James Strecker Reviews the Arts

MRS WARREN’S PROFESSION AT THE SHAW FESTIVAL: PROSTITUTION, MALE HYPOCRISY, MOMS AND DAUGHTERS, AND AN ALMOST THREE DECADE BAN

Posted on July 4, 2016 by strecker

Mrs. Warren’s Profession ends with daughter Vivie seated – or is it reborn? – behind a desk. Her blooming manner of efficiency is striking, as if in performance for her new self. She seems self-satisfied and seems washed clean. After all, she has terminated connection with her mother, Mrs. Warren, a former prostitute and now an owner of brothels. But in Eda Holmes terrific production of Shaw’s play, four men surround Vivie and move in closer as if for the killing of female willpower and self-reliance. Will she become a sacrifice to these embodiments of patriarchal society with its economic and male suppression of women? Indeed, at very least, their presence does seem ominous.

In Mrs. Warren’s profession, the tale runs like this: Mrs. Warren, born into hopeless poverty forgoes the inevitable life of deprivation and in time, with support of “capitalist bully” Sir George Crofts, her business partner, now owns five brothels across Europe. Such impressive success allows her to give daughter Vivie the finest education, although the latter, isolated in academia, is very innocent, very unaware of what a cruel place the world is. She has opinions but no wisdom. Her many judgements have not been earned by living an unsheltered life. She has hit the books but the realities of life have never hit her.

In Jean Renoir’s great film, La Regle du Jeu, Octave played by Renoir himself declares, “Ce qui est terrible sur cette terre, c’est que tout le monde a ses raisons. » This famous line certainly resonates throughout Eda Holmes’ evocative, sensitive and implicitly challenging production. We understand Vivie’s shock at her mother’s revelation that she operates a prostitution business, that she works within a male-serving morality which, like today, uses women sexually but then hypocritically degrades them for it. We understand that Vivie is losing her cocoon and all the fantasies left unexplored within it. But ……. Mother too has had her reasons which daughter will probably never understand.

Who then is Vivie, the one who responds “So do I” when Praed declares, “I like hard chairs?” We find she is testy about men‘s assumptions and unquestioning about herself, yet self-assured. She has a strong handshake, yet remains inflexible “She is better than any of us” declares Praed, played subtly worldly and shielded at one time by Gray Powell. “She has such character” says the almost hyper Wade Bogert O’Brien’s Frank, “such sense”. But then, what do men who have benefited from the patriarchal system, as a matter of course, know about women who, albeit their present confidence, very soon won’t? These men can be perceptive and realistic, but only as far as naiveté allows. Inherent in their way of life remains an exploitation of women.

Vivie does feel that people have choices. She values purpose and character and believes that people can change their circumstances. She is abrupt and unbending and her sarcasm is polite but sarcastic none the less. Others have come to see her as a “steamroller” in her intention to be self-sufficient. She does indeed feel “shame” on hearing the truth about her mother and, set on protecting herself, doesn’t want to be sentimental ever again. Thus her parting of her ways with her mom. “There is no beauty and romance in life for me” she declares. Vivie is a complex character and Jennifer Dzialoszynski ably reveals her many sides and tendencies. Vivie is charming and hateful, wounded and determined, full of purpose and naïve. Dzialoszynski delivers her with intense focus that is unsettling.

Nicole Underhay’s Mrs. Warren is ripeness itself. She is a woman of broad gestures and she is physically effusive, as if her body and the air around it share one sensuality. She seems physically close no matter where she stands, always on the verge of writhing and surprisingly sometimes tomboyish. She is passionate and has no desire to inhibit her ample self. We sense well-honed survival skills in her, and also that she has taken ownership of her self-respect from a society of her childhood where women faced lead poisoning, alcoholic husbands, very low wages, and dead end slavery jobs. She now can say “the life suits me” and we believe her. Without question, this lady knows her stuff as she delivers a luscious devouring kiss on .Frank’s mouth.

In her confrontation with her daughter, Mrs. Warren is presented in an audience-draining performance of high pitched emotional intensity. The verbal battle between the two is genuinely disturbing. Vivie shows no mercy for herself or anyone else according to her mother and she certainly will not look after mom in her old age. Their verbal battle is especially heartbreaking because neither has resolved much emotionally, before, during, or after the encounter. Both women need to be active and working, and neither is adept at negotiating human relationships. Vivie says goodbye for good, Mrs. Warren slams the door, and both go to lives where, wounded, they can feel worthy.

The performance of Shaw’s play takes place in the New Lyric Gentlemen’s Club- men’s world equals men’s club- and although we hear reference to hashtags of “oldest profession” and watch selfies being taken, there are 78 rpm recordings available. The world hasn’t changed in all these years. And we do know that this is a male society that wouldn’t allow Shaw’s controversial play to be performed in a public theatre, saddled as it was with 27 year government ban. Mrs. Warren, after all, is an unrepentant prostitute who succeeds in a man’s world.

In the four male actors we have depiction of distinct variety among men. In Tom Marriott’s flexible Sir George, we have a capitalist, perhaps more pragmatic than cruelly exploitive, at least as we see him. Shawn Wright’s Reverend is crabby-looking, flustered, bullied by his son, and more a fellow going through a personal hell of some kind than preaching about it. Gray Powell’s Praed is generally likeable and level headed, like one standing almost safely back from emotional chaos. Wade Bogert O’Brien’s Frank is boyish, charming, and irresponsible, obsessively disrespectful to his father, and full of inner energy akin to popcorn popping.

These four men could easily be simplified types, but here they are very believable as individuals with personal histories. Each is a nuanced performance, full of unresolved qualities, and to condemn any of them we must condemn ourselves. “Tout le monde a ses raisons” after all. But the troubling thought remains that each fares well in the world, at least better than women, because he was born a man.

Posted in shaw festival, Uncategorized | Tagged Eda Holmes, Gray Powell, Jennifer Dzialoszynski, Kimberly Purtell, Mrs Warren's Profession, Nicole Underhay, Patrick Clark, Shaw Festival, Shawn Wright, Thom Marriott, Wade Bogert O'Brien | Leave a comment

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AT THE SHAW FESTIVAL: SPECTACULAR SETTINGS, INTRIGUING CHARACTERS, CONSTANT FLUX

Posted on July 4, 2016 by strecker

In adapter-director Peter Hinton’s take on Alice in Wonderland at the Shaw Festival, Tara Rosling’s Alice brings an intriguing ambiguity of person to the table, with child and adult both decidedly present. Alice the intended child is unstoppable, a self-propelled energy incarnate in a 10 year old girl. She is delightfully animated in voice and body, with speaking that has the momentum of imagination. A child’s sense of discovery prevails in her, also a high-strung enthusiasm and a childlike sense of self-importance but without self-indulgence.

There’s a strong unbending presence in Alice that bursts girlish in her girlish bobbing about. But there’s also an assertive bite in her delivery, one that echoes adult experience. If her energetic moves take us playfully into a playful realm of odd beings, all without condescension to anyone younger who watches, Alice does so with firmness of purpose that shows adult confidence. When she declares, “grown-ups are ridiculous,” we hear both the child and the grown up Alice speaking of those elder to her and of those like herself. We, in a world of Trump and Brexit and Harper, welcome such thoughts. We too do not know how to handle our very crazy world.

In a society of vindictive Victorian propriety, life as it is denies the realities of the imagination, some of which this production allows us to experience in physical form. Identity is of necessity thus fluid, freedom is realized in a context of oppression, and one eagerly follows the inner logic of this unpredictable place wherever it goes. And in the boat we hear the exchanges of Charles Dodgson-Lewis Carroll and Alice Liddell that reveal how imagination is spoken and written down in this limiting world, darkly lit on this stage, that craves another.

These exchanges of Alice and Dodgson show them as deeply connected, perhaps where imagination and human need and a male-female bond overlap and become conspiratorial in a constraining world. We hear this exchange: “I don’t feel I am anywhere” “Nor do I” No wonder the many characters are made as free as the mind to go their own route and not the way of social habit and its stubborn need to suppress anything but itself. Before coming, I had played two recordings of Alice in Wonderland, those of Michael York and of John Gielgud, and each time I was taken over, enriched by Carroll’s imagination, wit, and language. Here too I felt enriched –and awed- albeit with Carroll taken off the page and plunked interpreted on the stage in dazzling theatrical terms.

The players are many in this production of Alice in Wonderland and the Charles Dodgson we meet here implies a reaching beyond himself to some kind of fulfilling connection or state of being. Indeed, we meet the variety implicit in “being” once it is freer of the world. The French Mouse of Neil Barclay is self-assertively very French, the Caterpillar made of several pliable humans is imaginatively choreographed into delightful contortions, and The Duchess played by Donna Belleville is assertive with her authority and presence. A Bo-Peepish sextet prints an alphabet they can’t see as they write on slates. These are all real because they are imagined.

Graeme Somerville’s Mad Hatter comes across as blunt and seemingly punch drunk, Jennifer Phipps’ Cheshire Cat implies worldliness through her challenging air of mischief and as she changes one’s sense of reality on a whim. Moya O’Connell’s Queen of Hearts is gushy and growling, with a delightful self-parodying quality, and she struts in a procession that is plush, lush and colourful. And what Gryphon do you know who is made like Kyle Blair’s and can walk on legs like that?

The Shaw Festival’s Alice in Wonderland is many things at one time. It is theatrically spectacular, emotionally consuming, challenging to one’s imagination, unsettling and delightful. William Schmuck’s costumes are eye-commanding and delicious with variety, while Kevin Lamotte’s lighting, sometimes low and shadow-rich, creates a compelling psychological context from which imagination can escape. In the projections by Beth Kates and Ben Chaisson, enormous projected monarch butterflies do heavyweight flutter, a huge projected face of Alice comes at us bigger and bigger and bigger until it is an overwhelming eye, cards and tea cups blow about in in wind stormy chaos, and Alice is submerged under water. All this brilliantly done technical stuff that takes us in completely.

In the stage setting sensitive music of Allen Cole, a chamber group creates a persistent feeling of immediacy, and it is wistful, gloomy and hopeful. The songs are atmospheric and feel inherent in the narrative and not imposed. With sound by John Lott, voices get pinched into Carroll’s progression into more lunacy. One doesn’t sense constraining physical limits here as things expand and contract in Eo Sharpe’s very busy setting where things become energies of transformation. We constantly check out all the nooks and colours in Sharpe’s setting, all in a spirit of going with the tide, and there is always more here than the eye can categorize at one shot.

In Lewis Carroll’s book adapted for the stage by director Peter Hinton, spoken word is also naturally forefront and, although not always decipherable, familiar lines throughout give us fresh pleasure, especially when they are pun-infected. This is not Carroll’s tale as such, where spoken words feed the listener’s imagination, but a theatrical adaptation with license for the director to follow his own imagination as it is inspired to do so by Carroll. In this happily overwhelming production, an energetic cast each creates a private world for us to enter. Things change shape and size at will and through the perspective of Alice we do too. We are made the same size as Alice, as projected plants and butterflies overwhelm us, and we thus live her experience. Cards are leaves are cards in this place.

Hinton’s take on Carroll may not be totally reflective of the author’s text, but it does offer a vigorously realized surprise at every turn. We have before us spectacular settings in constant flux and these gear our states of mind into high drive. The narration for us is what we make of all these experiences fed to our senses and our minds. And when I asked a group of young people in the lobby if they enjoyed the show, they beamed with smiles that, it seemed, denoted blown away minds.

Yes, I’ll return to Carroll’s spoken text again and allow my imagination to do its own Peter Hinton gig with the author’s tale. But I’m also returning to see this Alice and note if I once again smile, thoroughly delighted, throughout. And since there is still little vegan food in Niagara on the Lake on which to dine beforehand, perhaps I’ll find a vendor of mushrooms, on the tourist-crowded streets, to help prepare me for another go at this splendidly theatrical show. Maybe I’ll invite Grace Slick.

Posted in shaw festival, Uncategorized | Tagged alice in wonderland, Allen Cole, Ben Chaisson, Beth Kates, Donna Belleville, Eo Sharpe, Graeme Somerville, Jennifer Phipps, Kevin LaMotte, Kyle Blair, Lewis Carroll, moya o'connell, Neil Barclay, Peter Hinton, Shaw Festival, Tara Rosling | Leave a comment

UNCLE VANYA AT THE SHAW FESTIVAL: VERY HUMAN AND POETIC AND REAL

Posted on June 29, 2016 by strecker

Moya O’Connell as Yelena and Neil Barclay as Vanya in Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya

The Shaw Festival’s production of Uncle Vanya is top-notch for a number of reasons. We believe these lives before us as lives actually lived in what they reveal. They indicate themselves to be complex lives and, in what remains unknown to us, these characters exist just as much. We look at these people not with judgment but with acceptance that we could do no better. We detect precisely and sensitively rendered truths in each performance and in Jackie Maxwell’s direction a keen ability to find poetry that lives and breathes in the ways of the world. This is poetry that knows honesty and no easy answers, if any.

Overall, this memorable production has the quality of a musical composition, one filled with distinct statements developed and blended into a conceptual whole. And like great music, the unspoken prevails as much as what is said. We know we’ve been reached and been moved, as a result of all the parts speaking individually and as one, but like these characters before us we constantly feel so much and cannot quite say why. This production of Uncle Vanya proves that theatre, once experienced, can remain in each and all of us. After all, it depicts what we are.

Gently insistent music by Paul Sportelli hangs wistful, subdued and lingering. Individual lives drift into view, the ones of this world who pass with time but never move that much. In Rebecca Picherack’s subdued and sunless lighting, we hear conversation of an insulated and isolated world. It is spoken with inherent affection and familiarity. These people, we find, breathe in and out the same air and the same hopelessness. It’s a constant same old same old as people get old. It’s “Life is boring and stupid” and “I’ve become a creep.” There is little to observe happening here. These are all people who fuck up in their lives without doing that much. And people feel their lives fading away. The Shaw company cast under Jackie Maxwell’s direction of Uncle Vanya makes all of this very human and poetic and real.

