Un Tramway Nommé Désir / La Comédie-Française



Un Tramway Nommé Désir (A Streetcar Named Desire)

La Comédie-Française

5 February - 2 June 2011, 8.30pm

6-39 euros

In French

****

La Comédie-Française's decision to stage the first American play in its 330 year history has caused quite a stir amongst the French theatrical establishment.  The company's closely guarded repetoire admitted Shakespeare's 'Merry Wives of Windsor' only last season, and now, in an effort to raise the company's international profile, diversify it's audience, and thus compensate for europe-wide spending cuts that have hit the heavily-subsidised French institution particularly hard, the Comédiens-Français have commissioned New Yorker Lee Breuer to direct Tennessee Williams' 'A Streetcar Named Desire" for its prestiguous Salle Richelieu.

 Under the direction of renowned avant-garde director Breuer, experimental theatre company Mabou Mines re-imagine this great classic of nineteenth-century theatre in an elaborate and highly conceptual production that seeks to utilise the elegance of Orientalist Japanese decor and theatrical techniques as a metaphor for William's antebellum South.  Lavishly embroidered kimonos replace the white lace dresses associated with Vivien Leigh's faded southern belle, and as the sisters trip around the stage reminissing about the family's Mississippi plantation, Belle Reve, their every move, each bourbon and each cigarette, is facilitated by a silent troup of masked kuroko stagehands.  Indeed, the production's overtly Japanese aesthetic creates a suitably sensual backdrop for Stanley and Stella's passionate relationship whilst allowing menacing dark shadows to haunt Blanche's fantastically decadent dreamland from the start.    From the very moment Blanche steps off her streetcar, these dark shadows subtly but relentlessly break down the divisions between reality and performance, actuality and theatricality, the security of definition and borderless chaos.

Magnificent painted dogugaeshi screens, depicting the harrowing images of a warrior killed in battle, descend over the stage and produce a similar effect to a flip book, layering progressively disturbing glimpses of Blanche's inner turmoil to represent her simultaneous rejection of and obsession with the bloody traumas of her stained past.

However, after three and a quater hours of grand scene changes along an extrodinary diversity of thematic lines; the stage variously hosts several New Orleans jazz interludes, a somewhat uneccessary metamorphosis of Stella into Stanley's guardian angel (complete with rigging), and a rather scary scene which sees the latter transformed from a hard-drinking Hell's Angel to a truly terrifying clown of the nightmare variety, it almost seems as if Breuer has gone too far in distancing this landmark production from the straight-up realism of Elia Kazan's 1951 film classic.  The clash of thematic accents detracts from the effective unifying force of Orientalist Japan and although it feels as if no expense has been spared, it likewise feels as if no artistic idea whatsoever has been discarded.

The cast deliver a tight, energetic and unified performance, as is to be expected from La Comédie-Française troupe, even when under the direction of a non-French speaker such as Breuer.  An outstanding, fresh interpretation from Françoise Gillard as Stella, together with Eric Ruf's clownish Stanley, produces an utterly absorbing and convincing on-stage relationship between husband and wife; and Anne Kessler as Blanche DuBois brings the perfect balance of vanity, grace, fragility and finally desperation to the iconic role.

An ambitious, intelligent, somewhat baffling but nonetheless visually spectacular production that triumphantly marks the premier of american playwriting at La Comédie-Française.

Orchestre de Paris - Paavo Järvi - Gidon Kremer / Salle Pleyel

Ludwig van Beethoven and Alan Berger
Orchestre de Paris conducted by Paavo Jarvi with Gidon Kremer
Salle Pleyel
10th March, 8pm
10-60 euros

****

Following the critical and commercial success of Théâtre La Colline's staging of Alban Berg's opera Lulu in December of last year, Paavo Järvi conducts the Orchestre de Paris with violinist Gidon Kremer, performing the composer's best-known violin concerto, 'To the memory of an angel', at the Salle Pleyel.

