with dappled leaves. I could go on. Suffice to say the direction and design lack imagination, and misuse the device of minimalism to ultimately convey very little in the way of atmosphere.

As with practically anything operatic these days, projected titles are used. In heavily orchestrated pieces sung in English their use can be justified. But for the lightly orchestrated The Turn of the Screw, in this theatre, and with this calibre of singers, their presence is an unnecessary distraction. The titles are situated at either side of the stage and just catch ones peripheral vision, making it impossible to focus on the singers (who are all perfectly understandable). To stop going mad, you end up giving up and looking away from the stage to read the titles and thus lose any immersion in the drama.

For its scale and contemporary subject matter The Turn of the Screw is a good repertoire choice for the Victorian Opera. The work is a perfect vehicle for the young singers promoted by the company, but this production, while strong musically, just misses the dramatic mark. 

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com