“Classical Pilgrimage…a musical odyssey through Europe.”

GetAttachment-1.aspxMelbourne conductor Andrew Wailes has always been passionate about music. But he is particularly passionate when it comes to enabling choral and orchestral musicians from Australia to have overseas experience. He will no sooner have returned from a Christmas tour of China with the Australian Children’s Choir and the Royal Melbourne Philharmonic Orchestra when he heads to Europe for a tour called “A Classical Pilgrimage,” leading the Chamber Strings of Melbourne and members of the Melbourne University Choral Society on a ‘musical odyssey’ through France, Austria, Germany and Italy. They will perform a variety of concerts and liturgical masses over the course of two and a half weeks in January and February 2014 featuring music of Vivaldi, Elgar, Sibelius, Haydn and, for a taste of Australian flavour, pieces by local Jesuit composer Chris Willcock.

After the success of previous tours in Europe Andrew will be building on past experience to provide the singers and instrumentalists with what he hopes will be not just a musically enriching time, but also a culturally enhancing one. “This is not just about the music,” he says. “People who travel expand their horizons. They are more tolerant and patient, more understanding of different cultures, more sophisticated and informed human beings. They are what I call ‘big picture people.’ All these qualities inform the rehearsal process as well as all aspects of performance when we return home. It makes us all better at what we do.” He goes on to explain why it is important for his musicians to experience the grandeur of performing in some of the world’s largest cathedrals as well as some of the more intimate spaces that choral music is so often heard. “How can one really understand the works of composers such as Monteverdi and Gabrielli if one doesn’t understand or has never seen the architecture of the performing space?” He wants the musicians to see what a valued part of the everyday liturgy music plays in towns and cities all over Europe; how rich and strong the tradition is compared with Australia. Most of all, he is keen for them to see the respect and admiration with which musicians in Europe are treated. “Choral music in Australia tends to be considered mostly an amateur pastime. There’s often an attitude that something local isn’t any good. I want to show this talented group of amateurs that that isn’t necessarily the way it has to be. “

I ask Andrew about the opportunities available locally for Melbourne musicians and he laments the recent folding of the SBS Orchestra. “It’s one less valuable place to gain experience. Many of the orchestral players in professional groups like the Melbourne Symphony and Orchestra Victoria gained valuable experience at the SBS and Royal Melbourne Philharmonic Orchestras and some Opera Australia chorus and extra chorus members started with the Australian Children’s Choir. One cannot underestimate the value of groups like this offering valuable performance opportunities.”

Over 100 of Melbourne’s local musicians will be paying their own way for the European experience. There is no local funding and no government grants or assistance. Andrew says they have raised the money “the good old fashioned way.” Choir members sang at various hotels and functions at Christmas time to amass some of the funds and the rest will come out of their own pockets. “I am filled with admiration at the hard work and passion they have all put in to making this happen.”

European concert dates and details at:

www.chamberstringsofmelbourne.com

www.mucs.org.au

For more news on Melbourne musical events, news, views and reviews:

www.classicmelbourne.com.au

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Work and No Pay…Volunteers for Melbourne’s ‘Ring Cycle’ worth their weight in Rheingold…

 

_DSC6536It’s difficult to imagine what a Dental Technician, a Bid Manager, an Art History Lecturer, an International Hotel Consultant and an ex Politician turned High School Teacher could possibly have in common.  This diverse group of individuals, and over one hundred more like them, are all volunteers in Opera Australia’s current ‘Ring Cycle’ production at Melbourne’s State Theatre. Bound by a common desire to be involved in Wagner’s epic work, their motivations are however, interestingly diverse.

Rowan Pollock, 54, was first exposed to Wagner’s works via his opera loving Austrian father who came to Australia as a refugee on the ship ‘HMT Dunera’ at age 18.’ “Dad would play the old recordings at home and he could often be heard singing along despite being somewhat tone deaf.” Rowan first appeared as an extra with the Victoria State Opera as the result of auditioning as a dare back in 1991, and has since appeared in over 30 operas, juggling productions with running his own dental laboratory. In addition to his own love of being on the stage, he felt the experience of learning more about Wagner’s music would be a fitting tribute to his father who passed away three years ago.