Legendary Latvian violinist and prolific recording artist, Gidon Kremer performs with characteristic sensitivity, bringing out all the pained delicacy of Berg's concerto and amply illustrating the composer's vision of the violin's dark expressive possibilities within the new idiom of modern music.  His handling of the very difficult passages of the Allegro is, as expected, flawless. Tonight's billing provides a rare opportunity to hear one of the world's foremost violinists and, further, a musician who has become widely respected for his experimentation with unconventional repertoire, and it has sold out the Salle Pleyel on a Thursday night.  The audience is generally young, their style rather avant garde for this grand institution of the 8th arrondisement.

The Berg revival continues to gather momentum throughout Paris' 2011 Season; the composer's work has featured in four concerts at the Salle Pleyel thus far this year; Christopher Eschenbach will conduct three more of his pieces in the same hall later this month; and Lulu will return to the Parisian stage at Opera Bastille in October.  Berg's dark and complex psychological themes, along with his convoluted and remorselessly violent modern style may not be to everyone's taste but they do seem to be appealing to a growing audience.

The evening's programme opens with Beethoven's overture  Consecration of the House (Die Weihe des Hauses), op.124, and closes with his Symphony No. 4, providing an energised, rousing contrast to Berg's melancholic and uncomfortably angular concerto.  Järvi's assured, if reserved, style induces a performance of remarkable control and precision from the Orchestre de Paris, and there is a much energy to be felt during the Symphony's anticipatory lulls as during its magnificent climax thanks to the impressive restraint he inspires.  Beautiful violin solos from Philippe Aiche and Roland Daugareil, and a spectacular performance from the brass section, once again emphasise restraint and precision and never permit Beethoven's finesse to be obscured by the high energy of his composition.  A very good performance indeed that bodes well for both Paavo Järvi's first season conducting the Orchestre de Paris and Alban Berg's ongoing presence on the Parisian stage.

Life and Times Episode 1 / Théâtre des Abbesses

Life and Times Episode 1

Théâtre des Abbesses

1-5 March 2011, 7.30pm

13-24 euros

Sung in English with English and French subtitles

***

Created and directed by Kelly Copper and Pavol Liska, of experimental, New York-based company The Nature Theater of Oklahoma, this verbatim piece sets a telephone conversation to music composed by Robert M. Johanson.
Billed as "a marathon musical worthy of the word epic", Life and Times – Episode 1 derives from the first conversation Liska had with the subject of this study Kristin Worrall, wherein she makes the first attempt to tell her life story; spanning from her birth until her eighth year.  The NTO propose to stage the remaining hours of dialogue over the next 10 years, creating a total 24 hours of theatre.  An epic project indeed.  Yet the subject matter is stubbornly "average", recognisably what we have come to regard as "normal", an almost event-less narrative of a suburban American childhood; and it has a vocabulary to match.  Every single word of the conversation is translated onto the stage, resulting in a piece of musical theatre that could be subtitled 'The Unexpected Poetry of Er and Um'.

With a running time of over three and a half hours, this production is far too long.  Neither the subject matter nor the presentation style is capable of maintaining the audience's interest and by the end of the performance around two thirds have left.  The project of creating a poetry out of the prosaic, of discovering the profound in the quotidian, would have been undiminished by slicing off an hour and a half.

The ensemble performance delivered by Anne Gridley, Julie Lamendola and Alison Weisgall is truly impressive; polished to perfection, intelligent in its conception and consistently high energy.  Other performers, who take on comparatively minor roles during the play's second half, are less impressive and the stylistic disruption caused by the introduction of a jumbled male chorus undermines the production's effective minimalism.  Musicians Daniel Gower, Kristin Worrall and, in particular, Robert M. Johanson who composed all the music, provide much of the production's driving force from the tiny orchestra pit front of stage, collaborating with the physical performers to create an original piece of singing theatre as opposed to another example of cosy musical theatre.

