Showing posts with label es devlin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label es devlin. Show all posts

Sunday, 18 October 2015

Met Opera: Makeup free Otello in a cold and static world ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

This performance was reviewed in Curzon Cinema, Chelsea through the Met's Live in HD series on October 17th.
Antonenko as Otello (Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)
For the Met's Live in HD series Verdi's Otello launched the 2015 season that isn't located in sunny Cyprus, as the original Shakespearean play depicted, but in a dark and colder island not too far from the northern hemisphere. The production is dedicated to the late Jon Vickers who died this year and his past performance of Otello in 1978. It is also an important production of Otello that gives way to the Met's proud denouncement of the blackface tradition. (More on this later)

Producer and director Bartlett Sher has introduced his first tragic production, having directed at the Met since 2006 with Il barbiere di Siviglia, with a stage concept away from the Moor as an outsider but more on the destructive nature of jealousy taking hold of a captain on an isolated and icy island transgressing to the poisonous words of his ensign Iago. The visual details - sombre colours (grey, brown and black) through Catherine Zuber's 19th century costumes, Luke Hall's sea wave moving projections and Es Devlin's glass palace - create a minimalistic staging that leaves much of the work to conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the Met orchestra, soloists and Met chorus to draw in the audience and keep Verdi's opera burning bright until the real tragedy stirs in the final act.

Stage designer Devlin incorporates moving neo-classical, translucent, acrylic boxes which are architectural representations of the psychological complexity of the opera's lead characters, according to Sher, and rightly so considering the narrative unfolds through the malicious and conniving actions of Iago. The visual frostiness and lack of transparency illuminates Shakespeare's words, 'I am not what I am' hinting at the veneer that hides Iago's true demeanour. These visual blocks are cleverly coordinated in Act 3 when Iago and Cassio jokes and teases over a woman Otello believes is his wife and, like a maze, Otello meanders behind these opaque structures, avoiding a collision and being caught eavesdropping on their conversation.


(Courtesy of Met Opera photographer)
Yet as much as the narrative's symbolism is there something is largely missing from this production which is the warmth and sense of humanity in the other characters (apart from Ludovico and Emilia) and the overall staging. The only trace of passion is shown through Desdemona (Sonya Yoncheva) and Otello (Aleksandrs Antonenko); arguably this highlights how everyone else, including Iago, are stuck in a chilling and unfeeling world compared to Desdemona and Otello who relish over their love - the only bit of heat that others envy. This hot romance is depicted through Yoncheva and Antonenko who give a convincing picture of a couple in love. In act I, their distinctive performance in the duet leading to "un baccio" (one kiss) leaves a mark in many viewer's memory - a heartrending scene.

Latvian tenor Antonenko, one of the few tenors who can do justice to the role of Otello, opens his eyes wide and give the audience an enraged, suspicious and angry husband. Vocally he sings within his range, ravishing and poised reaching those top notes as he had effortlessly done before in the role which he has held since 2011 at Opera National in Paris, and as much as some operagoers may be used to seeing him with blackface makeup, this custom, that the media has over advertised, is trivialised, not at all significant to the general effect of the opera. The jealousy of Desdemona and Cassio and duplicity of Iago is much more relevant than the idea of Otello as the Moor in this production. Antonenko delivers the sickness of jealously explicitly and also reveals the softer side of Otello at the very end which the audience pities when he realises he was dupped in to killing his wife. The only down side, however, is despite how vocally sophisticated and intense his voice is, Antonenko doesn't have the appeal of a captain and there is no inkling of an outsider which is subscribed to his character - the major downfall and tragedy of Otello.


(Courtesy of Met Opera Photographer)
Attractive Bulgarian soprano Yoncheva is reassuring in her address of Desdemona, completely true to her husband and innocent. Zuber dresses her in a blood red gown and in white in the final act which separates her from the rest of the cast and chorus. Her voice is strong, romantic and adds interesting depth; together with Antonenko they sing gracefully in the love duet. Her forlorn "Willow song" - knowing she is going to die by the hand of her husband - grabs the hearts of the audience. It is undoubtedly moving and sensitive; here at the Curzon Cinema the audience did not move an inch - you could almost hear a pin drop.

Baritone Željko Lučic looks cool and suave as the evil villain Iago. Lučic gives Otello 'evils', snarls and murmurs when he isn't looking. In a long black leather jacket, he sings powerfully "Credo in un Dio credel" selling the richness of his malcontent and nihilism. Lučic pulls off some vigorous singing in "Sotto Voce" yet remains far removed, and just as cold as every other person on stage excluding the lovers. Exquisite singers; Dimitri Pittas, as Cassio; Günther Groissböck, as Ludovico; and Jennifer Johnson Cano, also deserve their due playing invaluable parts of the stage. Sadly Verdi didn't give them enough Italian words to sing. In spite of the motionless Met Chorus, particularly in the first scene, they were vocally immense as well.

