RECENT PLEASURES IN THE ARTS—FILMS, BOOKS, CDs

photo of John Whiting

I’ve seen Carol Reed’s The Third Man many times – it’s one of my favourite films, after all. But after a recent viewing, I finally decided, as well, to read Graham Greene’s “Cold War classic novella,” in which the film’s Holly Martins is Rollo Martins, and the literary version is, for me, a rather different experience from the film. And then I was pleased to discover a number of dialogue segments on the CD Third Man Original Score which, of course, features a good helping of soundtrack composer Anton Karas aka “the first man of the zither.”

Of late, I tend to dip into writers I hadn’t much explored before, one being Georges Simenon, but more often the short stories and not always the Maigret volumes, since I’ve done repeated watchings on DVD and enjoyed Michael Gambon playing the part in English and Bruno Cremer doing likewise in French. Both actors are memorable, with unique nuances in their individual interpretations, and I’m so glad I got to see Gambon, recently deceased, on stage several times. As for Simenon, much praised as an author by masters like Andre Gide, I find myself something in awe of him, especially for one in his mastery of proportion in what needs to be said.

Another writer who inspires awe is Isak Dinesen, partly because I am each time consumed by her world after only a few of her perceptive and instantly gipping sentences. She is a masterly weaver of tales and I find myself instantly woven into  her repeatedly surprising and unpredictable narratives, the latest for me being Babette’s Feast – first the humanly sensitive film and then the gently mind-expanding short story. Her characters live on several levels or within several simultaneous dimensions, as in The Immortal Story, written by Isak Dinesen and made into an equally haunting film by Orson Welles co-starring Jeanne Moreau, who also appears in his film of Kafka’s The Trial……and in the lively and heartbreaking Chimes at Midnight featuring Shakespeare’s Falstaff, played by guess who?

And talking about Orson Welles, you need to see Mark Cousins’ The Eyes of Orson Welles which turns out to be an exploration of Welles as a visual artist, and yes that means sketches and drawings too. I do hope you have had the pleasure of Mark Cousins fifteen-part series The Story of Film: An Odyssey, an extremely insightful, informative, and eye-opening account of the film medium.

When you think about heartbreaking film, try Wim Wenders quietly devastating film Paris, Texas which explores at an unyieldingly hypnotic pace the impossibility of people connecting. I don’t ever think I’ve sensed isolation as poignantly in film before, as in this work mostly penned by Sam Shepherd, although Wenders’ imagination-fueling film Wings of Desire makes many nuanced points on the experience of human solitude. So does the recently popular film Living, starring the incomparable Bill Nighy, which is based on Kurosawa’s film Ikiru, both of which pointedly dare the turf or pointless bureaucratic existence in memorable fashion.

As for Bill Nighy, I am hooked on his CD series titled A Charles Paris Mystery of which we now have seventeen, and what better companion on a long drive by car anywhere than these dramatizations of novels by Simon Brett here delivered by Nighy’s drily insinuating narrations.

I am hooked on a number of ballets I have recently seen by choreographer Roland Petit. Carmen features Nicholas Le Riche, a dancer of confident rightness who translates dramatic import into a musical but also assertive physicality, whether partnered by a ballerina or what seems the countless chairs Le Jeune Homme et la Mort. Petit’s sense of humour has a decidedly physical dimension to it and while watching we are constantly amazed at the quirky lightheartedness that Petit and his dancers can pull off. It’s the language of a master, one which I also enjoyed in his Notre Dame de Paris which featured ballerina Natalia Osipova, always magnificent in balletic flight and a favourite.

A year or so ago I made the happy discovery of Norwegian violinist Vilde Frang in the Stravinsky violin concerto on Mezzo television and immediately agreed with accompanying conductor Ivan Fischer, who said about her in his introduction, “This music is hellishly difficult for the violinist and I don’t know how Vilde Frang plays everything perfectly, everything with meaning.” One thing I later discovered in CDs of Frang playing Mozart Violin Concertos, Violin Concertos by Britten and Korngold, Beethoven and Stravinsky Violin Concertos, and Bartok, Grieg, R. Strauss: Violin Sonatas was the confidence, exquisite beauty of tone, unflinching bravery in rhythm, enchanting sense of implicit musical meaning in Frang’s playing, all without one ragged note but much – what is it? -mystical clarity.

The film Love, Cecil comprehensively explores Cecil Beaton’s always fascinating professional and personal lives, with helpful contributions from relevant friends, colleagues or informed experts. Beware that the tons of irresistible photos will compel you perhaps to purchase the oversize volume Love, Cecil: A Journey with Cecil Beaton and, no doubt, other related books like The Unexpurgated Beaton: The Cecil Beaton Diaries As They Were Written. It contains this: “Beaton wrote in his diary: “I have always loathed the Burtons for their vulgarity, commonness and crass bad taste, she combining the worst of US and English taste, he as butch and coarse as only a Welshman can be.”

The PBS blurb that once announced its program The Magic of Horowitz cannot say it all about this very special pianistic genius. Nor, in fact, can the CD Horowitz in Moscow, even with its detailed notes. But seeing parts of the recital on PBS and having pianist Daniil Trifonov declare, as we watch, that Horowitz never forces the keys, or having Martha Argerich declare that the Chopin mazurkas played by Horowitz are the “very best” provides tempting revelation.

When Argerich later declares that Horowitz is “the greatest lover the piano ever had” we watch the program again – well, over and over again, as I do – because something too special for words is going on between pianist, piano, music itself, and meaning, something it feels wondrous to experience. And I love the twinkle we get to experience in Horowitz, something I was lucky to take in first hand at a recital of his years ago at Massey Hall. He was playing his Carmen Variations and at one point hit a single note that vibrated with humour. I let out a large laugh from the ground floor seat surrounded by a reverential audience and was pleased to see in his smile that I was sharing my laugh with his twinkle, his humour.