Annie Baker’s adaptation of Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya is refreshingly colloquial and less formal than I remember some other translations to be, all without pandering but with the immediacy of language one might overhear at interval in the lobby. Baker’s skill, at least as directed with unwavering human insight by Maxwell, is that these words sit comfortably with the characters before us and, through them, we gain new insight into characters we know from seeing them before. Would a Russian of circa 1900 say “creep?” Would Marina call Astrov “sweetie pie?” Don’t know, but with the precisely perceptive actors in this production, the words work evocatively. The characters seem to feel them naturally, hand in glove, a perfect fit.

In any case, from what they say we still wonder if these people really care about anything at all. Or are they, like Yelena or Vanya, self-indulgent because there ain’t much else to do? Chekhov subtitled Uncle Vanya “Scenes from Country Life” and sometimes we do indeed look at these characters as lives like random trees growing here and there that to some, like Astrov, take on metaphysical value while others remain less than indifferent.

However, we experience a number of deeply touching scenes in this production, say the potent human connection of Sonya and Yelena, an energetic bonding of two women who each one lives a dead end. Their bond seems to bubble from inside as they get endearingly pissed together although, nevertheless, Sonya has to come to terms with enduring her unhappiness. She delivers a broken-hearted and heartbreaking declaration to this effect at the play’s end. What she wanted before didn’t happen and now it can’t. The way Marla McLean balances the stifled life force within Sonya with a tentative expression of its joyful abandon is painful to watch yet assertively poetic.

To be sure, these aren’t lives merely of quiet desperation since, after all, this is Chekhov and his people do talk a great deal as they get in tune with the realities of hopelessness. People here are assaulted by the needs of others and remain numb to them. They are always on the verge of playing games with each other, but games do not serve their purpose very long. These lost souls need cradling and don’t get it. And in this world, diversion or escape, when found, brings only another kind of pain to endure. Maxwell’s sensitive direction helps us to sense real lives and not simply a performance of them. Each of these lives takes a subtle hold of our feelings.

Neil Barclay’s Vanya is a man of inherent whine and a self-propelling sense of drama, a man with an inner energy and nowhere to go. His is a self-indulgent air of resignation, an assertive but love-hungry cynicism. His is a compelling resonating vocal presence, but one that declares futility, frustration, self-deception, and idleness. He brings flowers like one who wants his boredom to be passion. He is strongly present to us but in truth we find him intriguingly elusive to explanation of his character.

Marla McLean’s Sonya is a young woman full of hopeful love whose world will not allow her to feel it as she needs. She is wide-eyed about a man, Astrov, who feels and practices his ideals and she remains devoted to him, protective of him, but again she is let down by a world indifferent to her responsible and dedicated nature. To Sonya, McLean brings an appealing directness, a warm but no-nonsense quality. She seems clean with purpose and is obedient to her circumstances. Her youth, like her hair, is pulled tight and remains contained by practicality and subservience to others. She doesn’t seem to feel she deserves anything.

Moya O’Connell’s Yelena is a woman of off-handed delivery and condescending patience who can’t seem to imagine that other lives exist beyond her own, all as she hangs in her own ennui. At times, she seems ready to lose her bearing and perhaps her mind. She sees herself as a character in a play, craves order, and with an elderly husband can only declare that she will hang in because “in 5 or 6 years I’ll be old too.” On one hand, she sits securely in pointlessness and on the other is full of passion she almost dares to feel. She is unsettling to men –and to herself. She’s a magnet to the passions of others.

Astrov, played engagingly by Patrick McManus, like the rest, is untested and unrealized. Like the rest, he is part full of purpose and part lost. He is frustrated by those who do not share his ecological concerns, the one area where his passions do not waver or compensate for emptiness elsewhere in his life. “I don’t think I’m capable of loving anyone,” he declares to Sonya, who treasures him, and thus kills the possibility of love that could -or should– happen between them, but won’t. Meanwhile, his sexual attraction to Yelena is sometimes partially received but then deflected, even as he acknowledges her cancerous effect of others. In the end, he seems helpless to his aging.

David Schurmann’s Serebryakov is an index of aches and pains and ensuing complaints that, for one, he is “nearly a corpse. He is an academic who is out of touch with the world about him, self-absorbed, and spoiled by the acquiescence of others. Pain consumes him, we are led to believe, and he milks it. He is pampered like his wife and they seem infected with their uselessness as they infect others. Donna Belleville’s Maria eagerly caters to him and expects others to follow her lead. She speaks with a sense of authority that seems humanly empty, as if laying claim to other lives when she hasn’t one of her own.

Sharry Flett’s Marina is aged, somewhat stooped, and quite perky in attitude if not as securely in body. She shows the wisdom of age in her words and in her actions, both finely tuned. She almost seems to embody a Taoist clarity in her life and we wonder what has made her so. Her wisdom is unobtrusive but strong. Meanwhile, Peter Millard’s Telegin declares satisfaction with his life but facial lines and troubled eyes declare emotional scars. Always ready of guitar, he speaks the interconnectedness of lives through his instrumental commentary. Implicit in him, we sense that existence is a struggle, and a sad one.

Highly recommended.

Posted in shaw festival, Uncategorized | Tagged Annie Baker, Jackie Maxwell, Marla McLean, moya o'connell, Neil Barckay, Niagara on the Lake Anton Chekhov, Patrick McManus, Shaw Fesstival, Uncle Vanya | Leave a comment

JAMES EHNES: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ACCLAIMED VIRTUOSO VIOLINIST DUE TO APPEAR WITH THE TORONTO SYMPHONY ON JUNE 9, 10, 11

Posted on June 6, 2016 by strecker

Photo: Benjamin Ealovega

James Strecker: You are certainly a presence as a musical figure in the media. Your concerts, recitals, and recordings are frequently reviewed and you often participate in detailed and probing interviews and presentations. Does your existence as a public entity in any way intrude upon or influence your making music as you would wish?

James Ehnes: Honestly, I think that the two things are very separate. I have a business, I am a business. There are times when the public—the PR side of my life—is engaged, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a large part of my career. I feel lucky that I like meeting people. I like talking to people, and I like interesting discussions about the career, the business or the music itself, so I don’t find it a huge burden. It’s actually a great luxury.

JS: You’ll be joining the TSO for the Elgar violin concerto on June 9 to 11 and it’s one that you’ve recorded also with Sir Andrew Davis. What pleasures and challenges does this concerto offer you as a violinist and what does it offer a listener in the audience?

JE: Elgar’s Violin Concerto is a tremendously challenging work. Elgar himself was a violinist, but somewhat of a frustrated violinist. I think he poured all his desires for the violin (and possibly for his own dreams) into this piece. Musically, it’s a really epic journey. It’s such a musically and emotionally ambitious piece. It tries to say so much, and, when it succeeds I think that it has a very profound effect on the listener. I feel it’s an honour to get to play it.

JS: Is it discernible that a composer does or doesn’t actually play an instrument for which he or she has written? For a composer, are there any advantages to not being influenced by a player’s view of an instrument?

JE: The composer’s experiences certainly shape his or her music. Elgar’s understanding of the violin does add something to the piece. The violin was his voice, in many ways. It’s interesting to me that two of the most demanding concertos in the repertoire were written by Elgar and Sibelius: both composers played the violin and had aspirations for important performing careers that never materialized. You get the sense that they wrote things thinking, “I know it’s possible. It’s too hard for me to do, but surely someone else will figure out how to do it.” If a composer doesn’t have an understanding of the instrument, he or she might be afraid to push the envelope with what is possible.

JS: Several musicians have described for me the difficulty of being restricted within a specific instrument’s limitations. Have you ever had a similar experience and, if so, what did you do about it?

JE: I will never be a good enough violinist to feel like I have reached the expressive ends of the instrument. I aspire to be able to bring out as much expressive emotion from a violin as possible. In absolute terms, the instrument will always be greater than any player that chooses to play it.

JS: You’ve made mention elsewhere of the “personality” of your Marsick Strad, so could you describe some specific aspects of this personality and also tell us, in turn, what aspects of your own personality work well with these?

JE: The instrument is very adaptable. Its most remarkable quality is that it can sound a lot of different ways, and it can go in a lot of different musical directions. The tone of the instrument is very focused (and this is typical of Stradivari’s instruments in general) and encourages the player to seek ever more focus and beauty in the sound. It’s always difficult to put these things into words, but that’s the type of tone that really appeals to me, something that has a very dense and beautiful core of sound.

JS: You connected with Bartok’s music as a ten-year-old and it seems the experience was quite a revelation to you. Now you’re involved in an ongoing project on the Chandos label of his music, so could you tell us about that first experience with Bartok and how your relationship has developed over the years? What in Bartok is meaningful to you?

JE: I was exposed to so many great composers through my parents. What reached me with Bartok’s music is a combination of factors: It is emotionally direct, while also being incredibly brilliant. It’s so well worked out, so well written. Bartok and Ravel are two composers that I greatly admire. Their music is so meticulously composed, yet maintains such a total freedom of expression; it never seems the least bit contrived. Also, the use of polytonalities in Bartok’s music fascinates me. The layering of harmonies upon harmonies is extremely colourful.

JS: In what ways do you find a composer’s biographical information useful to you when you perform his or her music? Any examples?

JE: It’s a very difficult question to answer because I’m tempted to say yes. However, I feel some people spend a lot of time and energy trying to explain genius instead of just recognizing the fact that these composers were just really great at what they did. So, as interesting as it is, there needs to be a musical reason for doing everything, not just because you read some story in a book that makes you feel justified in doing it that way.

JS: What have been three of the most challenging positive experiences you’ve faced in your musical career?

JE: With Elgar’s music on my mind these days, I’d say my first performance of the Elgar concerto. I remember the first time I performed it. It was at the Brighton Festival with the London Symphony Orchestra. As a young man, playing the Elgar concerto for the first time with the LSO was absolutely terrifying. That music is part of their cultural identity—they know it inside out. There was a huge feeling of responsibility, and, the fact that the performance went well, and the players of that orchestra were so warm and supportive, was tremendously encouraging to me. But there are no easy concerts. I would say that often the projects that have been the most rewarding in the end are the ones that were the most complex while I was going through them.

JS: Likewise, what have been your most dispiriting experiences that you’ve had to endure as a musician and how did you resolve them?

JE: There are always times that you don’t play as well as you wish you did. Of course, there are little disappointments and little frustrations. In every concert, there’s something I wish I’d played better than I did, but, deep down, even if I’m not feeling particularly confident, I trust there’s value in what I have to say as a player.

JS: I gather that your teachers, although certainly crucial to your development, were able as well to let you discover what you needed to learn for yourself. How did this approach influence you as a student and you as the musician you are today?

JE: Ultimately, a teacher’s greatest responsibility is to teach the student how to learn on their own. I’ve had great teachers, including Francis Chaplin and Sally Thomas, who knew me very well. They allowed me a great deal of freedom.

JS: What psychological smarts does a musician like you require to function, first, as the leader of a quartet and, next, as one who gives masterclasses?

JE: In our quartet, I happen to play the first violin parts, but this is very much a meeting of equals where no one is guiding anyone else. I’ve learned from my teachers that one should be flexible, and you can’t approach every student in the same way. There’s no formula for teaching music or teaching how to play the violin.

JS: Which composers and musical works don’t get programmed or recorded enough to give them the exposure they deserve? Why is this so?

JE: By and large, historically speaking, the pieces that have become famous are famous for the right reasons. There are pieces that I really love that I feel don’t get played as much as they might deserve, but what can I know? You can only really know things through your own perspective. There are no rights or wrongs in the music world: everyone’s entitled to their opinions. That’s what’s wonderful about it. There’s room for different tastes, and people that feel different ways. For example, this tour program that I’m doing has such a wide variety of music—from a towering masterpiece such as a major Beethoven sonata to new music to fun little encore pieces. It is so much fun! As a listener, I like going to concerts where I hear a variety of things.

JS: A singer who had lost his voice for a disturbing period of time once told me that he was then forced to ask himself, “Who am I if I can’t be a musician?” and thus faced some existential issues about himself. Have you ever had an experience in some way similar to this in that you questioned how your human identity was bound to your identity as a musician?

JE: For me, it’s not so much identity, it’s more outlet. We all need to find ways of expressing ourselves, to articulate our thoughts and our emotions. I imagine being without that would feel very painful, but I don’t think that I would feel like I was losing my own identity. Whether or not I could play music, music would still mean the same thing to me. I think I would retain those same feelings of who I am and how I relate to the world.

JS: I’ve just been enjoying again your CD/DVD titled Homage on which you play and explore “12 of the greatest instruments ever made.” One thing that soon becomes obvious, beyond the unforced grace of your virtuosity, is your poise and what seems an inherent sense of discretion in using your skills and your energies. So, what might a young violinist do to learn to use his or her energies effectively as you do? What does this young violinist need to learn?

JE: Physical economy is important. Playing the violin is really hard. In most activities that require skill or concentration, we tend to develop funny little physical ticks that are completely unnecessary. The act of concentration often gets wires crossed within the body, creating tension. The young violinist needs to be aware of this. Why are you spending so much energy tightening up major muscle groups that don’t even need to be engaged right now? Try to remove any extraneous issues.

JS: Finally, you get to ask three different questions, one each to three different composers, so what would these questions be?

JE: That would take an awful lot of thought, and it would be one of those things where, as soon as you asked it, you’d realize it was a stupid question. It’s funny. There are very specific questions that I find very frustrating. I would be tempted to ask really nerdy questions. I would ask Mozart what exactly he meant when he was 19, writing appoggiaturas the way he did. I would ask Shostakovich what those couple of questionable notes are in the first Violin Concerto. I would ask Bach if he really did want the harmonies that he wrote in Sheep May Safely Graze. And then I would ask those questions and they would disappear back into the genie bottle, and I would feel like a complete doofus for not asking them much more meaningful and important questions. It would be pretty hard not to ask Brahms if he hooked up with Clara, right?

