Two new concert reviews.

I was asked by Seen and Heard International to review two performances in quick succession: one featuring Zubin Mehta conducting the Symphony Orchestra of India and the second, Operalia 2024.

Here are the links to my reviews:

Maestro Zubin Mehta returns to his roots – Seen and Heard International (seenandheard-international.com)

Operalia 2024 in Mumbai: a mixed bag – Seen and Heard International (seenandheard-international.com)

Comments are welcome on the S&H website, below each review!

"West Side Story" - renewed but timeless as ever!

Modern remakes of classic musicals rarely hit the mark, much less present a worthy alternative to the original. An exception is Steven Spielberg’s magnificent “West Side Story”.

Part-hommage to, part-enhancement of Jerome Robbins’ path-breaking original film, which in turn was based on his Broadway staging inspired by Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”, the film speaks to a modern audience in language that is gritty and contemporary, while still remaining grounded in the now somewhat old-fashioned format of a musical.

To begin with, it is far more violent, not just in the bloody, bone-crushing fights but also in dancing that is visceral enough to be called aggressive. This is immediately apparent in the Prologue which begins, like in the original film, with balletic leaps; but soon becomes genuinely frightening and sets the tone for this film.

The original Prologue was filmed in New York City on the lot which was ear-marked for demolition to make way for what is now Lincoln Center. Here, the film is set in that actual locale, which is shown partly destroyed. Thus, the turf-war between rival gangs becomes all the more desperate, as both are now vying for supremacy in a fast-dwindling patch of real-estate. In this, the “Jets” are made up of USA-born children of European immigrants, while the “Sharks” are immigrants themselves from Puerto Rico, after it became part of the USA. Thus, there is a cultural and linguistic (English/Spanish) divide, adding to the battle over limited resources; and the conflict between Shakespeare’s Montagues and Capulets is given real, contemporary resonance.

In this scenario, the plight of the “star-crossed lovers” Tony and Maria, also becomes all the more poignant. Maria’s brother Bernardo, leader of the Sharks, becomes the Tybalt-character, while Mercutio is represented by Riff, the leader of the Jets and Tony’s best friend.

Tony Kushner’s screenplay, augmented from the original, adds colour and motivation not only to individual characters but also the larger groups they come from; and even to the forces of law-and-order, charged with the unenviable task of policing these troubled streets while dealing with their own prejudices.

All the characters from the original play/film are given revised backgrounds; but the one given a near-total make-over is that of Doc, who runs the neighbourhood drugstore where the Jets hang out. Here, it is Doc’s widow Valentina who owns the shop. She is played by Rita Moreno, who won an Academy Award for her portrayal of Anita, Bernardo’s firebrand girlfriend, in the earlier film. As a Puerto Rican who married a white American, Valentina becomes the example to which Tony and Maria aspire; and it is appropriate that the song “Somewhere” with the lyrics “There’s a place for us, a time and place for us” is given to her.

Ms Moreno delivers a deeply moving characterisation; and newcomer Rachel Zegler is utterly believable and sincere in the role of Maria. It’s a shame that both were not nominated for Academy Awards. Everyone else gives committed performances, true to their characters and making-up a fabulous, tightly-knit ensemble.

But it is evident that Director Steven Spielberg is the real star of the show. This is passionate and supremely skilful film-making, aided by the starkly-etched cinematography of Janusz Kaminski. Both bring this sadly present-day, urban war vividly to the screen.

Even so, and rightly so, one is left with the words that end Maria and Anita’s final duet: “When love comes so strong, there is no right or wrong; your love is your life”.

Shobha Yatra/It Happens Only in India

This review was written in the year 2000. Never published, as far as I can remember!

The independence of a country is never easily won. It takes men of commitment, daring, strong ideals and breadth of vision to galvanise a nation and throw the intruder out. This actually happened in India, a half-century ago.

Fifty-three years on and nationalism is a forgotten emotion. And no wonder, for we have become a nation riddled with greed, pettiness and hypocrisy; with scant respect for law-and-order, discipline or decency; aping the worst of the West and paying mere lip-service to our own heritage.

"It Happens only in India" is the English version of Shafaat Khan's Marathi play, "Shobha Yatra", a scathing expose of what we have become vis-a-vis what our founding-fathers fought and died for.

The play drives its point home by way of an ingenious juxtaposition. Six people, each dressed-up as a character from India's freedom-struggle, are about to take part in a ceremonial procession commemorating fifty years of Independence; ironically organised by an underworld don or "Bhai". The procession keeps getting delayed; and the group waits in a godown, unable to leave as they are in costume, "trapped in history".

As they wait, they reveal their own natures, superficially similar to those of the historical personages they are portraying; but, in actuality, diametrically opposing their idealism and all that they stood for. Each "actor" is linked, overtly or covertly, to the unseen, sinister figure of the Bhai who is pulling their strings --- all except the woman playing the Rani of Jhansi, a school-teacher who could be pregnant. She becomes a symbol for the Motherland, threatened with annihilation.

There are secondary characters, important to the play's development --- a street urchin, blissfully unaware of history, who brings refreshments to the group in the godown; the Bhai's top henchman; and an expat Indian girl from America called Barbie, a trendy photographer who creates sexual tension.

Shafaat Khan's play draws from many genres --- comedy, satire, thriller and Theatre of the Absurd, combining all these in a multi-layered and richly provocative tapestry of truth and make-believe, historical reference and present-day reality, masks and faces, wheels within wheels.

The original Marathi production, directed by Ganesh Yadav, tears into the script and goes for the jugular in a manner that keeps one at seat's edge. Actors enter and exit at will, seemingly without reason; the production revels in real and hallucinatory images of terror and violence, all highlighting the play's Absurdist leanings.

