Theatre Review: The Barber of Seville (Soulpepper)

the_barber_of_sevilleEverything about Soulpepper’s The Barber of Seville was a wonderful surprise, from the fact that it was a musical to the related fact that, well, it’s a comedy. In fact, this production has a lot more in common with the Looney Tunes version of my childhood than the stuffy opera I thought it to be, a realization that had me grinning like an idiot for most of the night. To be perfectly honest, my own ignorance of the plot and history of Barber was a huge boon to my enjoyment of the show, and if you are similarly in the dark, then stop reading this right now. Just go, buy yourself a ticket and enjoy. I’ll wait.

Done? Good.

Every so often, you see a show where the actors’ sheer enthusiasm for the material is infectious. The kind of production where flubbed lines, dropped props and Soulpepper veterans such as Oliver Dennis corpsing on stage somehow all enhance the experience rather than detract from it. To be fair, Dennis was acting against Gregory Prest (as Count Almaviva) in some truly fabulous drag, who wasted no opportunity in winking to the audience every time Dennis broke character (Don Bartolo) to choke back a laugh. Even the music, somehow marrying Rossini’s grand opera with an on-stage, costumed folk band, was in character; this show is all about absurd yet immensely satisfying combinations.

Courtney Ch’ng Lancaster brings a fantastic, cartoonish glee to her work as the fiery Rosina, a Rapunzel-like figure awaiting her opportunity for escape from the guardianship of and secret betrothal to Don Bartolo. Her signature song careens from the operatic (with surprising bursts of bluesy angst) to full-on contemporary (with surprising bursts of operatic power), much like her character overall. She’s as comfortable belting out some impromptu Carly Rae Jepsen as she is going from helpless to aggressive to swooning all in the same breath, easily the comic equal of her sly savior, Count Almaviva.

But the true accolades of the night go to Dan Chameroy’s Figaro, whose introduction alone is worth the price of admission. You all know the tune: “Figaro qua, Figaro là, Figaro su, Figaro giù“, et cetera. His is the kind of number that makes you want to use the word “virtuoso,” but you try not to because it sounds so pretentious. Chameroy’s voice is rich and powerful and fills the room, and he imbues every step and movement with purpose and intent. He sets the musical bar for the rest of the show. And in a bit clever writing surely attributable to 1700s madcap playwright Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (seriously, look the guy up), even as most of the play concerns itself with the forbidden love between Almaviva and Rosina, Figaro is always present, never more so than in the play’s beautiful final scene. He is, after all, the titular character; watch the set transform and morph with but a twist of Figaro’s smile.

My favourite moments all consisted of carefully layered satire and jokes: the manic performance of Figaro adding subtlety to every line and movement, the mercurial Rosina and her on-a-dime mood swings, the foppish Bartolo with his befuddled desperation, and the cavalier Almaviva throwing himself into every new scheme of Figaro’s with worried abandon. From a script perspective, I found less interest in the role of Don Basilio (Soulpepper stalwart William Webster, who nonetheless brings a credible gravitas to his part). Bartolo’s confidant, he’s presented as a savvier sort of confidence man than Figaro, and his crooning ode to slander is amusing and… well, amusing. He’s in league with Bartolo and therefore doomed to fail, but is he a smooth operator who got outfoxed or a fool who’s out of his league? Neither option really came across, which is a shame. Same goes for the ensemble piece praising love and money; is there more to the joke than the simple audacity of committing a whole showstopper to ironic juxtaposition?

Preview period began on May 9 and the performance I saw was on May 11; opening was May 15. If I’ve learned anything from Smash (and to say that I’ve learned something from that train wreck is to be more charitable than it deserves), it’s that shows change quite a lot during previews. Fewer lines get flubbed; props don’t get dropped. Corpsing happens less and less. Little performance and writing tweaks get made and the show improves. It could very well be that my nitpicks above don’t even exist anymore.

The Soulpepper team (and have I really gotten to the end without praising director Leah Cherniak?) does its frenetic source material great justice, and it makes me glad that society no longer qualifies men like Figaro to be a barber, doctor and dentist all in one. Or anyone, for that matter.