Posted in Interviews from Music, Uncategorized | Tagged Chandos, Elgar Violin Concerto, Homage CD/DVD, James Ehes, Marsick Strad, Roy Thomson Hall, Toronto Symphony | Leave a comment

BUD ROACH: AN INTERVIEW (PART I) WITH AN EARLY MUSIC DYNAMO ABOUT HIS WIDE-RANGING MUSICAL CAREER AND HIS HAMILTON CONCERT SERIES “HAMMER BAROQUE” (TAFELMUSIK COMING ON MAY 25 AND LUTENIST SYLVAIN BERGERON ON MAY 28)

Posted on April 30, 2016 by strecker

James Strecker: I did quite a double take last year on discovering your Hammer Baroque series of musicians and singers all of international stature and just a mile from my home in Hamilton. Why exactly did you initially establish this musically rich series and what are your present goals with it?

Bud Roach: I love to hear stories about how people first come to know Hammer Baroque, because everyone talks about it as though they’ve found some sort of secret doorway, and this is part of the reason why I thought of creating a monthly series. My ensemble Capella Intima has been presenting some really great programmes in Hamilton since 2009, but not many people have been there to hear them. I accept much of the blame for that situation, because promotion is one of my weaker spots, but it has always seemed to me that Hamilton’s classical music scene was a bit disjointed.

Pockets of activity have always been going on, but we just aren’t a large enough city to support something like our own WholeNote Magazine. Or perhaps it’s not a question of population, but more one of proximity to one of the most vibrant music scenes in North America! At any rate, I felt that if a consistent early music audience could be cultivated by running a series, then Capella Intima concerts stood a better chance of being community events, rather than an ensemble that pops up three times a year, then slips back into obscurity.

Currently Hammer Baroque is a monthly concert series, and it is a huge undertaking. But the response of both the early music community and Hamilton audiences has been very enthusiastic. What I would like to see with Hammer Baroque is a “tiered” system of sponsorship, where a budget exists to bring in guests for a guaranteed fee. This way, more international artists could be booked. It would be nice to be able to form partnerships with organizations that are unable to take the risk involved by participating on the series.

Right now it operates on a “Fringe Festival” basis, where proceeds from the box office go directly to the artists. There is no budget, and the minimal expenses involved (thanks to the amazing generosity of the Church of St. John the Evangelist) are covered by about the first fifteen or eighteen patrons. After that point, what the people around you in the church have donated is what the artists are leaving with. So although artists will always walk away with some compensation for their efforts, it would be a risk for any group that doesn’t operate as a collective, and offers the performers a set fee. Having sponsorship for that would allow for a few more ensemble appearances that are out of reach at the moment.

JS: One thing I love about the series is the opportunity to get acquainted with composers, especially pre-classical, who are new to me. It reminds me of the good old days when I would buy LPs on the Vox label and make all manner of musical discoveries. What type of response have you had from your audiences regarding repertoire and performers in your series?

BR: Well, the goal was to increase Capella Intima’s audience, and that has certainly been achieved. The mandate of the quartet is to perform relatively unknown music from the early Baroque. Most of the time when people attend a Capella Intima concert, they are hearing music that has never been heard in Canada. Or, in more than a few cases, it’s likely that our repertoire has not been heard anywhere in the world for several hundred years! This makes for very special performances, in my opinion.

It is a very different feeling, for both performers and audiences, to experience music that is unfamiliar, and I really enjoy presenting programmes where no one really knows what’s coming next. There could be unexpected humour, or a surprisingly touching moment. The emotional heights of music from the Baroque era are the essence of its appeal, and there were many, many composers who were very good at conveying that drama. So having a wide array of performers and programmes to bring an historically informed sensibility to the music of the period (with a bit of stretching on both sides of the “Baroque” timeline) makes sense, and patrons seem to enjoy that as well.

We’ve had a medieval programme (Tales from the Decameron) presented by Sine Nomine, all the way to Beethoven with the Eybler String Quartet. Some patrons have made specific suggestions, and I always consider that in the programming of the series. As an example, the concert this weekend will feature the amazing Alison Melville on recorder. Alison is a friend and colleague, and I was really thrilled when she asked about performing, because Hammer Baroque patrons have requested a concert featuring the recorder since the very first event (Spoiler alert: Alison will be back next season with her recorder quartet!).

We present instrumental and vocal music, from solo voice to 18th-century choir and orchestra, from a wide swath of Western musical history. If I expect an audience to come each month, then care must be taken to ensure that the variety in the programming makes attendance worthwhile. As for your question about how the performers have been regarded, I can say that patrons have always been demonstrative in their praise. Spreading the word means larger audiences, and larger audiences lead to the highest level of performers, so Hammer Baroque’s growth is a very good thing for the quality of concert presentation in Hamilton.

JS: At a recent concert, one which featured violinist Edwin Huizinga and harpsichordist Philip Fournier, you referred with some delight to “Hammer Baroque audiences” and I wonder who the people who attend your concerts might be. Are you surprised by the obvious success of your series? How in fact, other than with your own efforts, do you make such a series happen?

BR: I am absolutely amazed at how the community has welcomed and embraced Hammer Baroque. Every concert has had a special kind of atmosphere, and no matter how much work is involved in putting things together, it’s a wonderful reward to have patrons thank me for organizing the series. But of course, it does not happen by my efforts alone. Steve McKay (formerly the Technical Director for Tafelmusik) and his family have a special relationship with the Rock on Locke venue, and he has guided the congregation through the process of becoming a serious venue for classical music in the city. He built the stage, and also installed the lighting, which happens to be Tafelmusik’s old lighting system from Trinity St. Paul’s in Toronto!

So Hammer Baroque came into existence because the Rock on Locke became a suitable, affordable venue, and I had the desire to start a monthly series. And as for making each concert a reality, I can say that it gets easier for almost every event, but is still a considerable investment of time and energy. The website must be updated, emails answered, Facebook page kept up to date, concert listings sent out, a monthly mass email, posters designed, printed, and posted locally, programmes designed and printed, slide projections for each concert designed, coordinating with the performers, contacting volunteers to help me with front-of-house….it is a lot of work, but with every concert, I feel as though the local audience for early music is being broadened, and that is a rewarding development.

I want the audience I sing and play for to be enthusiastic, open-minded, and educated, and by establishing a series like Hammer Baroque, that’s what I can help to build. The people you may see helping out with cash or selling cd’s, I should add, are not volunteers I have sought out. They are Hammer Baroque patrons who have shared with me that they are willing to help! My long-suffering partner has taken on the lion’s share of this, but there are many patrons who have offered their time and expertise. I’m still learning how to delegate, so some folks haven’t been called into service yet. However, with Tafelmusik returning in May, I think it will be an “all hands on deck” situation.

Posted in Interviews from Music, Uncategorized | Tagged Bud Roach, Capella Intima, Church of St John the Evangelist, Hammer Baroque, Rock on Locke, Sylvain Bergeron, Tafelmusik | Leave a comment

LEILA JOSEFOWICZ: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE CELEBRATED VIOLINIST AND PROMOTER OF NEW MUSIC, DUE TO PERFORM A CANADIAN PREMIERE WITH THE TORONTO SYMPHONY IN TORONTO, OTTAWA, AND MONTREAL IN MAY

Posted on April 21, 2016 by strecker

James Strecker: You’re widely respected as a champion of new works –compositions by Adams, Ades, Knussen, and conductor-composer Esa-Pekka Salonen, to name a few- so please tell us what such works bring that is distinctive to the canon of violin music. What are your reasons for promoting new music as you do?

Leila Josefowicz: When I was in my late teens and performing a lot around the world, I started to have the feeling of questioning myself. Playing standard works for my lifetime, is this what I wanted to do? I realized that there are many people playing the same works over and over, and that adds to the mode of comparative listening that many classical music fans have. I started hungering for more spontaneity, more adventurous thinking in music, I wanted to be known for repertoire that is more daring, more unexpected, and not following in the path of many other musicians. My first experience playing a living composer’s work was John Adams, and it was as if the whole world opened up in front of me, for myself and my own creativity and inspiration, but for my career path as well. I decided at that point when I was in my very early 20s that this was the way I need to go musically as well as spiritually. I then worked with many composers that conduct such as the ones that you listed so that I could perform with them as well on the stage. I could write a whole book about how each composers’ aesthetic is and how they have made their mark on 20th and 21st century composition. But it was an amazing experience and continues to be as I collaborate with them.

JS: Let’s talk about violins. In 1993 and 1994 you had the loan of the famous “Ruby” Stradivarius, which you used on your first CD –the Tchaikovsky and Sibelius concerti. Since 1995 you have used Dr. Herbert Axelrod’s Guarnerius del Gesù instrument known as the “Ebersolt.” What do these instruments each uniquely offer and how does it feel to be playing them? What do you learn from them and how easily does a classic violin become your personal voice of expression?

LJ: It might be mildly amusing to some people, but I am not a player that is very much thinking about his equipment, other than am I comfortable, and is this working for me. I feel very lucky to have played some great Strad and Del Gesu. But truthfully they were never a perfect fit for me, either it was not quite comfortable with the size of the instrument or the sound maybe wasn’t quite powerful enough. The violin I play now by Sam Zygmuntowicz, made in 2013, is actually the perfect fit for me. We worked on the instrument together in that I gave him the exact measurements of a Bergonzi I was playing before and we had many sessions in different halls to get the sound of the different ranges of the instrument perfectly tailored to my needs. It really makes a big difference when something is made exactly for you! I feel very lucky and I couldn’t be happier with my instrument now. There is also something special about specializing in more contemporary works, and having a violin that is also contemporary.

JS: I’ve heard that you love jazz, people like Sarah Vaughan and Miles Davis. Why do you love jazz, why do these two matter to you, what other jazz musicians do you enjoy, and for what reasons?

LJ: Amy Winehouse is my favourite singer for right now. She has this incredible soul, but a sizzle in the sound that is so special. But there is also something very unapologetic about how she delivers everything she sings and I find that so amazing and admirable. It is so essential for me to have the sounds of these great singers in my ear, I love to try to bring that freedom and soul to the music that I play. And even if it doesn’t sound quite like it in a certain passage of contemporary music that I play it is always in the back of my mind. I want to try to replicate the same freedom that they have. I feel that a lot of the classical repertoire has not encouraged freedom in music making and I want to try to rectify that as much as I can.

JS: Developing as a professional musician and at the same time as a person with something akin to a life that other people call normal ………Does it all work out in trying to do both, does damage get done, how does one get through the hard times? I ask because, for one thing, you have a very demanding schedule and also because you are quoted as saying: “I sometimes think all artists need to have their hearts broken to become real – I have more self-understanding, and that comes out in my playing.”

LJ: I need to dig into the depths of my being and my personality and my soul to get the most out of my own capabilities as a musician, and if one hasn’t lived there isn’t much to play about. One can never pretend that they have lived in music!

Posted in Interviews from Music, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

ANGELA HEWITT: AN INTERVIEW WITH “THE PRE-EMINENT BACH PIANIST OF OUR TIME” JOINING THE TORONTO SYMPHONY FOR THREE CONCERTS ON APRIL 13, 14, 16 IN TORONTO AND APRIL 15 IN ROCHESTER

Posted on March 30, 2016 by strecker

James Strecker: You’ll be in Toronto and Rochester in April to perform the Bach Piano Concerto in F Minor BWV 1056 and the Bach Piano Concerto in D Minor BWV 1052. To begin, I’d love to know what each concerto means to you, both as a pianist and as a lover of Bach. Any chance you might squeeze in the 1058 which so long ago was the first Bach LP I ever bought?

Angela Hewitt: The TSO asked me, I suppose about two years ago when we first discussed this date, to specifically play some Bach Concertos, conducting myself. They also gave me a specific time limit within which to stay! The D minor is not just the greatest of the Bach Keyboard Concertos, it is one of the best concertos of all time. So of course I chose it. That meant that I had to choose one of the shortest ones as its companion. I went for the F minor rather than the A major -the only two that were short enough- because I adore its beautiful slow movement. It’s one of Bach’s most magnificent creations. They have both been in my repertoire for a long time and I have conducted them from the keyboard for well over 20 years now. So I think they were the best ones to choose.

JS: When you are the soloist with an orchestra, what do you expect of a conductor in this collaboration? What can the conductor expect of you?

AH: At its best, one adds to the other. A great conductor will inspire you, make you play your very best, add excitement, wit, tenderness….whatever the piece requires. And in turn he can expect the maximum commitment, sensitivity and knowledge of the entire score from me. But that really only happens very rarely on the highest level. Usually one just hopes to get through it more or less together, sometimes given the very short rehearsal time they have allowed you!

JS: Could you describe several such situations in your concert history when the collaboration was especially rewarding and –no names needed- when the experience was much the opposite.

AH: For sure, no names will be mentioned! Well, once I was given 15 minutes to rehearse the Schumann Concerto which takes 32 minutes to play through. That was interesting -not wanting to use stronger language! Once, because a conductor had taken too long over his Mahler Symphony, we had to stop before playing the final pages of a Mozart concerto because time ran out. He asked the orchestra if they would continue to the end, since it was really only a matter of a minute and a half, and most of them said OK, but a few walked off stage.

Some of them in the past have purposely ignored my requests, which I always try to say very diplomatically. It’s not an easy situation, I admit, because one is thrown together with somebody you’ve often never seen before in your life, and have to produce something very intimate. But when it works well, usually you feel that immediately, and it’s a great joy. A lot also depends on the orchestral musicians themselves, and their attitude. If they want to make it work, they will.

JS: I’ve heard from a number of long-established opera singers that young singers too often do repertoire beyond their physical conditioning, beyond their technical abilities, or beyond their personal maturity, and can sometimes thus do damage to themselves. Is there any way that this kind of situation is similar in any way to that of pianists and, if so, how is it so?