_DSC6549Sophia Errey, 65, took out an Opera Australia subscription when she left full time academic life at the end of 2010. She and a friend  debated “too long” about whether or not to purchase tickets to the four Wagner operas and they sold out within days. But in April this year Sophia attended a concert for subscribers and Lyndon Teraccini, Opera Australia’s Artistic Director, alluded to “wanting people” for the project.  “We are watching you,” said Teraccini after asking the audience to join in the Brindisi chorus from La Traviata. She was not at all sure that he was serious but was delighted some days later to receive an email setting out the requirements for volunteers. “I took a deep breath and made up my mind that if I was lucky enough to be accepted I would schedule my year around the rehearsal requirements.”

Ex Senator turned high school teacher, Julian McGauran, 56, simply “signed up for the sheer fun of it” after hearing about the opportunity from the real estate agent and extra chorus member who was selling his house. He has had several walk-on roles with Opera Australia over the years and finds “the smell of grease paint a powerful allure.” He freely admits to never having heard of Wagner’s Ring Cycle.  “Unlike some of the other very knowledgeable volunteers,” he says with good humour, “I pronounced Wagner with a W.”

He wasn’t alone when it came to a certain lack of knowledge about Wagner’s music. Graham Brown, a 66 year old International Hotel Consultant, had concerns about “putting up with a Wagner opera” and worried the music might be “dark and depressing.” After four months of exposure to the operas his fears seem to have been firmly put to rest.  “I am now passionate about many parts of the music, especially some of the Leitmotifs,” he says. “It was a case of not wanting to know Wagner to overnight being submerged in all that is the ‘Ring’. I even visited the Bayreuth Festspielhaus and Wagner’s grave while on holiday in Germany in August. I felt I had to pay my respects.”

_DSC6556Sarah Somers, a 36 year old Bid Manager with an extensive background in theatre saw the chance to volunteer as “a once in a lifetime opportunity.”  Although she is a soprano she says “ I know I will never be a Wagnerian. I will never sing a Rheinmaiden or a Brunnhilde so this was a way to be up close to the majesty and magic of this music. This is the first occasion in my lifetime that a Ring production has been undertaken in Melbourne, and it was just not possible to say ‘no’.” She has earned the appreciation of other volunteers by baking cakes and cookies for each rehearsal. “We sit around when not on stage eating and chatting and, when we can, we watch rehearsals from the auditorium which is fabulous.”

The wonder of watching the production develop and seeing the “professionals” in action is another joy this group have in common. “I can’t get enough of it,” says Sophia, “and I mourn the parts I will never get to see.” They are also respectful, if a little surprised at the amount of work involved. “It’s an eye opener how much rehearsing and re-rehearsing is actually done,” comments Julian. “I watch everyone from the chorus to the dancers to the principles with admiration. So much time and dedication and love is given to perfecting the performances.” The work of the backstage team has not gone unnoticed either. “Life backstage is full on,” says Rowan.” “During the show the mechanists and crew go about their work silently, in darkness, ensuring the smooth transition from one scene to another and the safety of the performers. The public are generally unaware of just how much work goes on behind the walls of the sets.”

The highlights of volunteering are obviously many and varied.  Sophia has enjoyed experiencing the “mystique” of life backstage firsthand. “I enjoy waiting in the corridors, the glimpses of performers, and flourishing my backstage pass with bravado.” She has also wholeheartedly embraced Wagner’s works, voraciously reading libretti and listening to recordings. Julian confirms the thrill he gets from “swiping the pass into the backstage entrance and taking the stairs down into the engine room of the theatre.  I walk the rabbit warren of corridors and pass by the dressing rooms of the stars, making way for them as they appear in their costumes. It’s the greatest show on earth.” Nor does he mind the dinner party kudos that comes with telling people he is participating in the biggest opera project to ever hit town. “People react with admiration and awe ” he proudly says, before cheekily adding that “ I fail to add that I don’t do any singing unless they really press me.”

_DSC6564What about the difficulties? The costumes, especially the bathing suits, seem to have posed a problem for many.  One jokingly suggests that patrons don’t look too closely with their opera glasses and another describes the challenge of appearing scantily clad in front of so many new acquaintances for the first time, let alone in front of thousands of audience members. For others, theatre etiquette has meant understanding a new set of rules. The “no personal jewellery” rule took one volunteer by surprise. “There are two items of jewellery I never take off,” she says, “and I had to work out how to pin the items into my costume to keep them with me.” One tells the story of how, at one early rehearsal for Das Rheingold, the group were told to scream and run away from the character Alberich. “Real men don’t scream,” one gentleman is heard to have responded.  Other gripes are minor as in any workplace: the instant coffee on offer, the noise in the communal dressing room, and fitting the rehearsal schedule into already full and busy lives.

