Meet a non-denominational exorcist who works out of a guest house in Van Nuys ... 5 Every Week gets you off the couch and on the streets ... climate change and creatures in the Mojave ... Brains On tells us how the salamander grows back limbs, and home come we can't?
Remembering a lifetime of Star Wars from KPCC's Obi-Wan Kenobi
Off-Ramp commentator Dale Hoppert sat on Hollywood Boulevard for a week to be first in line for the first-ever screening of the first Star Wars trilogy in 1985. Now he's ready for "Star Wars: The Force Awakens," opening Dec. 17 at a theater near you.
Gather close now, younglings, for here is wisdom. Soon you will join a war among the stars that has been raging for generations, a war of dark against light, and many of you have never known a galaxy without it. But some few of us who remain and have survived. We recall how it all began: It was a long time ago, in a decade now far away... the 1970s. Before the dark time that was the prequel trilogy... even before "Empire."
Don't worry, I'm not going to keep that up the whole time. It's just, you see, I've finally figured out my place in the Star Wars universe. I'm 50 and have been a Star Wars fan since I was 12. I now finally know which of those wonderful characters is me and is the perfect metaphor for my journey through the Star Wars universe, and it's hard not to adopt the appropriate tone and cadence. Just count yourselves lucky I'm not talking like Yoda.
You see, after almost 40 years, I've finally figured out: I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Let me explain. Obi-Wan Kenobi is the old Jedi Knight played in the '70s and the '80s by the late Sir Alec Guinness. He's the one in the first movie who recognized what was going on and sent Luke off on his quest. In the prequel films, we see a young Obi-Wan played by Ewan McGregor having all the adventures he'll later use as stories to inspire young Luke Skywalker.
You're probably not going to see Obi-Wan in "The Force Awakens" because, well, he's dead. When the story — which began when I was 12 and had a six-year flashback starting when I was 35 — finally resumes, Obi-Wan will have been dead for a movie-and-a-half. Out of the game, one with the Force.
When I was very young, I had a remarkable adventure. I saw a movie unlike anything that had ever been seen before, and I saw it at 12, which was the perfect age. Suddenly the strange vistas and wild science-fiction adventures I'd spent my youth reading about were splashed on the big screen before my eyes. I was drawn readily and completely into it all.
It was called "Star Wars" and it was the only thing in the whole universe back then that was. It played for a solid year and longer in the theaters, and it was the only movie I've ever seen that had its own special first birthday poster. That first holiday season in 1977, there were no toys. We had the movie and we had our imaginations. Uphill both ways in the snow. Our cap guns became blasters and we all taped paper tubes to flashlights. And I'll tell you what: we Star Warsed just fine, we Star Warsed it up good. Dark side, light side, we fought the fight.
Then came the other two original films — "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi" — and all the toys and games and bed sheets and clothing lines. Then the prequel trilogy and all the CGI and green-screen and finding out that the scariest villain of all time used to be a whiny little brat who was friends with Goofy.
Like Obi-Wan Kenobi had done before me a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I grew up, grew older and withdrew from the battle more and more, waiting for my moment to come around again. Heck, I even moved out into the desert like he did.
Now, on the cusp of the release of this new Star Wars movie by J.J. Abrams, I can feel the Force Awakening in me. Look! There's the Millennium Falcon! I haven't seen her in action since I was a kid! Han Solo is looking a bit weathered, but he's still a scoundrel!
And Leia is a princess no more; she's a general now! Hey, there are my old robot pals! And that new robot who looks like a soccer ball is so cute!
Oooh! There's a new bad guy in a dark helmet. Lightsabers look fiercer than ever and I hear the First Order has a weapon that will make the Empire's old Death Stars look like firecrackers. Even Luke Skywalker himself is... well... he's around here somewhere. This is gonna be great.
And me? I hung up my lightsaber a long time ago, but today I feel like maybe I could get back into the wars. Like I've got one more good fight in me. An elegant weapon, from a more civilized age.
Disney has announced plans upon plans for the future of the Star Wars universe, and it is suddenly becoming clear to me — as it must have to Obi-Wan at some point as he followed Luke onto the Death Star — that I probably won't live to see the end of this story.