AH: I think it’s a bit crazy now how pianists want to play Rachmaninoff at age 12 or 13. I don’t think the body, let alone the emotions, are ready for it. What was exceptional at 17 years old in my day is now done age 12. Kids are forced too early into playing the big romantic pieces.

I was glad that I had teachers, beginning with my parents, who realised the necessity of studying first Baroque and Classical periods—and the ‘moderns.’ In my day ‘moderns’ meant Bartok, Kabalevsky, Canadian music. And then when they are in their early teens they would get into the big romantic stuff. I really didn’t do that until I was 15 years old which was quite soon enough. That said, I think it’s important to learn as much repertoire as you can when you’re young—especially in the years from say 15 to 21 years old—because that is what you will remember your entire life. Those pieces will always be a part of you.

JS: Two weeks before you arrive in Toronto, you’ll be in Beijing and Shanghai and on your day off between performances in Toronto you’ll be in Rochester doing another concert. And then a week later you will be doing a masterclass and recital at that wonderful Wigmore Hall in your own city of London. What I’d like to know is -with all your recitals, concerts, lectures, and masterclasses in a very busy schedule- what survival skills did you have to learn to keep your music at a desirable level and what kinds of personal adjustments have you made in order to keep going?

AH: I’m answering these questions sitting in Hong Kong Airport, having left Macau on the ferry this morning. Since I am on a long stopover, I found a wellness place here in the airport and had 45 minutes of massage. That’s how I keep going. Not much sleep last night or the night before, so I hope to make it up tonight. I’ve had a 13-hour time change this week. Plus I think I’ve picked up some parasites as I usually do when in Asia. But don’t worry—I travel with my anti-parasite pills, mostly garlic powder. We all have the special things that keep us going.

It’s amazing how you can still stay focussed and perform well even when you’re tired, though I try of course to avoid that. The music carries you through, and all the careful preparation you have done. I work very consciously on the memory now—I know exactly what I’m doing, though that’s not saying it’s foolproof. I’m only human! “Personal adjustments”? One starts to become a concert pianist at the age of 3, and then you never stop. It’s not a life for everybody. And you can’t have a normal home life. If you want that, don’t become a concert pianist or a travelling musician at all.

JS: Gramophone magazine named you ‘Artist of the Year’ in 2006 and you are internationally esteemed as a pianist. The Guardian in 2001 called you “the pre-eminent Bach pianist of our time” and London’s Sunday Times called your recordings of all the major keyboard works by Bach for Hyperion “one of the record glories of our age.” What I wonder is if such acclaim imposes on you a feeling of stewardship regarding how Bach should be interpreted. Do you feel responsible to be definitive and get Bach done the “right” way? Or is it a matter of each of your recordings being a step toward a better understanding of Bach’s music?

AH: There is no “right” way. I have worked hard—all my life—to develop the way I play Bach on the piano. It’s great that so many people have liked what I do, since you can never please everybody, and I don’t try to. In my masterclasses around the world, I simply try to pass on to students and music lovers what I have discovered, and to help them know what to do when faced with a page of notes but no markings, as is the case with Bach’s music and baroque music in general. Mostly it’s to do with articulation, phrasing, clarity of lines, tempi, the influence of the dance, making it sing. These are all things that help you be a better musician, and that also help you with the rest of the repertoire. I’m still “progressing”, I hope!

JS: Are there any mistakes or misjudgments that pianists sometimes make in their interpretation of Bach? Why do they do so?

AH: Well I suppose those pianists who play Bach with a lot of pedal and without a good rhythmic sense—these are two things that I find hard to accept. You need the clarity and the buoyancy in the playing. And when every beat is accented in the same way—that is terrible! Why do they do so? I don’t know—perhaps they don’t listen to themselves properly. It’s much easier to play with the pedal. Far less work!

JS: You have been asked this before, since you own a Fazioli, but what makes this increasingly popular piano so special? And in comparison with the Steinway piano, are we saying that one is better than the other or is it a case of each having its own uniqueness that brings something distinct to musical interpretation?

AH: The Fazioli piano is a remarkable creation. Not only is it beautiful in design, but it is a piano on the very highest level. Mr. Fazioli is constantly thinking of how to improve on his already marvellous design, and the quality of each instrument is extremely high. He tries each one personally -he is not only an engineer, but a pianist. The action is incredibly responsive to every variation in touch, and everything I imagine in my head I can produce with my fingers. It gives me complete freedom to play as I wish. The sound is also very coloured. Other pianos can have a beautiful sound but are much less interesting because the sound cannot be varied to such an extent as on a Fazioli. With the Fazioli you can get great power but also wonderful delicacy which, nevertheless, does not lose its brilliance. The high frequencies and reverberations are always there. This is a great feeling! It has wonderful clarity, especially in the lower register.

Of course each piano, even within the same make, is different. There are just too many variables. But I find with the Faziolis, especially the ones he is producing now, that they are all of an extremely high quality.

The other day in Manchester I played a very beautiful Steinway—a German one. But the American ones I can’t get on with at all. They require a far too heavy touch and have none of the subtlety and beauty of tone the Fazioli has. I am always totally exhausted afterwards.

JS: As well as your many Bach recordings, you have been enthusiastically appreciated for recordings of music by a number of other composers as well, none of whom there is time to discuss in detail. But let’s try it this way: for each composer named, please say briefly why you yourself appreciate this person’s music and also what you found especially interesting in recording it. Here we go: Mozart?

AH: The theatrical element, and the comedy/drama. The piano becomes a singer as well as a comedian.

JS: Beethoven?

AH: He is human. For his great range of expression—from the most tender feelings that are completely heartbreaking to the most exciting stuff—also incredibly noble.

JS: Schumann?

AH: His huge imagination into which you can completely throw yourself. And the expression of his love for Clara in his music.

JS: Ravel?

AH: Ah, Ravel! The spicy harmonies, the sensuality, the pianistic brilliance, the sense of the dance.

JS: Messiaen?

AH: The colour and the structure. Plus, like Bach, his faith gives his music great strength and moves me.

JS: Couperin?

AH: The various moods he creates. But those damn trills…!

JS: Debussy?

AH: Pianistic effects, but also the great clarity of his writing -which might surprise people. It’s not all impressionist stuff. Plus he wrote some good melodies!

JS: You’re an Ambassador for The Leading Note Foundation’s “Orkidstra” which is, I quote, “a Sistema-inspired, social development program in Ottawa’s inner city which, through the joy of learning and playing music together, teaches children life-skills such as commitment, teamwork and tolerance.” What does that mean, how successful is it, and why are you involved?

AH: It means exactly what it says. It’s a fantastic project that takes kids from the poorer areas of Ottawa, many come from abusive homes, and gives them a reason to smile, and something to look forward to every day, and something to accomplish. It’s wonderful to see them singing and playing together. There are some very gifted kids there who will go on to make music their life. These kids need a chance. One shouldn’t be prevented from learning a musical instrument just because one’s parents can’t afford it. The skills they learn in music help them with life in all its aspects. So I support them wholeheartedly.

Posted in Interviews from Music, Uncategorized | Tagged Angela Hewitt, Bach concerto, Fazioli piano, Orkidstra, Rochester New York, Toronto Symphony Orchestra, Wigmore Hall | Leave a comment

DIANA PANTON: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE CANADIAN JAZZ SINGER ON HER JUNO-WINNING CD “RED, HER LATEST CD “I BELIEVE IN LITTLE THINGS” AND ITS 2016 NATIONAL PARENTING PRODUCT AWARD

Posted on March 21, 2016 by strecker

James Strecker: Much has been written about the uniqueness of your voice and its emotional flexibility and truth with a lyric, so let’s ask you yourself to describe your voice and how you use it -in language that feels right to you. Did you develop the vocal qualities you have over time or did your voice and style feel natural as they are now right from the start?

Diana Panton: A voice is as much a part of your body as your spirit and as such, I think that it is natural for the voice to develop over time, just as a person develops both physically and spiritually. That said, I think my style and approach to music has been very consistent over the years. I’ve always tried to sing with honesty and I think that was evident even on my first solo release. I first started performing with a large 25 piece ensemble, but I’ve always felt smaller musical combinations are a better fit for my voice, hence why I opted for a trio for my debut album.

JS: How exactly did you get into singing jazz, what happened, and when was that?

DP: I heard a lot of classical music in the house growing up. My dad enjoyed Bach, Beethoven and Mozart, so this was what got played on the music system, which belonged to him. There was, however, an evening, when I was about 17, when he played a record by Ella Fitzgerald. I expressed such a keen interest in this music that my dad revealed a hidden collection of jazz records that had laid dormant in this house since before I was born. It was a surprise for me to learn that my dad had been a big jazz fan. Since that day, he has rarely played his classical LPs and now almost always listens to jazz.

JS: What are five major events in your development and career that made you the jazz artist you are today?

DP: 1. The just mentioned discovery of Ella Fitzgerald’s music in my dad’s record collection, followed by weekly visits to the public library where I discovered Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan and others and lots of original sheet music.
2. Attending the “JAZZ Camp” in Northern Ontario where I was able to do a workshop with the wonderful Canadian jazz singer Ranee Lee. Phil Nimmons gently pushed me on-stage for my first jazz performance in front of a live audience. I recall bassist Steve Wallace and trombonist Dave McMurdo paying me a compliment afterwards that really helped bolster my confidence.
3. My several years as vocalist with the Hamilton All-Star Jazz Band under the direction of Russ Weil. I had the opportunity to perform with budding young jazz artists, such as Adrean Farrugia and David Braid with whom I would go on to collaborate in smaller group settings. The HASJB took me on my first trip to Europe to perform at various festivals, including the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland. We also opened many shows for professional artists, including Trudy Desmond with Don Thompson as her bassist.
4. I met the legendary Don Thompson backstage after an opening set with the HASJB. He suggested I attend the Banff Centre for the Arts where Norma Winstone was the vocal instructor. There, Don and I had the opportunity to perform at the famed “Blue Room” and this prompted an invitation from Don that we record together. I didn’t take him up on his offer until about ten years later, but since then, Don has appeared on all of my seven recordings to date, along with the fabulous Reg Schwager on guitar.
5. On a subsequent visit to the Banff workshop, I studied under the great bebop singer Sheila Jordan. Sheila has been an inspiration to me ever since. At 87, she is still touring solo all around the world. Despite some hard times during her career, she has never given up or lost her love for music. She solidified in me the belief that all I need to do as a singer is just be myself and keep singing.

JS: You’ve had some jazz biggies in your corner all along, people like Sheila Jordan, Don Thompson, Yusef Lateef, and others. Which support meant most to you and how did it influence you?

DP: All of the above-mentioned supports meant a lot to me for different reasons. I am a largely self-taught jazz artist and it really helped to encounter some key artists -who know what they are talking about- along my path to assure me that I was heading in the right direction. All of them just told me to be myself and never change that, but they gave me the reassurance that I was doing the right thing.

JS: Tell us about your Juno-winning CD “Red.” How personal do you get in this recording and did you ever surprise yourself, or are you more a singer on top of her craft who can create the moods she wishes?

DP: Conceptual albums that create a mood have always been of great interest to me. Sinatra was an expert in this field and provided me with some inspiration. From the moment I had the idea to record the pink album -a collection of songs about new love- I knew there would eventually be a RED album, a collections of songs about a serious love relationship. I wanted RED to be an unapologetically intense album that avoided trite love songs. I don’t think the album was a surprise to me, though it may have been to some listeners. I created the album fully aware that it might not appeal to a mass audience, but the artist in me was compelled to make it regardless. Of course, it was lovely for it to be acknowledged with a JUNO award in Hamilton, my hometown.

JS: I really enjoy listening to the musicians you had with you on the CDs, with their sophisticated chops and seemingly instinctive feel for supporting you musically. Tell us about them.

DP: I have been blessed to record with phenomenal musicians. Don Thompson is always the first person to hear my secret conceptual ideas and song selections. We have a mutual admiration for many of the same songs which makes our collaboration very organic and fluid. Don has also encouraged me to write lyrics to some of his beautiful compositions. He lends his multiple talents to our recordings as arranger, bassist, pianist and vibraphonist.
Reg Schwager is another exceptional musician who has appeared on all of our CDs. From the first recording, I knew that Reg was something special. We never met or rehearsed before heading into the studio. After a simple “hello”, we began recording and after two takes we moved on to the next song. His instinctual feel of where we wanted to go with a song was quite remarkable. Don and Reg formed the basis of our trio and we have since toured the world together.
We have been fortunate to have some wonderful guests join us over the years – for example, we invited horn player Guido Basso to solo on pink. His humour and expression were perfectly suited to the mood of that album. For RED, Phil Dwyer’s saxophone playing added emotional intensity and passion appropriate to the theme. There have been many other wonderful guests who have joined us – all specially chosen for their ability to enhance the chosen theme. Most recently, the cellist Coenraad Bloemendal added some lovely atmospheric playing to “I Believe in Little Things”.

JS: What makes a good jazz accompanist and how does such a person affect what you do vocally? What exactly does a good accompanist give you as a singer?

DP: An excellent accompanist is a humble player that doesn’t always need to be centre stage. Great listening skills are paramount, as well as the ability to engage in a musical conversation that is free to unfurl as it goes along. If there is a good musical relationship between the singer and the accompanist, there is an unwavering feeling of support and trust that, no matter what happens, everything will be all right. When I work with great accompanists, such as Don and Reg, I feel most free to be myself artistically. Nuances, emotions and spirituality are enhanced and heightened by this musical exchange and this is when magical things can happen.

JS: One of my favorite cuts in “Red” is the duet with Harrison Kennedy. Will you be recording any more duets together and did you have as good a time doing this one as it sounds? What’s one of your favorite cuts on “Red” and why is it so?