If you weekly watch TCM’s guide to film noir, Eddie Muller, you might already be lucky to have the man’s books in your collection. Muller’s passion for film noir is thorough, his knowledge of the genre as complete as it gets, his enthusiasm for films from the dark side of the human coin infectious, and I’ve made many delicious discoveries through his hosting and programming.

In 1956 I became an usher at our neighbourhood cinema, for three years, at a time when Noir’s influence was still present as a natural force in film. As you may guess, I have a number of Muller’s books. The first, Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir, blew me away with the comfort and creativity of Muller’s voice in the Noir idiom. It indeed seemed a natural manner of speaking for him and I delighted next in Dark City: The Lost World of Fim Noir (Revised and expanded edition) which now, in larger format took on the presence of a religious tome.

Dark City Dames: The Wicked Women of Film Noir is another Muller gem but let some of the Amazon’s text speak and fill us in: “He profiles six extraordinary actresses — Jane Greer, Evelyn Keyes, Ann Savage, Coleen Gray, Audrey Totter, and Marie Windsor — as they balanced love and career, struggled against typecasting, and sought fulfillment in a ruthless business.” Dark City Dames is a priceless gem of first hand remembering of times when these ladies nudged our fantasies.

The Art of Noir: The Posters and Graphics from the Classic Era of Film Noir is another unique consideration of film noir. It addresses the visual impact of posters used to attract audiences, for one, but also includes comparisons, from culture to culture, of how a film was perceived in each. The comparisons of specific emphasis from culture to culture are always revelations into the nitty-gritty of each cultural bias, especially that of North Americans. The designers of these posters were speaking to many a subconsciousness, weren’t they?

In brief, a few more recommends: Prine on Prine: Interviews and Encounters with John Prine by Holly Gleason  is an informative read at every turn, one that certainly takes the reader into the heartbeat of John Prine and makes him or her into an even more appreciative listener.

When I saw two performances of My Name is Rachel Corrie twice in London in 2005, I discovered that it was a play composed from Corrie’s journals and emails from Gaza and compiled by actor Alan Rickman and journalist Katharine Viner, later in a production directed by Rickman. Corrie, an American, had been crushed to death. by an Israeli bulldozer during her attempt to stop the demolitions of Palestinian homes by Israelis, and Rickman discusses Rachel Corrie and much else in Madly, Deeply: The Diaries of Alan Rickman, page by page a humanly rewarding read by Alan Rickman, Rima Horton, et al.

Literary, you say? Of late I’ve been dipping into the poems of Paul Eluard in both French and English, Pablo Neruda, Rumi but not in all translations some of which seem intrusions in a New Age voice, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova, and The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton.

Drama? Last summer I asked Tim Carroll, the artistic director of the Shaw Festival, if we would ever see a play by British playwright John Whiting on the festival stage and discovered that his favourite Whiting play is A Penny for a Song. I haven’t read Whiting since I studied him extensively while doing my M.A. in Drama in the early 1970’s, so here I am again reading A Penny for a Song and hoping it is on the Festival’s agenda for imminent production.

The play is gently “Empire” in tone, depiction and manner, and only an attuned director like Tim Carroll might bring it into unselfconscious, crisply moving, good-naturedly British, existence. I chuckled as I read the text and would very much like to see what the source of so much chuckle looks like on stage, in the original version of the play, and what both director and actors must do to keep an audience engaged and entertained. These characters all have their unending exits and their entrances, and how, I finally wonder, will Whiting and the production maintain connection with us, of another culture, in our own brand of dottiness.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

CROW’S THEATRE DOES AN UNFORGETTABLE UNCLE VANYA AT THEATRE AQUARIUS UNTIL JANUARY 27

Back in 1994, while in the middle of several intense writing projects, I took ten days in London as a needed sanity break. In turn, I ended up at the at the Royal National Theatre sharing eye level with the cast, one which included Judi Dench and Bill Nighy rolling around at one point in lusty if awkward embrace. The play was Chekhov’s The Seagull.

Nighy was Trigorin the writer, and each time he described, in that pinched sort of whine that Nighy can conjure at will, Trigorin’s perplexed state of mind during a befuddled process of creativity, I laughed loudly from the belly. Trigorin was describing familiar turf I had, that very evening, gone to theatre to escape. Later, when the cast took their bows, I stood in front of Nighy, gave him “two thumbs up, and he winked at me in response.

More locally and more recently, Crow’s Theatre does an unforgettable Uncle Vanya at Theatre Aquarius until January 27, after which it transfers to Toronto’s CAA Theatre from February 2-25. This production achieves much of what fine work in theatre can offer, and let me count but a few of the reasons I urge you to go see it.

To begin, director Chris Abraham and his cast achieve a world into which each inner life of an audience can segue, willing or not, with ease. We recognize these characters as much as we are willing, in our own self-deceptions, in our own existential torments, to acknowledge ourselves. These Chekhovian characters live individual lives and we in the audience live distinct lives, and over and over a life on stage overlaps with the watcher’s life.

Now try acting Chekhov as a Taoist, as many in this cast seem able to do as they “work without doing.” Chekhov the playwright suffers as a genuine explorer into humanity whenever his acted characters become self-consciously realized and remote from us. However, one beauty of Abraham’s production is how we can’t compactly describe any character, we can’t point at them and judge them. They are what they are, and so we are what we are, all of us bound to be here – and who knows what to say about it?