But like Obi-Wan Kenobi, I'm OK with that. I played my part in the wars and when I became old and wise, I passed on my memories of the time before. A new generation has been inspired — not by me directly, but stick with the metaphor just a moment longer. And whether I stand or fall, the Star Wars will go on long after I've become one with the Force.
It's a big galaxy, younglings. So many battles to fight. Off you go! I'll keep up with you as long as I can.
What Vincent Price might have made of Islamophobia
We held an event Tuesday night in Culver City featuring Victoria Price talking about her parents' (Vincent and Mary Price) cookbook, a best-seller published 50 years ago.
That got me looking up other Vincent Price work - besides the horror movies we know and love - and I found a number of episodes of "The Saint," the radio production in which he starred, long before Roger Moore played the "Robin Hood of Modern Crime" on TV.
At the end of the episode "Monkey Business," Price, playing himself, makes this appeal to the better angels of our nature.
Ladies and gentlemen, as responsible parents you never think of allowing your children to play with poison. And as responsible Americans it's your duty to protect them from the dangers of the poison we call prejudice.
Here in America, racial and religious hated does exist, sustained by the political adventurers and plain crackpots who are willing to scrap the Democratic way of life to attain their own ends. Prejudice in America is centered in their addled philosophy, but unless we guard ourselves and our families it can find its way into our own lives. Then the poison will do its work, undermining America's unity, sabotaging our prestige abroad, and wrecking our ideal of individual freedom.
In your family life you can effectively carry on a campaign against prejudice. Our youngsters grow up with a pride in their country; teach them that part of that pride is our tradition of accepting or rejecting people on their individual worth, not on the basis of race or religion or color.
Remember, freedom and prejudice can't exist side by side. If you choose freedom, fight prejudice.
Vincent Price said this in ... 1950.
Click on the audio player to hear the audio of this speech, from the end of "The Saint."
Slideshow: Krampus brings the dark side of Christmas to LA
When we think of Christmas, we tend to veer towards the jolly traditions: decorating the tree or giving gifts. Maybe even caroling.
But what about the old tradition of dressing up as a furry winter demon named Krampus and roaming the streets?
Al Ridenour is the author of the forthcoming book “The Krampus and the Old Dark Christmas” (Feral House). He runs Krampus Los Angeles along with his partner, Al Guerrero. For the past few years, Ridenour and Guerrero have put on a series of Krampus-themed events, including costumed Krampus runs and a Krampus play happening this Sunday in Pasadena.
Krampus is very much in the zeitgeist lately. Universal Pictures’ new film “Krampus” is doing well at the box office and there are even Krampus holiday sweaters.
But who is the real Krampus? Where did it come from? What does it look like? And what does Krampus have to do with pagan traditions of long ago?
Off-Ramp contributor Robert Garrova spoke with Krampus L.A.’s Al Ridenour to learn more about this Christmas boogeyman.
What does Krampus look like?
For a lot of people, the traditional Krampus is the Krampus you see on the Krampus postcards that circulated a little before WWI and past that in different forms — up until the 1960s even. And that is a devil with horns; he has a long tongue; he has a human devilish face; and he has a fur covered body; and the lower half of his body is a goat body. That’s the graphic that was used for that postcard. But it’s very different from the costumes you’ll find in Europe. Those vary a lot regionally [and] tend to look a little less dapper... The other ones look really bestial. Basically, it’s the same idea, a furry body with horns. But the masks can be very jagged and expressionistic. And it’s real animal hides they use too, so they’re thick, they get matted and wet in the snow... You can smell the animal that used to own the hide as they walk around. So they’re very rough.
What’s the Krampus origin story?
The origin is actually kind of unknown, but his mission — in fact his defining feature — is he’s a punisher of bad children. He accompanies St. Nicholas on St. Nicholas day, or actually more often on the eve of St. Nicholas day (December 5). And whereas St. Nicholas gives gifts to the good kids, he delivers the punishment for the bad kids. So he’s usually armed with switches or he has a bag to carry off children.
What are Krampus’ pagan roots?