Vikram Kapadia's production is quite different. It is based on Shanta Gokhale's English translation, which flows naturally and is easy on the ear. The director has preferred to retain Hindi in certain passages; and one wishes he had also encouraged the actors to use Marathi interjections. With names like Bapat, Jadhav and Sabnis, it is surprising that these characters never communicate in their mother-tongue, however fleetingly.

This production is, in a word, tame. Gone is the wildness, the headlong pace, the feeling of unpredictability. Moreover, the play has been cut, most damagingly in the scenes involving the school-teacher/Rani. Scenes have been transposed and shuffled at will, severely compromising the building of tension. This re-arrangement often puts similar episodes back-to-back with "buffers" removed, making the play seem repetitious and long-winded.

Initially, one welcomes the relaxed pace, the ability to drink-in detail. But the tempo-rhythm hardly ever accelerates; there are far too many pauses and delays in actors' responses, pointing to insufficient rehearsal and the fact that the cast for any given show depends on who is available on that day, as each role has been double-cast.

Having seen both, the Marathi and English productions, each twice, one becomes aware that the latter lacks the cohesion and confident drive of an unvarying team in sync with each other.

Even though the actors in the English production seem somewhat tentative, they generally turn-in committed, professional performances, some better than others; Hemu Adhikari's Bapat/Gandhi and Suruchi Aulakh's Barbie being particularly memorable. However, nobody eclipses the sheer incandescence of Vidula Mungekar's school-teacher/Rani in the Marathi version.

The sets and lighting seem somewhat self-conscious. The fastidious harmony suits the English production's sedate tone; but is a far cry from the heady combination of hyper-realistic set and vividly imaginative lighting in the Marathi production.

For those who do not understand Marathi, "It Happens Only in India" is one way (although diluted) of experiencing "Shobha Yatra". A Hindi production is also playing; a Bengali version is apparently in the pipeline.

The importance of "Shobha Yatra" can never be over-estimated. In the derivative world of contemporary Indian theatre, it is a work of rare originality. Its path-breaking style and raw, pithy substance make it one of the great plays of our time.

Shakespeare's Scottish tragedy...set to music.

This is the text of a lecture I had given at the NCPA some years ago, prior to a screening of Verdi's opera "Macbeth" based on Shakespeare's play.

FROM STAGE….TO STAGE

Shakespeare’s Scottish tragedy --- in the words of Norman, the title character in Ronald Harwood’s play “The Dresser”: “That is the unluckiest play in the world….that play would turn a good fairy wicked!”

Be that as it may, it certainly inspired Giuseppe Verdi to write some of his most impassioned music; making a decisive attempt to break from the musical strictures and conventions of opera in the mid-19^th Century, to the extent of giving the text paramount importance in many scenes; with the music becoming subservient to its needs.

The best example of this is Macbeth’s “dagger” soliloquy in the opera. It follows Shakespeare closely; and its music is lyrical yet declamatory, free-flowing WITH the text, instead of adapting the latter to any formal musical structure. Verdi’s markings and instructions are astonishingly detailed and descriptive here, purely “expressive” in nature, totally motivated by dramatic pulse and impulse. In fact, for the duet that follows with Lady Macbeth, Verdi insisted (and I quote) that this “definitely must not be sung” but “acted and declaimed with hollow, masked voices”. And as for Lady Macbeth herself, Verdi rejected the original choice of singer because she had (and again I quote) “a wonderful voice, clear, flexible and strong, while Lady Macbeth’s voice should be hard, stifled and dark. Madame Tadolini has the voice of an angel, and Lady Macbeth’s should be that of a devil.”

Surely this was unprecedented in the history of opera till then; and it goes to show how Verdi, in “Macbeth”, took the art of the lyric stage, a stage further.

Another example of this; and an extremely important one: in the play, after the murder of Duncan, Macbeth re-enters and speaks the line: “I have done the deed.” This we know to be the turning-point, the point of no return; and it is interesting to see how Verdi and his librettist Piave do not translate it literally (though they have pretty much stuck to Shakespeare’s words upto that point in the scene) --- they interpret “I have done the deed” as “Tutto e finito” which means “everything is finished” or “its all over” and has a far deeper, truer meaning in context.

A line of such immense significance is given an equally significant musical motif, ending with the rise and fall of a semitone on the word “finito”. It haunts the opera in various guises, just as the image of Duncan’s murder haunts the play. The motif sounds like a sigh, and is heard most clearly and chillingly on a wind instrument during Lady Macbeth’s sleepwalking scene, punctuating her demented utterances with an eerie wail.

And what has David Pountney, the director of the performance you are about to see, done with all this? He is a true “auteur”, investing each character, event and idea in “Macbeth” with an image that is unique and startling, forcing you to re-evaluate your previous impressions and see these entities afresh, often in a completely different, revelatory light. One such example is that of the letter in which Macbeth narrates the prophecies of the witches to his wife. This is what starts the ball rolling; its "image" is repeated in the second scene with the witches and, significantly, during the sleepwalking scene.

Yet, despite his very personal interpretation of the components, Pountney presents the spine of the play, its germ, with frightening lucidity --- unnatural events, when set into motion by man, have unnatural and dire consequences. And he conveys this in an interpretation that is very much in sync with Verdi’s music; and yet is very much of our time, loaded with symbolism familiar to a modern sensibility, thus taking Shakespeare’s, and Verdi’s, “Macbeth” another “stage” further.