One joy of a humanly honest production of Chekhov is not to feel acted at, and such is true in this case. We feel we are living with these people and that gradually we need to pull back, emotionally drained as we are. We gradually feel more and more weighed down but rarely, oddly, do we isolate the actors’ art already so well-honed and then subtly guided into being the reality we here experience. Judi Dench once explained for me how, on the other hand, Laurence Olivier was quite conscious of the effects he was having on his audience. This Vanya cast, however, keeps it all unaffected and real.

I always cringe when I read that a play I’m going to see is “adapted” since, too often, such designation merely seems to mean playing selections of popular music to help a contemporary audience understand how a given play is ‘relevant.’ Liisa Repo-Martell’s adaptation, happily, feels genuinely present and humanly authentic through the words spoken by these characters. My mother’s mother was Ukrainian, her father Polish, and as a kid I heard many relatives in conversation, and it was quite natural to imagine these characters presented by Repo-Martell as both Slavic and English-speaking.

The “lived-in” set of this Uncle Vanya, created by Julie Fox and Joshua Quinlan  does convey daily human presence. It’s a space where various humans make their physical and emotional way and make an atmospheric mark on their surroundings. Kimberly Purtell’s lighting accentuates and seems to echo many inner lives. We as watchers feel compelled to inhabit this space, to interact with it, and like  Chekhov’s characters be made, body and emotion, by it.

It’s a sign of an emotionally rich production, like this Uncle Vanya, that the play’s characters continue to unfold when one has returned to mundane concerns. One has gained new insights, unlidded some emotions, and also been set to rethinking individuals one knows or has known. A line that separates Chekhov’s characters and the people who inhabit one’s life becomes less precise, even non-existent. It also can be unsettling the way a Chekhovian character seems to inhabit one’s mirror, as one shaves perhaps, and says, “We are one and the same.”

Yes, I do connect with these characters. For one, I feel I run into Marina from time to time, maybe buying groceries, and again appreciate the unaffected earthiness that Carolyn Fe brings to the part. I have worked with and been impressed in past years by a person like the subtly realized Astrov, played by Ali Kazmi, and found that, for all his dedication, ideals, and passions, he is still unreachably alone, and can’t do anything about it. Or Shannon Taylor’s inwardly wandering Yelena, gently underplayed, who never has the goods for – if indeed she wants it – human connection.

I once had a publisher much like Eric Peterson’s dynamically-realized Alexandre, a man of public stature in his field, big-mouthed, and, as we are reminded by Vanya, superficial and shallow. Each character we here meet, however, is, in truth, as much an unknown as a person of identifiable qualities. The emotionally charged and emotionally suppressed Sonya of Liisa Reo-Martell is one. Her declaration that ends the play is so ripe with longing and hopelessness that, on listening, one’s heart quietly breaks. But who is she?

Tom Rooney’s Uncle Vanya, in his frustrations, social clumsiness, and implicit sense of pointlessness, does seem a quiet and nuanced summary of Chekhov’s work. In this dead-end and long burned-out existence of his, Vanya carries on because, in most cases, that’s what one does with one’s life.

One does laugh too, out loud or simply with one’s eyes, although humour is not present in all Chekhov productions because too many non-Slavs would probably not understand it, not get it even as they live it. Once in the factory where I worked one summer, a Ukrainian welder came over to ask, “How come a chicken drinks water and doesn’t pee?” See what I mean?

So, do see Chris Abraham’s production, and think about what’s going on. We live in perilous times when murder is often unquestioned, often even declared as justified. These characters are real people in front of you. Are they, with all their flaws, worth saving?

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

ANNA-JULIA DAVID: SOPRANO HAS “A DREAM COME TRUE” AS SHE DEBUTS WITH OPERA ATELIER AS AMOUR IN GLUCK’S ORPHEUS AND EURIDYCE – OCTOBER 26 TO NOVEMBER 1 AT TORONTO’S ELGIN THEATRE

JAMES STRECKER: In what specific ways is preparation for your upcoming Amour in Orpheus and Eurydice a fairly easy process and in what ways is it difficult? Why is this so?

ANNA-JULIA DAVID: The role of Amour is quite short and sweet. (Amour only appears at the beginning and the ending of the opera)

It’s challenging to make a huge impact in such a short amount of time. However, in this case I enter on the newly built flying machine designed by Gerard Gauci. And it’s quite an entrance!

The music itself is very beautiful, but it can also be quite challenging as it is very transparent and exposed.

Doing this role is a fairly new process for me, and I do feel the entire responsibility on my shoulders.

It is not only me singing in front of an audience in a stunning theatre, but it is the whole process of bringing to life the story of Orphée et Eurydice, of making and sharing with the public a beautiful and memorable show. I am just a little piece of the puzzle and I am incredibly lucky to work with amazing people that believe in me and are ready to guide me.

JS: How would you describe doing this character as a significant experience in your creative life?

A-J D: I watched Opera Atelier productions from a very young age. I always loved how beautiful the performances were and enjoyed the historical period productions. So, it is a dream come true that this is happening. I have always wanted to work with Marshall Pynkoski and Jeanette Lajeunesse Zingg.

The role of Amour is also my debut role and it is a huge learning curve for me, but I am so grateful to Mireille Asselin and Colin Ainsworth for their support and their pieces of wisdom along the way. They are true legends and it is such an honour for me to sing with them. And to David Fallis and Christopher Bagan for their musical guidance and patience.

JS: Let’s go over some of your background. You have studied piano at the Royal Conservatory (Grade 10 Honours, the last I’ve read), you have a Bachelor of Science from University of Toronto (like another soprano, Isabel Bayrakdarian), you are working on a Master of Music degree in singing at the Utrechts Conservatorium, and you are a member of Decamaron Ensemble, Nederlands Kamerkoor, and Consensus Vocalis. How does each aspect of such a rich background jive with and contribute to your career as a soprano?