DP: Harrison Kennedy is a fantastic vocalist. Our first duet appeared on the Christmas Kiss album singing “Baby It’s Cold Outside”. Our voices matched up so nicely that we decided to record again together on the RED album. Glad you enjoyed that track. The fun you can hear on this track was totally real -everyone in the studio was laughing and having a great time recording this song. Of course, it would be nice to record with Harrison again, so we’ll see what the future holds. Aside from the aforementioned track, another favourite off the RED album is “The Island,” a gorgeous song by Ivan Lins with lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman. This is an intense song lyrically that perfectly sums up the intent of the RED album.

JS: How natural to you is the compelling image you’ve established for yourself on your CD covers? Are you creating an image or are you simply being yourself? Who did the photography and design for you?

DP: I’m very involved with all the cover work for my albums. I always propose the conceptual idea and clothing/hair/makeup for the shoots based on what the theme of the album requires. I often think about album artwork at the same time as I select the tunes. I always try to be myself, but in truth I’m not always comfortable in front of the lens. That said, a good photographer can pull good photos out of me. The RED album was photographed by talented Hamilton photographer Jose Crespo. I always make the final selection on what photos get used in consultation with my sister, mom and close friend, because they know me and know what the best representation of my true self is. For the final design layout, I work -closely with a graphic artist. You may notice I have taken different approaches with my various album covers; however, I’m a multi-faceted person, so each cover is a true representation of myself.

JS: Your latest CD is “I Believe in Little Things” and it’s both a collection of favorite children’s songs and just as much a fine jazz album. Why and how did this CD come into existence?

DP: I had a number of moms emailing to tell me they had favourite songs from my existing repertoire that they would use to put their children to sleep. This spurred the idea to create an album with young listeners in mind. I also wanted the album to appeal to adults as well.

JS: “I Believe in Little Things” is very successful in Japan, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, to name a few, so, first of all, how do you explain your popularity in Asia and, secondly, are there any ways in which Asian audiences differ from North American or European audiences?

DP: It’s always difficult to fully ascertain why something is successful or popular with a particular audience. That said, I have noticed that my audiences in Asia seem to enjoy calm, quiet music that relaxes the mind and my music is a natural fit for this kind of listener. In addition, there is a larger CD and Vinyl buying jazz market in Asia. Fans in Asia are more likely to invest in a collector’s edition album and thus hard copy sales are stronger than in the North American market where downloads are becoming more and more popular.

JS: Tell us about three songs on this CD that mean a great deal to you and why is that so?

DP: I have a soft spot for A.A. Milne’s -author of Winnie-the-Pooh- “Halfway Up the Stairs” as I like the simplicity of the duo instrumentation and I like the lyrical message reminding us to enjoy the process rather than always focusing on the end result. Kids often do this naturally, but some adults need to be reminded to stay in the moment. “Sing” is a favourite from my own childhood and it was fun to give this song a jazz treatment. It was extra special to be able to speak directly with the son of Joe Raposo, composer of the title track, who was pleased we would be doing a jazz version of his father’s song “I Believe in Little Things”. The Sesame Street songwriter was interested in exposing children to a variety of different musical genres and he would often write songs with jazz, funk, Brazilian influences.

JS: You do some lyrics in French on this album -which seems natural since you teach French at Westdale High School- but I’d like to know what you enjoy about singing lyrics in French as compared with singing lyrics in English.

DP: It’s always a treasure discovery when I find good French lyrics to a song we hope to record. I really enjoy singing in French. The consonants seem softer than English and thus are very singer friendly. Portuguese is also a beautiful language for singing, but sadly I don’t speak this language. Fortunately, I learned French at school, so it does feel more natural to sing in French because I know what I’m saying so I can really tell the story.

JS: What is the hardest thing about being an independent artist nowadays, one who records and does many gigs each year?

DP: I think the shifting landscape of the music industry is the most unpredictable part of being an indie artist these days. One wonders, with the advent of downloads and now streaming, if CDs will become obsolete within the next decade. The vinyl market is experiencing a renaissance, but this is still a niche market. Without CD sales, it will become more and more difficult for indie artists to fund future projects with the declining revenue from hard copy sales. Unfortunately, streaming sales don’t amount to much, even if the music is reaching a larger audience.

JS: What do the next twelve months or so look like in terms of your musical career?

DP: I have some interesting gigs coming up, including the gala fundraising event at the Hamilton Art Gallery. I’ve had the opportunity to collaborate with several art galleries this year, which combines two of my interests, music and art. I will be appearing at festivals in Orangeville and Waterloo. There is a possible tour of Japan this summer and I’m really looking forward to being a guest performer at Writer’s at Woody Point in Gros Morne National Park this August in Newfoundland. I intend to record a new album at the end of the summer.

JS: Any advice for younger singers who would like to do what you do?

DP: Be yourself. The primary goal should be to make music because it brings you joy. The other stuff requires diligence, hard work and some luck. It doesn’t hurt to have a secondary source of income aside from performing, because making CDs is costly.

JS: What’s the importance of jazz for you and for our culture?

DP: Jazz brings me joy and solace. I feel better when I listen to jazz and when I sing. Jazz enhances my life and I would like to think that my contribution to the genre enhances the lives of others too.

Posted in Interviews from Music, Uncategorized | Tagged Canadian Jazz, Diana Panton, Don Thompson, I Believe in Little Things, Red, Reg Schwager | Leave a comment

DIANA PANTON: THE JAZZ SINGER’S AWARD-WINNING CDS “RED” AND “I BELIEVE IN LITTLE THINGS” – A REVIEW

Posted on March 20, 2016 by strecker

One tends to believe Diana Panton when she sings. In a prevailing cultural environment of massively marketed popular singers who strain for effect in whining or blaring a single attitude, Panton the jazz singer gives a solid impression that what she truly feels is what she sings, that what she feels is what you get. She mines both adult and child experience for their shades of emotion and her voice suggests that she knows deep within the feelings she sings.

Where others in the popular music realm may vocally assault, she instead draws the listener into what seems a personal world. She does so with inherent ease, unforced nuance in both style and meanings, and an unaffected and natural presence. She sings quietly because she has private things to say and we lean forward to hear the feelings revealed.

Panton has a distinct up close way with a song that’s hers alone, delicately rich and subtle, and full of implied wistful longings and sometimes an almost impish delight. She inhabits a song as a secure yet understated expression of intimacy, not as one simply singing a lyric and swinging inside a tune, but as one feeling her way through complex and what often registers as untested emotions. In what seems to be her private world, we sometimes feel unsure if we should be listening –are we listening to some else’s diary?

Panton floats on a delicately felt lyric and then floats imperceptibly away at the lyric’s end. Her musical lines are ethereal yet sexy in the way she slowly savors them. We hear the flavours of a life lived and felt deeply and still finding its way. Panton’s singing has the quality of a quiet gaze out the window –okay, that’s what I’m doing as I listen to “Red” -and she delivers what seems a mix of hope and personal damage done, subtle as smoke. She seems in the process of discovering her feelings as she sings them.

Panton doesn’t push the beat usually, but pulls back into an airy sensuality, one that discreetly aches and still searches. She holds back as if gathering her thoughts and her feelings. And she seems to be actually finding her feelings, which gives a sense of newness to the singing, one of fresh realizations on very personal terms. We think we understand these, but then they elude us as another vocal line tapers off into a personal world.

I suggest upping the volume a bit to hear and swim inside Panton’s many lightly but assertively-etched vocal shadings. But not too loud, because hers is a crack small group of top musically-potent musicians backing her and they do know how to step forward with assertive chops. Did I say backing? Well, actually, this is a very integrated group of voice and instruments, each one decidedly individual yet blended fresh and smooth into an instinctively realized mix. They string out their solos one to the next like phases of someone breathing, often gently.

There’s one of many beautiful cases of seamless in “Alice in Wonderland” – on “I Believe in Little Things”- where Don Thompson moves in on a run first taken upward into flight by guitarist Reg Schwager. Up we go with Schwager and then, when he stops, Thompson backtracks on the progression, changes a few of the upward steps, and then continues on keyboard. It’s an almost imperceptible musical delight –and there are so many of these on both CDs. I replayed even just that one brief sequence a number of times to again sit back in my pleasure and check it out again.

It makes sense that Panton has made an album of “children’s” songs, one rich with a sense of awe in face of newly experienced everyday things. Such is also what she conveys in “Red” –a person not new to the world but new to each feeling she feels in this world. We thus enter the personal realm of both a child and an adult, albeit one created in some classic and popular songs by adults who do know their craft with creative expertise -although they are, well, still adults, not kids.

But kids do get an enticing dose of genuine jazz in this CD, to be sure. And what makes this music equally true for everyone, whatever the age, is Panton herself. It’s not here a singer expressing what she imagines children feel, but instead an adult expressing what she herself feels. In fact, while listening to “I Believe in Little Things” I was pleased to notice myself having feelings I sometimes, unfortunately, put aside. I was happy to realize again that the child in oneself is not meant to age or go away. Let’s be real with ourselves –all of ourselves, these CDs seem to say. Let’s be real with others –adults and children- in this world of ours we are trying to understand.

Posted in Compact Discs, Uncategorized | Tagged Diana Panton, Don Thompson, I Believe in Little Things, National Parenting Product Award, Reg Schwager | Leave a comment

DIANE ESTHER ON LIFE AFTER INCEST: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE WRITER, CONSULTANT, ACTIVIST, LECTURER AND POET WHOSE BOOK “OUT OF INCEST” IS NOW IN ITS 10TH PRINTING……..PARTS I & II

Posted on March 6, 2016 by strecker

James Strecker: We have so much to talk about regarding a very difficult subject which you know first-hand –incest. Okay, then, up to knowing you had to write a book, what happened in your life?

Diane Esther: I didn’t meet my father until I was 5 years old. I was born after he had gone to England in the 2nd World War. My mother told me how my Daddy was going to come home one day and we’d all be so happy. My first memory of him was on the evening he returned home. He had to stop beating my mother to come to the couch and hit me – I was crying hysterically. He continued beating her until finally she ran into hiding on the eve of their 50th wedding anniversary.

My brother was born a year after my dad’s return, and Mom did her best to keep Dad away from both of us. She tried to find reasons for me to take my little brother away from the house; she’d send us by bus to get something from a store. When my brother was only about 6, she’d have him go down the street to a friend’s house for as long as possible, to keep him away from my dad.

When I was 11, my father began sexually abusing me. Mom was working all day and my Dad was home, as he didn’t have a job. I had to come right home after school to begin making supper. I’d sneak into the house, hoping not to wake him up. One day he was there, waiting in his chair. Thus began 3 years of abuse. After the first molestation, he simply said: “Now, we won’t tell Mom about this, honey; it will be our little secret.”

When I turned 13, it took me 3 hours on a Saturday morning to finally find the courage to tell my mom what had been happening with Daddy and me. I only told her because I believed I was pregnant and I knew that she would eventually see my stomach grow and the secret would be out and I’d be in bigger trouble.

Her first response was: “Are you sure you aren’t imagining this, honey?” I finally convinced her that it was true and she took two days to decide what to do. She told me she was too afraid to leave him, saying he’d find us and kill her, so she put a lock on my bedroom door, and told me not to let anyone in. Now, instead of coming home from school to prepare supper, I walked to where Mom worked, and we came home together. For the most part, this saved me from my dad’s abuse. However, whenever I became ill and stayed home from school, he simply told me to ‘open your door, Diane’, and he got me again. I knew who had all the power. To this day, I have not told my mother about those times, as I knew it would still hurt her.

So many times I wanted to tell someone else my secret. I felt like I was bursting at the seams and needed to get it out of my belly. It threatened to literally vomit out of me. Throughout school, I had no close friends; I thought everyone could see there was something wrong with me and wouldn’t want to be with me. Once in a while a girl would let me walk with her, if she had no one else to walk with. I called myself their ‘spare tire’. One such day I tried my best to broach the topic of my abuse. I thought I was saying things that she would take a cue from and she’d ask me just what I meant. Obviously, my conversation had gone all around the perimeter of the subject because she didn’t ask. My secret stayed firmly inside until I told a psychiatrist when I attempted suicide at age 25.

The need to tell became a scream in my head. I so desperately wanted to talk, to write, to cry out, to share the garbage I stuffed inside, but there was no safe place or person. I had decided, on the day that I attempted to get it out with my friend, that no one wanted to hear. One day I began to write little thoughts on little scraps of paper and hid them away. At no time did I dare write of the abuse itself; I just couldn’t seem to put that on paper. But my feelings needed to escape. It was enough for the time being to scribble on tiny bits of paper – but one day I’d write my book and get the ultimate relief.

JS: How and why did the idea for a book about your sexual abuse form in your mind?

DE: My secret and my horror and shame were all kept stuffed down in my stomach and in my mind. I so needed a way to vomit them out to be rid of them. At age 11, when I began scribbling words on paper and squirrelling them away, I surprisingly felt a tiny bit of relief. The need to write soon became addictive.

Books had been my comfort all through my life. I could hide in the stories and forget my Mom’s bruises and my black secrets. I would even prop up a book in front of me while my Dad was abusing me from behind. Though I couldn’t have told you what the words said or what the story was about, it helped to focus me a little away from the here and now. Words were my relief.

In high school, I began writing random stories and asked my English teacher to evaluate them. They weren’t for any class project, I just wanted to write – anything. And they certainly weren’t about my abuse. Oddly enough, one story came back with the remark: “a little gory, Diane?” Only then did I realize that I always wrote stories that had someone suffering great violent tragedies and I came to their rescue. A little telling for my role in later life, I know.

Twenty five years later, after I completed my therapy, one of my own counsellors asked me to co-run groups for survivors of abuse. My connection to these women was immediate; they felt safe with me, as I was ‘one of them’. They didn’t have to explain their pain; it was as if we had lived it together. When they spoke of their own poor self-esteem, I would assure them that this was so very common amongst survivors. When they confided their need to commit suicide, I told them that most survivors of sexual abuse attempt it, since it was the only way out of our pain that we could find. After a while, I wondered if they thought I was a phoney and was just saying these things to placate them. It then occurred to me that if I had written a book, I could say to them: “Just look at page 26 – yes, we all feel like we’re in a black hole!” This could help them to understand that they are not alone in their thoughts and feelings in this world, that they are not crazy. My book and I could stand witness to their reality.

