Curtains Up Winnipeg

Opera. If you ask most people, they will describe it making reference to grand spectacles and big voices. Those in the know might hum a few bars of Ride of the Valkyries or Carmen’s habanera solo, a testament to how deep the operatic tradition is integrated into our culture. If the vast majority of people are honest, more than a few will tell you they got most of their information from Bugs Bunny cartoons…Everything about opera is grandiose. Those who want to mock it talk about its melodramatic storytelling and over the top spectacle, little understanding that these are the things that draw opera fans in. Opera is divisive, but it also an art form that offers an emotional complexity rarely found elsewhere. In other words, you really have to experience it for yourself. Simply hearing a few bars of an aria on a car commercial is not enough to appreciate everything that goes into this strange and complex world.

Manitoba Opera Company is going to be opening The Marriage of Figaro tomorrow. This is one of those classic pieces from the opera canon that can usually be guaranteed a good audience. What’s not to like? Mozart wrote the musical score, which is both beautiful and charming. Then we have the story of Figaro and Susanna, a couple of servants for the count who are getting married. Except that the count is a little too enthusiastic about getting close to Figaro’s bride… cue the chaos. It is one of those shows my classical music loving grandfather would have pinpointed as a good introduction to the genre. It’s light, it’s fun, it’s a little risqué and you don’t need to much background knowledge to enter into the world of the characters.

Opera is also a really interesting example of something that is essentially multilingual. Which is something of interest here at a bilingual theatre blog. Written by a writer and artist who is a bonified language nerd.

Take The Marriage of Figaro for one. Here we have a show which is based on a French stage play, La folle journée, ou le Mariage de Figaro by Beaumarchais. Got that? French origins. Then it gets turned into an opera libretto in which song lyrics are written… in Italian, by Lorenzo Da Ponte. Then the music gets written by Mozart, an Austrian whose native language is German. Finally, this show becomes so popular over time it travels all over the world to audiences who don’t speak Italian. Which means that when you are sitting in the audience at the opera in Winnipeg, this show has already gone through four separate languages to reach you. Tell me that isn’t a little bit cool?

I recently had the opportunity to talk to Manitoba Opera’s Director of Production Sheldon Johnson who writes the projected English translations for the show. These are the texts that indicate the content of what the singers are singing, or what allows an English speaking audience in Winnipeg who would like to, as Johnson explains, “take away something from from the experience of seeing the show more than just listening to the pretty music … they are essential in following the story” As our interview made abundantly clear, they are an absolutely integral part of the opera viewing experience, something that allows people to connect across languages, culture and even time.

You might be interested to discover that there is a lot more to surtitles than projecting a few words on a screen. Back in the day when opera companies began using them, they were physical slides which were purchased or borrowed from other opera companies. In other words, smaller productions were at the mercy of the big houses that had the budget to create them and then make small tweaks as needed. Nowadays, they are created on a Power Point which makes it easier to adapt text as needed. This is important as many companies may choose to shorten longer shows or make other tweaks as needed. This is show biz, after all.

For this production, it is the exclusive work of Sheldon Johnson to make them. Which is not as simple as it may seem. Ask any multilingual person, poetry and song lyrics are by far the hardest things to translate. Nuanced metaphors and the subtleties of words just don’t like getting crunched into a foreign vocabulary. Forget the fact there is a whole story going on that needs to be communicated and there is not a lot of space. Then the audience doesn’t have a lot of time to read without straining their necks. Not to mention the sheer amount of repetition in operatic librettos means a word-for-word translation would leave you feeling like the Power Point is broken. Or that there are often multiple singers singing at the same time and “when when you have uh six people on stage all singing different words at the same time you have to you know figure out who’s saying the most important thing”. Also, for a medium with a grandiose emotional palette, there are a lot of songs with incredibly trivial lyrics.

In other words, surtitles are just as much of an art form as costumes, set design, props, vocal arrangements and all the other things that make opera happen. Nobody would want a Google translated text (also Google translate should be used sparingly but I will leave that lecture for later). What we want is the essentials, the key bits that help us understand the narrative as we are watching the show without losing our immersion in the operatic world. Johnson uses word for word translations done by others as reference, but ultimately has to break down what needs to be said when in consideration of the music. He explains that the job would be impossible to do without a knowledge of music as the surtitle maker needs to consider where in the song is an appropriate time to cue the next one. It responds and engages with the music to keep people’s attention where it should be: on stage.

Then there is the actual job of using surtitles during a production. This is the time where “somebody has to sit there and follow along and advance to the next slide” in response to the pace of the singers and the rhythms . Every single cue is written out. Every single performance is made possible by a human being sitting in the back clicking along slides, a job which requires intense focus and the ability to adapt. It requires a sensitivity to both the music and the performance. Not exactly a passive device; this is skilled work.