A-J D: I think each aspect has shaped me into the singer and musician that I am today. My science degree has definitely encouraged a drive to always learn and question.

And singing is also similar in a way because it is an ongoing process of learning and experimenting.

I formed my ensemble (Decameron Ensemble) during the pandemic and we have been performing throughout the Netherlands. I think this was a way for me to keep the music alive and also find other creative ways of making and performing music.

JS: A look at your Facebook page indicates also an interest in dance (say the posted photographs) and (with a nod to Vigée Le Brun), a calling to portrait painting. How is it that intense involvement in one art form leads to exploration of another? Or is it a tendency toward curiosity in one’s personality?

A-J D: I have always been curious and eager to learn about various topics. My parents have also been a huge factor in nurturing my love of art, music and history. I try to explore other art forms because in many ways they are connected. I also like to challenge myself and I am open to attempting different things. I tried oil painting for the first time during the pandemic and ever since then I try to complete one painting a year. It’s a nice way to calm the mind when things get chaotic with rehearsals or concerts.

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your work in the arts?

A-J D: I’m not entirely sure if I put just parts of myself. I think my work is definitely my passion so I put my whole heart and soul into it.

JS: How does doing the kind of work you do in the arts change you as a person – and as a creator?

A-J D: Being a singer is very much a way of life. I have learned so much about myself while embarking on this journey to become a singer. The voice is so connected to everything we do in our day to day lives. Looking back, the process of discovering my voice and learning how to be a singer has very much made me aware of who I am as a person and has helped me grow.

JS: Please describe at least one major turning point in your life that brought you to this point as a creative person in the arts.

A-J D: Perhaps the biggest turning point was moving to the Netherlands during the pandemic in order to pursue my Masters. I grew a lot as a person and as musician. I learned to cope with the isolation and being away from family and friends.  I definitely found my own strength during this time. I met incredible musicians and formed a baroque ensemble (The Decameron) and we have been performing throughout the Netherlands. My friends and colleagues in the Netherlands became another family and have contributed to my growth as an artist.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person in the arts?

A-J D: I don’t think people realize just how hard and challenging it can be. People often see the glamorous side and it is true a musician’s life can be very beautiful and exciting, but there are also lots of challenges. It is not always easy to sing in front of an audience, to ignore the voices in our head or to deal with the pressure.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s culture, including the forms in which you work. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find distressing? Is there a difference between Canada and The Netherlands, where you are studying, in this regard?

A-J D: I think it is a bit difficult to compare as the latest years were extremely challenging for the art scene in the entire world. My experience in the Netherlands has been extremely positive and enriching. I really grew a lot in the open and nurturing environment of the Utrecht Conservatorium. I think it is important to find innovative ways of performing and to make our own opportunities. For instance, I have recently performed a multimedia concert program of my own creation based on the lives of four women connected in history and to the city of Utrecht. I combined music, art, anecdotes, letters written by these women in order to tell a story and reveal their voice.

It was very fitting to perform this at Het Utrechts Archief Museum and I am hoping to perform this project in other museums throughout the Netherlands.

JS: What’s next in the coming few years of your life in the arts?

A-J D: Well, performing and creating. Auditioning and travelling. Pause. Breathe. Repeat!

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. #7 IMAN HABIBI: COMPOSER, PIANIST, DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS ………A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: Please tell us about a creation of yours featured at this year’s Toronto Summer Music Festival. Why exactly does it matter to you and why should it matter to your listeners?

IMAN HABIBI: Relics is a collection of memories from my childhood years in Iran. From the fear of imminent bombings during the Iran-Iraq war to the gentle breeze near the vast beaches of the Caspian Sea where my family often went for vacation, each movement tells a deeply personal story of my childhood. It was originally written for two of my dear friends, Melissa Reardon and Raman Ramakrishnan through the Gabriela Lena Frank Creative Academy of Music.

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

IH: In my music, I am often a storyteller, a cultural worker and ambassador. I feel a responsibility to speak to the most pressing issues of our time. Naturally, my identity and lived experiences are important elements of my work.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

IH: My approach to music-making varies from composition to composition, based on the needs of the music, and my own mindset at the time. Each new composition feels like a journey of discovery into an unknown part of myself. My familiarity with craft, certain instruments or other technological means allow me to express myself more easily, and while they may inform my process, I don’t think they determine my approach to composition.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

IH: There are too many to list, but I struggle most with the existing hurdles to change and evolution in this fragile ecosystem we call “classical music,” which can, at times, be quite set in its ways. I am, however, optimistic for change on that front.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

IH: This may be better answered by the outsiders.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

IH: I am heartened to witness the richness of music being created by many of my colleagues, and to see instances of genuine commitment to diversifying and expanding our musical horizons. I am heartened by the awareness and sense of citizenship (in arts and society) that I see among the new generation of artists entering the field. I am most disheartened by instances of abuse of power and influence in its various forms, which many of us experienced and are still sadly rampant in our field, or by tokenism or unjust treatment of artists.

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

IH: I just finished three works which were premiered over the past two weeks: Zhiân, a 13-minute orchestral piece premiered a few days ago by Boston Symphony Orchestra, Offering of Water, an 11-minute piece for violin and piano that I premiered last week at Tanglewood with violinist Lucia Lin, and the string orchestra arrangement of Beloved of the Sky, which was premiered at Chelsea Music Festival in late June in New York. Over the next few months, I am looking forward to working on several chamber projects, including a piano trio for my friends Hyeyung Yoon and Gregory Beaver, a solo piano work for a consortium of pianists, a piece for saxophone and piano commissioned by Timothy McAllister, a song cycle for countertenor and piano for my friend César Aguilar, and looking further into the future, a violin concerto for Nikki Chooi, which we are in the early stages of planning. My piano duo ensemble, Piano Pinnacle, also has two ongoing projects, including our debut album, which we are hoping to record next year.