It pretty directly flows out of the tradition in Alpine mythology; it has to do with a character called Frau Perchta or Lady Perchta who was a sort of ambivalent goddess figure who was quickly demonized by the church. And so she became sort of a queen of the witches. And this is going way back to the 1100s. And then she would lead an entourage on these nocturnal flights and rambles. And the entourage she followed, the demons or beasties were known as perchten. And there are still perchten runs as there are Krampus runs in Germany and Austria... in costumes that, to Americans, would look identical to Krampus costumes.
Is Krampus a darker side of Christmas that we’ve lost in the U.S.?
Oh absolutely. And that dark side... it’s still in the songs. I think Americans know it from “A Christmas Carol,” but that’s our only exposure. And even in the U.K., there’s still a tradition of Christmas ghost stories. So this time of year — the winter, the early part of the year — it was equivalent to Halloween. It was a time that spirits wandered, witches were afoot, it was actually even a time for werewolf transformations. So the Christmas that used to be known is not what we celebrate now.
Would you like to see some of those darker traditions come back?
Oh absolutely that’s our sinister agenda. It’s so funny because I hear so many people from alternative circles hating Christmas... And yet, they want to celebrate one way or another. They want the tradition. So I always tell them, “You don’t hate Christmas, you just don’t like how it’s celebrated.” And Christmas has changed so much over the years. Even since the 18, 1700s here, it’s changed a lot. It used to be an unruly street celebration more for adults. And then it moved indoors with the emphasis more on the family and gift-giving. But it used to be very rowdy... And I think that the Krampus is just a nice icon for all the parents that grew up in the punk rock era and they want to have a holiday for their kids but they feel weird about having their parents' holiday... It’s a certain way to play with the holiday and not give it up.
5 Every Week: Mike Kelley's video art, Seinfeld's apartment, a dublab 'Dream House' and more!
Behold: five great things you should do in Southern California this week, from art to food to music to an adventure we’ll call the Wild Card from the makers of the 5 Every Day app. Get this as a new podcast in iTunes. If you want five hand-picked things to do in Los Angeles every day, download the free 5 Every Day from the App Store.
ART: Mike Kelley
Mike Kelley may have entered the world in the Midwest, but he was truly a child of Los Angeles.
One of our city’s great contributions to the cultural canon, the late artist-slash-provocateur made pieces in just about every conceivable medium during his 35-year career:
Drawings, music, sculpture, performance — no form was safe from Kelley’s skewed, post-punk sensibility.
This Monday, REDCAT theater behind Disney Hall irises in on one particularly rich corner of Kelley’s work with a screening of his innovative, single-channel video pieces. It’s a mixed bunch of movies spanning the 80s through the aughts, full of modernism, melodrama, and at least one man dressed up like Superman reciting Sylvia Plath.
CITY: Upper Hastings Ranch
https://www.instagram.com/p/wVcYWPvKy4/
You want wonder? We've got your wonder right here.
It comes in brilliant, 10-watt clusters — firefly-sized godlights wrapped and draped and stapled to everything for as far as the eye can see.
If you need your cockles warmed at this stage in the Christmas game, you gotta head up to L.A.'s own North Pole... More like Northeast Pole, where time-honored Christmas displays have been jockeying for bragging rights for decades. There are a couple of bright-blazing stretches up in Altadena: the mile long stretch of cedar trees on Christmas Tree Lane, the mansion of ice cream magnate George Balian.
But for sheer glut, you can't beat Upper Hastings Ranch in Pasadena. Every block of ranch-style houses conspires thematically, so you get a small army of tacky Santas for one stretch, then perhaps a rookery of penguin, then candy stripes, and so on.
If the tremendous expenditure of time and utilities doesn't get you, know that if nothing else, everyone looks their best bathed in Christmas lights.
They flip the switch this Saturday.
FOOD: Viking Pizza
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Swedish pizza is a thing. Swedish people apparently love to put everything on pizza — curry, kebab meat, raisins, you name it. Their extravagant misinterpretation of pizza is so much a thing, in fact, that it’s starting to be exported. Believe it or not, there are at least three Swedish Pizza places in Los Angeles.