So, William Shakespeare through Giuseppe Verdi through David Pountney to us, will be our topic of discussion after the screening. During which, the only sounds we need to hear are those of music, NOT mobiles. And since this will be a long evening, there will be a short intermission after Act 2, approximately 80 minutes from now.

Enjoy the film.

Thank you.

The Truth

This review was commissioned by Mumbai Theatre Guide. An edited version is available here:
https://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/the-truth-english-play-review-naseeruddin-shah.asp


This is my original piece:

“The Truth” written by Florian Zeller, translated by Christopher Hampton.

Directed by Ratna Pathak Shah and Naseeruddin Shah.

Prithvi Festival at the Royal Opera House.

9 November 2018, 6pm.

 

The young playwright Florian Zeller is a wunderkind of the French theatre, one whose plays have been very successful across the English Channel. “The Truth” is the second play written by him to be staged in this city by Motley, who also presented his hugely acclaimed “The Father” last year.

The two couldn’t be more unlike. Whereas “The Father” is a searing study of dementia and its consequences, “The Truth” has been described as “a millefeuille of truth and deceit” (by Kate Kellaway in The Guardian) and takes a hilarious yet unsettling look at the pitfalls of marital infidelity. In this, it owes as much to Harold Pinter’s “Betrayal” as to the tradition of French farce.

The play reminds one of a Baroque court-dance in which couples switch partners; but with only two main players onstage at a time. Motley’s production has adapted the script, setting it in Mumbai. The characters are certainly familiar: educated, well-to-do professionals, artfully co-ordinating their convoluted private lives and seemingly normal societal existence with nonchalant skill. Here, we have two couples in which the husbands are best friends; and one of them is having an affair with the other’s wife. But what appears to be a simple, one-sided deception turns out to be far more intricate; and gradually reveals a Pandora’s Box of lies and cover-ups. The cheating husband finds himself increasingly embroiled in these, ending with the horrifying if hypocritical realisation that he is more sinned against than sinning.

This production, co-directed by Ratna Pathak Shah and Naseeruddin Shah, is presented in a naturalistic, conversational style rather than with farcical intent, thus making the characters and their predicament all the more believable. But the pace tends to slacken sometimes, tension abates; and one misses a more crackling, pointed approach. Even so, the inter-personal dynamics of the characters in each scene are perfectly realised.

Naseeruddin Shah plays the husband in an understated, almost casual manner…though not entirely devoid of mannerism. The underplaying is in keeping with the production as a whole; but, while it is true to the character by itself, he doesn’t quite come across the footlights and grab you. However, Mr. Shah displays a surprising comic ability in the delivery of some of his lines, with impeccable timing.

As his wife, Avantika Akerkar offers a highly focussed interpretation, in which every thought and emotion is precisely expressed, vocally and physically. It is a riveting performance, especially in the final scene during which the wife’s own  duplicity is tantalisingly hinted-at.

Shruti Vyas, in the role of the friend’s wife, is a direct, “open” actress who makes the character and what she is going through immediately communicable, while Gaurav Sharma as her husband presents a cool façade of subterfuge.

The production’s design is simple yet effective. The single set ingeniously becomes six separate locales, each presented convincingly (without any glitches, thanks to efficient stage-management) and accurately lit by Arghya Lahiri and Rahul Rai. The sound-design and execution, by Saahil Vaid and Dhruv Kalra, is realistic though sometimes the sound-effects were a little too loud. One was really happy to note that body-microphones were not used by the actors; and one welcomed the natural aural perspectives owing to well-judged sound re-inforcement, in which the superb acoustics of the Royal Opera House certainly played their part.

“The Truth” might be regarded simply as a comedy about extra-marital sex, not too different from the many bedroom-farces staged in this city over the years. But, beneath its entertaining surface, it forces one to examine not only the tenets of modern (a)morality where “anything goes” but also how far one is prepared to go…and how much truth is good for you.

Baby's Blues

Drama review commissioned by Mumbai Theatre Guide, available here:

https://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/babys-blues-english-play-review.asp

“Baby’s Blues” by Tammy Ryan.

Directed by Ila Arun and K.K. Raina.

NCPA Experimental Theatre, 7 October 2018.

 

The bond between mother and child is tenacious, yet tenuous. The very act of carrying a living, breathing being inside oneself for nine months, the pains of birthing and the ensuing sense of emptiness and loss all cumulate to an experience that can be extremely exhausting and traumatic, yet cathartic and joyful. However, some women suffer an ordeal which is worse than others, owing to post-partum depression.

Tammy Ryan’s “Baby’s Blues” is a harrowing study of this crippling phenomenon and how it affects the physical and mental well-being of one such mother. In this, Susan is unable to come to terms with what she has gone through and how to deal with its end result. Her conflicting feelings about her baby: helplessness, anxiety, frustration, rage and love, take her on an emotional  roller-coaster that descends into depression and psychosis. But ultimately, acceptance and love become her salvation.

The play is constructed like a spring that is progressively wound tighter until it reaches breaking point; and is then released. Yet there are moments in the writing where the focus meanders…until it comes back on track. This production, jointly directed by Ila Arun and K.K. Raina, follows its course faithfully, with the result that sometimes the tension seems to flag; but is quickly remedied as the play resumes its trajectory into this young woman’s private hell. The play mixes the surreal hallucinations experienced by Susan along with her reality; and, in this production at any rate, one is sometimes left a little confused: for example, as to who exactly the young girl at Susan’s side really is.

Dilnaz Irani initially seems a little one-notey as Susan in the first half; but comes into her own superbly during the second half in the confrontation with her husband, which is perhaps one of the truest, emotionally-naked scenes this critic has seen onstage. Her reserves of sheer energy: physical, vocal and emotional, are quite remarkable; and allow her to graph the woman’s devolving condition vividly.