Without exception the volunteers comment on the “inclusiveness” of the experience.  Interested to see if there was an “us and them attitude” Sarah says that the production “could not have been more inclusive. Everyone we have encountered has acknowledged the investment, time and undertaking in the most appreciative manner.” Julian agrees stating that “the principles, chorus, stage crew, orchestra and director are a great bunch of polite and generous people. There’s nothing high and mighty about them.”

With less time now left in front of them than behind them, already this fascinating group are thinking about life “post Ring Cycle.” “What to do now?” asks Sophia. “This has qualified as a life changing experience.” Rowan eloquently talks about returning to “normal” life.  “This has been the highlight of all my years on stage. I have met so many wonderful people and I fear there might be a feeling of emptiness after this amazing spectacle.” Graham concurs, describing the time as “magical.” “The camaraderie, the sharing of an experience, the buzz…those that live in this world all the time might find our feelings are a little over the top.”  Julian eloquently sums up the volunteer journey by commenting that after six months they have all gelled as a team over an incredible life experience. He paraphrases the great Shakespearian lines by King Henry V. ”We will remember what feats we did this day…We happy few, we band of brothers and sisters.”

Wagner’s Ring Cycle is at the State Theatre of Melbourne until the 13th December, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Backstage Banter…a behind the scenes look at the Melbourne ‘Ring Cycle.’

IMG_9245She sashays down the corridor, a sideways glance in the mirror confirming that her spectacularly bejewelled, sequinned costume and feathered headdress is perfectly in place. Two more silver shoed, fish net clad beauties appear alongside immediately conjuring up visions of the Moulin Rouge. But we’re not in Paris. And the girls aren’t dancers. They’re opera singers backstage at the State Theatre in Melbourne, preparing for performances of Wagner’s Ring Cycle. It’s a snapshot of everyday backstage life most patrons will never see.

In the corner the Woodbird from Siegfried sews halloween costumes and a chorus member in a navy blue laboratory coat scans the internet for news on the Sydney bushfires. A soprano in a gold evening gown is knitting with her feet up. Two dashingly clad gentlemen walk past dressed appropriately for Melbourne Spring Racing Carnival. They are mates, laughing and joking together, but they are also characters in Das Rheingold. In a few minutes time one of them will kill the other on stage in Scene Four.

An announcement over the tannoi requires that I make my way to the wigs and make-up room. It’s time to put in my ‘zombie’ contact lenses for my blind entrance as the Earth Mother Erda. The thick white lenses totally startle my colleagues who are seeing them for the first time. photo-4“Oh my God that’s really creepy,” laughs one nervously. I turn around and someone’s baby bursts into tears. Only a beautiful Rheinmaiden can make him smile again. He’s young but obviously already aesthetically inclined. Hopefully Wotan won’t react the same way on his conjugal visit and Brunnhilde will actually make an appearance in Die Walkuere.

0_450_640_0_70_http---i.haymarket.net.au-Galleries-20131119101252_The_Melbourne_Ring_Cycle_2013_1680Next day I get to try on my Chanel inspired suit for the first time. I look very sensible in beige tweed and pearl earrings, a cross between Angela Merkel, Maggie Thatcher and a high school head mistress. I try not to be envious of the tiara, diamante jewellery, dainty slippers and frothy wedding dress carefully laid out on my colleague’s dressing table, reminding myself that both Angela and Maggie would probably turn up their noses at the concept of such frippery. It’s hard not to be totally jealous though when your own props include a blind cane and a wheelchair. Erda’s all encompassing knowledge and wisdom should provide some consolation, although by the end of this particular rehearsal even that will be lost. During the following scene the director calls out from the stalls. “Wotan, you are a bit close to Erda. Try taking a step back and see how that looks.” The man with whom I have had many on stage children whispers in my ear. “It’s the story of my life. I am always getting too close to the ladies.”

photo-8Another day the Valkyries stand side stage while a man from the technical crew inspects our safety harnesses ready for our vertiginous entrance. It’s somewhat embarrasisng the first time as we need to pull down our trousers which involves showing him much more than i imagine he wants to see. But he has an important job and one quickly gets used to displaying the day’s chosen underwear to a complete stranger. We get onto our swings, clip ourselves on and as we are about to fly away one of the 100 or so volunteers who is dressed like a 1950’s housewife approaches me. “Do you remember me Deborah? You taught me singing years ago.” the-melbourne-ring-cycle-opera-australia-2013-die-walkure-the-valkyriesI quip that I can’t have done a very good job if she’s a volunteer. She replies with good humour “Don’t worry, I’ve got a sensible job.” Good point. As we disappear up to our starting positions a Valkyrie colleague sings out “Ho jo to ho, it’s off to work we go.” The seven dwarves never had a day’s work like this I think. The first time up there is pretty scary. It’s difficult to see the conductor four stories up and with your eyes squeezed tightly shut. My first line comes out with a vibrato that is, well, rather shaky.