JS: How did you feel about putting out something so personal in public?

DE: At age 44, I was itching to tell the world about abuse and how it ruins so many lives. I wanted to tell survivors there really was hope and to help therapists, doctors, friends, families, to see the ugliness of our abuse. For so many years I had to fight and claw my way over mountains of misinformation when trying to find someone knowledgeable to help me stay alive and work through my ‘leftovers’ from abuse. When I came out the other end, I hated the thought that other survivors should have to battle and fight and search for help all alone.

My decision to go public came the very week after I had confronted my parents about my secret. I had kept it all inside for those all of those 44 years. My father had never known that I had told my mother, as she made us keep the secret as ours. My mother had never been made aware that her role in keeping me in the house with my father and having to hug and kiss him in order to make us look like a normal family was killing me inside. I came away from 3 hours of giving all my burdens back to both of them – where they belonged – and I felt powerful for the first time in my life. I knew when I left their house that I had to start making people listen and to tell them that there was a way out of abuse.

The day I chose to go public came through a serendipitous opportunity at a seminar on abuse that I wangled my way into. Before 150 professionals – social workers, police officers, teachers, and others – I stood up at question period and announced my name and said that I was a survivor of sexual abuse and I wanted them to know how difficult it was to get help for us. The rape crisis centre and women’s centre had 18 months waiting list for groups, which was shameful. I said I was thinking of putting an ad in the Hamilton newspaper and just say: ‘come to my house and we’ll talk’. All 300 eyes had suddenly shifted towards me, in disbelief that someone had actually talked of her sexual abuse in public. In 1984, very few people were healed enough to say it out loud.

At the lunch hour, a reporter from the Spectator came to me and said: “I’ll save you the cost of an ad, if you’d let me do an interview with you.” I took a deep breath and say OK. Within a few days, my picture was on the front page and a 2 page article told my story.

Having taken that first huge leap to be in the public eye, I knew I would write my book. I just didn’t know how to make that happen yet.

Allow me to add here that completing therapy should not to be confused with completing my growth as a survivor. I’m always finding new places in which to make change. The difference is that now I don’t need to put myself down or hate that I’m not perfect, and I have the means to move forward to make even more progress in the road out of abuse.

JS: What exactly did you do once you decided to do a book? What did you go through in order to write such a difficult book? Tell us –using that dreaded term- about your creative process that brought the book into existence.

DE: Knowing that I desperately wanted to write a book filled me with panic. I didn’t know how to start; I didn’t have that much confidence in myself yet to think that I could write it alone. I’d only written high school stories, what did I know about a real book? But, I had heard of an author in Hamilton and decided to beg him to do it for me. I searched out James Strecker, phoned him and asked for an appointment. I was so shocked and elated that he would see me – imagine me, talking to a real author! He was my only hope.

I took a bundle of my mixed-up scraps of paper and notes, handed them to him and said: “Will you please write my book? I don’t care if you put it in your name, or as a ghost writer, or with me as co-author. I just really need it to get out there.” He said he’d think about it and let me know. An agonizing week later, he called and said: “I won’t write your book.” Gasp! Then: “But I’ll teach you to write and you’ll write it yourself.”

For three long years, through endless cups of cappuccinos, James dragged me along. Each page came back from him with more lines crossed out than not. Many months in, I began to despair and doubted myself more than ever. Then came a ‘Eureka!’ day. James suddenly recognized that my writing style simply didn’t fit well for prose – it looked like poetry. As I transferred each piece from prose, the poems felt like they wrote themselves -with tons more editing by a very patient James, of course. But there they were, the words I needed, perfectly describing the filth and turmoil I had felt inside and the long journey to life after abuse.

JS: In what ways was it difficult to write your book?

DE: As I described above, the first challenge was finding my own mode of writing. Once that became clear, this new path let in the joy and despair that I imagine every author feels – the high of finding that one word, the despair in re-reading and thinking it’s garbage. Well, I prefer to think that most of us go through that process.

The style of therapy that I had been so fortunate to find had taught me a process that allowed me to go inside my head and body in order to re-feel the emotions of each age I wanted to write about. With James’s tutoring beside me, I seemed to be able to discover that girl/wife/mom voice I needed to convey.

JS: I was asked once during an interview if writing the book was a therapeutic experience for you. What would you have answered, since I’m sure you’ve been asked this question many times?

DE: Writing the book as I chose to do, in first person, present tense, would have taken me to a bleak, desperate place, if I hadn’t dealt with my past so thoroughly in therapy. Every poem had me living those moments of a horrific childhood over and over, in minute detail. The therapy I had experienced had already led me back there and taught me how to dig my way back out again. The re-telling of the days and nights in my book would have been overwhelming for me if I had not completed that process. I did want the reader to be right in the moment with me, at each stage of life. I felt that it wouldn’t have had the same impact if it was describing what had happened in the past tense. Writing the book was definitely not an exercise in healing for myself, it just felt like the most effective way to take the reader into the life of every survivor of abuse.

JS: The book is now in its 10th printing and a few printings ago you added a whole new section of poems. Why did you do so?

DE: The original book ended in 1998, with me at age 58. By 2011, many new challenges and changes in my life had occurred, and there were many more thoughts and words I now needed to put out there. Some of the new poems talk about the past that I hadn’t included in the first edition. I also needed to let survivors know another lesson I had learned in that interim: that because we’ve completed our therapy, we’re not necessarily finished growing and will need to keep using those skills we learned as our life goes on.

JS: One sentence I’ve heard a number of times from you, long after the book had been published, is, “I want to make some changes.” Why do you sometimes feel the need to change the poems and not leave them as they are?

DE: I guess hind-sight really is 20-20. Reading the book over the years, I have found a couple of new ways of expressing myself. In some cases, a line just felt that it needed a word or two changed, mostly for better impact and understanding. In others, something just didn’t seem to be as clear as I had thought.

One small example is the poem entitled: ‘Sword Fighting’ – in therapy, I say to my husband: “No! I refuse to wash on Mondays.” Someone at one of my lectures asked me to clarify that line; it was confusing for her. I smiled as I realized that I was describing an era when we housewives did our laundry every Monday. I changed the line to read: “No! I refuse to do laundry on Mondays.” I guess I needed the right jargon to fit the current decade.

JS: Your book has been on several courses at McMaster University for quite a number of years. What are all the ways that students respond to your poems?

DE: When I look out at my audience, I can see the impact quite clearly reflected in many of their faces. Most of the students have read my book and are aware of the intense feelings it will evoke when I speak. Thankfully, the Professor has previously given permission for those students who would find the presentation too difficult to skip the lecture. As I talk of the psychological implications and the results of abuse on children as they grow, I see faces red with anger, to the point of rage, for the injustices in our -and possibly their own- lives. Many are holding back tears; disbelief is evident by shaking heads. Most of the students look right in my face, but I see so very many who will bury themselves in their books and i pads. I believe this is their way of taking themselves away from this recitation that is so difficult to hear. I am painfully aware that in this class of 500 students, there are dozens of survivors of abuse, both male and female. I inwardly praise them for using whatever means they need to protect themselves from this hard topic.

JS: You’ve told me many times how, after the end of each of your reading-presentations, students line up to talk privately with you. What do they say and what do you say?

DE: They talk of their own abuse, of a friend’s abuse, or ask how to help someone or get help themselves. Sometimes they need me to expand on something I have said. I have had many people confide in me about their abuse and say that I am the first and only person they have ever told. My heart swells to know that they now have found this one safe place to whisper their secret yet it breaks as I hear their anguish.

I do my best to assure them that there is a way out of abuse and if I made it, so can they. I have already spoken of the years of self-doubts that survivors of abuse live with. I’ve described the family dynamics and power division that puts the child at the bottom of the barrel, the years we spend searching for the way to heal and grow into the person we were meant to be if we had been born in the house next door.

Quite often I have a student who has brought their mother or a friend to hear me speak, and they come to introduce themselves. These are the people who are usually working through their own trauma and needed to come together for the information I’m providing. Sometimes the student tells me that when she finally broke her silence and told her mother about her abuse by her uncle or grandfather, her mother confided that he had abused her as a child, as well.

The majority of those who come to talk to me praise me for my bravery in speaking out. I find that so sad.

I have been speaking to classes for 32 years, and the class still find it a source of wonder that someone can be so public about their abuse and they consider me to be brave. I would rather that I was ‘old hat’ and that I am just repeating what they’ve known and have heard for decades – that my book and my presentation were obsolete. Thirty-two years later, and nothing has changed regarding the exploitation and abuse of children that still remains unspoken in society.

JS: What should a person who has been or is being sexually abused do about it? What should people who suspect that sexual abuse is going on do?

DE: The road ahead of a person who is ready to do something about their abuse may be a hard and lengthy one, I’m afraid. There are rape crisis centres, women’s shelters and centres, but so often there is a waiting list for therapy or groups. In order to provide information for this question, I went to Yellow pages and attempted to follow numerous links that are listed in Hamilton, for help. I found that 5 of the links provided were not in service.

I e-mailed The Women`s Centre at Interval House, Hamilton, and they replied that they have a group that explores the topic of living through an abusive relationship. They offer individual counselling but none of their services specialize in therapy for child sexual abuse survivors.

There is the Sexual Assault Domestic Violence Care Centre that provides services covered under OHIP. http://www.hamiltonhealthsciences.ca/body.cfm?id=281
These services are at the General Hospital and the Juravinski Hospital in Hamilton and McMaster University Medical Centre: (905) 521- 2100 ext. 73557 Business Hours only. I telephoned them at 4:30pm for further information regarding counselling and got their voice mail. I left a message which was returned the next day. I missed that call, and as of two days later, I’ve left 2 more messages that haven’t been returned.
Additionally, I found the SEXUAL ASSAULT CENTRE, SACHA at 75 MacNab St. South, 3rd floor, Hamilton Ontario L8P 3C1 PHONE 905.525.4573 For 24-hour crisis support please contact SACHA (905) 525-4162
I do not know the types and calibre of services from these organizations.

Because abuse, especially sexual abuse, is still kept secret, there is very little opportunity for people in any of the helping professions to learn exactly how to deal with a survivor in crisis. It is a catch 22 situation: we can’t talk about it, so nobody learns how to help us ‘get out the other end of abuse’, thus we fall further and further into despair and still can’t talk about it.

If one suspects that sexual abuse is happening to a child, do not hesitate. Tell the authorities immediately. Call Police, Children’s Aid or other Child Protection Services. The mandate in Canada is that when an abuse is reported, it must be investigated. I have had several battles when reporting abuse of children and three Children’s Aid offices told me that their mandate is that they cannot investigate without evidence. Just what evidence did they expect me to gather? No one will witness the abuse going on because it’s always behind closed doors. They were wrong. They must investigate even without evidence.

If a child has confided in you, your first response must be: “I believe you. I want to help you. I will be with you and keep you safe now. You are safe now.” Then follow through. Don’t stop making those calls and don’t leave the child’s side until she or he really is safe and protected. This all sounds the natural thing to do, but it will be difficult. You will face obstacles, such as I did when trying to get help. As I mentioned earlier, the danger is not in pulling families apart, the danger is in the child not being heard and taken from harm.

If the person is an adult, your response should be very similar: “I believe you. I want to help you. Do you want me to go with you and be with you while we find a safe place? You can talk to me anytime.” Say these things only if you mean it. It will be a long journey with that person and this cannot be solved quickly. Her -or his- abuse didn’t begin and end in a week or month and her healing work may take years. You may get tired of hearing about the issues; you may think that she isn’t working hard enough; you may believe that she’s just asking for pity; but I promise, as tired as you are, she is 1,000 times more weary of fighting. There may be calls in the night, on weekends, and when it is not convenient for you. Perhaps it will help to remember that you may be literally saving her or his life. Statistics tell us that 84% of child sexual abuse victims attempt suicide. Find your limits and talk about them with her. Help her find the services and a hot line that can take your place if you aren’t able to be with her.

JS: One woman I know who was sexually abused was told by her father to live with it. What do you say to people who tell you to get over it?

DE: People often use one or several pat and hurtful phrases when a survivor talks of their difficulties in life after abuse. If I had a nickel for every time someone said to me “just pull yourself up by the bootstraps,” or “but after all, he is your father,” or “it’s all over now, just forget about it and move on,” and most often: “you must forgive and forget in order to have peace” and these comments come from family and friends. We would love to forget about it. Most survivors spend years hearing these comments and thinking that ‘maybe they’re right, there’s something wrong with me that I can’t just forget or forgive, I must be so rotten that I can’t stop thinking and feeling this way.’ I know most people who have never lived through abuse just cannot fathom the depth to which it affects a person’s entire life and persona. Maybe they think they are being helpful, but I call their admonishments one thing: re-victimization. I hope that everyone reading this answer will make a decision to eliminate those comments from their vocabulary and calmly tell your friend: “I can’t begin to imagine what your life is like. Is there any way I can help?” And then just be with them and listen. One day, after much therapy, that person may be able to explain it properly to you, and they will move on in life on a healthier path.

When you speak of the abuser’s comments, I’m not surprised. I have worked with several survivors who in some way tried to confront their perpetrator, and were rebuffed each and every time. Sometimes I think there is a hand-book for abusers, their defences are so similar. The first time I confronted my father, when I was 44 years old, I told him that I remembered what he did to me as a child. He replied that “I just looked at it as a lesson in sex education.” The next time I told him that I was coming to talk and get all of my abuse out in the open with him and my mother, he said: “I’ll just deny it, just say it was your imagination”. As for “this will be our little secret” – that one would be at the top of the list for perpetrators responses.