4.5 out of 5 shave-and-haircut combos (plus 2 bits for the tip jar).



The Evolution of Condo Design

It’s interesting to see how cities evolve, what elements they retain over time and which ones they erase. Torontonians in particular feel they’re special in having razed many historical structures in favor of bland modernity and in having a dozen or more failed plans for every one that sees fruition.

And yet, that’s got to be just about every city everywhere. Some years back on a trip to Seattle, tour guides cheerfully mentioned their city’s history as pretty much one bad idea after another, years of political wrangling for every inch of progress made… sound familiar, Toronto? Company may not make us any less pathetic, but it does mitigate our civic misery.

So, condominiums.

Developers are quick to point out the various reasons why condos are they way they are. Local by-laws are partially to blame; as much as the city professes to desire mid-rise buildings, the zoning rules actually make it much easier to build tall ones. Developers swear that they build what the market wants and will bear. The people want floor-to-ceiling windows to maximize natural light, so they get glass boxes in the sky.

And yet there is variation. The plain glass box has given way to slightly different glass boxes. Hardly a massive leap in architecture, but still, an indication that nothing is stagnant. For a great example, look at the Distillery District, where the Pure Spirits development went up in the early 2000s:

pure_spiritThe tower is your basic glass box; at the time, the promotional literature described the podium as paying homage to the historic district, while the use of glass on the tower was a deliberate attempt make it transparent and unobtrusive. The point of the Distillery District is the history in its bricks, not the towers above. Let’s not kid ourselves though; glass box fever was all over Toronto at that point and it’s not like the developer was about to try and build anything else.

The two towers going up on the Distillery’s east end are also made of glass, but the design now includes glass fritting and articulated balconies that add some visual punch:

gooderhamStill glass? Yes. Arguably dull? Less so. But it is a new take on the box. Design evolves.

One aspect of condo design getting a lot of attention these days is how they “meet the street.” Will it have a deadening effect, built as close to the edge of the sidewalk as possible? Will there be stores or walk-up townhouses, or some visual appeal? Will it draw in pedestrian traffic? Many critics correctly point out the fact that developers will always seek out the most staid, boring and reliable retail tenants, such as banks and dental offices.

My main criticism is that no condo retail space offers the kind of personality that more interesting stores would want to occupy anyway.

Let’s talk streetscapes.

kensingtonJane Jacobs was a big fan of old buildings. They are flexible, varied spaces, inclined to host any number of enterprises over their lifetime. They also make for a street that is, well, interesting. The signs are different heights and colours. Some storefronts protrude into the sidewalk, others recede. Some spaces have high ceilings, others are cramped. Every city block offers a different mix.

movadaThat’s where I live, and I’ll be the first to say that the retail at the bottom is boring as all get out, and I’m more than prepared to say that the reason is uniformity. The signage is the same colour and the same height. The doorways are all the same design. The entrances are all at the same depth. The only personalization permitted is on the interior of each space.

berwickWhy can’t the same go for townhouse developments? The above rendering is for a development going up near me, and while I personally feel that these townhomes actually look quite pleasant, I wonder if there’s a specific need for them to be so uniform. Obviously it saves on construction and design cost, but at the same time, imagine the premium a developer could charge for unique units, each with its own personality built in. Not unlike boutique hotels with each room assembled by a different designer, a single development could lend vitality and value to an entire block.

My hope and prediction is that the next evolution of condominium design will be to break up the street-level engagement with pedestrians. Treat the lower portion of each building as a block plan, with varied height and depth to add some visual punch. This would certainly make for an uneven floor inside the building, but that could easily be worked into an asset. A multi-level party room perhaps. This is not to say that every condo has to do this (mandated differentiation can be as tacky and overdone as anything else), but it would be nice if a few did. Variety is the spice of life, after all.

There’s a world of possibility out there, and design can welcome it with open arms or send it running for the hills. Condos, it’s time to think about your next leap forward.