More interesting characters continue to appear throughout the rehearsal process: a trio of seamstresses in German inspired footwear that makes me feel slightly better about my hiking boots. There’s a naval officer and someone who looks like they are off to play a game of tennis. Is that a used car salesman I see? Wotan’s nagging wife, another lucky mezzo-soprano in beige, appears with a dead animal slung over one shoulder. We console each other over our lack of glamour, happy at least not to be lone members of the beige brigade. An elderly Erda double gives me a view of things to come in about forty years. “Does my bum look big in this?” asks a soprano as she walks past wearing a white velour tracksuit about to do an on stage workout. I can’t answer because I am too busy eating the homemade cookies kindly delivered to the dressing rooms by another cast member. At this precise moment a member of wardrobe staff saunters by. “Careful Miss Deborah,” he says, “we have enough to do without elasticising your trousers.”

Other sights to behold include numerous chorus members and volunteers roaming the corridors in bathing suits with gold streamers stuffed into strategic hiding places (these will later appear as the Rheingold). Brides, bridesmaids and wedding guests are on their way to what appears to be a colourful celebration. Someone appears to be badly injured and covered in fake blood. There’s a girl in a fur coat and a couple of men in woollies obviously off on a hunting trip. A one eyed person is off to put on a long, white wig and some dark glasses. Coloured feathers and silver leotards are everywhere as are factory workers in fetching white caps. Side stage it’s a veritable zoo and difficult not to get up close and personal with all the animals. There’s a Tasmanian tiger, a giraffe, a gazelle, a warthog and many other beasts of burden. Birds hanging from the ceiling look disturbingly lifelike. Grane the horse seems strangely inert there in the dark and I can’t help but give her a consoling pat.

photo-11Dressers and wardrobe staff are frantically busy. They make cups of tea, do emergency repairs, collect washing, replace laddered tights and then get into the spirit of things by deciding to have a homemade hat making day in honour of Melbourne Cup. There is a hat featuring pins and needles and my favourite is a bicycle surrounded by a ring made out of metal coathangers. A RIng Cycle. Yes, there can be a lot of waiting around in this saga and it’s important to fill in the time backstage. Going to the toilet at least thirty times before and during a performance fills in a bit of time. So does torturing yourself by listening to Christa Ludwig’s recording of Waltraute in Die Goetterdaemmerung five minutes before you do it yourself. Writing blogs in the five hour break between appearing onstage and taking a curtain call is another favourite pastime.

Eventually Christmas decorations appear in the wardrobe room. Apparently it’s that time of year again although it’s hard to tell what’s going on in the real world down here in the dark bowels of the theatre. But hey, who needs tinsel, coloured Christmas tree baubles and traditional carols when we have all of this going on?

– All characters are fictional and bear absolutely no resemblance to anyone living

– Official photos by Jeff Busby

– Dominica Matthews (Rheinmaiden) in top photo

 

 

Saigon Stopover

IMG_9814Sensory overload. The sights, smells and sounds of Saigon assault you the moment you leave the haven of the airport. It is immediate and somewhat overwhelming. But amazing and exciting too. My first thought is simply “traffic.” Traffic like I have never seen it anywhere else in the world. Motor cycles, millions of them, weave in and out of the trucks, cars, vans and other less conventional modes of transport.  The Lonely Planet guide I am clutching and praying over like a bible in the back seat of the taxi calls it “a carefully choreographed ballet of chaos.”  It’s a very apt description. Entire families seem to fit precariously on one small scooter along with their chickens and other livestock. The rules of engagement are not immediately obvious but my taxi driver has clearly played this game before and I arrive at my hotel in one piece. I sigh with relief and face the next challenge; crossing the road. An obvious break in the flow of traffic never arrives. IMG_9787After twenty minutes of watching to see what everyone else does I shut my eyes, step off the curb and march blindly to the other side, hoping against hope that I actually have nine lives. But it’s like magic really. It’s as if I have the power to part the Red Sea. The throng just moves right around me as if  I am not even there. Who knew the mere act of crossing a street could be so exciting? The cacophany of horns, the vibrancy and vitality of the streets is hugely energising and I feel the jet lag draining away. I decide to repeat the exercise and cross again to the other side, just to see if I can. It’s the beginning of a little game I play for the next seven days, luckily for me without the need to see if my travel insurance is as comprehensive as I think it is.