The prime example of denial was on a TV show with Phil Donahue. He had on his show the father who was the abuser, the daughter he abused, and his wife. The father had admitted his guilt, he and the family had received therapy, and the daughter had forgiven him and they were now a happy, healthy, open family. During the interview, the father said all the right things, how he was ashamed and contrite, took the blame for tearing the family apart, and was now cured because of the therapy. The audience applauded his honesty and his recovery. In the final moments of the show, Donahue asked the father to give his advice to the fathers of daughters in the audience. He said: “Never let your little girl get into bed with you.” The audience applauded him again.

I admit to wanting to confront the family, Donahue and the entire audience: Did they not understand that he had just given the responsibility for his actions to a little girl? That he could only resist being a pedophile if the child didn’t come to his bed? And that their therapist could accept that level of completion and consider the family cured? And his daughter and her mother bought into his rationalization?

My cousin was abused by her father and my father and many other men over her childhood. When she finally confronted her father, he said: “but you climbed into bed and called me your ‘sweetheart’.” Blaming the victim; much easier than taking responsibility for his own actions.

I have worked with adult male abusers and heard all of the same rationalization from each of them. When a survivor is not healed enough to realize that their predator must try to shift the blame, it can be devastating. One woman who came to me didn’t think she should really be in the group for abused women. Her father had just sat on the side of the bathtub and soaped her all up, front and back, when she was aged 8 to 15. Survivors of so-called subtle abuse don’t realize that there are repercussions in later life. This woman was afraid to bathe her young daughter but didn’t know why.

JS: What about the accusation that you are milking your experience for your own benefit?

DE: The benefit to me over the past 32 years has been the fact that a lot of people have listened and learned so much more about the effects of child abuse, and how to help someone, than they would have if I had not put myself and my book out there. The moment I decided to speak publicly about my abuse, I calmed my fears by repeating a new mantra: ‘NOBODY should ever have to go through this alone’. I hope one day there will be survivors who come in contact with someone who heard me speak or read my book, and who now has a better understanding of what their needs are. I have admitted to being excited when I see so many people walking away with a clearer understanding of survivors. I’ll continue doing so until I can’t talk anymore, even if it is called milking it.

JS: How does an eleven year old feel as she waits for her daddy to molest her?

DE: Are there any higher impact words than terror; heart-stopping fear; panic to the bone? I wish I could find the way to express what is inside us. I made my way from school, a mile away from home, living these pounding senses every step. There were no friends to distract me; it was just me and my pulse getting harder as I got nearer to the house. I couldn’t stop living the last time he did it; I couldn’t stop visualizing the back door, leading through utility room, leading through kitchen, leading through living room -and to his chair. But one day he wasn’t there. Relief almost had me sagging to the floor. Until he called me to his bedroom. Now a new trail led to my horror. Try to conjure up the very worst fear you have faced in life; now try to put words to it as you re-lived it 5 days a week for 3 years. Oh, but in summertime there was no long walk of anticipation because it was waiting there the minute I awoke. Now I re-lived it all night long, waiting in a sweat for morning. I tried begging God to make it stop. I tried putting every blanket in the house, even my Mom’s old winter coat over my head, trying to keep out the images. Nothing worked. Nothing made it quit. Maybe putrid is a good word for the feeling.

PART II

JS: Your life has been very difficult, having your sexual abuse, a marriage that ended, an adult son who needs your constant attention, and your own physically painful condition to live with. Tell us about each of these, other than the abuse, and how each has played out as a factor in your life.

DE: My life seems to have been lived in sections, some of which you mention. Each of the stages was linked to and marred by my abuse as a child. Until age 55, when I left my marriage, my rock-bottom self-esteem permeated every one of my phases.
I left my father’s house at age 20 to get married. I had spent my teen years pining for a man I thought would rescue me and bring me everlasting happiness. I never had an inkling about the sad ways in which my next 34 years would be lived. It seemed to make my husband happy to put me down and deny me whatever might make me happy, even kind words. As I saw him waiting for me down the church aisle on our wedding day, I thought to myself: “this man will never make me happy.” I knew I could never do any better and walked towards him.

He made me cry almost daily, and I believed that I deserved the put-downs and insults. Many years into our marriage, I’d meekly try to tell him that he’d hurt me; he’d just huff and walk away or say he was just kidding.

Therapy for my child abuse spelled the demise of my 34 year marriage. As my self-esteem began to grow, I could no longer keep my eyes closed to his emotional abuse. It took many years and many failed attempts before I felt strong enough to hold my own against his denials. I finally told him that I was aware that I had changed the roles in the middle of our marriage, and I was no longer the Diane he consented to wed. I at last convinced him to go to marriage counselling with me, but he fired 3 therapists in a row– they were calling him on his abusive behaviour so he walked away. In the end, he refused to go any further in therapy and I chose to end our marriage.

Our first son was born after a difficult pregnancy, when I was 23. He has been diagnosed with everything from retarded to developmentally disabled, to autistic, to cerebral palsied, to pervasive developmental delays, and has epilepsy. Through fighting for help for him, I found a tenacity that I had never had before. Hundreds of programs, professionals and exhaustive routines had taught me not to take no for an answer, at least regarding his needs. I suspect that newly found drive had carried over into my own quest to seek out the right people and programs for my own healing and to not quit until I found what I needed.

When I sought out help for my abuse after yet another suicide attempt, the psychiatrist explained for the first time that child abuse would have many ramifications later on. I was shocked and delighted to hear this news. I had no idea that abuse as a child would be affecting me as a grown woman, since, after all, it was all over now. Since I knew where my problems came from, I could go home and be all better because there finally was a reason for my crazies. He didn’t tell me to make another appointment so I carried on alone for another 9 years.

My next attempt at suicide led me to a different psychiatrist. I told him on my first visit that I had been sexually abused as a child, because I knew one must tell one’s psychiatrist everything. I went to this man for 7 long years, and we never spoke of my abuse again. He actually thought he could fix me by teaching me how to be a better housewife and cook.

One day I saw an ad in the newspaper for a class on Assertiveness Training and wisely decided I could use some of that. I asked my psychiatrist for his permission to go to the course and thankfully he approved. That was the last time I saw him. The class was taught by a woman who knew a therapist who used what my husband called ‘hocus-pocus’ theories. Her methods were, indeed, unorthodox for the time: role-play, Gestalt, imagery, and other modes as she saw fit. This was to be 18 months of the hands-on work that I wish every survivor of abuse to experience. This was the spring board to the rest of my life Out of Incest & Abuse.

The physical pain I now endure doesn’t seem to be a blessing. It certainly makes every move a challenge and affects my life in quite a negative way. I am learning yet another life lesson: it’s OK to take one day at a time and not lament the days that seem to be so unproductive. Notice the word ‘learning’ – that means still working on it. I will not let it stop me from my lectures and am hoping to find a way to use blogs and YouTube to continue to reach out to people who want to learn more about child abuse.

JS: What effect does previous sexual abuse have on a marriage?

DE: There are likely as many ways that sexual abuse effects marriage as there are marriages. I know women who are called: cold, frigid, non-sexual. I also know some who are highly over-sexed. When a little child is sexually abused, they are sexualised at an early age and this can run the whole gamut of outcomes.

In my case, I was very shy, and not only in regard to sexual activity. It wasn’t that I was afraid of men – I was afraid of both men and women. Afraid because I felt inferior to them intellectually. With my husband held so high on the pedestal I placed him on, naturally I was afraid to displease him in every way. I responded sexually in a non-aggressive, what would be considered then, a normal manner. It was in the 60’s, after all. He was as inexperienced as I was, so our sex lives were satisfactory to both of us.

For many years, the physical act of intercourse threatened to take me back in my mind to the days with my father. I quickly learned to repeat the mantra: “this is not my father, this is Al; this is not my father, this is Al.” The words kept me in the present, at least.

The major effect my abuse had on my marriage is explained in the previous question. I was so sure that I was stupid and he was so very smart that I let him run roughshod over all of my feelings and emotions. He soon learned that he had all the power and felt it was his right to please only himself at my expense.

Sadly, these positions we held in our marriage extended to our sons. I allowed him to be the absent father. Early in our marriage, when my boys were aged 1 and 2, my husband moved us to Detroit, Michigan, with no discussion with me beforehand. We spend 8 years there, where he worked 7 days a week, 12 to 14 hours a day. And I thought this was the way a marriage worked: he was the big important bread winner and I was the dutiful meek housewife keeping the children quiet and away from him when he came home tired. As he rose to prominence at work, these roles became more engrained in each of us. Neither of us stopped to look at the impact this would have on our sons later in life.

JS: Care to comment about the helping professions? In fact, please evaluate how they succeed and how they fail in helping people who have been sexually abused.

DE: It has been a lot of years since my involvement with the therapeutic community. When I speak to the classes, I hear from my audience that there is still a wide range of expertise – and lack thereof – in therapy being offered. Sexual abuse survivors are most often expected to partake in talk, or cognitive therapy. While this method certainly has its place, it is usually not enough for survivors of abuse. We also need more hands-on types of work. We need to express ourselves more physically, in a safe, controlled setting, with a knowledgeable practitioner. I have taken part in several styles, easing into them with delicate guidance from my counsellor: from talking to little Diane on a pillow, to beating up my father on a big cushion, to confronting my mother on her role in my abuse. I don’t hear about those forms of therapy being widely used for survivors, and I wish there were more places for counsellors to learn these methods. Unfortunately, if we are able to find a person who provides these very unique and powerful styles of therapy, there is almost always a fee for service. This puts these methods and people out of reach for most of us. Survivors are once again left to battle alone.

The other issue I have with some therapists is their lack of understanding of the depth of harm that was done to the child. They actually have grown impatient with their clients because of what they perceive as lack of progress. One young woman had attempted suicide for the 3rd time. Her therapist told her: “You always lean towards suicide, don’t you?” Another was told that her therapist of several years couldn’t treat her anymore because she was so ‘negative’.

Again, I must mention that the understanding of the inner workings of a survivor is not often taught in schools, because there aren’t enough of us who can talk about what we carry inside, so there are very few books that delve into those black holes. But I wish they’d listen and look a little harder in order to find new ways to help us.

JS: Do you also deal with male victims or survivors of sexual abuse? While we’re on the choice of words, which should we use –victim or survivor- and why?

DE: Several years ago I was asked to work with both adult and adolescent male offenders of abuse. This was at Thistletown Regional Centre in Toronto. The programs they offered there were originally for young offenders who had been caught abusing children, most of whom were their own sisters or step-sisters. Over the course of their therapy, the boys confessed that they had also been sexually abused. Therefore, the Centre was mandated to report the men who perpetrated abuse against these boys. They then began running therapy groups for the adult men as well. It was soon realized that the non-offending parents and the siblings and victims of the boys were in need of support groups, as well, as their lives had been turned upside down by the incarceration of spouses and sons.

Thus, I began workshops for the boys who were both abusers and abused, as well as the adult men, plus the women and siblings groups. I was so impressed with the calibre of treatment for every one of these groups. While working with the young offenders, I took hope in their progress. I saw that the majority of the boys were really making great strides in their work. As I worked with the adult offenders, I didn’t get a sense that many of them were serious at making change. They still did a lot of blaming, denying and they reminded me of the man on Phil Donahue’s show: talking about progress but trying to turn it around to the victim.

My sense of the words ‘victim’ and ‘survivor’ has changed over the years. In the beginning of my own therapy, I thought of myself, and called myself, a victim. Slowly, over the course of years, I preferred to be thought a survivor. Perhaps each individual needs to use the term that they feel fits them better. I automatically follow their lead, but in my speaking and writing, I use the term survivor -who deserves that description better than one who has lived through hell and is still able to put one foot in front of the other, even if the footstep is wobbly?

JS: How did you feel about yourself at age eleven and how do you feel now? Why the change?

DE: I’ve mentioned my own nicknames I called myself at 11 – right through until age 44: ‘a piece of shit under my father’s shoe’ and ‘a spare tire’. I couldn’t look anyone in the face. In school, I’d bribe kids with my desserts just to have them around my desk for five minutes. I assumed that every friend I had was just killing time with me until someone better came along. I did all the contacting, even in my adult life. I felt the need to keep connections with people who should have remained just a passing acquaintance. I visualized myself running down the street, wrapping my hands around people’s legs and begging them to be my friend.

The change came slowly, as I went through my therapy. It didn’t come in one fell-swoop, it had to grow – I had to grow. I went through life with the feelings of a 13 year old, even to age 44. This isn’t unusual, by the way. It is proposed that a survivor of child abuse stops growing emotionally at the age at which either the abuse ends, or becomes its most traumatic. For myself, I thought I was pregnant at age 13, told my mother, and she attempted to protect me, so the abuse was only sporadic afterwards. Therefore, my abuse became its worst at 13, and almost stopped at 13. I was aware of all the above child-like behaviours; I just couldn’t stop them from happening.

As I grew emotionally in my group work, I learned how to like and then love the 13 year old Diane. Another trick I learned in therapy, I used to love red licorice as a kid; so whenever I had to do something scary as an adult -even to the point of being petrified to go to a lawyer’s office to sign a will- I carried a piece of licorice in my pocket and would touch it to remind myself that I was there for little Diane and I would protect her when she was scared. Slowly, my therapy helped ‘her’ to grow into adulthood with confidence and appropriate behaviours.

JS: Tell us about one of your poems that means a great deal to you and explain why it does. Feel free to quote, if you wish.

DE: Only one? There are two that are equal in my heart, and for completely opposite reasons. The first poem in the book, Definitions, was written after I thought the book was complete. After 3 years of slogging, I decided it was done at last. I sat on my deck in the sun and tried to relax. Something kept niggling at my brain and wouldn’t stop. I tried pushing it away, but eventually I said out loud: “Oh, alright!” I went to my typewriter and the poem rushed out of my fingers onto the paper all by itself. Seems I had subconsciously worried that there would be some people who could read my book and just not ‘get it’, meaning the truth and the depth of the impact that sexual abuse has on a child’s life. I wanted to hit them between the eyes with a piece that they would not be able to ignore or deny. It is a vicious piece, for which I do not apologize. This is the life of a child victim, like it or not.

