Obeah Opera succeeds in giving voice to the silent — in particular, to women brought as slaves to the American colonies — even if it doesn’t necessarily fit the usual definitions of opera.
Multi-faceted and multi-talented Torontonian Nicole Brooks has created an a cappella musical show in which a cast/chorus of 15 women takes its audience through a two-act, 90-minute, history of dispossession, oppression and condemnation that culminates in redemption through self-empowerment.
It’s a communal, community-focused show, co-produced by Theatre Archipelago and b current Performing Arts, that provides an ideal vehicle for inventive choral work.
At Thursday night’s performance at the 918 Bathurst Centre (two blocks north of the Bathurst subway station), Brooks and her fellow singers showed tremendous vocal range and skill, and spared no energy or effort to imbue every note and word with a maximum of dramatic force.
The choruses and sung monologues are woven seamlessly into one of the craziest stylistic quilts I have ever heard, where African chant morphs into blues, gospel, traditional spirituals and, on one occasion, an approximation of a shape-note hymn.
Old, familiar choruses share space with clever intermixing of vocal sound effects and straight-ahead singing, delivered with the edge of natural voices, not the deliberate polish of classical singers.
Although all of the women share credit for showcasing the emotionally moving power of the human voice raised in concert, Macomere Fifi, Toronto’s reigning Calypso Queen, deserves special mention for her no-holds-barred evocations of Africa and the Caribbean.
It’s easy to get swept up by these powerful vocals, nicely directed by Tova Kardonne. The singers move effectively on and around the thrust stage, thanks to choreography by Anthony Prime Guerra.
This production gets a further boost from Julia Tribe’s colourful and versatile costumes and simple set, atmospherically lit by CJ Astronomo.
The show could be even more powerful if the audience were given the opportunity to make a more personal connection to one of its characters.
Yes, we are shown the plight of three women accused of practising Obeah, an ancient African healing art. Treated as witches, the slaves are condemned to death. But because the emphasis on stage and in the singing is on the collective, we are swept up repeatedly by issues rather than by the individual trials and tribulations of the accused.
That said, Obeah Opera serves as a potent reminder of all the voices silenced as they are swept under History’s heavy, ever-unrolling rug — and there’s no better time to experience it than during Black History Month.
Shows continue to March 4. For details and tickets, click here.
John Terauds