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

IH: The sense of community that a piece of music is sometimes able to create and the shared journey it can allow us to experience are incredibly meaningful to me. I love making music with my dearest friends, and I love forming new friendships through music. Any instances in which my music was able to accomplish that successfully made that piece of music more meaningful and special to me also.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. # 6  GABRIELA LENA FRANK: ……A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

GABRIELA LENA FRANK: I am known for frequently exploring my heritage which still astounds me in how globe-spanning it is. My ancestors were certainly a wandering lot, seeking out economic opportunity and cultural safety and I think this is a quintessentially human story. Hence, my history is what I consider among the most important parts of myself to put into my music.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

GLF: I am a pianist and for the earliest years of my composing, most of my compositions indeed featured the piano. Then, even when I moved away from the piano, for a while, even when I wrote for other instruments, they carried a distinct “piano accent.” It took a while before I could absorb the native tendencies of each instrument to tell the larger stories of my multicultural heritage, my concerns with the climate crisis, and so forth.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

GLF: Oh dear, there are simply not enough hours in the day! Protecting my creative time for all of my projects is quite challenging.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

GLF: It might be how much we artists draw our sense of self, our self-esteem, our well-being from our artistic practice. When it doesn’t go well, we feel dreadful. When we can’t find a regular habit, we feel out of balance. When it does go well, we feel great satisfaction but then there’s hunger for more. The closest analogy I can find is how athletes feel — It’s hard for athletes to retire, for instance, as they self-identify so much with their sport. Artists have a similar relationship to their work.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

GLF: Since I started my Academy, I’ve been really seeing through the eyes of the wonderful composers who have come through our small non-profit. On the one hand, I see the challenges before them including an uncertain economy and the climate crisis which has been touching more and more parts of the world in tangible ways. I am very concerned for their futures and their safety. On the other hand, I’m continually blown away by not just their talent, but their humanity and willingness to engage with the world in the spirit of citizenship. Alongside that, I’m seeing much more interest in diverse voices — demographically and aesthetically — in our industry. This gives me great hope.

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

GLF: I am finishing up a string quartet for the wonderful Fry Street Quartet while also working on a 45-minute symphonic work for the Philadelphia Orchestra called Picaflor (Hummingbird) based on creation myths of Latin America. In the back of my head, I’m beginning to search for ideas as well for a new orchestral song cycle with texts by scientist and birder Drew Lanham for the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra.

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

GLF: I know that music originates with me, but what I appreciate so much about my music is how, over time, they cease to be my music and belong to the performers. While I grow so much through the act of creating each work, my performers reveal even more of the music — more than I had ever dreamt — through their interpretations. That’s a wonderful gift.

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. # 5 DINUK WIJERATNE: CONDUCTOR, COMPOSER, PIANIST ………A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: Please tell us about a creation of yours featured at this year’s Toronto Summer Music Festival. Why exactly does it matter to you and why should it matter to your listeners?

DINUK WIJERATNE: The Isidore String Quartet will be performing my 2nd string quartet, entitled ‘The Disappearance of Lisa Gherardini’ – a 10-min work inspired by the real-life theft of the Mona Lisa from the Louvre in 1911. The piece is a virtuoso showpiece for string quartet, and I do hope that the TSM audience gets swept up in its escapism. At the same time, I hope they feel my empathy for Lisa herself – the mysterious subject of the portrait we know so well.

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

DW: I strive to be as authentic as possible in my creativity, and I believe that every artist views the world through a very personal lens shaped by his/her own experience. I find that I am always preoccupied by the meeting of cultures, the boundary between composition and improvisation, and by the tension between tradition and innovation.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

DW: Not because of a specific instrument, no; although I confess that my obsession with the tabla is a constant source of inspiration, and always in the background of my musical language. I am motivated to take on a compositional project when I am inspired by the musicians I get to work with, and when I find the right kind of concept to explore or story to tell. Often, I wait for months until I’m convinced I have found the right story/concept for the right people/project.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

DW: Now that I am in a brand new and exciting chapter of fatherhood, the challenge is finding enough time to compose!

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

DW: It’s a tough life in the sense that you’re pretty much creating (or thinking about creating) 24/7. I am a performer too, and the rewards of performance are much more immediate than those of composition, in the sense that it takes much less time for me to get ready for a performance than it does to create a piece from scratch. The latter takes several months and is terribly labour-intensive. But ultimately, one could argue that the rewards of art-making are some of the richest human experiences.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

DW: The only thing I find depressing is when kids don’t have sufficient access to the arts due to unfortunate policies or to inadequate funding, etc. On the positive side, I think we’re at an exciting time for the arts in the sense that the forum is becoming increasingly more inclusive; which is to say that a great diversity of people are now able – and indeed are being invited – to tell their stories through the arts.

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

DW: I am working on a large-scale, cross-genre song cycle called IDENTITY for Against the Grain Theatre, featuring the amazing Canadian baritone, Elliot Madore. I myself will be playing piano in the project, and I look forward to sharing the stage with Elliot and our two outstanding colleagues: Tyler Emond (bass) and Nick Halley (percussion). The cycle explores the notion that a lot of us have multiple concepts of personal identity that we are trying to reconcile within ourselves.

