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The Yellow Sofa by Glyndebourne’s current composer in residence, Julian Philips, is FWW’s latest directorial venture.

Julian Philips

The opera- in which a tainted yellow sofa is the powerful centre point- is based on a short novel by the Eca de Queiros-Portugal’s most distinguished novelist- and is all about the corrosive, destructive nature of sexual jealousy. This is not high tragedy though, there’s plenty of comedy and a happy ending so you won’t leave in too sombre a mood. Set in the 19^th Century, it follows the story of Godofredo, a well-to-do, whose life gets tipped on its head when he arrives home from work one day to find his wife Ludovina doing the dirty with his friend Machado…on the yellow sofa. Husband and wife part and Godofredo ruminates, plans his revenge with some charismatic friends, and ruminates some more. Only time can tell the outcome.

It’s a neat work with elegant touches. Having the yellow sofa personified by a buxom redhead (Martha Bredin) with a touch of the wanton harlot about her, worked wonderfully to betray Godofredo’s increasing torment and to evoke the powerful sexual charge of the yellow sofa- the furniture on which the act was performed has become the act itself. All ten of the young singers, who work as a tight knit ensemble, confidently breezed through Philips’ demanding score, and the Britten Sinfonia, under the precise baton of Leo McFall, were similarly adept. Particularly memorable were the guitar duet and the violinist who extracted herself from her fellow players and became part of the action on stage.

In fact, meta-theatrical devices ran rife in this opera- a guaranteed entertainment. When within The Yellow Sofa, another opera is about to start, McFall leaves his post and re-emerges as the conductor within the opera (are you still with me?) a flamboyant, hair tossing specimen, who then gets the orchestra to play the first few bars of L’elisir d’amore, Glydebourne’s headline act that evening. Masterful. Needless to say the audience (and I) didn’t get the joke.

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And so I leave Japan affected by the deep and refined elements of the culture, inspired by the fascinating and talented people I met, refreshed by the energy and enthusiasm that I encountered and full of new ideas for my own future work.

FWW

Previous Installment- Part 5: Modern Japanese Theatre- a Myriad of Cultures

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I returned to the National Noh Theatre to see a production of Othello by Theatre Project Si.  The performers were made up of Kyogen actors and opera singers and there was a hip drum and a trumpet.  It was interesting to see the clash of styles; the sound of the trumpet with the drum, the kimonos with modern dress, the naturalistic acting with the rituals of Noh.  There were even great contrasts within the modern influences such as Italian opera next to American jazz.  It seems that the Japanese are very good at taking ideas and influences from other cultures and assimilating them into their own.  One need only look at Kanji, baseball and Buddhism to see that much of Japanese culture has come from elsewhere.  I went to watch a rehearsal of Ninagawa’s next play, My Night at Andro’s with Saitama Gold Theatre.  His work is characterized by using many different influences and this play was no different where Portuguese, Chekhov, modern and classical music vied together with certain Japanese influences.  The problem that modern Japanese theatre seems to have is that it is in danger of either copying traditional Western theatre or simply recreating its own traditional forms.  Their response to this seems to be to throw a number of conflicting and varied elements together without the need for consistency.  This Othello had done exactly that but, for me, it was incomplete.  Many of the modern elements felt like pastiche and it seemed that the purity of the Noh stage was being defiled.  I believe that it is important, particularly when borrowing very directly from another culture or style, that you still aim to create your own new modern style from out of the influences used.  This is what Britten was very careful to do when writing Curlew River.

I believe Zeami has an answer for how to borrow from other cultures.  In Style and the Flower he refers to function (yo) and substance (tai).  If substance is a flower then function is the scent.  When learning from a performance, one should try to imitate the substance and not copy the function.  In other words, when borrowing from other cultures or styles, one should take the underlying essence and not simply the aesthetic or effect.

FWW

Final Installment- Part 6: The Last Stretch (Previous Installment- Part 4:The Art of Banraku and Kabuki)

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Banraku Puppet Theatre

Bunraku and Kabuki, by their very nature, are doing a better job of attracting audiences than Noh and so perhaps they have more chance of proving relevant to modern society.  I went to see Bunraku perform Hiragana Seisuiki at the National Theatre.  I was astounded by the intricate skill and the detail of the movements of the puppets – it is little wonder each puppet requires three people to manoeuvre.  It was Edward Gordon Craig who said that the perfect performer is the marionette and you could see by the efficiency and directness of movement from these puppets why he might have thought it.  I was also impressed by how the narrators built themselves up into something near a meditative trance by the end of each scene.  In the fifth scene, Kanzaki Ageya, I never thought the sight of a woman striking a basin with a ladle could be quite so dramatic!