Unfortunately, the theory of Life and Times Episode 1 is somewhat more interesting than its theatrical manifestation.  One leaves the theatre thinking it very clever but hardly anticipating the next instalment, let alone the further twenty-one hours of dressed-up, intellectualised banality to come.  A good opportunity to see The Nature Theater Of Oklahoma at work but from what is on show here in Abbesses, the hype seems to somewhat resemble the play; theoretically sound but rather unsubstantial and unsatisfying in reality.

Endgame / Shakespeare & Co.

Endgame

Shakespeare and Company, 37 Rue de la Bûcherie

8pm, 1st February

Free

In English

Plastic sheets have been strung up from the lines of lanterns outside Paris' historic english-language bookshop Shakespeare & Co., and the rain is coming down with such force that the students and Beckett fans huddled under this leaky parapet are hardly able to discern the mighty Notre Dame just across the river from this makeshift theatre.  Huge golf umbrellas are handed out by cast members and newcomers join in the general lament on meteorological misfortune whilst selecting the least-wet chair.  Somebody wipes down Beckett's eponymous ashcans (that we know contain two very uncomfortable, and by now very wet, actors) and the guy operating the spotlight looks nervously at the wires.  Yet, the mood is upbeat, jokes about apocalyptic appropriateness are flowing - a few of these reveal gross misunderstandings of the Beckett oeuvre but we all laugh anyway, and when the director asks if we should move the show upstairs to Shakespeare's tiny reading room the answer is a unanimous no.

The performance itself is triumphantly amateurish, Hamm and Clov interrupt one another with much greater frequency than I remember, the alarm clock only works fifty percent of the time (dampness) and great chunks of the text are absent.  Nell is not cued in and thus does not speak a single line throughout the play despite being squashed into an ashcan for over an hour; well, Beckett did once say that if he were to have his way, all actors would be confined to dustbins.  Yet, despite all this the play is very enjoyable and even the sheeting rain enhances the cruelty and grotesque flamboyancy of Hamm as he orders the deformed Clov to again and again hazard the slippery steps off stage.  Of course, when Clov gazes out of the window to report he can see water everywhere, he enjoys laughs all round.  A haphazard production that does well to bring out the absurd and the hilarious, even if this may often appear incidental, with a strong leading partnership that creates a pair of Beckettian clowns to rival Vladimir and Estragon.

Shakespeare & Co. do not advertise all of their literary events online so it is always best to call into the shop and chat to the ever-friendly and always knowledgeable staff or just have a look at the board outside if you are interested in their poetry readings, book signing, talks and plays.  Shakespeare's will always be an invaluable resource and one of the best meeting places for those seeking English-language culture in Paris, no matter how rough around the edges that culture might prove to be.

The Barber of Seville / Théâtre du Châtelet

Le Barbier de Séville

Théâtre du Châtelet

22nd, 24th, 26th, 28th January 8pm and 30th at 3pm.

10-141 euros

In Italian with French subtitles

*** 
Co-produced by the Teatro Real (Madrid) and the Teatro Nacinal Sao Carlos (Lisbon), Emilio Sagi's highly anticipated 2005 production of Rossini's The Barber of Seville arrives at the Théâtre du Châtelet for just five sell-out performances this January.  Conducted by Jean-Christophe Spinosi, this conservative production is rather narrow in its references and features a somewhat lacklustre cast, yet manages to carve out a pleasing dramatic and musical unity, however simplistic this may be.
The almost cartoonish simplicity of Llorenç Corbella's design serves the plot of this comic masterpiece well and produces an aesthetically exciting production, culminating in a spectacular, fluorescent finale to complete the shift from the black and white austerity of the opening scene to the triumphant realisation of Rosina and Almaviva's love at the opera's close.  This ensemble celebration of the classic comedic triumph of youth over age is composed of the very best aspects of this production, successfully combining bold modernist design and technology and classic Spanish Sevillana, as choreographed by Nuria Castejon.  Sagi, as artistic director of the Teatro Real, once again amply displays his skill for Spanish-inspired productions, following his admiral interpretation of Carmen in 2010 and a highly acclaimed production of Zarzuela recently staged at Milan's La Scala with Placido Domingo.

