Month: April 2019

The Children – redefining well-being as responsibility, at Circa Theatre

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Circa Theatre presents:
THE CHILDREN – by Lucy Kirkwood

Directed by Susan Wilson

Catherine Downes (Rose)
Carmel McGlone (Hazel)
Peter Hambleton (Robin)

Set Design – John Hodgkins
Lighting – Marcus McShane
Sound – Oliver Devlin
Costumes – Sheila Horton

Circa Theatre, I Taranaki St., Wellington

Tuesday 2nd April, 2019

Enigmas abound in this award-winning 2016 play by British playwright Lucy Kirkwood, here presented by Wellington’s Circa Theatre, and brought to everyday life by art-that-conceals-art performances from the three actors, Catherine Downes, Carmel McGlone and Peter Hambleton, in tandem with similarly naturalistic, almost self-effacing direction from Susan Wilson – a worthy New Zealand premiere production.

Firstly, the play’s title leads one to expect that the subject, theme, story, etc., will feature, if not directly, eponymously younger people than those we encountered right throughout the evening’s presentation. Yes, during the action we were told a good deal about the eldest child of two of the characters, Hazel (Carmel McGlone) married to Robin (Peter Hambleton), though very little about the other three children. But it turns out that this child, Lauren, is less of a flesh-and-blood dramatic character than a representative factor in the issue that the play almost teasingly and certainly intriguing takes its time to reveal. The “children” of the play’s title eventually materialise, but not in the shape or form or context we might expect.

Then there’s the context of the whole thing – set on England’s Eastern Coast, the character’s interactions are played out in the wake (we are told, and made startlingly aware of by a couple of disturbing “extrusions” of human fluid) of some kind of nearby nuclear accident (Kirkwood’s play was written as a reaction to the 2011 Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster, caused by an earthquake and an accompanying tsunami). For the three characters, the “accident” mentioned in the play effectively changed their career-paths as nuclear phycisists, as it destroyed the power plant where all three of them were working – Hazel and Robin have (for various reasons) stayed in the neighbouring area, while Rose (Catherine Downes) went to live and work in the USA). For some reason, they’re now back together.

Finally – in broad brush-stroke terms – there’s an air of long-suppressed and barely-disguised acrimony generated by the reunitement of the threesome and their portrayed interactions – here the writer plays with our expectations and sensibilities most intriguingly, imparting to each of the characters a resonant “identification-with” set of quotients in the situation, both inherited and further enlarged. Has Rose returned merely to re-ignite an affair with Robin? Has the bond between Hazel and Robin been gradually undermined by various life-events to the point of vulnerability for both? Just what is it that motivates this ground-shift on Rose’s part?

All of this evolved in a slow-burning sort of way, despite the “surprise punctuation” of Rose’s bleeding nose, seen right at the play’s beginning, but then seemingly forgotten, as the characters circled around and in and out of each other’s worlds.  Rose curiously seemed familiar with the locations of things in the house – a footstool found unhesitatingly under a chair and the drinking glasses in the right cupboard – and Hazel appeared increasingly disconcerted by Rose’s presence and pronouncements, in particular the latter’s provocative “wanting to lick a man” confession going down less than enthusiastically with her companion!)

With the arrival of Robin, Hazel’s husband, home from his work on the farm, the tensions tautened, with Robin heartily proposing he open the parsnip wine by way of celebrating Rose’s arrival, and then sending Hazel to answer the ringing ‘phone, during which time he lost little time in making “advances” to the visitor, which were gently repulsed – was this, then, the “nub” of the drama, a commonplace marital betrayal revealed for what it was?  Hazel’s revelation to us that she figured Rose HAD been in the house before, and that she knew of Robin’s and Rose’s affair seemed then to gradually but effectively deflate that particular scenario. So, where did things go from this point?