REDS, in Santa Monica, was allegedly the first. If you want a thin-crust pizza piled with filet mignon, onions, and Bearnaise sauce, this is the spot. There’s also Viking Pizza & Kabob, in Glendale: a more cheap and cheerful joint serving pies layered with Doner Kebab meat, cucumber, feta, and swedish peppers. If this sounds good to you, that’s because it is.
MUSIC: Tonalism
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The avant-garde composer LaMonte Young spent his career in the abstract pursuit of "getting inside" of sound.
It led him to create zen-like koans and eternal tones in stretched-out time signatures, experiments that culminated in the "Dream House," a light and sound installation in New York where musicians might live and create music twenty-four hours a day.
Beginning the night of Saturday December 12, the tireless imagineers at dublab radio and 356 Mission present Tonalism: 12 hours of immersive music piped through a 6-point surround sound system, in loving homage.
With sets from members of Animal Collective, Akron Family, Gang Gang Dance, and Black Dice, all are welcome to swing by and live the Dream House, any time between 6pm on Saturday and 6am Sunday.
Just be sure to bring a pillow.
WILDCARD: Seinfeld: The Apartment
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This Wednesday, West Hollywood welcomes "Seinfeld: The Apartment" — an uncannily precise replica of the Seinfeld set that’s free and open to the public through next Sunday.
Hulu first built this thing in New York over the Summer, and it kind of blew up — thousands of people showed up for the chance to check out the place, plus a modest gallery of props, scripts and rare memorabilia from the show. It was a big enough success that they brought it out to L.A., just in time for Festivus.
Modern-day, non-denominational exorcist Rachel Stavis helps civilians, stars, studio heads
Standing in the backyard of a nice bungalow in Van Nuys, I’m chatting with Rachel Stavis, published horror novelist, the woman who created "Lara Croft – Tomb Raider’s" backstory, and professional exorcist.
She’s laying out the ground rules for the procedure to come.
“No shoes , no metal at all so no jewelry," she says. "And electronics are at your discretion. We’ve had a few break.”
Rachel leads me into the guest-house, designed, she says, to create a “one-way vortex” so the demons she removes from people can go and never come back. And then she uses a word that makes me think she can also read my mind.
"As crazy as it sounds," she warns, "Everything you hear today is gonna sound insane.”
Maybe I should put this out there right now, I’m a rationalist. I honestly don’t believe any of this is real – which is why it was so nice of Rachel to let me sit in on an exorcism anyway.
“I don’t feel like my job is to prove it to anyone," she says. "[I] feel like people come to this from a skeptical point of view - not just about this but about life, sometimes, because they're afraid.”
Rachel says she could always see demons and entities, even as a child.
“I never meant it to be a business," she says. "I’ve been a writer most of my life and I do pretty well. I think it just sort of happened because once I could do it, people started coming, and people shared with other people. It’s actually so many people now I have waiting lists.”
The guest house is lit with five hanging lanterns and decorated with a variety of religious iconography, which Rachel says is really just to put clients at ease.
“I’ve never seen the devil," she tells me. "I don’t think Christ compels demons out of the body because some demons probably aren’t Christian."
The client this afternoon is actress Kristina Klebe. You may know her from the 2007 remake of Halloween. A victim of evil forces in that film, today Klebe is trying to reverse that trend in her own life.
Klebe is told to lay down on a covered mattress and close her eyes. There’s an incantation Rachel gives to summon various masters, teachers, and spirit guides to help her.
“I ask you to protect the body," she says, "but not the entities that do not belong.”
Herbs are lit on fire, giving the air an oily, gift shop kind-of feel. Kneeling beside her client, Rachel uses her hands to — as she describes it — pull entities out of Klebe’s body, almost like weeding a garden. There are also moments when she inhales the presence and blows it away.
As the exorcism continues, Klebe’s breathing becomes more intense. It’s clear she is going through some kind of emotional process. Her hands clench and unclench as she starts to cry.
Intense as it is, there’s no Hollywood stuff happening, no one throws up, although Rachel says that has happened in the past. The lights don’t flicker, nothing falls off the walls, although when the wind gently blew the door shut earlier, Rachel kind-of claimed that as one for her side.
At one point, an ornate dagger is carefully pressed to Klebe’s feet then used to cut ethereal ties over the body. A Tibetan gong signals the end.