The Met Orchestra and maestro Nézet-Séguin has a lot to offer through high spirited conducting and the spectrum of temperaments from instilling rage, tenderness and innocence. I can only imagine that if I were at the Met I would have felt the volume and electrifying dynamic movement from the orchestra especially the cellos and the brass chords. The attractiveness of this production really stems from the soloists and the musicians in the pit, yet the stage is, for the most, part, static and drags down the sheer gravitas of Verdi's fascinating opera.


Antonenko and Yoncheva  (Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera via AP)
The "blackface"...
... issue, which has ceased at the Met since the opening night of this production, is a direction that should have taken place decades ago in an ideal world. Last year the ENO also gave the makeup-free role of Otello to Australian tenor Stuart Skelton which signified the ENO's break from tradition. Theatreland abandoned the need for a white actor to makeup their face to play the Moor a long time ago but, then, why did it take opera more time to catch up? 

The tradition has existed since José Cura sung the role in the 1891 Met production and in that time Patrick Stewart had played the lead role in a "photo negative" theatrical performance without makeup and an all-black cast as the Venetians.  Theatre world has been much more experimental with Shakespeare's version of Othello; in this summer's RSC production Iago and Othello were casted by Lucian Msamati and Hugh Quarshie - both black actors. 

Having read Washington Post's summary of interviews with opera singers 'of colour' (Kenneth Kellogg, Soloman Howard, Russell Thomas, Alyson Cambridge, and Deborah Nansteel), who find no offence committed in putting dark makeup on tenors' faces, I have a question mark over their comparison between Otello and Madama Butterfly who, as a geisha, is covered with white makeup. There's a clear difference in that Geishas - Japanese or non-Japanese - are covered in white makeup irrespective of their ethnicity. The character of Otello on the other hand is segregated for his difference of colour in the Shakespearean play which is a trope of Otello which librettist Arrigo Boito and Verdi deliberately transferred to the opera.

However there are other forms of isolation and segregation that can be shown on stage without the need to reference the difference of skin tone. Theatre directors have the grim, challenging and, arguably, fun task of deciding how they stage a production of Othello yet this sense of liberty and artistic license is limited in opera. Why is that? Because it's opera and it requires a first class singer to nail the role of Otello. In fact, the roles of Otello, Iago and Desdemona are among the few of Verdi's most demanding and vocally dramatic roles he had written. Antonenko, as I stated above, is one of the few in the market qualified and vocally suited to the role of Otello. This is demonstrated through his vocal prowess which overshadows the lack of a blackface in this Met production, but then, this leads onto another cloud of problems - the limited scope of singers trained to sing certain roles.

Russell Thomas, in the Washington Post interview, raises the point about opera houses not picking singers within their "locality" and choosing talent from elsewhere e.g. abroad. The removal of a blackfaced Otello underlines other issues in opera where this old art form has only just got rid of an archaic custom and, now, opened a discussion over the competition amongst opera singers all over the country, and the world, for leading roles in opera repertory.

The Met's decision to denounce the blackfaced Otello is just the tip of the iceberg. Directors may simply decide to get rid of a few lines referencing the Moor's coloured skin from Boito's libretto (which would be a huge mistake) or perhaps decide to cast a black tenor to sing Otello - it's been done before. One example is the first black tenor to sing the role of Otello in the UK (Ronald Samm) in the Birmingham Opera Company's 2009 production. Either way, the Met's decision has brought attention to the massive competition amongst opera singers and the decisions casting directors have to make for demanding roles.

Tuesday, 10 March 2015

ROH: The Rise and Fall of Mahagonny ★★★★


For most operas, and contrary to popular belief, audiences are not required to read a synopsis or any literature about the creative process of the work, however, for The Rise and Fall of Mahagonny (Aufstieg und Fall der Stadt Mahagonny in German), a little bit of reading wouldn’t hurt.
The opera’s creators, the poet and librettist Bertolt Brecht, and composer Kurt Weill, collaborated during the 1930s after World War I and the collapse of the Weimar Republic. At the time, German and Austrian composers were reinventing opera having developed Zeitoper (opera in the time in German) in the 1920s, which mixed together music genres: jazz, contemporary, and cabaret, with political satire. 
Based on an opera of ‘juxtapositions’, from music to text, The Rise and Fall of Mahagonny follows the lives of criminals searching for an escape who end up in the city of Mahagonny, which breeds cash, greed, capitalism and sex. Given the opera’s unusual nature, audiences will wonder whether a production has captured the ironies and quizzical devices that Brecht and Weill implemented in the 1930s.
Last night was the opening night for the first, ever, production of The Rise and Fall of Mahagonny at the Royal Opera House. Under the direction of John Fulljames it successfully captured the complexity of the opera as delivered in the 1930s. Fulljames’ production has updated the opera to 2015 with high-tech digital trends and props, which Brecht and Weill would have, only, dreamt of. 