However, Sagi could certainly be accused of substituting style for substance, both musically and theatrically.  Many of dramatist Pierre de Beaumarchais' thematic interests, such as opera buffa's all-important exploration of the class tensions of the early 19th-century, are played down to vanishing point.  No hint is offered of the marital tensions to be revealed in Mozart's sequel, The Marriage of Figaro, and any darker shades of subtlety are wholly subsumed by the extravagant multicoloured festivities.

A cast of varying quality works well together to maintain a fast-pace of action and a fine balance of comedy and pathos.  In the title role, Bruno Taddia capitalises on a strong stage presence to craft endearing moments of gentle humour, but his energetic physicality fails to compensate for a disappointingly weak vocal performance.  Rising Rossini tenor Bogdan Mihai presents a delicate, handsome Count Almaviva in fine contrast to Tiziano Bracci's blustering, aggressive Bartolo; and if Anna Stephany's acting  is of a rather bland variety, the varied interpretation and vocal agilityof the soprano make her a strong female lead.

A light-hearted production that avoids the clichéd and the camp but misses much of the seriousness of Rossini's great comedy in the process.

Rubens, Poussin and 17th Century Artists / Musée Jacquemart-André

                              

Rubens, Poussin and 17th Century Artists
Musée Jacquemart-André
24th September 2010 - 24th January 2011
10.50/12 euros
Audioguides available in English and French

***

Assembled from around sixty paintings from the choicest private and public collections in Europe, this exhibition sets out to highlight the importance of the Flemish movement in France at the beginning of the 17th century. By displaying the works from the two great artistic movements of the 17th century: Flemish Baroque painting, of which Rubens is the chief protagonist, and the French Classical school led by Poussin, curators Nicolas Sainte Fare Garnot and Jan de Maere succinctly trace the progression of Flemish and French painting through the 17th century and successfully illustrate the intensity and wealth of the cultural exchanges between these two countries.

The exhibition's most compelling section focuses on the rise of French Classical art during the second half of the 17th century and its influence on Flemish art, thereby highlighting the reversal of influence which operated between these two schools during the century. Particularly impressive pieces include Gérard Douffet, Bertholet Flémal, and Gérard Goswin's Triple Portrait (1660-1670), painted by three hands this beautiful painting reflects the rare spirit of cooperation that prevailed in the workshops Liege at the time; Jean-Guillaume Carlier's Le Christ appelant à lui les petits enfants, which reveals an extraordinary synthesis of Carlier's fine draftsmanship and powerful colouring, and the fascinating conflation of influences from Caravaggio to Poussin; and Gérard de Lairesse's classical triumph La Fête de Vénus (1667-1670). Indeed, these three examples embody the exhibition's greatest draw, that is, the vast range of styles and the great variety of subjects within this relatively small collection. From great assembled family portraits to minature self-reflections, from the epic landscapes of Gaspard Duguet to intricate animal art and still lifes, and from the quotidian subjects and models of Flemish genre painting to the terrific mythological set-pieces and Roman military subjects of French Classicism.

Excellent mounted notes (in French) provide a comprehensive socio-political background to these great artistic movements, illuminating, in particular, Rubens' patronage by Mary of Medicis, Queen of France, and thus the history of Antwerp's domination of the French art scene at the beginning of the 17th centuary, and, later, how artists from the principality of Liège including Bertholet Flemalle and Gérard de Lairesse came to Paris to perfect and learn French pictorial techniques, attracted by the enormous potential of the French market and the magnificence of the court of Louis XIII and his successor Louis XIV.

The Jacquemart-André Museum provides the perfect space to display these masterpieces of French Classicism, and the modest size of the collection is off-set by the intimate proportions and private atmosphere of the mansion-museum. A highly recommended exhibition for all those interested in Flemish Baroque painting and the French Classical school, the influences these movements exerted over one another and the evolution of new pictoral models and points of reference. Nicolas Sainte Fare Garnot and Jan de Maere's artful interpretation of the works of Rubens and Poussin creates a truly compelling pictorial narrative to 17th century art.