She is ably partnered by Ankur Rathee, who is utterly uncontrived and natural as her husband; and an excellent supporting cast, among whom Anjula Bedi stands out as Susan’s mother, giving a chilling glimpse into what made her daughter what she is.

The production is an object-lesson in the art of staging, with an austere yet beautiful set, designed and gorgeously lit by Salim Akhtar. The music and sound-design by Sanjoy Dazz and Ambar Das is atmospheric and perfectly judged in its conveyance of an unsettled psyche. The popular children’s song, “Row, row, row your boat” becomes a leitmotif, heard in various vocal and instrumental guises through the play, and is entirely appropriate. The use of body-microphones on the actors certainly helps in immediacy and comprehension of the all-important words; though occasionally it becomes a little obtrusive. Having said that, it is still relatively subtle, compared to the heavy-handed, over-loud applications of this technology that one has sadly become used to in the theatre these days.

In sum, this production of “Baby’s Blues” does wonderful justice to the play. Although it can be heavy-going, it is ultimately uplifting; applying not only to the agonies of giving birth but to life itself, as in Susan’s final realisation: “Honey, you’re on your own…sink or swim”.

A ballet manqué

Commissioned by and originally published on Mumbai Theatre Guide here:

http://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/swan-lake-english-play-review.asp

Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake
Royal Russian Ballet,
Jamshed Bhabha Theatre, NCPA.
March 2018.

Some classics are so representative of their genre that it is impossible to think of either without recalling the other. In this, “Swan Lake” is the quintessential ballet in the Russian classical tradition. The image that it conjures, of ballerinas in white tutus representing maidens turned into swans, has remained steadfast in our consciousness for more than a century.

It is one of three fairy-tale ballets by Peter Tchaikovsky, whose music is lyrical and impassioned, poignant and thrilling, symphonic in its scope. The haunting “swan theme” is surely one of the most easily recognisable pieces of music ever written, ubiquitous in its popularity.

The original version of the ballet is rarely performed. Most productions are based on the 1895 revival by the Kirov Ballet, supervised by Tchaikovsky’s brother after the composer’s death; and choreographed by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, with additional music by the conductor Riccardo Drigo. This revival also made changes in the story of the ballet.

The scenario currently performed is this: Prince Siegfried, while hunting in the forest, comes across a lake with a group of swans who turn into beautiful women, headed by their ‘swan queen’ Odette, with whom he falls in love. She and her maidens have been cursed by the magician Von Rothbart -- a spell which can only be broken through true love. The prince promises to make her his own, if she will come to his palace the next day for a celebration during which he will announce his choice of bride. But the magician makes an appearance at the party with his daughter Odile, who has been made to look exactly like Odette. She captivates the Prince, who swears his love to her. At that time, Odette is seen fluttering at the window. The Prince, realising his error, rushes to the lake, into which she jumps, killing herself. After a battle with Rothbart, the Prince follows her, the spell is broken, the magician dies and the swans become human; the Prince and Odette are seen united in the hereafter.

In keeping with Soviet ideology, a new version was created for the Kirov Ballet by Konstantin Sergeyev in 1950, based on the 1895 revival but with a happy ending, in which Siegfried fights Rothbart and tears off his wing, killing him. Odette is restored to human form; she and Siegfried are happily united.

This production by the Royal Russian Ballet follows the Sergeyev version, with a few alterations. There are a couple of surprising additions, such as an extra variation for Odile; and the inclusion of the seldom performed Russian Dance among the other “national dances” which make up the divertissement (show-pieces unrelated to the story) in the palace scene. There are some minor cuts; but the beautiful and melancholic Dance of the Swans at the beginning of the final act has also been removed and this is a real loss, like some of the more daring and difficult dance-movements (unforgettable to anyone who knows this ballet) which have been omitted or simplified.

Not surprisingly, considering this is essentially a touring company, the number of dancers has been downsized. Many of the set-pieces have fewer dancers than usual; and sometimes the stage looks too sparsely populated, for example, in the scene at the palace. Even so, the dancing on the whole is more than competent. The corps de ballet seems to be made up of young, well-trained dancers with sound, disciplined technique. Thus, the famous dance of the four cygnets in Act 2 was executed with razor-sharp precision and in perfect unison; the Neapolitan Dance was delivered with pizzazz by Arina Chumak and Alexei Bogutskiy; Yurii Gregul stood out for his unbridled energy in the Spanish Dance; and the Russian Dance was performed solo by Natalia Kazatskaia with great charm and delicacy.

Denis Tarasov as the Jester was agile and graceful, though he missed some of the character’s impishness. The rest of the principals have been double-cast, each set dancing on different days. Anatolii Khandazhevskyi did what was required as the Prince, with decent if not spectacular execution of scissor-leaps and other balletic demands, while Artem Tymchuk as Rothbart was quite unremarkable in the earlier parts of his role but came into his own during the final act, becoming a creature of real power and menace.

Any performance of “Swan Lake” depends ultimately on the prima ballerina who has to portray both Odette and Odile. It is a well-known fact that it is extremely difficult for any dancer to do equal justice to both, as they are in extreme contrast. So was Olga Kifyak’s level of accomplishment. Her dancing of Odette could best be described as grammatical. There was cold classicism and an aristocratic mien with an expressionless face…but where was the vulnerability, fragility and, ultimately, heartbroken despair? Her Odile, on the other hand, was near-electrifying. The dancer suddenly seemed to come to life, investing this character with the sly sexuality that was needed; and was able to dispatch the role’s notoriously demanding choreography, including the famous 32 fouettés (turns) with aplomb.

