Thursday, July 5, 2012

Carmen at the Komische Oper Berlin is a sexy, sensual affair

For the last night of my stay in Berlin, I went to see Carmen at the Komische Oper Berlin. This was the first time I bought a cheap ticket (€12) to the opera in Europe, and the first time I had to deal with some of the quirks—as it turned out, my seat was so far out in the wings that the view was nonexistent when I was sitting, and so I spent just about the entire three hours standing.

My view of the stage—more of a sliver than a proper view. As it turned out, a substantial part of the action occurred at stage right, so I had to lean precariously over just to get a glimpse.

But what action there was! As purist as I am, I occasionally find these "updated" productions just as entertaining and enjoyable. As befits the Komishe Oper, the production was sung in German, except for two of Carmen's arias: the Habanera ("L'amour est un oiseaux rebelle") and the first number of the second act ("Les tringes des sistres tintaient"), which were sung in French (although the interjections by the choir were in German), and some of the video segments with José, which were in English—more on those later. In this production, Carmen was every bit the femme fatale, all the way down to her costumes, which always emphasized her wonderful figure. Heaven forbid if one day I have to see a Wagnerian soprano—the proverbial "fat lady"—sing this role! In addition, the character playing Manuela (who supplants Lillas Pastia as the innkeeper in this production) also dances extremely lively flamencos in between the acts, to a live guitar accompaniment on-stage, which adds to the highly sensual element. 

Tonight's cast list

The entire opera was cast as sort of a flashback from the perspective of José, who is being interrogated after he has killed Carmen. The interrogation is presented in video segments in between Acts I and II, and Acts III and IV (the intermission was between Acts II and III), and has the tenor playing José speaking in his mother tongue. Regarding the choice of language, an interesting decision was to keep Carmen's aforementioned arias in the original French—the only reason I can think of is that these arias deal with Carmen's highly capricious love ("Si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime"), and of course, French is the language of love!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Helmuth Rilling conducts Bach's St. Matthew Passion

In brief: As a scholar, as a technician, as a chef de l'orchestre, Helmuth Rilling is outstanding. As a musician, he fails miserably.

The first few bars of the first chorus summed the entire three hours up. Although the Taipei Philharmonic is a modern ensemble, Rilling paid immaculate attention to technical details for baroque performance: no vibrato, non-legato, even the choirs' German pronunciation was excellent – better, even, than the alto soloist's. But at what a musical cost! Anyone who knows about period performance will appreciate the fact that baroque musicians didn't have our modern concept of legato, but that does not mean the music should sit flat without any shaping of lines; besides, isn't Bach's mastery of counterpoint supposed to be found in his multi-linear structures? In the end, I felt I could truly appreciate just how impressive Bach's music is, simply because it was still very moving even under such an unmusical baton.

In addition, with all the attention paid to accuracy, Rilling nevertheless fails to notice flaws in the very basics of music. Throughout the entire performance, the orchestra's tuning was off, sometimes resulting in truly cringeworthy clashes between the cello and organ. As a general rule, sharps were all too high, and flats were all too low. Also obvious was the fact that the orchestra's strings had a hurried crash course in baroque playing. It is easy to tell the strings to play senza vibrato, but it's almost impossible to teach them to use only the bow for producing all the different shades and tone colors in one or two weeks, much less so if the conductor in question is not a string player. In the end, the strings sounded flat, dull, and thin throughout, with only superficial details adhering to baroque performance. Add bad intonation to the non-vibrato mix, and we have a disaster waiting to happen.

But, in any case, the audience's reception was fantastic. This was supposed the first Taiwanese performance of the St. Matthew Passion, and judging from the thunderous applause and countless curtain calls, future performances of such masterpieces could just as easy find such an enthusiastic audience. Let's just hope that our ears can be blessed with a performance worthy enough to be called "music".