The following morning I take a bicycle ride to the Tan Binh markets. I always think local markets are some of the best places for a perfect snapshot of real life. IMG_9065They don’t disappoint and there is a lot to take in. I take photos of the brightly coloured fruits and vegetables I have never seen before, sniff delightedly at baskets of exotic herbs and spices, give the boxes of still slithering snakes slit right up the middle a wide berth and try not to tread on the half dead fish flapping around on the concrete floor. Scales, insides and bits of carcass are being hosed into drains. I vow never to wear open shoes to another Asian market. I catch sight of what can only be a dog boiling away in a pot and feel the sudden urge to contribute to the mess on the floor. The line up of skinned rats hanging by their tails from the ceiling puts an end to my market morning and I head outside to get some air. At lunch time I head for the nearest vegetarian stall.

IMG_9058My stomach has recovered enough to attend the Saigon Cooking School the next day where the ingredients look somewhat more conventional and I happily learn to prepare fried spring rolls, lotus stem salad with shrimps and the famous and delectable beef soup known as Pho Bo.

IMG_9072We finish with the smiling chef Hoa Tuc teaching us to carve vegetable flowers out of chillies, tomatoes and carrots. When complete mine don’t look anything like flowers and my fingers are carved up more than the vegetables, but he encouragingly informs me that practice makes perfect.

The food theme continues over the next two days as I head out to some floating markets on the mighty Mekong River. It is such a busy place it is difficult to know where to look. The clothes of the locals are as vibrant and diverse as the food on offer; colourful polka dots blending with florals and stripes and always complemented by the iconic and conical Non La hat. IMG_9233I feel like I am in photographer’s paradise but remind myself it is sometimes better to look at life with the naked eye. I climb onboard a boat where a man skilfully carves up a pineapple with what appears to be a small machete before proudly adding a small stick and presenting me with a pineapple ‘lollypop.’ My delicious snack is worth ten cents. Another boat floats by and I see two women, heads bent together, counting the morning’s cash takings. I hope they have had a productive day. I am approached by a Vietnamese, English speaking guide who offers to show me around on shore. He has had an extraordinary life. Working for the Americans as a translator during the war he was then convicted as a traitor and jailed for fifteen years. Now forbidden to apply for work in his own country he makes an unofficial living from guiding tourists. I tell him I am more interested in his story than anything else and we enjoy an hour or so together over green tea. His eyes are as wide as saucers when I explain the concept of medical insurance and coverage in Australia. This highly intelligent man tells me that if he broke a leg he would wrap the limb between two splints and return to his village for his recovery. During that eight weeks or so of not earning any money he would most likely die of infection or hunger. “Good idea to stay healthy here,” he finishes with a smile as he shakes my hand.

On the way back to the city I visit the Cao Dai Temple outside of Tay Ninh and observe one of the four daily chanting services. Like most things I have witnessed here in South Vietnam it is a place full of colourful sights and extraordinary sounds. IMG_8983A traditional orchestra of ten join the twenty or so choral voices in worship and the priests’ robes of white, blue, yellow or red make a stark contrast with the elaborately tiled floors, sky blue ceiling and intricately decorated columns.   The divine “eye of God” seems to be keeping a very close watch over all my movements and I silently ask whichever God my guiding friend believes in to grant him the gift of perpetual good health.

IMG_9004     Back in Saigon I have a final walk around the city and stop to admire the Opera House and it’s French Colonial architecture. Surrounded by wide, tree-lined boulevards I could almost believe that I am back in Paris and the thought serves as another reminder of the turbulent and varied history of this amazing city and it’s inhabitants. It is certainly a place I would like to come back to one day. When I leave this time I take with me the impression of an unbelievably colourful, vibrant city in motion. A city that seems to be full of the most friendly, endlessly smiling and welcoming people I have ever met.

For more images see “Snapshots of South Vietnam” on this site.

 

 

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