This production uses a pre-recorded soundtrack, most of which is played by the orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre (home of the Kirov Ballet) and conducted by Valery Gergiev. Thus there are inevitable compromises, since a live orchestra isnt present to tailor the music symbiotically with the dancing. Moreover, the sound-levels appear to have been ‘normalised’ so that softer passages (for example, the violin solo in the pas de deux) seem unnaturally loud. And there is a fatiguing excess of bass…though this could well have been a contribution of the sound-system at the Jamshed Bhabha Theatre. Speaking of which, its stage looked cramped, in spite of the fewer than usual dancers involved.

The set is old-fashioned (which is not necessarily a bad thing!) using painted backdrops to represent the palace gardens, the lake and a hall in the palace. The initial impression is favourable, as the wings on either side of the stage and the flies at the top are also replaced with painted images of pillars and an ornate ceiling. However, these remain during the scene at the lake and thus become extremely incongruous. The lighting leaves much to be desired, since is rudimentary and unable to convey much atmosphere; the appearance of Odette at the window lacks the requisite magic. The costumes, though, are quite pretty, authentic and entirely appropriate.

In sum, though one may want to commend Navrasa Duende for their initiative in organising this India tour of “Swan Lake”, one cannot help wishing for more…especially when one considers the astronomical ticket-prices! With more accomplished principal dancers, a full-sized corps, a live orchestra, better sets and lighting, this would have been something special. Perhaps next time?

The Importance of Being Articulate

Commissioned by and originally published on Mumbai Theatre Guide here:
http://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/the-importance-of-being-earnest-english-play-review.asp

Oscar Wilde: The Importance of Being Earnest

Director: Jeff Goldberg

Royal Opera House, 4 March 2018.

Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” is probably the playwright’s most famous play; and the quintessential Victorian “comedy of manners”. Apart from taking a satirical look at the superficiality and pretensions of British society at the turn of the century, it is also a supremely elegant piece of writing in Wilde’s epigrammatic fashion, peppered with delicious witticisms.

A successful staging of this warhorse demands, above all, an awareness of the correct style required. Jeff Goldberg’s production seems to be confused about what that is. The director is sometimes able to invest the comedic happenings onstage with a civilised grace; but the proceedings soon degenerate into loud, broad farce. Movement and blocking are often clumsy; and one wonders at the bizarre choice of keeping the butler onstage almost constantly, as it is unnecessary and uncalled-for in the script.

Moreover, this is a play that celebrates the English language and requires the words to be spoken precisely and eloquently, while maintaining a fleet, smooth tempo-rhythm. But, in this production, the actors tend to gabble through their lines with poor articulation and projection, with the result that syllables are swallowed and words become unintelligible. Many of the more famous lines are thrown away or do not have the requisite punch. And there are MANY mispronunciations of simple words, names of places and even those of the play’s own characters!

There are some edits made to the script; and while these may be noticeable to someone who knows the play, in general the cuts do not bleed. However, several memorable lines are missing; and this robs the script of colour. The three acts have been compressed into two (which is often done) but the interval comes at an odd point: instead of happening after Act 1 which is set in a London flat, it occurs unnaturally in the middle of Act 2 which is played, along with Act 3, in a country-house. The two butlers, each belonging to one of these establishments, have been cleverly combined into a single character, which works…somewhat.

Perhaps the truest acting in this production comes from Takshay Tarneja as John Worthing, the play’s protagonist. Although he is somewhat pallid, he does no wrong and somehow manages to convey the character’s essence quite consistently. A greater contrast could not be imagined than with Shreyas Porus Pardiwalla’s Algernon, who is spirited and flamboyant but a little too campy and overtly farcical, playing to the galleries. As for their sweethearts: Taniya Kalra’s Gwendolen looks the part but is under-characterised, while Pashmina Roshan is charming and vivacious as Cecily but often so indistinct in her speech that she cannot be understood.

Neeti Singhi in the role of Lady Bracknell (made immortal by Dame Edith Evans) is young for the part but tries to carry it off with an imperious manner, although her intentions are compromised by unfocussed execution. Helen Absalom as Miss Prism looks the right age and initially promises a vividly-projected characterisation; but this quickly becomes grossly and irritatingly overdone. Sankalp Joshi as Dr. Chasuble is too youthful to be her romantic interest; and Ankit Narang as the butler speaks and walks in a strange, contrived way.

The production’s design is minimalistic and quite effective, but with a couple of glaring flaws: a painted, oversized clock displaying a constant time; and a roaring fireplace depicted by a large, static photograph. The women’s costumes are pretty and appropriate but those of the men leave a lot to be desired, with wrong jackets and a towelled bathrobe (worn by Algernon) in which no self-respecting Victorian gentleman would have ever received guests.

On the whole, the production leaves one with strong, mixed feelings. On the one hand, it is heartening to see a group of young actors trying their best to pay homage to the classics. On the other, one realises that if THIS is currently their best, they have a long, long way to go. And what is needed is an awareness of higher standards, with better and more intensive training to achieve them.

Lovely recital but a mish-mashed program.

Commissioned by and originally posted on Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2018/02/a-marvellous-song-recital-by-baritone-benjamin-appl/

Song Recital – Benjamin Appl (baritone), Simon Lepper (piano), Experimental Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 18.2.2018. (JSM).