Sunday, March 4, 2012

YogeeTi: Breathtaking, exhilarating, uneven

As part of the 2012 Taiwan International Festival of Arts, YogeeTi has certainly benefited from funding and marketing most artists could only dream of. Much like the earlier production of The Tempest (the subject of a future entry), I was drawn to the show after seeing quite a number of reviews lauding this piece. While it was certainly great fun to watch, as I left the theatre I couldn't help but feel somewhat ambivalent toward what I had just experienced.

Much of the hype of this piece has been centered on the fashion design element, and clearly it shows: aside from the exquisite stage design and impressive use of props, the evocative lighting and excellent music all serve to create a terrific ambiance. Yet the actual dancing, however consistently brilliant it was, at times nevertheless seemed to fall flat. After a truly dazzling section where the “weaving” theme is brought into full relief through strings drawn in from the wings, accompanied by the aptly minimalistic score and the interwoven choreography, there follows a longish “showcase” with every dancer doing solos or duos, seemingly just for the sake of it. The pre-show lecture mentioned that Johan Ku caught the attention of Mourad Merzouki with a cocoon-themed exhibition, but the interaction with with cocoon costumes today, looking as if covered with moss or algae, would not have seen out of place if it were used as a filler for a stage production of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters. Also, I failed to detect a coherent flow throughout the piece; sometimes it seemed as if the performance could just about close at the end of any section, without sacrificing anything at all.

Perhaps what I couldn't reconcile the most, though, was the sense of emptiness inside even before the first sound of applause had struck. Impressive, yes; breathtaking, yes; but a sense of connection? After sitting in my seat for more than an hour, I didn't feel I could take away anything from the experience. I was reminded of what Pak Sal said of Jérôme Bel in his interview before returning to Indonesia: his works inevitably invoke controversy, and probably justifiably so; yet this is not done for just shock value, just "for the sake of it", but because he has a strong central concept or message which cannot be conveyed anyway else. Just as I was leaving the theatre, I happened to meet a friend sitting in the row behind me; she said that she fell asleep during the middle, and frankly I don't blame her (especially since this was, after all, a matinee performance).

But in any case, the audience clearly loved today's performance; the entire hall was roaring and cheering like mad throughout the countless curtain calls, and the dancers clearly enjoyed the reception as well. And in the end, that's what matters in performance art, isn't it: never mind there is a profound message to take away, we're here to enjoy ourselves, to have a good time!

Friday, December 16, 2011

今日觀舞心得-北藝大舞蹈系年度展演《男風吹》

看完男風吹的心得:

1. 如果聽到某種音樂就會直覺聯想到某類型的肢體動作,這是特定音樂語彙本身就會指向特定肢體語彙,還是是聆聽/觀賞者的後天調教使然?以下半場的兩支舞為例,我聽到十面埋伏的第一個和絃,腦海裡馬上就會浮現武打招式;聽到Ravel的音樂(即使像左手鋼琴協奏曲這麼陰沉的曲子),第一個印象就是芭蕾舞的線條。但是,像上半場聽到柴可夫斯基的小提琴協奏曲,我並不會特別想到芭蕾,而且說真的,聽到叮叮咚咚的Gamelan,我倒也不會只跟爪哇舞蹈的繁複手部動作聯想起來,甚至如果拿它來配上現代舞倒也不會覺得奇怪。但是,我會有上述最後一點的感受,究竟是因為Gamelan本身的語彙沒有指向特定的肢體語彙?還是只是因為我已經經過John Cage等人的薰陶了?

2. 布拉的舞怎麼都這麼累啊!光在台下看都覺得好累!

3. 舞者的生理時鐘,通常會是有利於午場演出,還是晚場演出?據我觀察,好像大部份音樂家的生理時鐘都調得比較晚,如果是下午表演恐怕會品質不良。

4. 那個......女生穿跳芭蕾穿緊身衣的時候,會覺得駱駝腳趾不雅嗎?