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

DW: I love the fact that my music has allowed me the immense pleasure and privilege of meeting inspiring musicians all over the world. I feel blessed to be able to call these people my friends, and being with them on stage is an eternal blessing.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. # 4 DAVID BOWSER: COMPOSER, CONDUCTOR, UNIVERSITY INSTRUCTOR, VOCAL COACH, ARTISTIC DIRECTOR ………A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: Please tell us about a creation of yours featured at this year’s Toronto Summer Music Festival. Why exactly does it matter to you and why should it matter to your listeners?

DAVID BOWSER: I am looking forward to the world premiere of my Sonata for Unaccompanied Violin performed by Heng-Han Hou at the Toronto Summer Music Festival. I composed the piece during the pandemic and chose solo violin to represent a voice of solitude, grief, contemplation and hope. While there are strains of sadness in the opening movement, there is a sense of yearning for understanding and searching for light and optimism throughout the three movements.

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

DB: I tend to find inspiration to compose in two large themes: the universal experience of the human condition, and our connectedness to nature. I try to dig deep into emotions, tap into the universal experience to which we can all relate, and develop a musical expression that is authentic. This process causes the artist to be vulnerable but that can be the very quality that touches the listener.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

DB: Once the inspiration has struck, composing is like a technical-expressive puzzle to solve and each note must fit and support the structure and expression. Sometimes it comes very quickly and sometimes it requires more time and effort. I stopped composing at the piano many years ago and find I have much more freedom when depending on my inner ear and my aural imagination. I believe one’s instrument can be a useful tool for composition but it can also limit compositional possibilities. I am fortunate as a conductor to have developed this aural imagination and I enjoy the freedom this gives me.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

DB: Turning off the brain can be a challenge. When one spends many creative hours a day on a musical composition, it can be difficult to find a quietness of mind to relax, connect with others and even sleep. I do have some techniques to help and have made much progress! I understand that I need some time to transition from composing to socializing (musical to verbal) and I give myself permission. Sometimes, though, I like to be immersed for days on end and cherish the freedom to compose every day without distraction. It can be isolating and one takes care to maintain some balance.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

DB: It’s probably difficult for some people to understand that every day is different for an artist yet we spend many hours a day on our craft. We work varying schedules each day and that might appear rather chaotic to some. But I love that variety. I am not someone who could easily work a traditional job, and I understand that my work is not for everyone either!

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

DB: We tend to talk about the arts as a homogeneous sector which is generally neglected. I do see a lot of unique creators in the arts who are actually flourishing and that is hopeful. Having said that, the arts industry in this country has been broken for decades. There is simply not enough support for artists and the capitalist survival-of-the-fittest model leaves many talents on the sidelines and creates unhealthy competition among artists. Politicians use the arts as a wedge issue claiming elitism, but without adequate funding for organizations, concert ticket prices tend to be expensive, reaffirming the elitism argument. Art is not elitist – our society is. I am pleased TSM offers free concerts among its presentations.

My biggest concern is that arts education in the school system has been gutted. The average level of proficiency and experience among first year university music students has inevitably declined. But it’s not just performers – this impacts all of us. People can’t be expected to pay to attend a concert if they have never played a note or been exposed to live concert music. No one cares to sit on a board of directors for a music nonprofit organization without having developed a passion for the arts. And of course, more generally and most importantly, we undervalue the fact that we foster a connection to each other through the arts and when that starts with the young it lasts a lifetime.

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

DB: I have a passion for wildlife and especially pinnipeds. Currently, I am directing a documentary film about sea lions and composing the accompanying music to be performed live by in-person musicians with the film. The project is called A Sea Lion Symphony and will be presented by the Sierra Club Seal Society of San Diego in La Jolla, California in November, and repeated afterwards in Toronto. Also, I am composing text and music for a choral-orchestral piece called The Eternal Earth for a world premiere performance by the Toronto Mozart Players and Oakville Choral Society next April. And I look forward to composing a musical to a new libretto I received recently but I can’t share the details just yet!

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

DB: I strive for a balance in structure and expression that has been so powerful in the works of master composers. I hope my music touches a broad audience and have mindfully developed a personal and expressive musical language firmly rooted in tonality. Themes related to nature, environment and conservation are increasingly present in my work. I love spending time in nature and then I bring that experience home to live with during the composing process.

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. # 1 ALICE HONG: COMPOSER, VIOLINIST, TEACHER ………A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: Please tell us about a creation of yours featured at this year’s Toronto Summer Music Festival. Why exactly does it matter to you and why should it matter to your listeners?

ALICE HONG: “…for not all is lost” is a composition commissioned by Toronto Summer Music in 2021. This piece was a great opportunity for me to reflect on the pandemic lockdown in a musical way and to put a positive spin on some very uncertain times. I hope the message behind the piece remains applicable to listeners post-pandemic: to stay hopeful and to celebrate the good people in our lives during trying times. In 2021, the piece also offered a way to reconnect with Toronto Summer Music, Jonathan Crow and Philip Chiu during a time when traveling to Toronto was definitely not an option! It is especially special to me this year because through the generosity of TSM, I am able to attend a performance of the piece in person – and on my birthday!

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

AH: I like sharing darker moods in my pieces than I like to share as a social person. I really appreciate that outlet and freedom.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

AH: Being an instrumentalist definitely plays a large role in my composition process. Aside from approaching the creative process physically as a violinist, I often have the opportunity of writing new pieces for instrumentalists I know (sometimes that person being myself too). It makes the creative process that much more special to have that performer’s personality, experiences and sound in mind when deciding how a piece will unfold and what story it will tell.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

AH: Imposters syndrome is not very fun, but it’s definitely something that has pushed me to be stronger and braver about being committed to what I hope to put out in the world. Another challenge for me personally is work/life balance. It’s hard to resist the urge to work constantly or to constantly think about work – but I guess that’s the price of doing something fun for work!