Schumann – Widmung

Britten – The Foggy, Foggy Dew

Poulenc – L’offrande

Hahn – À Chloris

Grieg – Lauf der Welt

R. Strauss – Geduld

Mendelssohn – Auf Flügeln des Gesanges

Schubert – Seligkeit

                  Ständchen

Finzi – It was a lover and his lass

Britten – The Salley Gardens

Poulenc – La maîtresse volage

Wolf – Hoffärtig seid ihr schönes Kind

Grieg – Zur Rosenzeit

R. Strauss – Morgen

Wolf – Wir haben beide Zeit geschweigen

             Begegnung

Schumann – Du bist wie eine Blume

Brahms – Sonntag

R. Strauss – Du meines Herzens Krönelein

Vaughan Williams – Silent Noon

Schubert – Die Taubenpost

Brahms – Wiegenlied

Schubert – Erlkönig

Wolf – An die Geliebte

Schubert – Der Tod und das Mädchen

Loewe – Süßes Begräbnis

R. Strauss – Allerseelen

Grieg – Ein Traum

Schubert – Wandrers Nachtlied II (encore)

           

This Sunday afternoon recital in Mumbai by the young German baritone Benjamin Appl was a potpourri of songs in three languages and in widely-differing styles by various composers. These were loosely strung together as individual pieces rather than in groups, with the unifying concept of depicting a tragic love-story, or so we were told, but the idea was stretched too thin to be convincing. However, the sequence of songs, particularly in the programme’s second half, did not present too many musical jolts since most consecutive selections seemed matched in key, if not in kind. They were interspersed by explanations given by the singer, though mercifully these interruptions were few and not cloying.

The recital began with Schumann’s Widmung and this immediately presented the singer’s strengths and weaknesses. There was an innate musicality in everything he did, aided by prodigious breath-control and a wonderful sense of legato, also heard to great effect later in Mendelssohn’s Auf Flügeln des Gesanges. He did seem to have some difficulty in songs with a very low tessitura and, more often than not, his softer tones seemed to have insufficient breath-support thus lacking a certain roundness, for instance in Brahms’ Wiegenlied. However, dynamic markings of mezzoforte and above found him singing out with clarion voice and flawless attack.

Herr Appl excelled in expression. There was no doubt that he felt and understood the songs deeply; and spared no effort in conveying this to the audience. One might say he did, on occasion, over-interpret the songs; but never self-consciously. Better a little too much than too little. A prime example of this was Schubert’s Ständchen, which began with the singer taking expressive liberties with line and rhythm but ended with an unforgettable beglücke mich.

The concert’s highlights included Geduld and Morgen by Richard Strauss, the former sung with vivid word-painting, the latter floated magically with iridescent accompaniment by Simon Lepper. Erlkönig was given a powerhouse performance, the four voices clearly demarcated, with perhaps the most thrilling rendition of the words “so brauch’ ich Gewalt” that this critic has ever heard. However, Mr. Lepper was too loud in the early part of this song, nearly drowning-out the singer (the piano was kept wide-open throughout the recital) though elsewhere he was unfailingly sensitive and ideally supportive.

On the whole then, a marvellous recital and a Sunday afternoon well-spent. However, one wishes the organisers (the National Centre for the Performing Arts in Mumbai) had presented a more consistent and better arranged programme, rather than this mish-mash. Especially since the audience would applaud after each song, until the singer politely requested them not to!

A Flawed Yet Promising Recital by Baritone Sergio Vitale

The much-awaited opera duo recital planned by the NCPA, featuring the soprano Rosa Feola and baritone Sergio Vitale, left many people disappointed because the soprano had taken ill.
Which was a pity because she seemed to be the better of the two, as one could surmise from clips on Youtube!
Anyway the guy managed to hold the evening together...though one wished the accompanist were better.


An edited version of the following review is printed on Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/08/a-flawed-yet-promising-recital-by-baritone-sergio-vitale/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).


Opera Recital – Sergio Vitale (baritone), Fabio Centanni (piano), Tata Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 8.8.2017. (JSM).
Mozart – Le Nozze di Figaro: Hai già vinta la causa
Bellini – I Puritani: Ah! per sempre io ti perdei
Rossini – Il barbiere di Siviglia: Largo al factotum
Liszt – Mephisto Waltz no:1
Donizetti – Don Pasquale: Bella siccome un angelo
Verdi – Falstaff: Ehi! Paggio!...L’onore! Ladri; Ehi! Taverniere! Mondo ladro
Tosti – ’A vuchhella

On account of a sudden deterioration in the health of soprano Rosa Feola, this concert, which was supposed to be an opera duo, became a solo recital by baritone Sergio Vitale accompanied by pianist Fabio Centanni.

Mr. Vitale’s programme ran the gamut of the baritone repertoire, from Figaro to Falstaff. “Work-in-progress” he announced modestly before one of the pieces; and this term could well be used to describe his singing as a whole.

The opening Mozart aria immediately conveyed his strengths and limitations: a full, rounded tone in the middle voice but strained at both extremes; genuine musicality compromised by imperfect execution of bel canto ornamentation and passage-work; an ability to communicate character and emotion when unencumbered by too much musical effort.

The aria from I Puritani fared better, as the baritone attempted sustaining a clean Bellinian line. However, his technical shortcomings were more exposed here, as later in the Donizetti, including a tendency to lunge at high notes from below (especially in upward-moving passages) and intonation that was somewhat suspect, often being just under true pitch.

Mr. Vitale lightened his tone (as he should) for Rossini’s Figaro, whose Largo al factotum was given with impish, infectious joie de vivre and a fine command of patter-singing. But the baritone cracked on the top G; and this highlighted his overall difficulty with high tessitura.