The whole ceremony takes about an hour, and I’m struck by how intimate it is. It was like being a fly on the wall for a deeply, deeply personal therapy session – much of which I’ve chosen to leave out.
The end result, according to Klebe, is great.
“I bet you twenty years of therapy wouldn't have release that much abandonment, fear, anger," she said. "The closure felt immediate, it felt like a weight on my back was gone.”
All the major religious groups have their own forms of exorcism. Although the Catholic Church recently updated their rules for the procedure. They now take great pains to rule out mental illness in people who say they are possessed.
James Healy is a clinical psychologist who directs a community health center. In an earlier interview, he told me blaming patients' problems on possession could serve to reinforce a person’s delusions. But under the right circumstances, if the patient thinks it works, it just might.
“The placebo effect is another way of saying something is going on in the way people are thinking about their behavior, their problem," Healy said. "That's great if you can find a way to get people to think differently about their problems [...] you’re doing therapy at that point. For me, yes, if they're suffering less, then I’m pretty happy with whatever gets them there.”
“I guess you could look at it that way," Rachel says when I put that suggestion to her. "But whether you believe in it or not, it's helping people. To me, from what I've seen, I know it’s not the placebo effect. But for someone who can't see what I see, that's a good perspective."
The cost for a session runs around $150. And no, she doesn’t list her job as “exorcist” on her tax returns.
“There was a time when this was really embarrassing for me," Rachel says, "but the reality is, one day I decided this is who I am, and if people can’t handle that, it's fine."
Dylan Brody's 'A Child's Christmas in Schuylerville'
"We are the only Jews in Schuylerville New York," Dylan Brody opens his poignant, funny remembrance of Christmastime along the Hudson River. "So there is considerable confusion surrounding the great, well-decorated Christmas tree in our large, un-curtained living room. We are not very good Jews."
They might have been bad Jews, but Dylan - named for Dylan Thomas - is a good storyteller. Click the audio player to hear the Hanukkah and Christmas story that had the audience roaring and rapt when Dylan opened for David Sedaris at the Valley Performing Arts Center just before Thanksgiving.
And make plans to see any and all of Dylan's work on Saturday, Dec. 19, in a bravura marathon taping of three complete shows. There will be free food and drink, and Off-Ramp listeners can use the code OFFRAMP to get discounted tickets.
Dylan Brody's Three Shows - One Night; Sat., Dec. 19, 7pm. David Henry Hwang Theatre; 120 N Judge John Aiso Street, Los Angeles CA 90012
A Charlie Brown Christmas almost didn't get aired
"Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel. I just don't understand Christmas, I guess." -- Charlie Brown in A Charlie Brown Christmas
On December 12, 1965, a little boy with a round head walked onto more than 15 million American television screens, and became an instant success. But A Charlie Brown Christmas almost didn't air.
Charlie Brown and the gang from Charles Schulz's "Peanuts" had already been animated for TV commercials and titles, but this Christmas show established a pattern for "Peanuts" specials over the next four decades: intelligent stories, stylized animation, real children's voices and a stylish jazz score. Yet A Charlie Brown Christmas had been made quickly and on a minimal budget. Director Bill Melendez feared he'd ended Charlie Brown's TV career before it really began. CBS executives more accustomed to the madcap pace and slapstick humor of Hollywood theatrical cartoons dismissed it as "flat" and "slow." They only aired it because it was already scheduled and they had nothing to show in its place.
But A Charlie Brown Christmas beat Gomer Pyle, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. and The Beverly Hillbillies in the ratings, won an Emmy and a Peabody Award, and made the half-hour animated special a staple of network television. Chuck Jones' adaptation of Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas followed in 1966, and Rankin-Bass' Frosty the Snowman aired in 1969.
As an animation critic, I've sat through dozens of holiday jollifications over the years. The Chipmunks, the Flintstones, the Smurfs, Yogi Bear, He-Man and Fat Albert have all celebrated Christmas. Countless little animals and kids have "saved" Christmas and kept Santa from forgetting one kid or one town. Elves have reconnoitered houses for Santa's arrival, and reindeer noses have shown through snowy nights. Most holiday specials have been as saccharine and empty as a Twinkie. Only A Charlie Brown Christmas talks about what the holiday actually celebrates.