Adroitly, Kirkwood then introduced an idea whose message runs counter to the last forty years’ worth of mainstream thinking, and to the last hundred years of frantic industrialisation before that – the idea of a generation of people demonstrating responsibility, by doing something to clean up the environmental messes they themselves had created, rather than leaving future generations to do so. In answer to Robin’s half-serious remark to Rose, “So you haven’t come to seduce me?” the latter wryly replied, “No, you haven’t aged very well” – before telling him that she had returned to go back and work at the power station, and that it was her responsibility – she needed to come back and try to “clean up the mess”- not leave it to younger people who have families and their lives still to live.

What resulted from this statement and Rose’s subsequent invitation to both Robin and Hazel to “join her” in her mission formed the “near-divine-comedy” which followed – in an interview I watched AFTER seeing the play Kirkwood made it clear that she wasn’t interested in creating a theatrical scenario featuring younger people ACCUSING their elders of creating environmental chaos and leaving it for others after them to clean up – she sought instead the idea of demonstrating responsibility and awareness in a world where individuals often feel powerless – like children, in fact – which the playwright stressed was the gist of the play’s title, the fact that the characters themselves are the children, in the state of what it is to be a child in their powerlessness.

What they all do in the face of Rose’s proposal is individually and collectively run a gamut of emotion and subsequent action and interaction that “work out” their stances, expectations and fears – this “working out” includes physical confrontation (more blood), scenes of recrimination, sequences of music and dance, and even yoga routines, all mirroring either stances, enlargements of consciousness or shifting of attitudes, come what might from it all. It has something of the ancient  idea of “in death there is life” about it all, perhaps the “children” within each of these extremely flawed individuals finding themselves again and in their own unique versions of selflessness achieving their true purpose.

No praise for each of the performers can be too high – they inhabited, in fact, burgeoned within their respective roles, drawing us into identifications with this and that aspect of their characters with surprising sympathy and lasting resonance. These “everyperson” qualities were reinforced by costume choices that fitted each character like a glove, and supported by set designs which underlined the strictures of their situation. Both sound and lighting effects brought potent reminders of these same territories, transporting our sensibilities to “other realms” as surely and as resoundingly as anything I’ve recently seen at Circa. Director Susan Wilson, along with everybody else involved with this production, would surely have been well pleased with both its intrinsic impact and its reception.

(Until 27th April 2019)

Soloists steal the show with Mozart’s K.364 at Wellington Chamber Orchestra’s inspiring concert

Posted on by Steven Sedley

Wellington Chamber Orchestra presents:

MENDELSSOHN – Overture “Ruy Blas” Op.95
MOZART – Sinfonia Concertante in E-flat Major for violin, viola and orchestra K.364
BRAHMS – Symphony No. 1 in C Minor Op.68

Soloists: Monique Lapins (violin) and Gillian Ansell (viola)
Conductor: Rachel Hyde
Wellington Chamber Orchestra

St.Andrew’s on The Terrace Church
Wellington

Sunday, 7 April, 2:30 pm

Being part of an orchestra of some 60 players is a wonderfully uplifting experience for an amateur or semi-professional musician. You get carried away with the flow of the music, you are part of a large team with a common purpose. You do your best, you put your heart and soul into the music. You don’t set out to compete with the great symphony orchestras, you do it for your own love of music and you perform for your family, your friends, and those who make a point of supporting your endeavours. St. Andrews, where the audience is close to the orchestra and can feel part of the action is just the right venue for such a concert.

 

The highlight of this occasion was Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante with the soloists, Monique Lapins, violin, and Gillian Ansell, viola, the two middle voices of the NZ String Quartet. It was a rare opportunity to hear these well-known musicians step out from their ensemble and show their skills as soloists. This is a major work with great depth, at times with reminders of the dramatic moments of the operas. The two string instruments, the soprano and the alto, engage in a dialogue above the symphonic foundation of the orchestra. The two soloists played with deep understanding, bouncing melodic passages off each other, with a twinkle in their eyes reflecting Mozart’s humour, but also with with passion when that was called for in the slow movement. Elegance is the word that springs to mind to describe their performance. Their playing lifted the playing of the whole orchestra.

 

Brahms’s First Symphony is a challenge for any orchestra, and to their great credit the Wellington Chamber Orchestra did it justice. They produced a lovely tone that captured Brahms’s rich chords, with fine wind playing and rich string sounds. Rachel Hyde conducted it at a controlled, restrained, spacious tempo that let the powerful melodies soar. It was a great experience for players and listeners alike.