Fortunately, he came into his own as Verdi’s Falstaff, whose arias were a last-minute addition to the programme. From his first cry of Ehi! Paggio! it became evident that the singer was in his element and this role was a perfect fit, vocally and temperamentally. Falstaff’s Act 1 monologue was delivered with immense chutzpah and vivid word-painting; his Act 3 musing on the vagaries of the world was appropriately introspective.

The baritone ended the recital with the popular Neapolitan song ’A vuchhella. Here his innate musicality and good intentions, undermined by flawed vocalism, were all too apparent.

Fabio Centanni’s accompaniment was too loud, often drowning out the singer. It made one wonder why the piano was kept wide open and not on short-stick. His single solo, Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz no: 1, was clangy and fatiguing.

The concert was an interesting introduction to a young singer. If his Falstaff is anything to go by, and with some work on vocal technique, he has the potential of a richly promising career.

Return of the Royal

Bombay's old opera house has now been restored to its past glory.
It has played host to plays (including those staged by Prithviraj Kapoor's Prithvi Theatre) and later became a cinema house...famous for the long runs enjoyed by many of the movies screened there.
My mother's family lived in the building right behind the theatre; and she had told me how the Kapoors used to borrow flower-pots from them for the plays. Since she was pretty and an accomplished Indian classical dancer, they even offered her a role in their movie "Barsaat"! My grandfather said NO...and the role was eventually played by Nimmi.
As a child, when I visited my grandparents' home for dinner, I remember being able to hear bits of the late night movie-show; and saw a fair number of films in the Opera House. Although it was not air-conditioned, the theatre was still a great place for movies.


An edited version of the following article was published by Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/07/the-royal-opera-house-in-mumbai-is-restored-to-its-former-glory/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).

Inaugurated in 1911 by King George V, the Royal Opera House in Bombay (now called Mumbai) was the only one of its kind in this part of the world.

During the early part of the last century, it played host to performances of opera; and thereafter to plays and concerts of both Indian and Western music. It was modified in 1935 to allow cinema; and, in this avatar, eventually became one of the most famous movie palaces in Bombay screening Bollywood hits, many of which ran for over a year.

After its closure in 1993, the building was in a state of dilapidation. Since it was deemed a “heritage” structure, the government initiated a project of restoration in 2008, in collaboration with an Indian royal family who are the current owners of the opera house.

The restoration was carried-out by an Indian conservation-architect, with painstaking attention to Baroque detail, preserving the ornate carvings, paintings and embellishments in the auditorium and its foyer, returning the Italian marble and crystal chandeliers to their former glory.

The auditorium of the opera-house, with its colour-scheme of red, cream and gold, bears a faint resemblance (perhaps not surprisingly) to that of its namesake in London. In fact, it could well be seen as a miniature of the latter, although the pit here is covered and under the stage, not open and in front of the proscenium. The theatre has two balconies and 574 seats; the boxes on the side are now merely decorative, though there still are four “Royal boxes” at the rear of the stalls.

The covered pit is small indeed, perhaps too small, capable of accommodating only twenty musicians, with a wooden shell behind. Extending it to the front could only be achieved after extensive restructuring, which may not be in keeping with the priorities of restoration. However, this obviously restricts the kind of repertoire that could be staged here successfully, which would probably be limited to works with light scoring (or can be managed with pared-down orchestration) such as Baroque opera, some Mozart and lightweight bel canto…or perhaps operetta.

Another drawback is the newly-installed air-conditioning, which blows air into the auditorium with an audible “whoosh” rather than letting it drop down noiselessly. In practice, however, one gets used to this sound which makes its presence felt only during softer music.

The auditorium’s most significant strength is its acoustic: lush, warm and very kind to voices. These are given somewhat more prominence over the orchestra, which is not surprising, considering the limited number of players in the pit. One would imagine it is an easy space for singers, who would conceivably require less effort to project fuller tone.

The stage itself is quite adequate, having decent depth and width; and with a modern lighting system. In fact, ever since its re-opening in October 2016, the opera-house has been used to stage several plays; and is slowly becoming recognised as a viable venue by theatre groups in the city.

Now, for the first time in nearly a century, the house is back to its original purpose with the staging of a full-length opera, Il Matrimonio Segreto by Cimarosa. Since the house doesn’t have its own opera company, this was presented by the Giving Voice Society, an organisation headed by the Indian-born soprano, Patricia Rozario. She and her husband, pianist Mark Troop, visit India thrice a year to conduct intensive workshops for local singers; and thus provide a much-needed service, considering the paucity of voice-teachers in this country.

The opera was given a more than competent performance by Ms Rozario’s students and other singers of Indian origin. The staging was minimalistic, updating the action to what looked like a fin de siècle scenario.

One is happy to know that Giving Voice is not the only group staging opera with home-grown performers. The Neemrana Foundation has been doing so for some time now, presenting operas with Indian themes or about the Indian sub-continent (including a superb Les Pêcheurs des Perles). Late last year, they staged a delectable potpourri of excerpts from such works right here, in the Royal Opera House, Mumbai. It is good to see these organisations take the time, money and effort to nurture and develop local talent, unlike others with far greater resources who prefer instead to import from abroad.

The ROHM has to be a multi-purpose theatre by way of necessity, since opera alone would not be sufficient for it to sustain itself, at the moment. Until that day arrives, it is a much-needed addition to this city’s cultural life, which has been trying to overcome a near-monopolistic situation.

So its welcome back, indeed.

Opera Gala and Bombay's Boheme.

In February 2017, the NCPA presented a season of operatic performances, including two concerts and a production called "La Boheme Revisited". I attended the first Gala...which was mediocre; and the opening night of the opera proper...which was "ingenious" in the wrong way!
Both reviews were commissioned by Seen and Heard International and were combined into one. They can be found here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/02/new-reviews-of-opera-in-mumbai-a-gala-and-la-boheme-revisited/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).
Readers are welcome to draw their own conclusions from the reviews...and leave comments!

