Category: production

Event: Come See Me Talk Opera In Toronto March 15th

On March 11, 2018

In appearance, Canada, classical, movies, opera, production, voice

Matthew Polenzani as Nemorino and Pretty Yende as Adina in Donizetti’s “L’Elisir d’Amore.”
Photo: Karen Almond/Metropolitan Opera

Longtime readers of mine will know I was raised on a steady diet of Italian opera. Alongside Puccini, Bellini, and the household favorite, Giuseppe Verdi (whose dwellings I visited last fall, an account of which you can discover in an upcoming issue of Opera Canada magazine), there was also the music of Donizetti. What to say about the man who wrote one of the most famous bel canto works in history, one based not on any Mediterranean story but on a novel by Scotsman Walter Scott? While Lucia di Lammermoor was, alongside La boheme, Norma, and Rigoletto, one of the mainstays of my youth, it wasn’t the Donizetti work I immediately responded to; that honor belonged, rather, to L’elisir d’amore (The Elixir of Love), a sitcom-like comedy brimming with warmth and humanity.

The opera, written hastily over a six-week period and premiered in Milan in 1832, is one of the popular and beloved of works in the opera world. Some very famous singers have been performed in it, including Nicolai Gedda, Tito Gobbi, Mirella Freni, Renata Scotto, Carlo Bergonzi, Joan Sutherland, Placido Domingo, Anna Netrebko, Roberto Alagna, Rolando Villazon … the list goes on. The opera offers an array of vocal fireworks which are deceptive for their elegant, hummable simplicity. Luciano Pavarotti is widely known (and rightly loved) for his sparkling performance of Nemorino, the hapless, lovelorn male lead; I was fortunate enough to see him sing it live (along with another great Italian singer, Enzo Dara, who sang the role of the potion-peddlar, Dr. Dulcamara). The venerable tenor seemed lit from within in the role, and it’s no wonder; he confessed in interviews that his favorite stage role was, in fact, Nemorino, the role he felt closest to, out of everything he’d done. As well as having one of the most famous arias in all of opera, Nemorino is brimming with neither intellectualism or thoughtful reflection (or even that much witty repartee, unless he’s dead drunk on the potion Dulcamara gave him), but, rather, steadfastly tied to a beautiful, earnest position full of love and longing. Nemorino loves Adina, the popular girl, who doesn’t give him (initially) the time of day; it’s a familiar story, a simple story, and one that, when couched in such splendid music, makes for a great introduction to the art form.

Matthew Polenzani as Nemorino in Donizetti’s “L’Elisir d’Amore.” Photo: Karen Almond/Metropolitan Opera

And so it is that I’ll be hosting a special Cineplex event featuring the opera this coming Thursday (15 March) in Toronto, a Live in HD re-broadcast of the Metropolitan Opera’s production of L’elisir d’amore, featuring tenor Matthew Polenzani and soprano Pretty Yende (both of whom I saw last season in various Met productions) in the lead roles. I was recently part of a panel on Toronto radio station Newstalk 1010 with broadcaster Richard Crouse discussing this, and mentioned Pavarotti, melodic music, and how I got into opera — but really, it’s much more fun to come see — and hear! — for yourself. Details on the screening are here — and you can win tickets here. I may or may not wear my crown (likely not), but I would love to see and meet (and chat with!) opera lovers old and new. Will it change your mind about opera? Maybe. Will you love the music? I would bet the response, post-broadcast, will be a resounding “si” — hopefully see you there!

Turn On The Dark

By Catherine Kustanczy

On June 14, 2011

In interviewing, music, Non-Classical Writing, popular culture, production, theatre, writing

A documentary aired on television earlier tonight about the legendary Chrysler Building here in New York. It brought to mind the incredible sets of Spider Man: Turn Off The Dark. Apparently the famous landmark features prominently in the musical’s scenic design, by George Tsypin.

