Irish Times writers review the latest events in the arts
Gay Theatre Festival: Christine Jorgensen Reveals/All Alone Project Arts Centre
The layers of disguise in Christine Jorgensen Reveals are endless. From the inevitable social masquerade of the real-life trans-gendered protagonist's early years to the lip-synching performance of Bradford Louryk as the world's first celebrity trans-sexual, this production by Splinter Group Productions from New York reveals Jorgensen's personal identity as a series of performances that challenge, rather than reflect, the social mores of his, and then her, time.
Christine was born George Jorgensen in the Bronx in 1927. Following a short career in the army, George underwent three operations in Denmark to become a woman, before returning home as Christine. The public attention that accompanied her in her new life as a woman propelled her to a life lived almost entirely in the public eye.
The form of the play subtly exposes the tension between public and private manifestations of identity through its format as a semi-live recreation of the only TV interview recorded during Jorgensen's lifetime.
Louryk appears as Christine Jorgensen live in studio, embodying the sound-recording of Jorgensen's first-hand account of her personal history with elegant mannerisms and mesmerising word-perfect lip-movements.
Meanwhile, the self-conscious performance of the interviewer, who appears pre-recorded in the frame of a 1950s TV screen, reveals the prejudices and prurience of conservative American social values that are still prevalent today.
However, the most profound revelation is that of Jorgensen as a skilled and stylised performer herself, her composure exposed as a mask disguising her vulnerability as much as her male body once masked her true identity.
If Christine Jorgensen Reveals suggests that the media is responsible for perpetuating prejudiced attitudes to divergent sexual identities, All Alone, produced by Post Script Theatre London, suggests that the psychology of perversity find its most perfect and disturbing disguise in the mask of virtuality.
However, the production fails to exploit the dramatic potential of new media technologies such as the internet, presenting the audience with a non-dramatic barrage of crude psychological clichés instead.
Its heavy-handed sexual imagery is drawn from nursery rhymes that are given predictably unhappy endings. It's a most unhappy ending to the thought-provoking first half of the double bill. Sara Keating
Until May 13
Tönz, Gustafsson, RTÉ Philharmonic Choir et al NCH, Dublin
Brahms - Double Concerto. Ein deutsches Requiem
The RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra and its principal conductor, Gerhard Markson, concluded their five-concert Brahmsfest here with performances of the German Requiem and the Double Concerto for Violin and Cello.
The inclusion of the concerto was especially welcome, since it is rarely programmed, a work that sometimes elicits a less enthusiastic response than concertos with more virtuosic display. The really moving performances are the ones that treat it almost like chamber music.
And it was this approach that characterised the reading by Markson, violinist Stefan Tönz and cellist Jan-Erik Gustafsson, who - in their interaction and their sensitivity to the shifts of the musical spot-light - played more like a trio than two soloists and a conductor.
Together they drew out the reflection, optimism and underlying warmth of what proved to be Brahms's last orchestral work.
These same qualities are even more overtly present in the German Requiem, here made explicit by the biblical texts selected by Brahms himself in what was a major departure for a work called a requiem. It's music of quiet power, making it an interesting and ultimately effective choice as the final work in a survey of Brahms.
In addition, the performance honoured the 21st anniversary of the founding of the RTÉ Philharmonic Choir in 1985. Some members will remember two previous performances of the German Requiem. The first was poor. The second was prepared by Mark Duley, the then new chorus master, who introduced and has since maintained radical improvements to the choir's sound, blend, enunciation and production.
Even if this performance was not quite up to that standard, with some insecurities evident here and there, the singing was fresh and lively, and fully responsive in sound and meaning to the texts, rather overshadowing the contributions of soloists Franzita Whelan and Frode Olsen.
Markson was kept busy bridging the divide between his professional players and amateur choir in what was a performance of great sweep and emotional sincerity. Michael Dungan
Steven Bernstein's Diaspora Hollywood, The Sugar Club
The ultimate test of a concert is probably a simple one. Would you buy the album? And where Steven Bernstein's band is concerned, this listener's answer is no.
Not that it wasn't an enjoyable one. With Bernstein - a witty, engaging man with a great sense of humour - fronting the group, he had the audience on his side before a note was played. And the quintet - Bernstein (trumpet, slide trumpet), Clemens Salesny (baritone saxophone, bass clarinet), DJ Bonebrake (vibes), David Piltch (bass) and Danny Frankel (drums, percussion) - was a highly capable, tight working band that could establish an inviting groove in the individual idiom of its choosing.
This is a noir-ish mixture of Jewish traditional music and jazz, whose essentially melancholy basis was immediately established by Bernstein's declamatory, keening frahlich trumpet on the opening slow medium Havenu Shalom Alechum.
It's an idiom that draws its raw material from the prayers of the great Jewish cantors and the cultural rituals of their people - like the graceful dance of Jehudis Bas Zion - and therefore can be assumed to have particular resonance for anyone thoroughly familiar with that tradition.
Without that cultural connection, the music seemed merely attractive. Mostly modal in character and with long passages based on bass pedals or simple rhythmic figures, it placed a considerable onus on the soloists to find ways of adding to its interest without totally obliterating its nature.
Up to a point they succeeded. Bernstein, a witty soloist, is a really strong trumpeter, technically assured, with a great range; Salesny could produce striking effects on both his instruments; and Bonebrake was a good soloist and sensitive accompanist.
But they frequently succumbed to the temptation to use effects to enliven the material, and in so doing not only stretched its fabric to bursting point at times, but also allowed a certain sameness of approach to dominate their performance.
Ultimately the concert's blend of Jewish and jazz ingredients was a dish with a distinctive (and at times tasty) flavour. But it was more an elongated snack than a full meal. Ray Comiskey