Who’s Scared of Opera?

Published in "Mumbai Mirror" 6 February 2017

The high notes, the foreign languages and clans of obsessed aficionados have endowed opera with a mystique, tinged with fear, in the minds of many. Which is unwarranted because opera is, quite simply, music-drama; the precursor of the Broadway musical. And today, with so much opera available on video, subtitled in English, there is even less reason to be intimidated by it.

What makes opera different? The style of singing. In musicals, singers are (usually) supported by electronic amplification to fill the theatre; in opera, the singer relies on his/her own body, fueled by immense reserves of breath, to provide the necessary power and resonance to ride over a 100-piece orchestra and fill a 2000-seat opera-house! An operatic voice may thus, at first, sound artificial but can be very thrilling, especially on those high notes and in music which demands great vocal agility in executing tricky runs and leaps, much like the taan-s of an Indian classical vocalist.

Indeed, older operas made great demands on a singer’s vocal technique; and were somewhat stylised and predictable in their musical language. Plots were initially drawn from Classical literature and mythology, eventually giving way to more contemporary sources and melodic invention. Novels and plays by authors as diverse as Beaumarchais, Sir Walter Scott, Schiller, Dumas and Shakespeare were shaped into singing-texts; the characters became flesh-and-blood, the music more “natural” and free-flowing.

Mozart was perhaps the first composer to attempt the above; but the 19^th Century saw the resurgence of florid style, which came to be called bel canto (literally “beautiful singing”) and in which the performer reigned supreme. These operas served as showcases for the human voice; and singers often took liberties with the music to interpolate ever more dazzling displays of vocal virtuosity. Foremost among the composers in this genre were Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini.

Then came the Italian maestro Giuseppe Verdi, whose operas with their emphasis on melody and humanity changed the course of opera forever. He is probably the most influential operatic composer, along with his German contemporary, Richard Wagner, whose later works are said to be the foundation of modern music; and whose mantle was carried forward into the 20^th century by his compatriot, Richard Strauss.

Italian opera soon embraced an entirely Romantic idiom. Here passions were palpable, inflected with poetry. The orchestral palette became full-blooded and highly expressive of emotions; the vocal style commensurately full-throttle, “beautiful singing” for its own sake being replaced by an all-encompassing, musico-dramatic rendition of the words and notes. The plots were earthy, the people generally drawn from everyday life; and this was called Verismo (or realism). Foremost among its practitioners was Giacomo Puccini, who became (like Verdi before him) the most representative Italian operatic composer of his time.

And in all this, the French weren’t far behind. They had a rich tradition of opera through the centuries, culminating in the works of Jules Massenet and Georges Bizet. His “Carmen” is perhaps the most popular opera of all, even though it was a flop when it premièred.

Any exploration of opera should probably begin with “Carmen”. This is because it is actually (in today’s parlance) musical-theatre, the music being interspersed with spoken dialogue. The opera has been adapted countless times into dance, film and drama; and various milieus, including a Mumbai nightclub. Its title-character is well-known: a free-spirited gypsy who believes “Love is a rebellious bird”. The setting is Spain (with a bullfight happening offstage during the final scene) and the music is visceral yet melodious. The ideal way to get to know the opera is through the stunning film by Francesco Rosi, shot on location but faithful to the music, with an amazingly vivid performance by the soprano Julia Migenes-Johnson who literally lives the title-role (and sings quite well too!) partnered by a young Plácido Domingo.

Next would be “La Bohème” by Puccini. Set in fin-de-siècle Paris, in a Bohemian society of struggling writers, artists and musicians, this love-story is poignant and true; and the music is sheer, unabashed lyricism. The performance of choice would be from the Metropolitan Opera, in the production by Franco Zeffirelli, recorded in 1982. Teresa Stratas and José Carreras are perfectly cast as the lovers; and the staging is immensely atmospheric, virtually recreating the Latin Quarter of Paris. An excellent alternative would be the production from the Sydney Opera House, directed by Baz Luhrmann, which updates the action to post-war Paris and is extremely moving.

Continuing in the Parisian locale, we come to Verdi’s “La Traviata” based on Alexandre Dumas Jr’s novel “La Dame aux Camélias”. This was also an initial flop, because it was considered too unconventional in its contemporary (for its time) setting and its heroine Violetta, the “fallen woman” of the title, who is a high-class courtesan. The opera is reborn in the truly brilliant modern staging by Willy Decker at the Salzburg Festival, stripping the drama down to its raw essentials, most chillingly. Anna Netrebko is utterly riveting and vital as Violetta, both physically and vocally; so is Rolando Villazón as her lover.

Then there is Rossini’s “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” (The Barber of Seville) a comic opera in the bel canto tradition. Apart from having some of the most charming, lilting music ever written (with plenty of opportunities for gifted singers to strut their vocal stuff) it can also be extremely funny…if done right. Which is certainly the case in the production by Bartlett Sher at the Metropolitan Opera, with incredible singing by Joyce DiDonato and Juan Diego Flórez; and Peter Mattei’s engaging performance in the title-role of Figaro. This is (as yet) only available for streaming from metopera.org; but an excellent alternative would be the lovely film by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle, starring Hermann Prey as Figaro.

Having started with the operas listed above, there is always the possibility of exploring more by the same or other composers. Whichever you choose, if you love music and the theatre, you are in for a treat…and one that is pleasantly addictive.

So take the plunge…and enjoy!