 

The Mendelssohn overture set the mood for the concert. Unfortunately the acoustics of the church did not favour the orchestra. The sound of the wind and brass reverberated and overwhelmed the strings and the subtlety and the lyricism of the work was somewhat lost. This is the downside of a venue at which the audience feels almost part of the orchestra. With all that however, this was a most enjoyable concert.

 

 

Cantoris, with Thomas Nikora, brings life to Faure, and Rutter to life

Posted on by Peter Mechen

GABRIEL FAURE – Requiem Op.48
Cantique de Jean Racine Op.11

JOHN RUTTER – Gloria (1974)

Soloists : Erica Leahy, soprano / Morgan King ,bass-baritone  (Faure)  – Shirleen Oh, soprano / Viv Hurnen, mezzo-soprano / Ruth Sharman, alto (Rutter)
Cantoris Choir
Thomas Nikora (Musical Director)
Jonathan Berkahn (piano and organ)

Wesley Church, Taranaki St.,
WELLINGTON

Saturday 6th April 2019

Gabriel Faure’s Requiem, with its relatively intimate, and gentle, largely non-confrontational utterances receives frequent church performance by non-professional choirs in a version with organ accompaniment (there are various other versions extant of the work, two of which are scored with varying orchestral forces, details of which are too impossibly convoluted to even comment on). I’m mentioning this circumstance because I frequently go away from such performances feeling “short-changed” as to the vital contribution of the “instrumental” parts to the work’s overall effect. In short, I usually find organ-only accompaniments of this music somewhat pallid and unduly reverential, but which, I’m happy to say, wasn’t the case in this latest Cantoris performance of the work.

Here, from the beginning, we were made aware of the organ being a real “player” in realising the music’s expressive capacities, rather than being relegated to a dutiful accompanying role. Organist Jonathan Berkahn’s first, attention-grabbing chord made us prick up our ears at the start, establishing from the outset a kind of vital ebb-and-flow between voices and instrument, even if the player’s tones were momentarily (and uncharacteristically) too loud in places during the opening Introit, during the men’s “et lux perpetua luceat eis” (perpetual light shine upon them), blunting the contrast of the REAL outburst at the end of that section. That moment was, thankfully, the exception rather than the rule – and I was able to enjoy almost unreservedly the many different instrumental ‘terracings” of dynamics and colourings of the tones and textures brought out by Berkahn right throughout the rest of the work.

The choir’s tonal resources were beautifully “shepherded” throughout the Requiem’s course by musical director Thomas Nikora, with the individual voices often clearly audible, though always “complemented” by other voice- strands. And the voices often surprised with their capacities to give more and more, as in the repeated prayer “O Domine, Jesu Christe…” (O Lord, Jesus Christ) in the Offertorium (Faure, incidentally, adding an “O” to the original prayer’s beginning), its repetitions gaining telling weight and increasing urgency each time, the basses beautifully reinforcing the third supplication.

The bass-baritone, Morgan King, continued the supplications with his “Hostias et preces” (We offer unto Thee), true and solid, with the accompanying organ timbres here sounding so “reedy” and right. A slight hesitation marked the singer’s “Fac eas, Domine” (Allow them, O Lord), but apart from a touch of strain in his difficult ascent, he held his line steadfastedly. And what celestial outpourings from the choir at the return of “O Domine”, the sopranos making up for some slight obtrusiveness at their first entries, with some sweetly-realised “Amens”.

After a touch of “Ready, steady, go!” the Sanctus began, the organ notes rippling beautifully and the exchanges between sopranos and tenors accurate and sweet in their tuning, despite the few voice-numbers  – again, at the Hosannas, the sopranos soared truly and sweetly, while the organ mustered its resources to augment the mighty vocal declamations of “Hosanna in excelsis!” – I still wanted more organ “grunt” with the triumphant  horn-call, but otherwise the instrument was a worthy foil for the voices, who were giving it heaps! All most satisfying – one felt that one had certainly been in a “Hosanna” by the end!