At Kabukiza I saw four plays: Koi Minato Hakata No Hitofushi, Yudachi, Kanda Bayashi and Oshi No Fusuma Koi No Mutsugoto.  I have to admit that after Noh I found the set and costumes rather garish at first.  Much of the comedy too, of course, relies on a good grasp of the language.  However, after a while I began to be seduced by their showmanship, the shouts from the audience, the vivid colours and strange look in their eyes that by the time Ebizo and Kikonosuke had finished dancing as lovebirds I was completely transfixed.  I also had the opportunity to watch Kataoka Nizaemon rehearse Onna Goroshi Abura No Jigoku.  As a director, it was particularly interesting to see a rehearsal led by the main actor.  At first, I was shocked to hear that at Kabukiza they only run through a play twice before a performance, a stark contrast to the weeks of rehearsal which opera demands.  However, just as an opera singer comes to the first rehearsal knowing the music, a Kabuki actor comes to the rehearsal knowing the entire role.  It is then the job of the main actor to tweak certain stage positions and adjust certain musical speeds to fit with his performance.  This made me realize that actors in Kabuki (and Noh for the same reason) must have a broader understanding of the theatre than most straight theatre and opera performers because, whereas modern theatre performers hand much of the thinking about lights, music, action, set, etc. over to the director, the Kabuki actor does it all himself.

I met Bando Yajuro after a performance and talked in length about the history of Kabuki and the life of a Kabuki actor.  The fact that they start so young is evident in the depth of feeling and understanding that they have for their art.  The drawback of this is that there is a natural conservatism in how they perform.  Yajuro-san, however, is very interested in opera and combining it with Kabuki.  There seem to be a number of attempts at reinvigorating the traditional art forms and Yajuro-san is certainly not alone.

FWW

Next Installment is Part 5: Modern Japanese Theatre- A Myriad of Cultures (Previous Installment- part 3: Young People and Japanese Culture)

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For traditional art forms to remain alive, it is essential that there are young people who take an interest in culture and, more importantly, that there are some willing and able to express themselves.  When I gave a lecture at Showa University to students in Arts Administration, I found evidence of a healthy balance of interests between traditional Japanese theatre and modern forms, and I also met some young people who take Noh lessons (Bunraku has apparently become popular in recent years, and the famous Kabuki actors attract many young people, ladies in particular).  As for those willing and able to express themselves, it is very important to determine between those truly reflecting their thoughts and experiences and those simply copying others.  I witnessed a very good example of this one day when I went to the University of Fine Arts and Music in Ueno to see a workshop by German director Peter Konwitchny and a programme of contemporary dance that evening at Session House in Kagurazaka.  It was very interesting to hear Konwitchny’s thoughts on Aida and Der Freischutz and watch him divulge some of his extensive experience to the young singers.  It seemed however that the singers were being told how to express alien emotions in a way that was unfamiliar to them.  The contemporary dance, on the other hand, was called D-Union and contained four groups Japonica-ponica, Project Oyama, Korupto and 7 Years 2 months.  I felt they were expressing themselves in a way that connected the audience to the performance and the world in which we live with a very high level of technical skill.

FWW

Next Installment is Part 4: The Art of Banraku and Kabuki (Previous Installment- Part 2: The Noh Plays)

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I was fortunate enough to see a performance of Sumidagawa together with Curlew River at the Izumi Hall in Osaka.  It had always been my dream to see Sumidagawa, but I thought the chances of it being performed during my short visit to Japan were too small.  Kanze Tetsunojo was the shite and he performed the role of the Madwoman with extraordinary depth, grace and elegance.  I met him after the performance and found him to be a man of great humility and kindness.  The years of quiet dedication to his art seemed to radiate from him.  It was fascinating to see Curlew River alongside Sumidagawa and compare Noh and opera directly.  In modern theatre, it is all too easy to hide behind the lights and the music and rely on them to create atmosphere.  In Noh, it is entirely down to the performers to create the appropriate mood.

