HADRIAN

HADRIAN by RUFUS WAINWRIGHT (composer) and DANIEL MACIVOR (librettist) at the CANADIAN OPERA COMPANY with PETER HINTON director and JOHANNES DEBUS conductor (Oct 13-27, 2018)

Whether you're a Rufus fan or you simply love good music, then go to see Hadrian. The music is gorgeous and the story compelling. But Wainwright the composer is no Puccini/Lloyd-Webber wannabe. Nor is he the Rufus Wainwright we know from his pop persona.

Wainwright is not breaking any musical barriers here, except possibly his own. You won't hear him pushing the limits of twelve-tone music or trying to out-cage John Cage. You will catch traces of Benjamin Britten and the orchestral colours of Bela Bartok, with a moment or two of Richard Strauss, but the music is distinctive rather than derivative.

The story is a cross between Bellini's Norma, the Druidic priestess who sacrifices herself for war, and Orfeo's search for his lover Eurydice in the Underworld. Hadrian, a Roman general, is in mourning for his young lover, Antinous, while neglecting his country's political affairs. Two spectres, Plotina, who helped him gain the throne in real life, and Trajan, the former emperor whose throne he inherited, make a bargain: sign a decree declaring war against the Jews and Nazarenes in exchange for being allowed to relive two nights with Antinous.

Act one nicely sets up the crisis in the senate and the resulting bargain between Hadrian and the shades. There is virtually no humour in the opera, so Karita Mattila's coquetry as Plotina is a welcome relief when she arrives. Act two sets a glacial pace as Hadrian's wife, Sabina, declares her neglect by her husband. Meanwhile, we await Antinous's arrival, which takes a tad longer than it should. This is offset by the inventive set, however, whose changing visuals are powerful. (More of this would not be unwelcome without risking turning it into a video game.)

Act three begins with a stunning sex scene between Hadrian and Antinous, as beautiful and tasteful as anything seen on stage, while the instrumental music soars and swells. In fact, the entire act is perfection, as we see the love between the two men re-enacted and the trickery that results in Antinous's death.

The cast is well chosen, with notable performances by all the leads (Thomas Hampson as Hadrian, Isaiah Bell as Antinous, and whose mellifluous tones are memorable, and David Leigh as Turbo, the Judas figure who plots Antinous's death.) Particularly outstanding are the two women, Karita Mattila as Plotina and Ambur Braid as Sabina. It's also great to see tenor Ben Heppner back on stage again.

The fourth act gave me a bit of pause, especially after the perfect poise of the preceding act. The pace again was glacial and the music at its most romantic, almost too much so given the tone of the earlier parts. At times it felt as though we were approaching the dénouement of Tristan and Isolde, and the opera's length was clearly verging on Wagnerian proportions. I also took exception to the heavy-handed comment on Middle-Eastern politics at one point and the sticky, quasi-religiosity in the comparison of Antinous with Christ. A sacrifice does not always a saviour make.

That said, Hadrian is a highly welcome addition to the operatic repertoire and a considerable success for Wainwright, who never seems to stop exploring new worlds of sound. A hearty Bravo! to that.

Jeffrey Round is an award-winning author, filmmaker and song writer. His latest book is The God Game (Dundurn Press.)

THE CHILDREN AT CANADIAN STAGE

THE CHILDREN at CANADIAN STAGE starring GEORDIE JOHNSON, LAURIE PATON and FIONA REID directed by EDA HOLMES, set and costumes by EO SHARP

There is a very contemporary tale of caution and fear on at Canadian Stage until October 21/18. (To be reprised at the Centaur Theatre in Montreal from Nov 6-25/18.)

Lucy Kirkwood's The Children unfolds quietly, revealing hints of a recent nuclear catastrophe that is barely spoken of and then only in reticent terms, like news that is so devastating adults talk of it quietly amongst themselves not to upset the children.

Hazel, a retired scientist, is entertaining Rose, a colleague she hasn't seen in thirty-eight years, and who just happened to drop by. Or perhaps not. They catch up on old news until it becomes clear Rose is on her way to the accident site to help with cleanup operations.

In the midst of their conversation, Hazel's husband, Robin, returns from feeding the cows, which as it turns out are outside the safe zone. For here, everything occurs either inside or outside the safe zone, though what is really and truly safe is not entirely clear, or possibly is only a matter of the characters' willingness to suspend their belief in the immediacy of the danger.

The writing is taut and confident, the drama's reveals are subtle and quietly alarming, allowing us to absorb its true depth in bits and pieces, as though we aren't capable of confronting it all at once. The set itself contributes to the unease, a dowdy country cottage set at off-angles to the audience and surrounded by an eerie green moat in an atmosphere of poison gas.

It's a delight to see three of Canada's most accomplished actors enjoying their roles. Johnson, Paton and Reid take the stage like a three-way tennis match, the ball bouncing from one to another at a mesmerizing pace. Lines come at breakneck speed throughout, but these actors can handle it and it gives the piece a propulsion that shows just how tightly written the work is overall.

Occasionally, one may want a bit of space between the lines in order to feel the weight of things revealed or hurled by one character at another. But here it's, "No emotion, please, we're British." However, as Canadians we'd like a little more breathing room, please and thanks, to digest, feel and situate ourselves inside the drama rather than remain outsiders looking in.

As pieces of the puzzle fall in place, we see both the contempt and love the characters have for one another, followed by the realization that there is far more here than meets the eye. For of course Rose has not just dropped by and, for a very real reason, has had both Hazel and Robin in her mind for some time. For that reason, she has come to pose a profound question. Not "What would you do for your country?", as was hammered into the heads of every British citizen over the course of two world wars, but something more immediate: "What would you give for an as yet unrealized future and the children who will grow up to inherit it?"

Both Rose and Robin find it relatively easy to make up their minds, while Hazel resists to the end. But beyond the fear and the caution, this is a play about personal responsibility and commitment. For ultimately, we all sit in Hazel's seat trying to decide.