The famous “Pie Jesu” (Merciful Jesus) solo was here delivered affectingly and truly by soprano Erica Leahy, the words slightly “covered”, and the organ here and there a wee bit over bearing – but the notes were truly and sweetly floated and held for our pleasure and wonderment, everything most easefully directed by Nikora. After this I thought his “Agnus Dei” (Lamb of God) a wee bit brisk – though perhaps he was wanting to re-activate movement after the “heavenly stasis” of the “Pie Jesu”. The tenors did sterling work, here, holding their line truly, the organ, though momentarily “jumping the gun” with the registrations for the choir’s anguished repetitions of “Agnus Dei”, certainly conveying in tandem with the voices the turmoil of the human soul in begging forgiveness for “the sins of the world”.

The sopranos kept their “held” note beautifully as the music began the slow chromatic harmonic descent at “Lux aeterna luceat eis” (whose motions always remind me of Wagner’s depiction of Wotan’s kissing his daughter Brunnhilde’s eyes shut towards the end of Act Three of “Die Walkure”) – we heard beautiful organ colourings of the textures as the music sank resignedly then rose again in supplication – very dramatic! A great outburst from the organ, and the Requiem’s opening made its reappearance, the voices confident and full-toned, the cries of “Luceat eis” making a heartfelt contrast with he serenity of the organ postlude.

“Libera me” (Deliver me) opened with baritone Morgan King’s strong, focused voice, conveying the foreboding of the text with  great feeling, the choir’s tremulous responses at “Tremens factus” (With fear and trembling) leading to a tremendous outburst of fear and anguish with “Dies illa, dies irae” (That day, the day of anger), building their tones excitingly, and then just as effectively “hollowing” their voices when reprising the “Libera Me”, the organ contributing a suitably bell-tolling backdrop to the choir’s unison, and the baritone reliably completing the echoing supplication. Finally came the “In Paradisum” (the words lifted from  the “Order of Burial” by the composer) – a quickish tempi set by Nikora resulted in the textures bubbling rather than floating, but the effect was just as magical and celestial. I thought the sopranos “carried the day” here with their pure, angelic voices, aided by the lower-toned support of the rest of the choir, and concluding with their murmured replies of “Requiem” at the work’s end.

A popular “coupling” for the Requiem on recordings has always been the comparatively brief but mellifluous Cantique de Jean Racine, given here as a kind of first-half “epilogue” to the larger work. Written much earlier (1864-65), Faure named the piece after the famous writer, who, in 1688 had written a text in French paraphrasing the original Ambrosian-style Latin Hymn Consors paterni luminis (O Light of Light), the young composer’s efforts winning him a prize at the school he was currently attending in Paris. Like the Requiem, the Cantique exists in different versions, having been arranged with various instrumental acompaniments by the composer, including orchestral forces – here a piano joined forces with the organ to complement the voices.

I thought the performance quite lovely, the piece’s long-breathed melodies and gradually-accumulated waves of sound admirably voiced by all sections of the choir, the undulating textures supporting some impassioned moments alongside ever-resonating transparent textures, beautifully-floated soprano voices working in tandem with the deeper sounds of the remaining singers. I thought the singers’ chording towards the piece’s end especially rich and satisfying.

John Rutter’s Gloria I didn’t know before this concert, and I found it an invigorating and rewarding experience. I loved the massively-conceived, almost “Twentieth-Century-Fox” introduction to the work, unreservedly conveying the sense of something grand and mighty about to be visited on all present! The opening words, of course, spoke for themselves in this respect  “Gloria in Excelsis Deo!” (Glory to God in the Highest), the following “Et in terra pax” (And peace on earth) more suitably earthbound, humbler in expression…..both the sopranos and tenors throughout this first part of the music had markedly exposed entries into the “fray”, and each group did so well, everybody true-voiced and keeping their line under Thomas Nikora’s watchful direction, the altos coping especially well with their more angular version of what the sopranos had sung previously, at “Propter magnam gloriam tuam” (We give You thanks for Your boundless glory).  The return of the opening “Gloria” brought out what I thought a Walton-like vigour in the writing, more than a bit “jazzy” here and there – and concluding the first part of the work with a flourish!