The troubled (and hopefully now, not-so-troubled) production opened tonight at the Foxwoods Theater. I’ve been following the show’s developments for a while, and was one of its biggest boosters, until actor Christopher Tierney suffered a serious injury last December. Then I just got worried. Then frustrated. Then angry. I followed, with some horror, the drama involving director / co-creator Julie Taymor being forced out by the show’s producers, in March. Things seemed very ugly and uncertain for a while, and it’s something of a miracle the show is finally opening tonight. I’m happy for everyone, though until I see it, I’m going to withhold judgment, and good or bad ideas. Still, I remain very curious.

Lastnight I somewhat quenched that curiosity, and joined a few hundred curious other folk to hear two of Spider Man’s producers, who are also its composers (and, oh yeah, mega-mondo big-ass rock stars), spoke in a public forum about the show, its problems, its challenges and its potential. The 92nd Street Y buzzed with energy as the 8pm start time came and went. The intimate auditorium brimmed with either super-excited super-U2-ers, or Broadway fans curious about what the Irish pair might have to say as newcomers to the Great White Way. Author Salman Rushdie was also present, along with a smattering of New York intellgentsia and longtime Y supporters, who sat in thoughtful silence, even as a small but annoying smattering of gushing female mondo-fans over-clapped and giggled at every little rock star face. (Note to self: next time there’s an empty seat beside Mr. Rushdie, take it.)

Interviewer Jordan Roth, President of Jujamcyn Theaters (the company behind shows like the award-winning The Book Of Mormon and Jersey Boys) and host of Broadway Talks at 92nd Street Y, asked the two about the attraction of the live stage. Edge rightly pointed out that “(U2) found its feet on a live stage”, while Bono noted that “there’s a thing happening in culture at the moment, where the live arts seem more important than the recording.” He continued:

It’s that inexplicable thing when you get a great performer and great material, and it can only happen in a live context. We were intrigued by it, and we’d seen some great shows like Les Miz and some of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s shows. We saw the chance to do something where we could take advantage of what we were playing around with in rock ‘n roll, and if it was the right project, it might be something we’d want to do.

I pondered this as I sat through the nearly-90 minute Q&A session, which was equal parts frustration (far too much uncritical fan worship) and fascination (body language indicating extreme nervousness for at least one of the composers), peppered with plenty of charm, sarcasm, and humor. The interview was a mix of casual and formal, focusing on U2’s creative output, and its connection with the experience of writing and producing on Broadway. Inane questions about “who do you think the next Gandhi will be?” aside (a fan question submitted earlier), it was, for the most part, an interesting mix of honesty, humor, and humility, offering a rare insight into the harried journey of composition and creativity from two very, very famous men.

Walking out of the Y at the talk’s end, I reflected on the power of live arts, and of theater especially. Sunday night saw my Twitter stream fill with people’s reactions and observations on the Tony Awards, which were unfolding in real-time. People were virtual fist-pumping, guffawing, loudly declaiming -it was a drama in and of itself -as they found a community of like-minded, live-loving souls whose whole existence seemed focused on the sheer pleasure of watching live people do rather ordinary things extraordinarily well. In the wired up world of the 21st century, there’s something awfully reassuring and simply good about going to the theater; there’s a certain kind of bond created, however unspoken, between audience and cast and crew -it’s a symbiotic relationship involving trust, tech, timbre, and sometimes even tap-dancing. MP3s, iPads, and fancy mobiles with a millions apps can’t compete -and shouldn’t. To see this kind of passion replicated on Twitter for the Tonys was an interesting experience; it’s the same phenomenon as during the Oscars, or any other awards show, or any other big event, for that matter. There’s a community -but it isn’t the same as live theater. Being part of a group of living, breathing, sweating human beings in the dark, watching other living, breathing, sweating human beings lit up and performing before you is a uniquely delicious experience, one that speaks to our common humanity and desire for shared, live experience.