Monday, December 12, 2011

糖果是公的還是母的?我好像回答太認真了…

某:糖果是公的還是母的?
我:這要看你的糖果是哪個語言的。
某:啊?
我:比方說,法文裡的bonbon是陽性的,德文Bonbon可以是陽性或中性的,義大利文的caramella是陰性的…
某:啊?
我:喔,就是很多歐洲語言的名詞會分成陰性或陽性的,所以在使用的時候必須配合名詞的性別來使用正確的冠詞或是形容詞變化。比方說,法文的糖果是陽性的,所以如果說「我吃一顆糖果」就必須要用陽性的冠詞,je mange un bonbon。可是法文的蘋果是陰性的,所以「我吃一顆蘋果」就要用陰性的冠詞,je mange une pomme。而且,這種性別也不是放諸四海皆準的,比方說,中文裡會覺得太陽是陽性的,月亮是陰性的,法文也是這樣,可是德文就是相反過來的,太陽是「母」的,月亮是「公」的。或是比方說像貓,法文的chat是陽性的,德文是陰性的,西班牙文就要看是公貓gato或是母貓gata。而且這種分類方法也不只有歐洲語言才有,比方說同屬閃米語系的阿拉伯文和希伯來文也會把名詞分成陰性和陽性的,印度南方達羅毗荼語系大部份的語言也會這樣分,東非的班圖語系語言還會分出更多的「性別」,像史瓦希利語裡面的名詞就分成十多種類別,每種都要加上不同的字首…………

某:(大哭)糖果是母的因為糖果會生螞蟻啦!!!!!!(哭著跑開)

我:囧

Saturday, November 26, 2011

近日二場觀舞心得:「我學錯東西了」

太久沒寫東西了!雖然我在年初第三度重新開始寫部落格是想要記錄中東革命的發展,但一路看下來我發現自己沒辦法發出什麼具體的意見(除了有一次BBC World Have Your Say節目唸到我的留言以外),漸漸就沒有動力再寫東西了。

最近不想一直在家裡發呆,又想說之前在舞蹈系工作卻對舞蹈不夠關心,所以一時興趣就去看了兩場表演:上星期五去景美人權文化園區看安娜琪舞蹈劇場的《第七感官》,今天去台北另一端(應該說是捷運淡水線的另一端)的竹圍工作室看舞蹈生態系的《結晶體》。看下來的結論:我學錯東西了——或說,我不知道我以前在封閉什麼。

景美人權文化園區在秀朗橋下,這麼偏僻的地方我以前竟然常來……一方面,拉絃樂器的人會知道高憶玫老師的工作室就在附近;另一方面,在國防部底下單位當過兵的人在分發到部隊前應該也在隔壁(不對,還不能說隔壁,因為門口的地方連牆都沒有)的保養場上過課。《第七感官》是一個「觀賞環境建置計畫」,不光是舞蹈而已,表演環境也會跟表演者互動,甚至還把觀眾帶進表演裡一起互動:


Seventh Sense - Excerpt 1 from Jeff Hsieh on Vimeo.


Seventh Sense - Excerpt 3 from Jeff Hsieh on Vimeo.


Seventh Sense - Excerpt 4 from Jeff Hsieh on Vimeo.

我索票的時候不知道為什麼刻意選了舞台上面的「搖滾區」,之後一直覺得怕怕的,還問杰樺老大坐搖滾區會不會很可怕。但是在表演的時候就覺得之前根本是在白擔心。表演正式開始之前,兩位舞者就已經在台上跟科技投影互動,搖滾區的觀眾也要一個個進去跟投影和舞者一起動;在剛剛踏進去的那一瞬間,覺得突然被很多人看好像怪怪的,但沒多久就融入情境,可以放得開在舞台上玩。唯一比較可惜的是,表演真正開始之後,舞者跟觀眾的互動反而還沒有那麼多。不過,這場表演確實是一種不一樣的體驗,甚至是以前我自己從來沒想過的。音樂表演是可以把環境當成演出的一部份,運用燈光和科技讓觀眾不只是在聽表演、看表演,而是直接「進入」表演;我覺得Terry Riley的《太陽光環》(Sun Rings)就是很成功的作品,今年前半年Kronos Quartet來台灣的時候就是表演這首曲子:


Kronos Quartet: Sun Rings from kq kq on Vimeo.