Julius Caesar / Théâtre Gérard Philipe

Julius Caesar

Théâtre Gérard Philipe

15-28 November 2010, 7.30pm Mon-Fri; 6pm Sat; 4pm Sun; no performance Tues.
6-20 euros
In English with French subtitles

***

Produced in partnership with the Centre Dramatique National/Orléans-Loiret-Centre, the American Repertory Theatre stage Shakespeare's great study of tyranny, revolution, and civil war, against a slick dreamscape of 1960s America.  A live jazz band, iconic 60s stage furniture and a set of epic, roman proportions combine to make this ambitious project a highly original, if not consistently convincing, reevaluation of the relationship between the political image and the political word.

French director Arthur Nauzyciel produced this play specifically for French audiences, the vast majority of whom, at least in part, rely on the French subtitles displayed above the stage.  It is therefore understandable that the pace at times seems slow and particular lines rather laboured, enunciated to an awkward degree for those familiar with Shakespeare's work.  The actors are successful in allowing for the greatest possible degree of first-hand understanding for non-native speakers, and thus convey well the cadence of the play's original language, whilst synchronising the words spoken on the stage with those appearing above it.  However, key relationships between characters suffer as lines are often delivered straight out to the audience, the actors staring into the middle distance rather than at each other.  Most notably the early dialogues between Cassius and Brutus ( Mark L. Montgomery and James Waterson), fail to create a sense of intimacy between the two conspirators.

The production draws its energy from the play's most iconic scenes; Caesar's assassination at the Capitol (Act 3, scene 1) and Mark Antony's oration beginning "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears".  As Caesar (Thomas Derrah) lies murdered before them, Nauzyciel has his players literally enact Brutus' instructions to "Stoop, Romans, stoop/And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood/Up to the elbows", creating a most disturbing tableau of sharply suited men dripping blood on to the Senate floor.  However, the strength of the production's references to 1960s America spring not from this implicit allusion to the Kennedy assassination, but rather from the staging of Antony's funeral speech, that great icon of rhetoric.  Stood beneath a huge overhead microphone, Daniel Pettrow masterfully plays with Shakespeare's slippery verse, flinging rhetorical questions out to the full auditorium before him and the empty one seen behind him; and is answered with the sound of the people's swelling rage, piped around the theatre.  Waterson prowls around the periphery of the stage, watching on as his rival's consummate skill as a politician and rhetorician turns from positive spin to implicit damnation as Pettrow systematically inverts the meaning of the very language of politics.  In the first act of the play, Brutus says of self-knowledge and of image "the eye sees not itself,/But by reflection, by some other things"; and it is Antony's rhetoric which ultimately dictates how Rome sees Brutus and through this how Rome sees itself, "You all did love him once, not without cause:/What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?"  That the audience looks on to a mirror image of their own empty seats during this scene, serves as a reminder of one's own susceptibility to the power of the spoken word, that in the world of high politics each countryman is a mere pawn to stylised manipulation.

The main problem with the production is Nauzyciel's preoccupation with Lucius, Brutus' trusted servant boy, who is allocated 24 short lines in Shakespeare's play but here is played by Jared Craig as a transcendental, death and dumb spectator of Roman political folly, artificially planted into several climactic scenes.  Nauzyciel uses the character of Lucius as an embodiment of innocence and the political naivety of Brutus; when the latter lays down to die, his servant mirrors his actions in an effective inversion of filmic representation of the parting of the soul and the body in death.  But his presence, dressed in an infantile superman t-shirt and gold sparkly cape, on the battlefields is ridiculous and undermines the gravitas of the conspirators' death scenes.  The character of Lucius is indeed intended to reveal the humanity of Brutus, for when the boy falls asleep over his instrument Shakespeare has Brutus say "It is no matter:/Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber"; it is unnecessary to use his character as an artificial avatar of such subtleties.

Overall, a very enjoyable, if flawed, production, with an outstanding performance from Daniel Pettrow.