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

AH: In recent years, I’ve poked my head out from the classical music world a bit more and have gained some insight on what someone’s life looks like outside of classical music. I have to say, there are equally as many things I didn’t understand about that life as someone outside of classical music would understand about mine! There are two common concepts I often hear and love to challenge: that everyone in the arts is starving and that what we do is unrelatable. In Atlanta, I recently started a small business – Luxardo Entertainment Group – that puts on performances marrying classical and pop music, performed by classical musicians. It helps the musicians learn music and meet people outside of classical music, and it draws audiences into concerts that will introduce them to some classical music. Fun!

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

AH: When I was a string fellow at TSM in 2017, Andrew Kwan did several public talks asking us musicians what we were going to do to keep classical music alive. That question stayed with me well beyond the month-long festival. With successful performers being active on social media and YouTube, as well as mainstream media depicting musicians in more shows and movies like Bridgerton, Tár, Chevalier, and Maestro, I think there are a lot of big moves being made to keep classical music alive and well. I don’t find this particularly depressing, but I do think it would be really cool to see Asian female composers programmed more often, especially in orchestral settings!

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

AH: I’m currently working on two orchestral pieces, commissioned by Dr. Chaowen Ting and the Georgia Tech Symphony Orchestra, to be premiered November 2023. That same November, I’ll have a solo vibraphone piece premiered in Kyoto, Japan, and I’m chipping away at that as well. I’m also writing a two-violin and piano piece, for my dear friend Atlanta Symphony Orchestra violinist Bob Anemone, another dear friend pianist Choo-Choo Hu, and myself for an upcoming ensemble vim concert in the 2023-2024 season.

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

AH: I like that I stick to what I like. There’s often an emphasis on pushing boundaries in new music, and I am all for that. However, I really love cheesy music and sometimes my music can be cheesy – and I stand by it!

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. # 2 ALEXINA LOUIE, O.C.: COMPOSER, PIANIST, TEACHER ………A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: Please tell us about a creation of yours featured at this year’s Toronto Summer Music Festival. Why exactly does it matter to you and why should it matter to your listeners?

ALEXINA LOUIE: For me, writing music is always a new adventure. It is an act of self-expression as well as a special way to communicate with another human being. Each piece offers the opportunity to write a work that not only suits the request from the commissioner (in the case of Lotus III – Tai Chi String Quartet, Jonathan Krehm), but also offers me new possibilities for achieving my artistic goals. In this case, Jonathan approached me to write a new piece for string quartet plus tai chi performers. It is a unique chance to combine two different art forms – contemporary music for string quartet plus an ancient Chinese martial art.

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

AL: It took me many years to find my own musical voice. It was not a linear journey. Part of the act of self-discovery came from my connection to Western musical literature because I was a piano student from the age of seven through my undergraduate studies at the University of British Columbia. In addition, I discovered the depth, beauty, and expressiveness of Asian music. This connection became a most important part of finding myself and became inexorably tied to my musical voice.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

AL: Part of my creativity is tied to the fact that I was a serious piano student for so many years of my life. However, it is not advisable for a composer to write in a pianistic style for other instruments of the orchestra! I write the kind of music that I do partly because of what I respond to in music – that which captures my imagination and activates my mind. Resonance is a major component in my music. I often choose sounds that have a lingering quality.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

AL: The biggest challenge for me is finding what it is that I want to say in each piece – to give each piece its own life. Each work is different even though my sound world emanates from the same ‘space’, so to speak. It is also important for me to discover something new even within my own musical voice. It keeps the act of bringing life to a new piece fresh for me as the composer. It’s also important to take risks so you can stretch yourself as an artist. That can be a bit frightening because sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t – but you always have the option of revisions.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

AL: Composing is very hard work for me, but it shouldn’t sound like it is. I throw out many more pages than I eventually keep. I don’t clock my hours. Any piece of music that I write takes as much time as it takes for me to be satisfied with my creation. Even after a premiere or a performance, I don’t hesitate to correct, edit, revise, or rewrite if I feel that the composition needs it.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

AL: My hope is that more people will listen to the music being written today and find a connection between this music and life in today’s contemporary society. Of course, one doesn’t have to eliminate other genres of music or compositions written in the past. I’d love to see people keep an open ear, an open mind, and have a curiosity about music written in the same time period in which they are living. One’s listening choices don’t have to be exclusive (they certainly aren’t for me).

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

AL: I most recently completed Lotus III – Tai Chi String Quartet and have just begun my very first piece for solo flute. It’s a completely different kind of piece. At the same time, I am also in the beginning stages of a new work for orchestra.

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

AL: The music I compose belongs to my sound world — it’s personal and expressive. I find inspiration from many sources and I explore various styles in order to create music that reveals the world around me and the times in which we live.

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

MODERN COMPOSERS FEATURED AT THE 2023 TORONTO SUMMER MUSIC FESTIVAL JULY 6-29…. # 3 KEVIN WILKS LAU: COMPOSER, PIANIST……A REVIEWER INTERVIEWS PEOPLE IN THE ARTS

JAMES STRECKER: Please tell us about a creation of yours featured at this year’s Toronto Summer Music Festival. Why exactly does it matter to you and why should it matter to your listeners?

KEVIN WILKS LAU: My Fourth String Quartet will receive its world premiere at the Toronto Summer Music Festival. The work was commissioned by the Ironwood String Quartet, and by Jonathan Krehm, a wonderful and generous patron who happens to be a teaching disciple at Wu’s Tai Chi Chuan Academy in Toronto. The four movements of this quartet will accompany Tai Chi Chuan players (including Jonathan) demonstrating various weapon forms.

