War memorial music
By Nicola Langille
Issue date: 11/17/05 Section: Arts and Culture
What the Talisker Players can boast in their one-time performance of Rumours of Peace is an intensely emotional experience. Each piece was presented by a combination of one actor, a string quartet, a pianist, a soprano, a baritone, and oboe, English horn, clarinet, trumpet, and percussion players. While abstract in their bizarre sounds, common ground can be found in their whirlwind effect, ranging from the intensity before a storm to the climax and swirling back down through passion into the calm.
The songs sang of despair. The representations of these tragedies, almost unimaginable to the audience, made the musicians's work that much harder, and the challenge was incontestably met. The expressions on the face of the soprano, Teri Dunn, and the nostalgic countenance of the reader, Ross Manson, were of particular note. Yet, each performer had a transformation over the course of the evening, a journey. A look of humbleness mingled with satisfaction graced them during the curtain call, making the audience acutely aware of the concentration and difficulties each musician endured in portraying stories of war and hardship so foreign to all contemporary understanding.
The political messages behind the performance of Rumours of Peace were undeniable, and its performance was consciously timed close to Remembrance Day. In between each song were readings from essays by Lawrence Weschler lucidly performed by Ross Manson. Each song was a story as well, all based on texts that did not originate with a song companion. The world premiere of Stephanie Moore's version of John McCrae's In Flanders Fields was an interesting interpretation, reeking of chaos mixed with hope. Yet, perhaps ironically, the most beautiful and relatable song was not one that told a story. This was Osvaldo Golijov's Tenebrae, which consisted solely of letters of the Hebrew alphabet repeated over and over. The song had a slightly less hectic approach, with more direction than the others.
The audience, attentive and rigidly alert in the pews of the Trinity St. Paul's Church, was left unaware as to how to react; clapping seemed all too awkward. To those unwilling to delve into an emotional world so foreign to all present, the spectacle may have edged on ridiculous. To those who forced the uncomfortable world of suffering into their thoughts, that to which they bore witness was a beautiful retelling of pains we all hope to never endure.
The songs sang of despair. The representations of these tragedies, almost unimaginable to the audience, made the musicians's work that much harder, and the challenge was incontestably met. The expressions on the face of the soprano, Teri Dunn, and the nostalgic countenance of the reader, Ross Manson, were of particular note. Yet, each performer had a transformation over the course of the evening, a journey. A look of humbleness mingled with satisfaction graced them during the curtain call, making the audience acutely aware of the concentration and difficulties each musician endured in portraying stories of war and hardship so foreign to all contemporary understanding.
The political messages behind the performance of Rumours of Peace were undeniable, and its performance was consciously timed close to Remembrance Day. In between each song were readings from essays by Lawrence Weschler lucidly performed by Ross Manson. Each song was a story as well, all based on texts that did not originate with a song companion. The world premiere of Stephanie Moore's version of John McCrae's In Flanders Fields was an interesting interpretation, reeking of chaos mixed with hope. Yet, perhaps ironically, the most beautiful and relatable song was not one that told a story. This was Osvaldo Golijov's Tenebrae, which consisted solely of letters of the Hebrew alphabet repeated over and over. The song had a slightly less hectic approach, with more direction than the others.
The audience, attentive and rigidly alert in the pews of the Trinity St. Paul's Church, was left unaware as to how to react; clapping seemed all too awkward. To those unwilling to delve into an emotional world so foreign to all present, the spectacle may have edged on ridiculous. To those who forced the uncomfortable world of suffering into their thoughts, that to which they bore witness was a beautiful retelling of pains we all hope to never endure.