The poem that ties for my favourite is: Life Present.and here’s a quote: “Life. I choose Life. I pursue Life. I missed you, Life. Before I knew we could be friends, I missed you.” How exciting; I could love life at age 54. This is the present I wish for every survivor. I wish them a life free from tears and fears, no matter what age it begins. And I am living proof, at age 75, that it can be done and that it is worth the struggle and whatever time it takes: “Sorrow? I feel none. I search my heart over and find not one regret to whittle away our today.”

JS: I’m sure you hear many accounts of sexual abuse from many people. If you don’t mind, please tell us about a few that have troubled you most.

DE: The ways and means that perpetrators invent to abuse are way beyond believable – to the point that society really does not want to hear about them, as much as the victims don’t want to live them. Turning away and not reading or listening will truly be adding to a victim’s anguish. We need you to listen, to believe, and to walk through our reality with us. If it makes you sick, try living it daily.

There are three ugly, too true stories that I will relate here.
1) The 12 year old girl comes home every day after school to find her older brother and three or four of his friends waiting for her – she knew they would be. The brother charges them admission. They enjoy themselves by first raping her, then they play the contest they had invented: insert a broom handle into her vagina and measure how far each of them could lift her off the floor. Winner gets bragging rights.

2) The little 6 year old girl cringes as her Sunday ritual begins with Mom lowering the blinds in the sun porch. 6 men arrive and take their seats around the room. These men include my father, her father, her father’s 2 friends, her uncle and her cousin’s husband. They each rape and pass this little girl around the room, twice. Mom ignores her cries and goes about doing her household chores.

3) My cousin was sexually abused by her two brothers for many years. It was actually a family affair: Mom and Dad were the leaders, and they had begun abusing the little girl by age three. They also abused their sons, and taught the boys to sexually abuse their sister. This went on for many years.

When these 3 cousins were grown, one of the brother’s two teenage daughters confided in their auntie that their father, her brother, had sexually abused them most of their lives.

This man had divorced, remarried and now had 2 new little babies. His teenage daughters were so afraid of him, even though they had left his home, that they would not speak up or add their own charges. My cousin was so petrified that he would also assault his two new little ones that she decided to charge her brother with her own abuse, in the hopes that Children’s Aid Society would investigate his current family. She prayed that they CAS would remove the children from him and take them to safety.

The court case was long and brutal for my cousin. After some time, her brother was convinced to plead guilty to lesser charges, in exchange for a lighter sentence. So he admitted in court that he had sexually abused his sister for many years.

Upon this admission, Children’s Aid went to his home and spoke with the two little children – they were only 2 and 3 years old at the time. The father was removed from his home for the weekend while the examination occurred. The outcome was that the social worker found no evidence of abuse and allowed him to return to his family the same day.

He was given 3 years probation plus 3 years mandatory counselling in mental health plus 3 years in a group for pedophiles. He did not spend one day in jail.
An aside: this cousin was the little girl who lived in dread of Sundays in the sun room.

JS: What do you feel we should do about the sexual abuse in our society? And what about the misconceptions about sexual abuse –how should we handle these?

DE: Believe it or not, we could eradicate all child abuse in our society. Here is a poem from my book that should give each and every one of us the clue on how to do that:

LONG STORY SHORT

Reads like fiction:

Little boy
born unwanted,
out of wedlock,
beaten, abandoned.

Teenage boy
impregnates girlfriend.
Denies his son.

Young man
has a daughter.
Breaks his wife’s spine.

Grown man
rapes daughter
and niece and who knows
how many more.

Old man
charged with rapes
after 31 years.
Pleads not guilty.

Guilty man
blows out
his brains.

Not fiction:
My father’s obituary.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Our villages choose to turn their backs on anything that smacks of ‘something doesn’t seem right in that family.’ They are all so afraid of getting involved, whatever that means to each of them.

An example from my own life: my picture and article had been in the Hamilton Spectator shortly before I attended my 30th High School reunion. Over the course of the evening at the reunion, I spoke with 3 men I went to school with and who lived near me as we grew up. Everyone was talking about their lives, where they worked, what they were doing now. To each of these 3 neighbours, I mentioned having written a book on abuse. One man simply turned and walked away, saying: “Ooh, I can’t talk about that.” The other two each put their hands up against their faces; one said: “You know, I thought something funny was going on in your house,” and the other: “I always thought there was something wrong between you and your father.”

The 9 year old girl in me wanted to screech: “WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU DO SOMETHING? WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING! I would have given the world to have someone tell an authority of their suspicions and either taken my father away or taken me to a safe home.

I mentioned earlier here that many times the organizations that exist to protect children do not follow through properly. They don’t wish to disrupt the family. They worry that an innocent person might be harmed by an investigation. They don’t seem to realize that the danger is not in causing an innocent person some grief; the danger is in allowing a vicious, perverse individual to have free access to a helpless child.

Years ago, there was a program in some Ontario kindergartens that was teaching those little ones how to identify an ‘uh-oh’ feeling in their tummy. They were taught that those feelings could mean they were scared or uncomfortable with someone or something going on around them. They were advised to go to someone safe to talk to and tell about it. What a wonderful way to allow children to listen to their gut instincts.

Wouldn’t it be perfect for each and every one of us: neighbours, friends, relatives, acquaintances, to listen to their ‘uh-oh’ feeling inside when we hear or see something unusual going on in a child’s life? And then to act upon it?

What if teachers look at their kindergarten class today and realize that one in every three little girls and one in every 5 little boys sitting there are going home to be abused? What if my father’s teachers had not turned away at his bruises and black eyes when he was 5? We know that approximately 33% of abused boys will become abusers. Since we’re aware of this fact, it is the shame of society that we chose to ignore the signs that stare us in the face every day. We are the adults who have the power – why are we so afraid to use it to protect our little children?

If we keep in mind what I have written about, in my book, and said in this blog; if we chose to leave our misconceptions behind and remember exactly what child abuse looks like and feels like, and believe that the ramifications of those heinous acts do last for the rest of the child’s life, perhaps we wouldn’t be so hesitant to take the side of the children. I know it sounds like Nirvana, but we really could stop abuse in its tracks by taking the scary steps of identifying, reporting and taking every abused child to safety. With appropriate intervention and therapy, these children would be allowed to grow up into healthy adults who have no propensity for abusing others. We can break the cycle of abuse – we can fix this.

JS: I know you have a great deal on your plate, but what are your plans for your immediate and distant futures?

DE: As always, I want to continue to speak out. There are more avenues now than I’ve had in the past: blogging, face-book, video blogs. I’ll continue lecturing on courses at McMaster and hopefully, energy permitting, expand that to other Colleges and Universities. Reaching more people through my book is also a dream.

At age 75, I don’t dwell on the distant future – I’ll accept and use up every year that arrives, take a deep breath and keep on talking.

JS: I almost forgot, one last question: “I loaned a copy of your book to a woman who had suffered sexual abuse in her family and she felt that Out of Incest was negative and just dragging up horrible memories that were best forgotten. ‘So what good does this book do?’ she asked. ‘It doesn’t give us any hope.’ What is your response?”

DE: Out of Incest & Abuse is designed to take the reader through the child’s life, from her horrible youth, right through the years of struggle, and to be with her into her growth in therapy. These early poems certainly are the difficult ones to read. In these pieces, we see her attempts to forget those days and forge on alone. It is soon evident that trying to stuff it all away is not working, as witnessed by several suicide attempts by age 40. She, too, wishes she could just forget the wretched past. Believe me, every survivor of abuse has tried their best NOT to drag up the memories.

The hope begins with her first step at seeking help, in an Assertiveness Training group. This is where we begin to find the positive messages and that glimmer of joy. She knows that she must move on from standing still and letting waves of black, smothering shit from her past engulf her for the rest of her life. At age 40, she knows that trying to forget is not getting her anywhere except to more suicide attempts.

Read and watch as her newly found hutzpah and daring allow her to take the first hesitant steps at moving forward by confronting her past realities – that is the way therapy works. With a trusted, knowledgeable and compassionate guide, she begins to feel movement forward. After each tiny move, there is elation, in spite of the mess she must look back into first. She wants to take another and another and another. A good therapist will never leave her in a despairing moment; they will find a way to celebrate the progress made, no matter how tiny, knowing there will be more good days ahead as they work together.

My way of completing my journey out of incest was to confront my parents, as described in the book. Each survivor will find their own needs and methods, and I have been with many of them as they performed their own ceremony or celebration at the end of their road. And not one of the people I’ve been privileged to accompany on their way would wish that they had stayed with their memories inside. The risks were worth the rewards, a thousand times over.

Whenever I give someone my book, whether they are a survivor of abuse or not, I tell them that it is not a nice, fireside read. It is a difficult book to read from the beginning, where the bleakness may be overwhelming. It was a wonderful survivor who told me that when she read it, after about 4 pages she threw it across the room. Good for her, looking after herself. She later went to it, picked it up and started reading from the back to front. That way, she was hearing and feeling the power-taking days and the positives that came about due to the healing in therapy.

I thought that was brilliant, and that is exactly what I tell my students and audiences, and anyone who will be reading the book. Perhaps your friend may find hope in the poems that follow the survivor through those clearly empowering days as she moves into a life free from the ‘left-overs’ of abuse.

JS: We have to end here and there is still so much to talk about, so, since I got to ask one last question, is there anything you yourself want to add that we should know?

DE: I’ve mentioned survivors who have had multiple abusers and how common that is. I never did tell my mother about my abuse at the hands of my great-grandfather, my brother and my minister. In my mind, these were rather inconsequential incidents compared to my dad’s daily abuse. When I was that young, I could put those molestations to the very back of my mind and they became little niggling secrets that I could almost ignore.

When I was a child, little girls wore pretty dresses, which made it easy for my great-grandfather to sit me on his lap, on top of his erection, so he could fondle me in secret. I didn’t know that was what it was called then, of course, I just knew it didn’t feel good. On top of that, we were actually sitting about 5 feet away, opposite my great-grandmother as she lay in her casket, with family and friends all around. Thankfully, that was the only time he managed to get to me.

My minister used to have us little girls into the manse for tea – one at a time, of course. There, he’d fondle us as his wife was at the church making preparations for Sunday’s service. I didn’t know for many years that I wasn’t the only one. Eventually, someone told on him and he was shipped to another parish.

My brother was known by all the girl cousins as having WHT -that’s Wandering Hand Trouble. As my older cousins warned me, “Don’t get too close to him or he’ll grab a handful -of breast.“ A couple of times he took me to into a culvert that was surrounded by trees, within shouting distance of people passing by on the sidewalk. But I didn’t dare shout while he had me fondle his penis and he played with my genitals. About the third time this happened, I did manage to run away and walked up behind some people and stayed with them for several blocks.

I relate these stories here to help people understand that very seldom is a child abused by only one perpetrator. If we’ve lived a life that included any form of abuse, we begin to take on the persona of a victim. I hate to put it that way, but sadly, that is the truth. I walked to school and home, looking down at my feet. I was the girl who played alone at recess, twirling my arm around the flagpole. If we pretend that a potential abuser was looking over that playground to find a victim, don’t you think he would choose a girl like Diane, rather than a bouncy, hollering, in the middle of the group little girl? We were just so easy to abuse.

Posted in Interviews with Writers, Uncategorized | Tagged Child abuse, Diane Ella Esther, Diane Mattiussi, Incest, James Strecker, McMaster University, Out of Incest & Abuse: A Book of Hope | Leave a comment

James Strecker Reviews the Arts

MRS WARREN’S PROFESSION AT THE SHAW FESTIVAL: PROSTITUTION, MALE HYPOCRISY, MOMS AND DAUGHTERS, AND AN ALMOST THREE DECADE BAN

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AT THE SHAW FESTIVAL: SPECTACULAR SETTINGS, INTRIGUING CHARACTERS, CONSTANT FLUX

UNCLE VANYA AT THE SHAW FESTIVAL: VERY HUMAN AND POETIC AND REAL

JAMES EHNES: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ACCLAIMED VIRTUOSO VIOLINIST DUE TO APPEAR WITH THE TORONTO SYMPHONY ON JUNE 9, 10, 11

BUD ROACH: AN INTERVIEW (PART I) WITH AN EARLY MUSIC DYNAMO ABOUT HIS WIDE-RANGING MUSICAL CAREER AND HIS HAMILTON CONCERT SERIES “HAMMER BAROQUE” (TAFELMUSIK COMING ON MAY 25 AND LUTENIST SYLVAIN BERGERON ON MAY 28)

LEILA JOSEFOWICZ: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE CELEBRATED VIOLINIST AND PROMOTER OF NEW MUSIC, DUE TO PERFORM A CANADIAN PREMIERE WITH THE TORONTO SYMPHONY IN TORONTO, OTTAWA, AND MONTREAL IN MAY

ANGELA HEWITT: AN INTERVIEW WITH “THE PRE-EMINENT BACH PIANIST OF OUR TIME” JOINING THE TORONTO SYMPHONY FOR THREE CONCERTS ON APRIL 13, 14, 16 IN TORONTO AND APRIL 15 IN ROCHESTER

DIANA PANTON: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE CANADIAN JAZZ SINGER ON HER JUNO-WINNING CD “RED, HER LATEST CD “I BELIEVE IN LITTLE THINGS” AND ITS 2016 NATIONAL PARENTING PRODUCT AWARD

DIANA PANTON: THE JAZZ SINGER’S AWARD-WINNING CDS “RED” AND “I BELIEVE IN LITTLE THINGS” – A REVIEW

DIANE ESTHER ON LIFE AFTER INCEST: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE WRITER, CONSULTANT, ACTIVIST, LECTURER AND POET WHOSE BOOK “OUT OF INCEST” IS NOW IN ITS 10TH PRINTING……..PARTS I & II

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