Rutter structured the setting in three separate movements each with a specific character – after the joyous energies of the first movement, the second part “Domine Deus” (Lord God), marked andante, saluted the Almighty in calm, gently-expressed birdsong tones from the organ at the outset, almost voluntary-like in its direct lyrical appeal, while serving also as an ambient counterpoint to the voices’ devotional utterances, the men beginning and then joined by the women, in “Domine Deus Rex caelestis” (Lord God, King of Heaven). The movement progressed from quiet simple adoration to joyous acclaim supplication as the music proceeded, the organ moving through its “chorale” in tandem with the avian figurations – a lovely, atmospheric effect. Beginning with a second, and then a third “Domine Deus” which led to the words “Agnus Dei, Filius Patris” (“Lamb of God, Son of the Father”), the voices built the intensities inexorably towards a most joyous acclaim, contrasting the mood vividly and tellingly with the following rapt, withdrawn tones of “Qui tollis peccata mundi” (Who takest away the sins of the world). Shirleen Oh’s clear, steady soprano made a telling effect at “Miserere nobis” (Have mercy on us), as did the solo voices of mezzo Viv Hurnen and alto Ruth Sharman in duet, a few moments later, with “Suscipe deprecationem nostram” (Receive our prayer), adding to the raptness of the ambience.

Even more Walton-like was the third movement’s punchy opening, syncopated and jazzy, piano and organ rollicking along with the voices through the various “Quoniams” as the music drove irresistibly forwards, the music’s angularities setting the different strands tingling with excitement the whole while. The “Amens” began to build towards the inevitable climax, the singers sounding part-purposeful, part free-spirited, kept focused by their music director’s unflagging energy and the organ’s mighty presence! In what seemed like no time at all the “Amens” had crested the hilltop and proclaimed victory, to the delight of the organ and piano, everybody then breaking into a reprise of the “Gloria”, the atmosphere festive and almost crazy in its effervescent joy, the performance’s energies enabling the music to properly catch fire and leave both musicians and audience exhaustedly happy at the end!

 

 

 

 

Exhilarating piano duet delight at St Andrew’s lunchtime concert

Posted on by Steven Sedley

The Blue Danube and Duo Enharmonics

Duo Enharmonics – Nicole Chao and Beth Chen (Piano music for 4 hands)

St. Andrews on the Terrace

Wednesday 3 April, 12:15 pm

Some years ago both Nicole Chao and Beth Chen studied with Thomas Hecht at the New Zealand School of Music. They formed a piano duo partnership and have been close friends ever since. They went overseas, studied further, came back, and carried on playing together.

Four hands playing on one keyboard is a very difficult form of chamber music. There is no contrast, no different tone colour or timbre to separate or contrast the voices. The two pianists have to think and play like one. Such unanimity was evident in this concert. It started with Debussy’s charming, well known Petite Suite, though better known in its orchestral version. It is a playful piece and was played with lovely sonority and clear phrasing.

Then came the huge, taxing, four-hand version of the first movement of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. I imagined the two friends, very accomplished pianists, getting together and saying ‘Let’s have some fun’. ‘What can we play to test the limits of the piano?’ and they opted for The Rite of Spring. The one piano, four hands, has to capture the vast kaleidoscopic range of a large orchestra, with its full tonal and colour range. The music moves from powerful, loud, fast passages to contrasting gentle, lyric melodies. Nicole Chao and Beth Chen played with forceful energy, and captured the magic of the ballet.

This challenging work left the audience with a sense of exhilaration. But that was not all. The concert was capped with Greg Anderson’s arrangement of the Blue Danube Waltz. Forget a gentle cruise down the Danube, or twirling to the tune of a gentle waltz in some crystal illuminated ballroom. Greg Anderson completely deconstructed the well known work of Johann Strauss. He embraced Heavy Metal, popular American music, and a whole range of contemporary sounds with rhythmic echos of old Vienna.

It was great fun. Let’s have more of this, let’s hear this talented pair again.