不過,觀眾就算能夠「進入」這種表演裡,基於音樂演奏本身的限制,無法讓觀眾「融入」表演中,成為演出的一部份;John Cage的4'33"雖然大部份是由觀眾的聲音構成的,但觀眾再怎麼樣都還是與台上的「表演者」隔開,兩方之間無法互動。《第七感官》裡觀眾參與表演的比例雖然不多,但已經讓我開始質疑以前為何那麼堅持表演的「正式」形式,為何非要是表演者/被看者與觀眾/看人者的二元對立。我後來在想,這種隔閡與距離是不是我後來那麼不喜歡音樂表演的另一個原因(最大的原因仍是薩伊德在Musical Elaborations裡所說的"Performance as an extreme occasion"),因為即使我不能算真正的表演者,我在台上跟舞者互動都覺得有在貼近「人」,反而比起音樂表演更有身而為人的「人性」。我甚至覺得,當初我學錯東西了,不應該學音樂,應該學跳舞才對!

(星期二我回去舞蹈系的時候跟某葉姓助教提到這件事,據說他後來有跟平老師說?)

如果上週的表演讓我重新思考我為什麼不喜歡表演,今天的《結晶體》反而讓我想要再投入表演裡!最大的原因是表演的配樂有現場大提琴演奏。我必須說,我看不太懂舞蹈生態系在這個作品裡想要透過肢體語言表達什麼,看了節目單上的文字仍然不懂(說真的,上回他們在跨藝的表演我也不知道他們在做什麼),但看到現場大提琴、預錄的音樂、現場音效sampling和舞者肢體動作之間的互動實在是太奇妙。表演後跟大提琴手聊了一下,她說她的音樂有一部份是表演時看舞者即興的,舞者的動作與音樂之間有某種不確性;這似乎與《第七感官》裡舞者與觀眾互動的不確定性有異曲同工之妙。另外,今天的表演似乎也引證我之前的想法:有些光聽音樂會覺得莫名其妙的現代音樂,在肢體動作的詮釋之下反而顯得有條理,或至少讓人可以接受。第一次有這種想法,是看到下面這個影片的時候;音樂是希臘作曲家Iannis Xenakis的Nomos Alpha:


我現在只希望以後也能夠參與這樣的表演,而且愈快有機會出現愈好,因為我又找到了對表演的熱情了!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Specialized musical education established by education authorities in Taiwan should be eradicated

In fact, this kind of primary and secondary education should have never been established in the first place.

Here's a series of hypothetical situations:
1. Suppose that we have a child whose innate talent (as opposed to educated or conditioned expertise) for music is equal to Srinivasa Ramanujan's mathematical genius. If s/he were born in a third-world country, to a family just as poor as Ramanujan's, what are the chances of this child's talent being discovered?

2. If the chances outlined in the previous situation are very low, does this merit the allocation of large amounts of national resources in the creation of a specialized parallel education system, which accepts thousands upon thousands of children who may not have that level of musical talent but are able to learn music due to their families' financial status, and who would be able to continue their musical studies even without a dedicated educational system and officially designated resources, just so that one Ramajuan-esque genius does not slip away unnoticed?

3. Following upon the above, if this parallel education system is nearly unreservedly abused by families who already have a better financial bearing to begin with, would a Ramanujan-esque genius with no money to buy an instrument and pay for music lessons (not to mention paying through the nose for lessons prior to exams with teachers who might be officiating those very exams, offering their bodies – or at least not objecting – to the carnal gratification of their teachers, and other such illicit means of bribery)  be able to enter this system to study music?

In short, if Mozart were born into a Taiwanese family as poor as Ramanujan's, would he be able to enter the parallel musical education system, and use that to his advantage to become an internationally-renowned musician?