Saturday night I was able to finally able to partake in this shared experience. I attended my first piece of theater since moving to New York, which felt like somewhat of a momentous occasion, even if I went in with mixed feelings about Tom Stoppard’s play Arcadia. I completely overlooked that awkwardness in favour of the opportunity to see -no, experience -real live people onstage, playing. Playing roles, and beautifully, simply, playing. (As it turns out, David Leveaux’s production was so excellent, I’m now a confirmed Arcadia fan.) This is something I think the composers of Spider Man inherently understand; they have, for wont of a better word, been playing, literally and figuratively, onstage now for thirty-plus years. Transferring that energetic faith and exuberant zeitgeist for live performance into a real, concrete thing that serves the difficult, choosy twins of narrative and character is always an uphill struggle, especially if you’re used to composing within the fiercely competitive, pressure-cooker world of Broadway.

Lastnight, Bono admitted that the show still has “10%” left to improve on, and won’t close that gap for at least another two months. “In the end, The Edge and I have got good manners, we’re fun… but we are motherf***ckers,” he noted. There was steel in the singer’s husky voice, a characteristically Dublin-esque stare-down in his no-nonsense expression, devoid of usual charm, but with a bald, toothsome authenticity that made the comment -and its delivery -deeply affecting and entirely believable. That simple, blunt acknowledgement captured the sexy, succulent siren’s call of play and creativity, and her fraught relationship with the ugly, gargoyle-like nose-to-the-grindstone practicality that could only (and must only) be Lady Siren’s lifelong mate. What results is frequently personal, but when you’re in the performing arts, it winds up being writ large, up for debate, criticism, hounding, and eternal judgment. Such is the fate of such a union, of such a scary, scintillating, and in many ways, artistically necessary undertaking. A near-alchemical mix of faith and hard work sometimes open doors to new worlds -and sometimes not.

In the end, the mantra is simple: Work hard. Play hard. Live hard. That is theater’s call to all of us, however we may choose to weave our webs.

92nd Street Y stage photo from my Flickr photostream.

Drawing Miss Jessica

By Catherine Kustanczy

On May 24, 2010

In production

The world of fashion is one I have a contentious relationship with. When I was a child I wanted to be a fashion designer. I understood the world visually, via style, first, and I would constantly be feeling fabrics and drawing little stick figures with dresses, flourishes of lace, satin, sequins, and ribbons in place. I dressed up Barbies, even cutting and dying their blonde tresses to match a look I was going for with each of them. When the then-newly-minted Fashion Television came on, I watched with saucer-eyes as girl after girl pranced down bright runways in all manner of thing beautiful: big hats, heely boots, swooshing wraps, tight skirts. It struck me as glamorous, theatrical, and exciting.

As I grew older, my fascination with fashion changed, transforming and integrating itself with my other pursuits, and into a passion for visual art, performance, and music. Fashion felt insubstantial, and in some cases, even cruel. My relationships with those in the non-profit world, coupled with my own research, gave me shudders when I learned the process of harvesting, manufacture and production involves a fair bit of exploitation. A recent clip of a current BBC World series hit me, as an Indian woman, formerly a garment factory worker, expresses the same ideas. It’s troubling, and it makes that “faaabulous dahlings” look at little less… um, fabulous. Never mind the narrow, old-fashioned ideas of what constitutes beauty (specifically female beauty) or presentation; the idea that a tall, thin, hipless, white girl of 18 looks better on a long (read: boring) runway, and is part-and-parcel of the “fantasy” fashion sells is… utter nonsense. My fantasy involves full hips, big lips, crooked noses, and lack of poses, standing, talking, sharing, connecting. Take that, Karl Lagerfeld.

So I was really impressed, happy, and intrigued when I attended the show for Canadian designer Jessica Jensen last fall. It was set in an art studio, and it featured all size, shape, and race of woman touching and feeling the garments, placed on faceless mannequins throughout the space. It was Warholian, experimental, daring, and very unusual. Jensen has since gone on to have a trunk show in Toronto, and is getting all kind of kudos for her elegant, comfortable designs and creative, curious approach. Also? She’s ethical, which only makes her more fashionable, if you ask me. And her connection to art, as you’ll read, is undeniable. Maybe, just maybe, my faith in fashion is being slowly restored.