This piece documents my initiation into the concepts of Tai Chi, and into the philosophy of Taoism in general. Many of the principles found in Lao Tzu’s collection of ancient writings known as the Tao Te Ching—principles such as stillness, centredness, and flow—have resonated intuitively with me for many years, but in this quartet they are rendered musically explicit. These principles are conspicuously absent in much of modern culture, despite what I believe to be their immense importance to our well-being as individuals and as a species. This piece presents a small opportunity to bring some of these ideas to the forefront of the audience’s attention, intellectually and viscerally.

JS: What are the most important parts of yourself that you put into your creations?

KWL: Music is an expressive conduit that allows me to tap into the more extreme, intense aspects of myself; to transcend the boundaries of both language and ordinary experience. In real life I am a fairly reserved, even-tempered person; I suppose that my music expresses a hunger for life that I don’t find myself expressing as much in my speech and actions. I’m not sure I can articulate it better than that! But that is the nature of music, after all: to communicate something that resists the harsh clarity of words but is nevertheless full of meaning.

JS: What causes you to compose or create as you do? Is it because you play a specific instrument, for instance?

KWL: I have always been primarily inspired by other people’s music. I absorb influences like a sponge; my early compositions were all stylistic imitations of music I liked. Over time, I began to develop a certain way of processing these influences that I felt was unique to me. Composing has been (and continues to be) a journey of self-discovery, and I mean this literally—there are so many parts of myself I don’t fully understand, and the process of discovering and nurturing my own creative voice has been a highly illuminating and fulfilling one.

Learning piano at a young age undoubtedly served me well, especially when it comes to hearing and utilizing harmonic patterns, but I try not to rely on the actual physicality and sonic profile of the piano too much when composing—especially when it comes to orchestration, where the piano can place unwieldy limits on the imagination.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

KWL: Maintaining a state of flow as a creator. I don’t mean flow in the narrow sense of being joyfully engaged in every local moment of your life—that would be unrealistic, and I think not particularly desirable. But flow in the broadest sense: recognizing that creativity has a playful dimension, and preserving and integrating that playfulness into the business of daily life. Protecting the spirit of play is vital. That isn’t to say that composition shouldn’t be difficult or frustrating. But difficulty has a purpose. It’s a bit like parkour: there are obstacles everywhere, and sometimes those obstacles seem painful, even insurmountable, but with practice, patience, and with the right balance of focus and openness, the obstacles themselves become part of the landscape of play, the tapestry of living.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about your life as a person working in the arts?

KWL: The sheer unpredictability of everything. I can’t speak on behalf of all outsiders, but when I think of my immediate family members (none of whom are in the arts), I think they find the variation in every aspect of my life—from how much I made to what projects I’d be working on to what my daily schedule was like—bewildering and even anxiety-provoking. I would read their anxiety as a lack of trust in my ability to thrive in my chosen field, which then produces feelings of insecurity—something I really had to deal with over the past few years. But I have sympathy for their position, especially since stability is such valuable currency these days.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you create. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

KWL: I am neither hopeful nor depressed about the state of the arts. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that I have gratitude, and I have concerns. First off, my hats off to the arts councils: they have been doing a great job in supporting composers’ livelihoods, and I owe a big chunk of my career to the granting bodies (in particular the Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Toronto Arts Council) that have funded so many of my commissions. I entered my field fully expecting that it would be impossible to make a career as a concert composer (I grew up never having heard of such a profession!) And the fact that it is possible at all is a testament to the organizations that keep music alive, and the advocacy and generosity of countless individuals that make up our cultural support system.

A few weeks ago, I attended a speech given by the percussionist Dame Evelyn Glennie, who was being awarded the Léonie Sonning Music Prize in Copenhagen. Glennie, who is profoundly deaf, made a case for listening as an ultimate value—one that lies at the core of our collective humanity. I think we are in danger of losing our ability to listen. One symptom of this is when we begin to mistake preaching (often under the guise of inclusive rhetoric) for the kind of genuine connection that actually produces lasting, healthy change. Listening is more than hearing; it’s a complex, multi-directional process, requiring openness and space and a suspension of our basic impulse toward categorization and judgment.

JS: What new works are you working on at present?

KWL: This summer I am creating an orchestral arrangement of The Nightingale (originally scored for clarinet, violin, piano, and narrator) for ROCO, a wonderful orchestra based in Houston that I have a close relationship with. I am also writing a new piece called The Infinite Reaches for the National Arts Centre Orchestra (which I can now call my ‘hometown’ orchestra since I just moved to Ottawa!), which will be paired, excitingly, with Strauss’s Death and Transfiguration. In the fall I will get to work on a new version of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, from the perspective of a composer writing 100 years from now (in a world dramatically transformed by climate change), a piece that will blur the lines between arranged and original music.

JS: What do you yourself like about the music you create?

KWL: Lately I have become more open about my love of film music, and the way this manifests itself in my concert music. There was a time when film music was looked down upon, and I would be very reluctant to cite John Williams as a source of inspiration (he is.) Now I take pride in the challenge of integrating my cinematic influences into structural contexts that are completely independent of visual language.

And then there is flow, which I mentioned before. I have always been attracted to musical flow as an ideal—the sense that one musical event leads inexorably to the next, not just on a superficial level but on some deeper plane. It’s something I strive for, both consciously and unconsciously, and I’m absurdly happy on the occasions I’m able to achieve it. Particularly when I’m ‘flowing’ between things that, on paper, seem like binary contradictions—old and new, high and low—or unlikely associations, like erhu and space travel (see Between the Earth and Forever). I think flow is a metaphor for so many things in life, including the possibility of connection between disparate entities that is both the hallmark and the challenge of true diversity.

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment