All posts by Claire

About Claire

Wandering (and wondering) development professional and aspiring aid worker. Contact me on anticipationofwonder[at]gmail[dot]com

Glorious music, exquisite voices, passionate dances and a set that almost stole the show

Arts, Daegu

The 33rd Periodical Performance of the Daegu City Opera was a triumph of art. As seems to be the norm with shows in Korea, or perhaps just those I have been lucky enough to attend, this production was big. As well as the Daegu City Opera, the production of G Verdi’s La Traviata showcased the significant talents of the DaeguCity Symphony Orchestra and included contributions from the Daegu City Choir and the Daegu City Modern Dance Troupe.

The story of La Traviata is one of love, loss, honour and tragedy. Violetta, a Parisian courtesan, meets, on her return to society after an illness, an admirer by the name of Alfredo Germont. Although she brushes off his declaration of love, saying that she prefers to a life of freedom, she is touched by his earnestness. Act II finds the two living in pleasant domesticity in a house in the country. When Alfredo discovers that she has sent her maid to sell off her possessions in order to continue financing their love-retreat, he feels ashamed and sets off to make things right at his own cost. While he is away, Violetta is visited by Alfredo’s father, Giorgio Germont who pleads his case, not only for his reckless son but also for Alfredo’s sister whose engagement is threatened by his scandalous affair. Although Violetta proclaims that she cannot relinquish his love, she is eventually convinced and sits down to write a farewell note to Alfredo. While she is writing, he surprises her, but instead of telling him why she is so distraught, she assures him again and again of her love and then leaves. Alfredo is calmly awaiting a visit from his father when a messenger arrives with a letter, the letter from Violetta ending their affair. In his despair, he sends his father, away and, finding an invitation to a ball that evening, decides to meet the woman who has broken his heart. Violetta arrives at the ball with her former companion, the Baron Bouphol, who, after warning her to stay away from Alfredo, challenges Alfredo to play at cards. Alfredo wins the game, claiming that unlucky in love is lucky in cards. As they go in to dinner Violetta asks to speak to Alfredo and warns him that he must leave. In a rage, he accuses her of loving another. She says lies and says that she does. In front of everyone, he throws his winnings at her feet and publicly insults the lady. The party guests rebuke him for his actions and the Baron challenges him to duel. Six months later, the final scene opens in Violetta’s bedroom, where she lies dying of consumption. Outside the crowds are celebrating Mardi Gras but she is broken-hearted. She receives a letter from Giorgio informing her that the Baron was only injured in the duel and Alfredo now knows the truth and is one his way to see her but she frets because he has not yet come. Her heart soars when Alfredo arrives and they declare that they will leave Paris and live together in their love, but it is too late for Violetta, who dies at her true lover’s feet.

The soaring tragedy of Verdi’s music (and the story-line) makes this an Opera packed with emotion, something that the excellent and well-trained voices of the two leads, Lee, Hwa Young (Violetta) and Lee, Hyeon (Alfredo) carried beautifully. At times, their movements were a little excessively dramatic, stumbling with rage or grief, but their operatic performance was passionate and accurate. Perhaps the best interaction, however, was between Lee, Hwa Young (Violetta) and Lee, In Cheol (Giorgio), whose portrayal of a powerful father pleading for this courtesan to release his son was heart-rending yet simultaneously compassionate. In addition to Lee, In Cheol’s great acting, his gorgeous voice was like liquid velvet.

Most of the other voices and performances were equally good, with the possible exception for Gastone who was a little quiet during the first act. The choir that supported the leads, under Chorus Master, Park, Young Ho, was also excellently trained and added depth and richness to the vocal music as well as numbers on stage.

The dancing was a dramatic addition. I thought the decision to use modern dancers in what was otherwise a fairly classical operatic performance was interesting. It also complemented the set, which I will get to in the a moment. For the most part, the dancing was a subtle artistic highlight – a brush-stroke emphasizing the other activity on the stage and in the music. In the first act, the dancers added action and lightness to Violetta’s party, for example. In the third act, they were the main attraction at Flora’s ball. Their dramatic movements and intense portrayal gave visual life to the words of the opera. Overall, the dance added the same depth visually that the choir added musically.

All of this added together to create a wonderfully rich and engaging experience. All of it, however, was almost topped by the visual (stage, costume and lighting) design. I include costume and lighting design here because they was very definitely a part of the visual impact but the real star for me was the set by Lim, Chang Joo. Over the years of watching performances, I have seen a variety of approaches to set design. Opera is the theatre genre with which I have probably the least experience, but even within this genre, I have seen different approaches. Both the version of La Rondine I saw in Cape Town and the Madama Butterfly I saw here used large, static sets aimed at creating some sort of realism. The Brunch Opera version of La Rondine I saw here also went for something like realism but this time using just a few props and a very basic backdrop. This La Traviata set used emptiness and minimalism to create a box or, from the audiences perspective, a frame, that seemed to capture and contain the opera’s intense emotion and music and make it even more powerful.

The basic set was a huge, empty white box. In the prelude and first Act, colour was added by a huge red set of steps suspended at the back of the stage, a red wooden horse lowered from the ceiling on a single white pole, on which Violetta sat and was raised up at various points, and a floor-to ceiling pop-art-style portrait that reoccured as a theme throughout the staging. On the left of the stage were five chair-sized 3D letters – A, M, O, U, R. The scene opened with four dancers sitting perfectly still, draped on and around the letters and Violetta standing half way up the staircase in shadow. The dancers wore black dresses with blue scarves and as they came to life and moved silently towards Violetta, added living brush-strokes of colour to create the dramatic visual movement (complemented by excellent lighting design). Violetta’s outfit, however, was completely traditional. As the action proceeded, the letters were used to visually complement the music as Alfredo lifted them and lined them up to spell ‘amour’ as he talked of love and Violetta knocked them back down as she brushed off his declaration.

The letters remained a feature, arranged in various forms through-out the rest of the show. In the second act, the red staircase was gone but the letters remained. The rest of the set included chairs and tables – all white and shaped like steps. There was also a red tricycle with two red balloons tied to the handle-bars and two teddy-bears sitting on the table. During the scene at the ball, the visual drama peaked when the female dancers and choir members, this time with red scarves over their black clothes, rose – in a perfectly still silhouette-style tableaux – from below the stage. The theme of all the costumes in this scene was black and red, capturing the drama. Modern props added an extra edge to the visual presentation, such as a photograph of his daughter handed to Violetta by Giorgio and a modern IV stand in the final scenes.

The set (plus costumes and lighting) was imaginative and modern and as visually dramatic as the opera is musically. The stark backdrop and clear colours (black, white, red, blue) highlighted the words and music and the hard proscenium arch of the white frame separated the audience from the action in a way that somehow encouraged suspension of disbelief. I found myself (and find myself again) wishing I had the vocabulary to accurately describe and think about the effect. As a non-expert, I am struggling to explain it beyond being able to say that it was exceptionally effective and left me wishing I could go back and take pictures analyse it academically to figure out why it made the whole opera more real by not being realistic, how it both contained and magnified the intensity and emotion.

The opera was long. It started shortly after the advertised 4pm – anyone who is a stickler for show punctuality should be prepared to put that aside when attending an Opera in Korea. After many, very much justified curtain calls, we finally left shortly before 7pm. But it was 3 very worthwhile hours. If I had the chance, I would gladly see the show again. This production of La Traviata was both an excellent opera and an exceptional theatre experience. Many people shy away from opera because they don’t understand it or don’t think they will enjoy it but this show has convinced me, more than any other, that anyone who is in Daegu would be making a mistake not to take advantage the opportunity to experience Opera at the Daegu Opera House.

La Traviata was directed by Chung, Kab Gyun and conducted by Diego Crovetti, under the artistic direction of Kim, Sung Bin and executive producer Lee, Jae Jin. It was presented by the Daegu City Opera with the Daegu City Symphony Orchestra and performances by the Daegu City Choir and Daegu City Modern Dance Troupe at the Daegu Opera House 22 to 24 April 2010.

Anticipating Opera

Arts, Daegu, ,

I woke up this morning feeling tingly with anticipation. There was sunshine creeping in my window and blue sky outside, sharpened by the contrast with rolling white clouds around the edges. I am off to the Opera today. I am so excited. I haven’t been to the Opera since I saw Madama Butterfly in December. This is not for lack of trying. There simply haven’t been any performances that I was able to attend since then. So I am excited to see Opera again. Actually, I’m excited to see any theatre. I’m feeling a little art-starved at the moment.

This is, of course, brought sharply into focus by the fact that I now know that I’ll be home in time to see at least a few days of the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown in July. Fest has become (for my mother and me at least) an annual pilgrimage  to several days – a week if we can manage it – of intensive culture and arts immersion. It is the most amazingly stimulating, relaxing, exciting, fulfilling experience. For those who have never experienced Fest, it is a week long  festival of arts and culture, including drama, dance, comedy, visual arts, music of all varieties, cinema, flee markets and street theatre (this year extended to 15 days of AMAZ!NG ). There are nearly 500 different performances, showings and exhibitions in that time. Some of them are funded ‘main’ productions, such as the annual festival ballet – this year Cape Town City Ballet performing Carmen (swoon), the gala and symphony concerts (conducted by Richard Cock – swoon again) plus other musical performances from the likes of Vusi Mahlasela, BLK Sonshine and Samson Diamond (SBYA for music), major theatre productions and developmental student theatre. There is also the Jazz Festival where some of the top jazz artists around (Concord Nkabinde, Sibongile Khumalo, etc., etc.) perform and new talent is showcased. The ‘fringe’ festival has hundreds more shows, some of which will flop completely but many of which are world-class theatre by some of the top performers in the country, who at no other time gather in one place, making Fest the only opportunity to see them all in action in just 15 days. Physical theatre, live music, dance, drama, plenty of comedy and the usual festival standards like ‘Raiders’ and (although I find him annoying and would never see his show) Stef: the ‘fringe’ is an integral part of the variety and diversity that makes Fest a unique cultural experience. Alongside this are ‘Word Fest’ – a literary festival that warms my heart,  Winter School (recently renamed ‘ThinkFest’) where some of the countries top minds come together to talk about topics ranging from law and  neuropsychanalysis to hip hop activism and sports versus art. Oh, and as a myriad visual arts exhibitions by a wide variety of artists.  To someone for whom all of the above equal joy, Fest is an abundantly joyous experience. This will also be enhanced, this year, by seeing my family for the first time 12 months (yay!) and by the prospect of touching base with friends (some of whom are now showing up as experts and performers in the Fest programme – as odd as that may seem). So the anticipation runs high, even two months away and even though I am very sad that there does not seem to be a way for me to make it back in time for the ballet, the gala or symphony concerts or the lecture on a century since South African Union, given by one of my all-time favourite South African historians.

The anticipation of Fest and the knowledge that it is just a couple of months away, make the anticipation of this Opera even more thrilling. Today’s Opera is La Traviata (G Verdi) performed by the Daegu City Opera at the Daegu Opera House. It’s a matinee performance at 4pm. I’ve never seen La Traviata and am very much looking forward to it. I have researched the story, of course, so that I can follow, because the synopsis that is handed out is generally in Korean and therefore not helpful to me. After 10 months I know enough basic Korean to buy things in shops and direct taxi drivers but I definitely cannot claim to speak the language and would probably still, even had I been studying Korean seriously this whole time, not be able to understand enough to follow an Opera synopsis.

In the midst of all this art-sy anticipation, a friend and I are also preparing for a trip to the cultural heartland of Korea next weekend. We’re both quite excited to see some history and culture although the planning is attended in this case by rather a lot of frustration and dead ends – it appears not all Korean tourist destinations have managed to become English-tourist-friendly. At this point we may or may not have booked accommodation at a place that may or may not have an actual name. It should be an interesting weekend and finding out all I can so that we don’t miss any of the wonderfulness is yet another part of why today is a day filled with the anticipation of wonder and the joy of looking forward to the things (and the people with whom I will share those things) that are good and special and joyful in my humble little life.

Spring picnic

Adventures, Daegu, ,

Spring has finally arrived in Korea. Well, the spring blossoms have arrived. The weather is still annoying and a little crazy. Last week Wednesday, for example, it snowed. On Saturday, however, the sun came out and the weather promised to be relatively warm. Perfect weather for a picnic. It feels like ages since I had a relaxed weekend that didn’t involve going somewhere or at least planning to go somewhere, so the main aim of the day was to find a pleasant spot with some sunshine and some prettiness and sprawl out with a book on a blanket.