In this time in the world, there is a lot of talk about all the things we can delegate to AI. Thankfully, there are still places like surtitling that require a very human ability to respond and adapt beyond the capabilities of any random generator. There is no substitute for live performance, the raw feeling of being in the presence of other humans creating an intangible story just for you. There is no computer equivalent of sharing the experience of being in an audience that has seen something magical. And interestingly enough, there is no real substitute in the opera for a human being figuring out what text you need to follow the story. It requires judgement and creativity.

Opera is an amazing example of an art form where the experience of going in person is incomparable. If you can open yourself to it, it’s possible to feel something profound. This is rich artistic tradition full of grandiosity and frivolity, improbable stories and touching moments of intimacy.

Not to mention the pretty songs. Those are good too.

Four performers descend the stairs into a mysterious space full of storage crates. Some preliminary flexes with visuals cues you in to the fact that lights are going to be another actor in this show. In vibrant coloured costumes, the characters undertake a journey of discovering the mysterious space. They open one box and then another, interacting with what it revealed before passing to the next. It was nicely paced, starting from small vignettes and then moving to more choreographed dance numbers. At its best children’s theatre is exploratory and sensory in a way adult theatre stops short of and this was very much in that tradition. It was also very Montréal in its blend of physical theatre, dance, contortion, and general multidisciplinary multimedia goodness. It is breathtaking how much skill it takes for a production to come across as this playful. It is an extremely cohesive piece.

This time I was fortunate enough to see the show with not only Eli, my usual children’s theatre consultant, but also her brother William and my best friend. What was interesting in comparing our experiences was how diverse our interpretations of what happened in the show. We all agreed the performers were playing, exploring and trying things out, but beyond that we disagreed about where it was situated. To me it was the basement of a theatre, but Eli figured it was a warehouse and William was sure it was in their grandparent’s house. Whatever we saw in it, it speaks to the power of their descent into the performance space. There are very few words, but you don’t miss them.

When I say the lighting stole the show, this is no slight to any of the performers – it was just that good. I’ve never seen another production use lights in such an interactive way where you have people dance with beams and within structures. According to Eli, ““It’s very cool and fun how they used the lights to enhance the story… I honestly don’t know (what it reminded me of) because it was a whole thing of it’s own”. The interactivity gave the show the feel of a video game in which you had to “resolve” problems to move on. This combined well with the kinetic scenes to create something completely one of a kind. It was also hard to get bored because there was always something new and wacky around the corner.

Both children’s consultants ranked it as “Good”, although Eli specified that she preferred Tad and Birdy. It’s worth mentioning that the two other kids we were with also gave it a thumbs up. What I did notice though was that Eli didn’t have the sense of raw delight in the show that I’ve seen in her before. That also fits with my feelings. This is innovative, skillful, smart and fun, but for me it lacked the emotional core that makes a show really exceptional to watch. I’d almost more recommend it for adults who like physical theatre and non-verbal narratives just because it is so well made and beautifully constructed. Still, if you have a screen addicted youngster this show may just have the right kind of storytelling for this generation. And you get to admire the skillful performances!

Besides, as William said: “anything is better than doom scrolling”.

Marry Henry VIII when you’re madly in love with someone else and your country is in absolute political and religious turmoil and the only heir is a sickly boy? What could possibly go wrong? Or right? The Last Wife tells the highly fictionalized story of Katherine Parr, the as mentioned last wife of Henry VIII, and how she impacted the royal milieu she was thrust in. If you know anyone who reads historical fiction by the stack, loves Shakespeare interpreted in modern times, or is just really deep into all things tudors – they probably need to know about this piece. It will play delightfully to an older audience who had this history drilled into their heads. Or, unfortunately, anyone who thinks stories from European history automatically have ‘universal appeal’ and expect that most people know them. Be aware that this show is not going to hit as hard if you don’t have some background knowledge going in.

Katherine Parr is not yet a widow when the story begins. Actually, point of fact she’s waiting in the wings for her elderly husband to die so she more openly embrace Thomas Seymour. Unfortunately the boorish Henry VIII comes around to literally present her with an offer she can’t refuse, although she does try to negotiate a little. The deal is she has to educate his heir, Edward, and you know, do all those good female things including sex. Their relationship grows both closer, more intimate, and (in my opinion) significantly more messed up, but of course nothing and no one is a match for Katherine the Great! Wait… wrong historical period… She even gets Henry, or ‘Hal’ to accept his daughters as legitimate! While offering some very saccharine 1950’s style messaging about how they are ‘a family’ now. (I mean, Tudor families continually try to kill each other, so I don’t think that word meant or means what you think it does). Also, because Katherine is just that amazing, she also does smart things in the war and everyone comes to appreciate her. Including Thomas Seymore, who is with us until the end. Spoiler alert: she changed history and made everything better for women. Standing ovation time. Cue the sales at McNally for history and historical fiction books about the Tudors. This show will make a lot of people happy. And the cast and crew deserve that, because they created a solid cohesive show where everyone does their part.

