Dorothy Dittrich’s The Piano Teacher: moments of wisdom from an unlikely source.

 

Elaine has long come to terms with the arthritis which sidelined her performing career as a pianist – or so she thinks.

She’s remade herself into the kind of inspired piano teacher who comfortably accepts a student’s desire to not perform on recital day knowing, perhaps, that the music lives already in the child.

When Erin, a celebrated pianist so grief-stricken she can’t even bear to sit on a piano bench, asks Elaine to be her teacher, playwright Dorothy Dittrich uses their relationship to explore grief, loss and the potency latent in music.

“Music is a language. You have to learn to speak it, not just play it,” Elaine (Caitriona Murphy) says in the Arts Club’s production of The Piano Teacher. “Music played from the heart is healing.”

When Erin (Megan Leitch) recounts the recital day incident in an imaginary conversation with her husband, I want to cheer in solidarity for all young music students. “Imagine the freedom, Kevin. Imagine the space not to play,” Erin says.   The child said, “’I learned a bunch of songs,’ and sat down!”

Humour lightens what could be a heavy theme. Erin doesn’t like Beethoven because he was “too big, too loud. Probably a bastard.” Elaine admits Chopin’s music “reminds me of clammy hands.”

But for all the levity, Megan Leitch’s Erin is a painfully accurate depiction of the desperate loneliness and emptiness of depression. Jenifer Darbellay’s costumes are perfect in everyday simplicity. Although we never actually see Erin’s thin, bare, brave shoulder-blades, we feel them.

Patrick Pennefather’s spare sound design skillfully walks the line between appealing to intellect and emotion, and never descends into overblown indulgence.

While Elaine’s love interest, Tom, is a lightly sketched character played with amiable animal warmth by Kamyar Pazandeh, there’s no real need for Tom to be fully-fleshed. Depression flattens perspective and if one is emotionally ready, as Elaine becomes, even the smallest event or interaction can be enough to help spark a return to life.

As a musician, I warmed to Dittrich’s theme. Playing music is indeed “a relationship,” that transforms both player and listener. The chord “unbroken” can  sound “banal”, but broken, can indeed be “sublime.”

“The broken chord acts as a container for the melody,” Elaine says poetically. “It supports without imposing itself.”

In one heart-stopping moment, Elaine asks Erin “What’s (composer Aaron) Copeland to you?”

Erin answers with one word: “Space.”

“This man has found a way to make us hear the landscape and the space around it,” she continues. “He’s given space a voice.”

As Erin regains her ability to play music, Elaine finds the space to explore her own loss. “I wasn’t prepared for Erin,” Elaine says. “How could I be? She was the teacher.”

Yet while Erin and Elaine’s dialogue is clear, spare and delicate in its dance between emotion and rationality, Elaine’s lecture/musings occasionally jarred with painful banality. I felt an almost physical affront from inane lines like “Life changes you,” and “I think you just have to be grateful for what you have and do the things you love.”

Does the blatancy of these lessons, along with the obvious metaphor of Elaine installing a giant new window on her landing at home, originate from the playwright? Dittrich, afterall, also wrote this sensitive, illuminating observation: music is “sounds and silence in motion. It has to have space and time. Sometimes it gets too intense and it has to breathe.”

Or does the responsibility lie with the Arts Club looking to provide its paying audience with simple answers nicely wrapped up in a picture window?

– Jenny Lee

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This Week in GLS: A Poem

This past week I must confess
the art we saw in GLS
was tough for me to analyze
(of graphic novels I’m not wise,
And piano from the ‘Peanuts’ show
is more the kind and style I know.)
But I lent a sympathetic ear;
I tried to swallow my own fear
and pretend I wasn’t feeling meek
at the notion of critique.
I’m glad I did! From MNY
I learned a lot of Haida Gwaii,
and how a painting can be turned
for new perspective to be earned;
that playfulness is above all
in works he makes, both large and small.
And then we heard from Andrew Czink
whose piano concert made me think
that maybe piano is percussion?
(I guess that warrants more discussion.)
That playing’s a demanding task
(and physically a lot to ask).
His tests with form are like Monet’s
When painting on a cloudy day.
(At first the critics loathed his views
Cause he was trying something new.)
Andrew experiments with song
and different’s not the same as wrong.
Then Wednesday brought our talk on art;
where it belongs when things fall apart.
And Susan, Max, and Larry said
Rejoice! The world of art’s not dead.
That art is what our culture needs
if society is to succeed
and answers aren’t what art provides
but questions that can be our guide.
Art’s ‘lightning flash’ illuminates
but does not fix, does not dictate.
So let’s jump in! Our role is clear;
as critics we should have no fear.
Let’s be open, let’s be brave
Like the artists, we want to save
the plays, the music, paintings, dance,
they’re much too great to leave to chance.
Let’s make the role of critic heeded
and show the world that art’s still needed.