I decided to go to Duryu Park, my favourite park here in Daegu. Getting there is even easier from my new area (Jisan) – I just walk down past the hut towards Castle Gold Park and pick up a number #3-1 bus from there. It takes about 20 minutes by bus to get to the park.

The first thing I saw when I stepped off the bus was a road, with hills of green stretching away on each side, lined, all the way to where it wound around a corner in the distance, with trees in full spring bloom. After several abortive attempts to travel to other parts of the country to find some spring flowers, it seems the place to look was right here all along. There are certainly more than cherry blossoms. I like all the spring flowers. I do see the particular appeal of the cherry blossoms, however.

This is the first time I’ve seen cherry blossoms in the forests, when I took a walk through the wooded hills of Duryu park. They’re particularly beautiful against the fresh spring green of new leaves and the bare branches of those trees still waiting for the season’s change to reach them. I still think they may be most spectacular in avenues, however. There is an avenue of cherry trees along one side of Suseong Lake. It took a while for the trees to blossom. In fact, trees scattered around the other three sides of the lake had blossomed up to a week earlier and I thought these trees must be some other sort. Until I went walking at the lake last Tuesday and found myself walking beneath a canopy of delicate pink blossoms, meeting above my head and painting the whole world the shade of a romantic movie. The thing about cherry blossoms, apart from the exquisitely delicate pale-pink colour, is the density of flowers. A lot of blossom trees have just one or two blossoms on a branch. This can be beautiful but it means that the blossoms are individual delicate flowers. For pure spectacular-ness, they simply cannot compete, however, with the way that cherry blossoms cluster along branches and absolutely cover the tree with their glorious beauty. This is, of course, also highlighted by the dark brown trunk and branches occasionally glimpsed through the flower-clusters. I’ve tried, several times, to capture the gloriousness of the cherry blossom spring in photographs but it seems to resist being caught on film, so I suppose this will just have to be a memory I carry in my mind.

The other thing about cherry blossoms I discover – again while walking at the lake – is cherry blossom snow. I refer, of course, to the falling cherry blossom petals. I found myself earlier this week, walking along that same avenue of cherry blossoms, this time with the wind whirling cherry blossom petals around me like snowflakes. Suddenly I was walking through spring. I couldn’t resist spinning around in joy.

On Saturday, I saw some cherry blossom trees and enjoyed their glory but I equally enjoyed the other flowers and the spring-green of new leaves, as well as other bits and pieces of a spring day – like tiny orange fish darting around a pond, a middle-ages lady fast asleep on a wooden platform and a soccer team kicking around a ball. I was due to meet a friend for a bit of a picnic, so, after walking a little in the hills and meandering around taking tons of photographs (having discovered a new setting on my camera that simply had to be tried out), I headed for the stadium. I wasn’t sure where to find a quiet spot to spread out my blanket because there didn’t seem to be many lawns so I thought I’d sit in the stands for a bit and get my breath back before trying again.
As I walked up the steps to the top of the stands, I stepped into glorious sunshine. I don’t think I had really thought about how long it had been since I had been outdoors without a long-sleeved top of some sort. It isn’t the kind of thing one thinks about much. On Saturday afternoon, for the first time in months and months, I took off the jackets and jerseys and layers and sat in the spring sunshine in just a T-shirt. It was glorious.

I found a quiet, flat patch of grass about half-way up the stands and spread out my orange blanket that came with me all the way from South Africa and proved so multi-functional over the years. My friend was later than she expected to be, but I hardly noticed as I lay on my blanket and read a book with the sunshine on my back. In a world where it rains so much of the time and is overcast even when it isn’t raining, and where my working hours mean that I only get home around 11pm and so sleep through a lot of the daylight, an hour or two of being outside and warm and curled up like a kitten in the sun is just gorgeous.

The sun was starting to drop towards the horizon and workmen setting up a stage in the middle of the stadium/arena as we packed up to head home, slanting rays of light filtering through the cherry blossom trees to follow us to the bus stop. Since then, there has been one more day of warmth in between the chilly (and today downright cold) weather. I’m really hoping it changes properly soon and that there will be plenty more picnic-weather-Saturdays in my last few months in Korea.