The events are grounded in historical fact but located in the present. The scenery hits notes of Tudor, but the costumes and dialogue are pure modern. This aspect of the show was very effective. Like a really good Shakespeare adaptation, it drew the events and tensions into conversations about the modern day. Also, it was aestheticaly pleasing. The costuming of Katherine Parr was particularly effective, as she was always dressed in clean lines and deceptively simply cut dresses which created contrast between the fussy detailing of other characters. It made her stand out as exceptional -more about that later. Generally every character stuck to a single colour, making them striking against the stark beauty of the set. I particularly like the shifts between Elizabeth’s frilly white girly dresses towards cleaner and more adult expressions. I hated what they did with the character of Mary Queen of Scots, but I thought her gothic lace and crucifix were on point.

Also, Henry VIII is uncomfortably humanized. And surprisingly willing to be led by her, although the show does seem to suggest this is more to do with her being really pretty than her brains. (Sorry but they did not sell me on that one) The acting offers solid interpretations of each character which work with the story the show is telling. It’s also a great show to throw a big production budget at. The direction is great. The costumes and set are great. The acting is on point. My technical brain delighted in all the little nuances brought into everything. And yet.

Where they lost me was with the script itself. And yet I found the play itself so profoundly irritating that they lost me fairly early on. My friend and co-critic Skylar Bélanger was in fine form with the quips, but I think his most on point might have been ‘white woman girl boss feminism’. I was deeply annoyed with how perfect and smart and capable Katherine was. Watch how beautiful and elegant she is! Look, she’s educated and writes books! Oh, she tamed the terrible Henry VIII into someone tolerable! She treats his leg with advanced science! She becomes a mother to royal orphans who now love her so much! Now she’s got strategic smarts! What a woman! Let’s seriously not talk about how her power comes from manipulating her husband with her beauty, and ok, some brains. This is not the feminist achievement we want to believe.

I am so incredibly bored with stories about exceptional heroic impossibly capable people. It feels like a superhero comic for people who wouldn’t be caught dead reading superhero comics. It’s boring, and it’s a tired narrative device, and I want something else. Honestly, she WAS a product of her time, because we all are. What would be wrong about actually examining how women at the time lived without making her into what people want a modern woman to be? Why aren’t characters allowed to have realistic human limits? Especially ones that are based on historical figures?

So there you have it. This play is both well constructed and beautifully executed… while also telling a story that makes me absolutely crazy with its abuse of tired old tropes about AMAZING and EXCEPTIONAL women. I am an extremely strong feminist and want nothing more than stories with a female perspective. This does not meet that need. I want emotional honesty and nuanced characters. That is not met by just taking one of a handful of already known historical women and making her an unrealistic paragon of all things amazing and womanly.

Everyone in this production deserved a better script.

The fire is real. So is the fear. Three men go into the woods away from their reserve to light a sacred fire for a friend who has recently died. None are overly outdoorsy, and despite growing up together their experiences have varied widely. Dale is your doubter who never left, Shane stayed, and George left but remembers the teachings of the grandfather who raised him. All are united in the belief that this ceremony matters enough to justify their increasing discomfort. The script captures the blend of trivial and meaningful conversations that go on between old friends. In a masterful set designed by Adam Parboosingh, the woods lean in to you, creating a world of shadow and menace that may just let in things beyond the pale. Kudos to whoever fought for the fire. It makes a definite difference.

The premise is not that unusual: old friends in the woods tell scary stories. We all know these tropes all too well. The mind does strange things in the dark. Nothing is as it seems. Got it. What makes this production different is the high stakes that are at play with the characters. As we are reminded from the beginning, these stories of the supernatural often come from a context where humans were facing starvation. These come from the experiences of people facing terrors far more frightening and primal than what a Hollywood visual effects studio could produce. Likewise, Dale, Shane and George are there because of the death of someone who faced their own demons. The impending sense of danger is potent because it comes from a real place.

I saw this show opening night in which casts are often still finding their groove. That said, there were a number of moments in which it was hard to forget that we were seeing a play and fully suspend disbelief. As soon as the characters told a story, I was immersed, but sometimes in the interactions between them I was aware I was watching an actor say lines. The script was strong, and it did give you the authentic feel of old friendship. I would have liked a little more tension between the three, but that is absolutely nitpicking. I think it was a good choice to keep the play short since it allowed the momentum to build quickly without getting dragged on in minutiae.

After yesterday’s show they had a talk back. Honestly, I enjoyed it as much if not more than the show. If you can catch a performance with on, it’s well worth your time. The ensemble talked about the taboos around certain beings in indigenous cultures, and how these cultural understandings informed the show. Historically, the theatre has often been seen as a spiritually tricky place where people call in deep emotions and sometimes beings and therefore need to protect themselves – this piece is a prime example of why. The show’s knowledge keeper Jhaik Windy Hair talked at length about how they integrated protection into the very process of making the play. The whole thing gave the piece roots and depths, going into the area I find more interesting than horror. Still, horror informs the play and it won’t disappoint those who love the genre.

This is the right time of year to catch this show. The moment in the year when you could just be convinced to sit outside in the cold. When it doesn’t yet feel like you’re out of the danger of winter. And when you need to light of the fire to carry you back into the brightness.