There are various themes (too many to mention here) that are purposefully embedded by Brecht and Weill, but Fulljames has introduced a production that allows the audience to freely figure out the complicated metaphors and allegories in an uncomplicated manner. One of these devices are the songs. Although originally written in German, there are easily memorable, and tongue-in-cheek, songs written and sung in English including the ‘Benares Song’ and the well-known ‘Alabama Song’, which has been covered by multiple artists from David Bowie to music band The Doors. 
To keep the opera fresh Fulljames has instilled a cross-pollination of digital traditions. Finn Ross’ video designs are layered on top of one another, which include an image of a hurricane, an animated weather map, footage of civilians in the middle of a hurricane and even a title screen that reads ‘Mahagonny’. This is neatly bundled up with audio recordings of inscriptions set between each scene and live broadcast footage of the singers on stage, and some members of the audience. (You’ve been warned!)
This appropriately merges in with Es Devlin’s fascinating set designs, one of the best stage designs I’ve seen at the Royal Opera House, with a versatile lorry that opens up into many things like a magician’s bag. It can be a gruelling office, a prostitutes' hub, or a bar with jazz pianist, Robert Clarke, playing away with large white palm trees sat right next to him. The use of huge colourful shipments boxes is also an industrial cabinet of curiosity that stores more than human traffic and whiskey decanters combined.
The chorus singers were enthusiastic and on excellent form on stage. They were most remarkable at the end of the opera to the song, ‘To This Day Found In Mahagonny’, which sounded almost like a quasi-sermon song. Mark Wigglesworth conducted the ROH orchestra and although, the music was full of quality, pace and energy, I felt there was a lack of volume for some songs that needed an extra punch such as the first run of the ‘Alabama song’. I also got a sense that some musicians were more confident than others given that the opera was being played here for the first time.
Yet confidence wasn’t a problem for our eclectic cast. Annie Sofie von Otter, as Begbick, was a joy to watch, but vocally she was all over the place. She started off on strong form yet by Act 2 her voice wasn't as consistent. There was confusion as to whether her accent was English or American as well. Willard W. White, as Moses, was simply authentic. He brought his vintage, signature bass-baritone voice that was a thrill to hear. And Peter Hoard was also a great act on stage but for the role of Fatty there wasn’t a good enough aria to show off his vocal talent. 
(Photo: From the Times)
But it was Kurt Streit’s Jimmy and Christine Rice’s Jenny that got the audiences' attention. Streit sang as a rebel who broke all the rules, when it wasn’t permitted, and he didn’t hold back. Streit's character was possibly the only character that showed raw emotion and he sung as if he was at the a picket line over brassy jazz and ragtime melodies. Rice, however, controlled her voice to model the mind frame and stoic mannerisms of Jenny who acknowledged her profession as a prostitute and desire for nothing but hard cash. Her pure silky voice was present but Rice managed to embrace and fine tune her vocals to remind the audience that Jenny was a prostitute who only cared about money.
Operas like this one, with sophisticated concepts, unorthodox narrative, huge set designs and a combination of artistic genres, are few and far between. The Rise and Fall of Mahagonny is a bizarre opera. At times it can be morose, realistic and too close to home, particularly with topics about the economy and society as a whole but audiences are bound to ask themselves a few thought provoking questions whilst being entertained by a pig playing an accordion. 

The opera is showing until the 4th of April. Click here for more information. 
Photographs courtesy of the Royal Opera House.






Sunday, 11 May 2014

Why ‘I Can’t Sing’ failed. A waste of exceptional talent on a distasteful and tacky script ***



Even I have to admit that the closure of Simon Cowell’s co-produced theatre show, ‘I Can’t Sing’ is not an entire surprise and may do the West End theatre world a lot of favours given it’s patchy, inconsistent and often over-the-top script, which seemed to have gotten carried away with itself.  That being said there were great musical scores written by Steve Brown, exceptional singing from talented and artistic cast members particularly Cynthia Erivo, impressive dance choreographies and added showmanship on hard-to-make set designs by Es Devlin, which deserve notable credit.