The most prestigious event I attended was the 70th birthday celebrations of Noh actor Sakai Otoshige at the Kanze Theatre.  He performed Ataka and Dojoji and the masters of each theatre in Tokyo performed a number of shimai.  I felt privileged to see so many great masters in action.  It was also wonderful in Ataka to see so many performers on the stage but Dojoji was, of course, a highlight of my whole trip.  The climax to the play, when the shite jumps up into the bell as it falls from the ceiling, is breathtaking.  However, it wasn’t just the act itself that made it so exciting.  Dojoji is a lesson in how to heighten the effect of an event in the theatre through the use of anticipation.  After the bell has been mounted, there is a natural excitement in the audience.  As the play begins, the actors counter this by slowing their movements and chanting.  This focuses the audience’s energy and conserves it for the climax.  The serpent dance, which leads up to the climax, is the most difficult dance in Noh.  The long repetition of technically difficult stamps and movements of the head in time with the drum takes this feeling of anticipation and builds it with monotonous control so that when the act finally occurs, the audience is bursting to see it.

I was also lucky enough to see Takigi Noh in Kyoto at the Heian Shrine.  The plays performed were Kagetsu, Hagoromo and Momijigari with the ritual Okina beginning the event and the Kyogen Tsuribari providing light relief.  Okina reminded me of the provenance of Noh from Bugaku and religious ritual.  By enacting a piece about or in reverence of the gods, you are making them manifest in some way – that is a very powerful dramatic tool.  One of the actors, by crouching and then standing while slowly raising his arms, was able to give the impression he was floating which was remarkable.  Kagetsu itself was not very interesting but it served the principle of jo, ha, kyu perfectly.  It allowed time for the sun to set and the mood to settle so that under a misty moon, a balmy evening and the glow of the flames, we watched as the maiden in Hagoromo danced along the beach and up into the moon and we sat aghast as the beguiling Lady and her attendants turned into raging demons and were killed by Taira no Koremochi.  The shocking and thrilling moment when the demon falls flat on her back was surpassed only by Dojoji.

FWW

Next Installment- Part 3: Young People and Japanese Culture (Previous Installment- Part 1: Before Embarking on the Journey)

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In my research for this production I read Zeami’s treatises, and the theories that he expounded struck me deeply; the principle of jo, ha, kyu that structures everything from the stamp of the foot to the arrangement of an evening of plays, the idea that what occurs on stage should act as a trigger for the audience’s imagination, his suggestions on how to pace and develop a career, his explanation on the mechanics and contradictions of acting.  These ideas, and many more, act as a useful handbook not just for the Noh actor, but for anyone working in the field of theatre.

So that is why I went to Japan, to learn more about Zeami and Noh and to use that knowledge in my own work with opera.  Little did I know that this was only the tip of the iceburg. I was soon to stumble upon many other elements of Japanese culture which opened up yet more interesting and complex questions…

FWW

Next Installment- Part 2: The Noh Plays

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This is not the first time the choir of London have been to the Middle Eastern region. A few years ago (2007) they took The Magic Flute out there as part of the Palestine Mozart Festival- the result of a partnership between various Palestinian and European Organisations, and in 2004 they performed as part of the Palestine Bach Festival. It seems there’s something about this part of the world- the extraordinarily powerful and humbling experience of connecting with audiences many of whom are hearing this kind of music for the first time, perhaps?- that keeps the choir coming back. It’s certainly not the money. None of the choir are paid a salary.

For this particular tour, Palestinian children will form part of the Opera’s chorus, and there will also be a performance of Brahms’s Requiem with musicians from al-kamandjati, a Palestinian choir based in Bethlehem, and the Barenboim-Said Foundation.

I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of the choir’s production of La Boheme in an open dress rehearsal which took place in Brixton and I was thoroughly impressed by the talent and energy on show. This was an updated version which dragged the original late 1800s setting of the opera into the depression-soaked flapper era of the 1920s. It worked a treat, with the post war economic climate lending an interesting dimension to the poverty of the ‘bohemians’. All the singers, bar none, were outstanding, navigating Puccini’s rich melodies wit assurance and humour. The camaraderie between the men, Rudolfo, Marcello, Schaunard, and Colline was entirely unaffected. They were clearly having a ball- on and off the stage. The two standouts (as it should be) were the two lovers Mimi, played by the young soprano Charmian Bedford, and Rudolfo, sung by the powerful tenor Andrew Staples. Both pulled off their demanding arias with fluency as well as charm, and shared the sort of chemistry that one can’t fake. I should imagine that in the more conservative and religious areas of Palestine, these sexual sparks might need to be tempered…  

I caught up with Charmian on her return from the tour, who told me that in Nablus, her and her leading man did indeed have to tone down all the kissing and keep the touching to a minimum. She had this to say about the tour:

It was amazing. We received standing ovations and at every performance people were in floods of tears. In some places people took photos all the way through. I even had my own little fan club! The whole thing was just… well… indescribable.

And that’s just what music should be.

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To read Tom Service’s article on The Choir of London’s production of La Boheme, click here.

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