Bill Melendez told me that when he first read in the script that Linus would recite the Gospel according to St. Luke, he told Charles Schulz, "This is religion. It just doesn't go in a cartoon." Schulz looked at him very coldly and said, "Bill, if we don't do it, who will? We can do it."
And they could. Ironically, Linus' recitation -- one of the most memorable speeches in television history -- gives A Charlie Brown Christmas an honesty that appeals to people of all faiths - and no faith. Almost 50 years after its debut, it's a special that is actually special.
Charles Solomon is author of the newly published The Art and Making of Peanuts Animation: Celebrating Fifty Years of Television Specials.
Looking for a good Hanukkah TV special? Try 'Santa Claus is Comin' to Town'
I used to feel sorry for my Jewish friends at Christmastime, and not just during the slightly sad Christmas dinners we sometimes shared down in Chinatown.
What got to me more was the sense of encirclement I was sure they felt, as White Christmas, Silent Night, Adeste Fidelis and all the usual suspects erupted from every speaker in America, while Rudolph, Charlie Brown, and the Grinch invaded every TV screen. I was raised a Catholic, and sometimes all that makes me feel encircled too.
On TV, there was virtually nothing Hanukkah-related to compare to the annual Christmas hits. And when I thought about Jewish families, and especially their kids, this seemed like a serious lack. Because TV? It's still our communal hearth this time of year, and the essence of community is inclusion.
Well, despair not, children of Abraham, because I'm here to share an epiphany I had maybe 15 years ago, when I watched the big holiday specials with similar thoughts in mind. It turns out Hanukkah has its own annual TV celebration. A richly beloved program that's a cultural institution, and easily the coolest holiday show of all -- because it's gently subversive, and it hides in plain sight.
Ladies and (merry) gentlemen, I give you: Arthur Rankin and Jules Bass' 1970 masterwork Santa Claus is Comin' to Town: an origin myth for Santa, and almost as Jewish thematically as the annual Chabad telethon.
To begin with--the villains. They're Nazis, okay? They wear Kaiser Wilhelm Pickelhaube helmets, and their leader is called Burgermesiter Meisterburger, and the accent it straight out of Stalag 17.
The scariest moments in the special are when the Burgermeister's minions gather up Santa's first toys just after they're delivered and then burn them in front of the children they were meant for, the way the Nazis burned books at Wartburg.
By this point in the film, here's what we know about Santa: he's a foundling, who was delivered to his destiny on a winter wind the way Moses was carried by the Nile in the bulrushes. The elves who adopted him are ruled by a matriarch: Tante Kringle -- the Yiddish word for "aunt."
So Santa? He's a Jew.
And he's increasingly a freedom fighter, bringing toys to the children despite the Burgermeister's anti-toy decrees.
Important to note: the Burgermeister is one of the few villains ever created by teleplay writer Romeo Mueller who isn't redeemed in some way. Mueller wrote the script for the Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer special too, and you probably remember what a softie the abominable snowman turned out to be. But even cartoon Nazis couldn't be forgiven so easily. So it's only when time marches on and history rounds a few more bends that the Burgermeister is forgotten.
And Santa and his ragged band? Why, they leave the land of their sorrows and trials, and make what can only be called an Exodus, across trackless wastes, to found their own Promised Land at the North Pole.
Call it Santa's Village, or call it Israel. What I call it is an ingenious exploration of one religious community's core foundation myths, using the syntax of another's.
It makes Santa Claus is Comin' to Town a rich, cross-cultural experience if you know where to look.
Just like a good Christmas dinner.
In Chinatown.
(RH Greene is a writer and filmmaker. His latest film is Vampira and Me.)
Review: LA Opera's 'Norma' is a musical triumph for the ears — if not the eyes
Off-Ramp commentator Marc Haefele reviews “Norma” at the L.A. Opera through Dec. 13.
A statue of Vincenzo Bellini stands in a square in downtown Naples, Italy that bears his name. The statue is surrounded by broken green beer bottles and the piazza is filled with the sounds of students practicing in the national conservatory nearby. The young composer’s bronze face — Bellini died at age 34 — looks a bit perplexed by all that shattered glass and ambitious, studious noise.
