A Journey of Faustian Proportions

Friday was filled with unexpected moments; I managed to crush a deadline at work before it could me, I bumped into a really good little jazz combo at a restaurant I was expecting to be a quiet little place, enjoyed interesting conversation with a single serving friend and successfully stifled laughter that might have seen me expelled from the opera house.

My friend Deborah and I went to see the Canadian Opera Company's production of Faust. When we arrived, an elderly gentleman had his cane resting on my seat. He moved it so I could sit down and held it in his hands. I told him if he wanted to rest it between our seats, he was welcome to and he said he'd be fine and didn't want to forget it when he left. A couple more moments of settling in and the show began.

Faust, as an old man, sits centre stage, clutching a cane singing about how life has trapped him, and how he'd give anything to be young again. Considering the gentleman next to me, this seemed a lot like art imitating life. The beauty of David Pomeroy's vocal performance in the title role though quickly drew me away from those thoughts and deeper into the story. Faust trades his soul for a return to youth and the promise of love by striking a deal with Mephistopheles. You know this is disaster.

A lot of the grandeur I enjoy about opera was on display with some excellently performed scenes, a standout being the festival complete with fireblowers, acrobats and a huge Mother Earth puppet. Photo of Me and Deborah an Earth Mother Puppet

There were some bits of awkward staging, some minor scenery glitches and a missed lighting cue or two but I seem to be the only person that is annoyed by these things.

At intermission, I stood in the cold with Deborah while she smoked and I talked about smoking.

When she decided it was time to go and powder her wig, I returned to my seat. I asked the old gentleman what he thought of the production and he became quite animated.

I'm completely tone deaf you know!!; I'm only here to look at the sets and the lighting; don't you think that last bit with all the flowers was ridiculous? You do know that flowers don't typically all grow at the same height?

We shared a few laughs at some of the more ridiculous conceits of the production and I asked if he worked in theatre. He said no, I just like approaching staging and lighting from an intellectual standpoint and figuring out what I would do differently. I told him that I was here first for the music and singing and he said that together, we'd make one hell of an opera goer.

On the new opera house, he said I loathe it! It's so Canadian, could it be any more boring than this? I had to agree that it was a bit beige for my liking although much better acoustically than the previous venue. Before the curtain went back up, he managed commentary on the way people dress when going to the opera these days along complete with a 'we used to dress just to get on an airplane' tag which I found charming.

In the second act, there a few more technical glitches and at one point a minor character wearing a brace and using crutches tripped on the edge of the set and nearly pitched over. It was as unintended as the urge I had to burst out laughing. I clamped my hand over my mouth and kept it there while my stomach tensed to suppress the urge.

I enjoyed losing myself for a few hours in things I love to do. And the two vocal performances I enjoyed most happened to be by Canadians. Perhaps someone is conciously trying to paint in colours meant to offset all that beige?

It struck me a short while later that the old man I'd talked to was an older version of me. I was pleased to see that I wouldn't be begging the devil for a return to youth but rather would be still relishing in the opportunity for an occasional curmudgeonly outburst.

I just hope I do it with the same twinkle in my eye.

The Revolutionary Costume For Today

I didn't really say much about the audience at the Opera now that I've had time to read my earlier post. For shame.

The horseshoe shape of the new joint allows for much better people watching opportunities than there were at the old barn. For instance, in the row ahead of me were a fun husband and wife team. She had some pretty badly frosted hair (you should see the cake!) and her best Mom jeans on while he had on a wrinkled denim shirt and khakis.

Mom turned around before the show and said to Dad while looking directly at me oh look, their row is raised up a little, that's what we need because you're so short. He swiveled his head around and giggled heyyyy, I resemble that remark! and they both laughed like it was the first time they'd gone through this routine. One artful arch of my left eyebrow ended the possibility of inter-row friendship. They went back to their programs, I went back to my perusing.

Sure there were lots of interestingly attached hairpieces and limbs on display but on the whole, I give the crowd points for trying. As soon as the lights went down, as always, about 1/3 of the blue haireds nodded off. Once some of them start forgetting to wake up, there's going to be some prime real estate opening up in the house.

My friend Deborah looked quite amazing in a long silvery skirt and a sort of gauzy blouse with an antique crystal necklace completing the look. She said the skirt was from Holt Renfrew and worth a fortune but she'd gotten a deal on it for $10 at Goodwill. Nice work garbage picker.

As for me? Well, I always make an effort. I looked dashing in my black shorts with the stripe down the side, think tuxedo shorts if tuxedos came with shorts, my Rock Me Amadeus ringer tee and of course, my good roller skates.

Next up: A Day At The Races.

Falling In Love Again

Last night was my introduction to our new opera house and in between bouts of hacking and coughing freely today, I'm still excited about the experience.

There are seats for 2000 but it seems even more intimate than that. The sightlines are amazing, the acoustics finely tuned, the seats comfortable and what's this? Legroom?! There may well be things that mean more but to a 6 foot tall galoot, legroom is right up there. With only 14 rows between me and the orchestra pit, everything was perfect.

Ladies, you'll be pleased to know that there are double the washroom facilities for women in the building. There were complimentary cough drops at all of the bars on each level and also plent of space to roam about, mingle and generally see and be seen.

Mozart's Così fan tutte was on offer and it was a fitting start to what hopefully is a brilliant season. Apart from a few curtain glitches that the performers managed to work to their advantage in this farcical piece, everything else was perfect. The singing was excellent on all accounts and every performer could be heard along with rather than in competition with the music as often seemed to be the case at the old venue. What a treat.

I overheard people say that parts of the performance were too slapsticky. Please, it's a comedy! Play along folks, it can't all be high art.

When I wasn't laughing at the antics of the cast, particularly Shannon Mercer as Despina and Kristina Szabo as Dorabella, I was wiping away the tears at Michael Colvin's beautiful tenor. I'm not sure of the name of his solo in Act 1 but it was such a pure and moving sound that I forgot to check the surtitles, it had to have been about love.

Even as I suffered with the worst cold ever visited upon a mortal, like the good patron I am, I waited until applause to cough, only sneezed once and refrained fully from the urge to spit on all those who dared to wear jeans to the big show. Who says I'm not charitable? Rawther.

Get Your Freak On

I finally got my opera tickets for the coming year which makes me quite happy.

This will be the Canadian Opera Company’s inaugural season at the shiny new Four Seasons Centre. That seems a lovely and perfect name until you remember the corporate association. When I think of people singing in hotels, I think more about vacation sex than opera.

Corporate naming and renaming annoys the hell out of me but if it gets big money thrown at the arts, I guess I can live with it. Lyle Lovett made a point about this too when he played here at the Hummingbird Centre.

The Hummingbird used to be the O’Keefe so we went from a beer company to a business solutions company. As a venue, it’s pretty good and I’ve seen some great shows there but for opera, it’s a little like being in a barn.

Apart from claims of acoustical superiority and improved sightlines at the Four Seasons, I read somewhere that the people watching opportunities will be vastly improved owing to the design. Now that’s something worth talking about.

It’s all about you and the night and the music. I get to point and laugh at what you’re wearing, revel in my superior taste, hear some great singing and go home with a smile on my face. I mean, it’s not vacation sex but it’s still pretty damned good.