What was the first piece of fashion you saw that made you want to go into the fashion world?

I can’t pin it down to a piece of fashion that I saw. I just remember opening a large trunk full of fabrics in my mother’s art studio and immediately asking her to teach me to sew. I wasn’t quite patient enough for her to share her expertise… so I hopped on the machine and just played and created with no real understanding of the technical details behind the process. I knew at a very young age that I would go into fashion… by Grade 7 I had my heart set on attending Ryerson. Although I toyed with the idea of architecture as a career, I only ever applied for the fashion program at Ryerson. My parents weren’t surprised by my confidence when not applying for other programs as a back-up plan. I was sure of myself and a little naive regarding the competition.

Do you have a favorite visual artist who influences your work?

In all honesty, my favorite visual artist is my husband. He sees the world very much as I do and translates his romantic and nostalgic sensibility into his work. I’m also regularly influenced by other artists, from openings, readings and films that I have recently viewed. Every artist has a unique perspective on life and there is always something from each that I can draw on for inspiration.

Your autumn show, at the Thrush Holmes studio, was really memorable for its mix of art, fashion, and conceptual design; how did this event come about? How much has his work been an influence on you?

Thrush has always been a strong influence in my life. We grew up in the same town, took art class together in high school and moved to Toronto within a year of each other. He remains a close friend of mine and Joshua’s. I would say that the three of us are constantly competing, motivating and inspiring one another. Thrush’s Gallery is very comforting to me and no other venue seemed to hold the same impact as his. The structure itself parallels his character of modest grandeur. Joshua’s landscapes also, despite their size, speak softly and the venue allowed them to breathe along with my collection. I wanted the show to hang like an exhibit, allowing the product to speak for itself and enabling the audience a chance to view it the way they would a work of art, appreciating the detailed hand-work that goes into each piece.

Furthermore, I wanted our guests to use the installation as a way to better understand the story behind the product: the visual inspiration, the design illustrations, the campaign images, the campaign video, and lastly the product itself. I never thought about how it would be perceived. I spend more evenings at art openings than I do fashion shows and I am of the strong opinion that designers are also artists. Fashion is simply a different medium and it is a shame that the audience is only given 60 seconds as it comes down a runway to see it and appreciate it. So much is lost in the distance between the viewer and the model.

When we spoke last Fall, you emphasized how it was important to you to meet the people who make your designs. How much do you see the fashion world changing to a more conscious kind of ethos when it comes to sourcing and production?

I’d like to say its making drastic improvements, but that would be a falsity. The majority of product sold in North America is manufactured to be competitive in price – a strong consumer demand. There is of course a trend to make socially responsible decisions wherever possible. Even Walmart is making these changes in their own way. I am in a position where my product is not solely driven by cost, and therefore I have the luxury of carefully choosing who I work with. Every worker that I employ in Toronto, New York, Italy and China is skilled in their work, and each takes pride in what they do. I try and meet everyone that works on my product; this way they know how much I care for it and they try to emulate the same respect and pride.

You’re known primarily for handbags and leathers, but you’re also into clothing now too -how difficult was it to expand? Or was expansion always in the cards for you?

It has always been in the cards. I’m still testing the market, slowly, with ready-to-wear, and I won’t launch a full apparel collection for quite sometime. My core business is leather goods and it is important to me to build my customer base before I expand into other product categories. With that said, I also plan on expanding into footwear, jewelry, eyewear, fragrance, home goods, etc in years to come. My vision for Jessica Jensen is a lifestyle brand providing modern day women with effortless style for their everyday lives.

What is your definition of “style” in the 21st century?

21st Century style, to me, is a strong sense of self and the appreciation for times past fused with a new perspective.

More info on Jessica Jensen here.
Special thanks to Tatiana for arranging, Kimberly for photos, and Jessica, for … being fabulous.