If he’d been moved to the Dorothy Chandler lobby Saturday night, perhaps Bellini would have broken into a big smile. That’s how fine the L.A. Opera’s performance of Bellini’s bel canto masterpiece “Norma” was to listen to. But if Bellini had somehow entered the auditorium and seen the production, he might have had some reservations.
“Norma” is first and foremost a women’s opera. It demands two massively talented, extremely durable sopranos to sing the lead roles of the druid priestess Norma and her acolyte and partner Adalgisa. All three roles were brilliantly sung in the production by youngish singers at the top of their powers: Angela Meade, Jamie Barton and Russell Thomas.
The tenor Pollione is a caddish Roman proconsul of post-Julius Caesar Gaul and is the first protagonist onstage. Yet, Meade’s performance is the triumph of the opera. Bellini structured his opera in just two acts — a huge Act One and an abbreviated Act Two.
The first act centers on one of the greatest arias of all time: Norma's “Casta Diva." The aria is the priestess’ evocation of a chaste lunar deity. Meade's pacing in the aria is magnificent; she begins to sing in just a whisper, then builds to a mighty crescendo. The chorus joins her in a plea for peace between her people and the Romans. (Little do the other Druids know that the Romans' leader, Pollione, is the father of two of Norma's children. Yes, it’s complicated — or as Bellini put it, "passionate.") Norma is certainly in love with the despicable seducer Pollione, whose life she seeks to spare by preaching peace.
But the true passion is building between Norma and her assistant Adalgisa, for whom she is subsequently dumped by Pollione. (One wonders where librettist Felice Romani picked up such names that evoke neither ancient Gaul nor ancient Rome). In a soaring, sentient Scene 8 duet, Norma helps Adalgisa unpack her woeful new relationship’s travails only to discover that the girl’s recollections sound all too familiar because Pollione is the seducer. When Pollione appears, the three sing a trio so involved and beautiful it could itself define Bel Canto opera. Next, Adalgisa turns against Pollione. The women stand together against their defiler at the end of Act One after almost 90 minutes of pure, continuous melody. Now we wait for Norma’s revenge.
How, you wonder, can the composer outdo such a remarkable first act? But he does. Norma decrees she must die for her sins. Pollione — perhaps improbably — volunteers to join her. It’s a tragedy, but probably no two people looked happier about being burned alive than Norma and her restored swain. The moon rises over the orange implicit flames and what might be the greatest Italian serious opera before Verdi ends.
Pollione's character may be downplayed in the opera when compared to Norma or Adalgisa, but Russell Thomas at his L.A. Opera debut sang the role with immense strength and presence. Bass Morris Robinson, who has played Mozart’s sage Sarastro, was impressive in his similar, stabilizing role as Norma’s archdruid father, Oroveso. I also liked mezzo Lacey Jo Benter as Norma’s confidant and de-facto nurse, and sprightly tenor Rafael Moras as Pollione’s well-intending friend Flavio. In fact, the entire cast was wonderful, as was James Conlon as conductor, the orchestra’s performance and Grant Gershon’s chorus.
If only the production had been as pleasant to look at as it was to hear! There, "Norma" failed across the board. The mysterious oak grove meant to dominate Act One was a clutch of potted house plants. The costumes also left something to be desired — some of the druids looked like Brueghel peasants, others extras from a Christmas pageant. Pollione wore an epauletted leather trenchcoat that made him look like a Soviet tank commander. The attractive dance company did more posturing than dancing.
One could go on. But in short, a powerful musical presentation was let down by the visuals.
If you see Bellini wandering around the lobby, try to keep him out of the auditorium.
Song of the week: 'Can't Take It' by The Schizophonics
Off-Ramp’s song of the week is “Can’t Take It,” by San Diego-based band The Schizophonics. The Schizophonics are Pat Beers (guitar/vocals), Lety Beers (drums/backup vocals), and John Falk (bass). “Can’t Take It” was released in 2015.
This weekend The Schizophonics bring their high-energy rock 'n' roll to L.A. and will play at Cafe NELA in Cypress Park on Saturday, December 12. More info here.