Hooray for you, Mari Sasano.

I had a chance to see this concert at the last minute ’cause my friend Jason’s roommate got sick. Well, I’m sick too, but I’m not gonna stand up a date with Philip Glass!

When I first heard about the show, it seemed so odd.. THE Philip Glass? Playing piano at a church? In Edmonton? But it turned out well. Except for the fact that you could visibly see everyone there getting fidgety and uncomfortable as the night wore on. Those pews are uncomfortable, and I suspect the two standing O’s that he got were as much the result of numb bums as his virtuosity.

Totally worth it, though. He was awesome (deceptively simple, his compositions are), and when I could hear him (he was very soft-spoken), he was pretty funny too. Who’d've thought?

Over the years, I had struck up a friendship with the publicist from the Edmonton Art Gallery, now the Art Gallery of Alberta. She’s since left, but she asked me to participate in a “celebrity” art-making kind of thing for the Advertising Club.

The food, as usual, was tasty. There is nothing better than rich, one-bite reception goodies: bacon-wrapped scallops, bacon-wrapped asparagus, cheese-filled pastries, meatballs, satay, stuffed mushrooms. They had a Shirley Temple fountain. Heaven!

So anyhow, they made a bunch of us (some ad guys, Tony Luppino from the gallery, Jennifer Martin and Stacey Brotzel from CityTV, some radio dude, Scott McKeen, Nick Lees and me from the Journal. Our task was to decorate our own personal Michelangelo’s David or a Venus de Milo. I chose a David. I wish I brought my camera, but apparently they are going to be on display at the ACE Awards (check www.adclubedm.com).

Sorry about that. I took my small purse. Anyhow, I have been punished by a terrible cold.

Who knew John Ullyatt had such delicate ankles?

Never mind the show-offy one-man, dozens of characters, two-language show thing. It’s amazing, but as Jeff Page said in an interview the other day (for True West), in Edmonton we’re fully familiar with the one-man show deal. The first good Fringe show I ever saw was Jeff Page’s one-man show, in fact. But any time anyone does a good job of it, it’s pretty amazing. But yes, we have seen something like this before.

So what you want to know is how Bretta Gereke put a wall with a door in it at the back of the set, and what looks like wallpaper is actually lace, so when the stage is backlit you can see, floor to ceiling, furniture and dresses and chandeliers suspended by wires. Lovely.

And the story itself is what brought in a 3/4 full house on a Wednesday night at the end of its run. It’s almost a documentary of Doug Wright’s research of his subject, complete with “real” recordings of his first visit with Charlotte von Malhlsdorf. Some of it may be speculative wish-fulfilment to explain away her involvment with the Stasi, but who knows? Truth in art is never certain. It’s the 21st century, and we’re allowed to talk about “emotional truths.”

Clever Doug Wright, however, made it clear by making it into a play. And as Charlotte says, they come to see the transvestite, but soon enough they become interested in the furniture, ja?

What a strange little film.

It’s meant to be a dark comedy– a regular guy named Danny (Greg Kinnear) goes to Mexico for a make-it-or-break-it deal for his consulting business or whatever it is, it’s not clear what it is that he does. He meets this zany character Julian Noble (Pierce Brosnan), a boozing, womanizing hit man who attracts and repulses him, until attraction wins over and suddenly they are faking an assasination during a bullfight. Bullfight=”honourable” death=masculinity, right?

Then, it’s six months later. Julian shows up at Danny’s home. More fish-out-of-water buddy stuff ensues.

And in weird little hints, we see that their lives have become linked. Did they DO IT? Maybe. Or at least metaphorically. There’s that attraction, see? A friend-crush. Dangerous guy just wants great wife, regular guy wants adventure and a jaunty moustache. And boy, is Brosnan weird in this one. It’s like…Clinton Carew. Maybe it’s that moustache again.

In any case, is it good? Nearly. But it’s pretty funny.

The big event arrived! I have been waiting a whole year to see the Opera’s production of Robert LePage’s two short works. I’m gonna go back and see some of his films now, just to compare this cinematic theatre stuff to his actual movies (shamefully, I have only seen La Face Cachee de la Lune).

The stage was literally framed in a copper-y mosiac rectangle which held a scrim. Projections? Yes. Liberally. Guy Maddin once said that the best props you can have are shadows, and this was aptly demonstrated here. Set changes took place at a blink of an eye, while a singer was isolated in a spotlight, or in very brief blackouts. It was seamless, like film editintg.

Bluebeard opened with a suspended miniature of the castle, then we saw the stage for the first time: it’s wedge-shaped and angled steeply, seven doors on one side to hide Bluebeard’s seven secrets, a wall on the other side, and a little door at the top. A pool was at the front of the stage, which we couldn’t see from our seats but maybe from the balcony you could. In any case, the water was used to reflect light.

Very beautiful, of course. But Bluebeard wasn’t really the opera for it, and the opening of doors got a little repetitive. “Oh, another door? Lemme guess. Something horrible, covered with blood?” It was too literal (when she asked to open a door, she opened a door), predictable and flat. Part of the problem was the story itself, which is better in the telling, as a warning to women to heed the little warning signs that a man gives. For example, you should probably dump a guy who loves the beauty of an open wound a little too much. And the doors symbolize his reticence to share his thoughts and feelings, perhaps? Literal skeletons in his closet. In any case, it reminded me a lot of a guy I used to date. Except in that case, it was a sock drawer. A funny story! Ask me sometime!

But the Schoenberg piece really worked it, using the high wall on the other side of the stage as another “floor”, to have heads and limbs emerge, to have the creepy psychiatrist perch on top of it. Erwartung is about a female mental patient recalling the events that got her certified, and they inhabited her madness well. And how did they get that guy to turn a complete somersault in a chair? Is that what I really saw?

And yes, there was that “brief nudity” as promised. Two women walked out when the naked man appeared, rolling slowly down the stage. Quite frankly, I don’t know what the problem was. There were a lot of shadows (again, such excellent use of light!) and he wasn’t even all that big. Nice bum, though.

In any case, judging from the audience (e-ver-y-one was there), this was more of a theatre event than an opera. Maybe this will give them the younger audience they so desperately want. Personally, I didn’t know I liked the opera until I accepted some tickets on a whim two years ago, and now I’d be willing to buy a subscription if I had to. Just goes to show, you should see everything! You gotta break out of the loud rock show/bar thing eventually. Kids, you do grow ever stupider once you leave school! Give your brain something to do once in a while.

Oh, and the music was good too.

Hooray to Trevor Anderson and Bryce Kulak,wherever they are, for premiering their children’s musical last night. It is a fine show! In it, a viking appears in a forest where three friends, a tree stump, a slug, and a singer/songwriter have been living peacefully for thousands of years. So the viking goes and pushes everyone around and takes things and sends them back to Niceland and though the rest of them kind of hate him, they don’t have the backbone to do anything about it. The kids’ll love it.

I have to say that my assessment is somewhat biased, seeing as I acted as invertebrate consultant during parts of the writing of it, nevertheless it is what Mr. Anderson did with such information that contributes to its success. Gentle, funny, and excellent songs.

And Jesse Gervais, as the eponymous character–boy, did they teach him a few Andersonesque mannerisms! Autobiography much, Trev? Am I Slug?

There are two shows today, at 2 and 7. But if you can figure out which schools they’re touring, I’m sure you can try and sneak in.