Harry Hill, comedian and host of his own comedy show,‘TV Burps,’co-wrote the show with direction from West End’s, Sean Foley, which may sound like a fitting pair to create something innovative given how successful they have been in their individual professions, yet attempting to translate the X-factor, a Saturday night TV programme with over millions of viewers which has a bitter sweet and sour reaction from the general public based on its odd contestants and frequently ridiculed judges, onto a large scale, £6 million worth, West End stage only riles theatre critics more by putting a question mark over it’s credibility as a stage show and over-worked marketing strategies which took place months before the show came out. Cowell even devoted time on TV such as the Royal Variety Show to promote it. Circumstances like these ask for an early retirement, which was precisely the case yesterday (May 10th) after running as short as 2 months at London’s Palladium. There are possibly several factors that have led to the shows demise, which should caution anyone thinking about bringing theatre to the West End.

The plot is based on Chenice’s (Erivo) struggle and strife of a journey to X-factor fame. Accompanied by her crude dog, Barlow (Simon Lipkin,) she falls in love with ukulele player and plumber, Max, (Alan Morrissey,) which puts their relationship on a standstill having to deal with the unglamourous complications of show business. This, alongside the death of her grand father who lives off an electrically supported lung and the demolition of her caravan, is left penniless which gives her a head start in the competition with an X-factor necessity – ‘a back story.’

Unfortunately, the show isn’t as simple as this as there are multiple plots, sub-plots and tertiary plots that detract from the main story. There are bizarre and random parts of the show, which reveal a lack of consideration or planning at its preliminary creative stages to keep the story line fluid. These weird parts include the show ending with Cowell as an alien that the audience sees off in a spaceship, one of the contestants singing dressed as a Valkyrie figure, presence of leprechuans and everything Irish cheering on the band, Alter Boyz (Shaun Smith and Rowen Hawkins,) Trevor Modo (Charlie Baker,) as the modern day Quasimodo and wannabe Eminen style rapper, the rise of an air pumped phallic lily to the song, ‘Uncomplicated love,’ and other dragged out choruses, which the show could have done without. This frequently left the audience confused and losing track of where they were in the show.    

Critics have argued that the show was a narcissistic project of Cowell’s even if it depicted him in a satirical way.   He is played by Eastender actor, Nigel Harman, who sings, ‘I am the Patron Saint of Fame,’ having entered from the sky like a statuesque messiah.   Knowingly, and as condoned by Cowell himself, Harman recreates an impression of Cowell in every possible stereotype the media have described him; diva, little-man-syndrome, insecure, arrogant and lonely bachelor.  Silly but noteworthy acting stems from various actors including a performance artist playing a dramatisation of the wind,  Polish contestant, Vladimir (Steven Serlin,) Camp TV producer, Billy Carter who showed off his tap dancing skills and Brenda (Katy Secombe,) the check out assistant.

Staff, stage and crew were said to make deliberate and slight changes to the show given it was the grand finale which were presented through brief references and adlibbed lines by Lipkin and Chenice’s grandfather (Joe Speare) who just before the standing elevation (to which I reluctantly took part in,) hung down as an angel and said the words, ‘God loves this show but even he could not make it run.’

Despite the glitz and glamour, most of the mumbling and pointed jokes that came out of Lipkin’s puppet dog were crass and debasing. Some members of the audience were unsure whether to laugh considering there were children present and some lines seemed off-the-cuff and plainly politically incorrect. It goes to show an error on Hill and Foley’s part on not identifying the discrepancy of who they should have targeted their audience at and dealing with the repercussions of a non-sell-out show because of the lack of consistent writing.  Hill is a comedian and with respect to this, the show will undoubtedly be humorous but one has to ensure the jokes are in line with the correct audience, not as degrading as Jordy’s bottom tattoo.


Concerns of the ticket sales could have stemmed from the miscorrelation between X-factor’s target audience of 7 million sofa viewers and those willing to pay for a theatre ticket that are worth up to £80 per seat. It seems that the realistic figures were not bought up earlier on, which even Cowell admits, “We took a punt and it didn't work out. If I could do things different, I would have gone to local theatres and built up a following…’  

The TV show that founded artists like One Direction and Leona Lewis is watched by a larger number than those willing to fork out the cash to see it in the West End, especially one which glorifies and gratifies Cowell, a celebrity with a mixed reception. Yet, there is one thing worth pointing out which no one has interestingly picked up. Over the course of a decade, or ever since Cowell started judging on TV programmes including Pop Idol, American Idol and Britain’s Got Talent, how many contestants has he rejected? These could have been possible theatregoers or perhaps due to his uncompromising, blasé and rash critiques of their performances developed a large hate group. The calculations potentially go beyond the thousands if we are considering contestants outside the UK as well.

From the failure of 'I Can’t Sing’, we have to succumb to the fact that no matter how extravagant the budget, how grand the hype, and popularity of the TV show or its celebrities, it is not a formula for success in the West End. However, let’s not forget that not all theatre critics gave the show a 4 star or 5 star rating at its debut which may be why it was not only the misguided target market or its subjects that was a recipe for disaster yet the perception of the show in its entirety which hastened its closure.