I'll do a few sound poems for your entertainment.
I had the very great fortune last summer
in August to perform in an opera by R. Murray Schafer,
an opera called The Princess of The Stars.
R. Murray Schafer is probably our greatest exported composer.
This opera is widely considered one
of the most difficult to perform in the history
of Canadian music, because it takes place at four o'clock
in the morning in the remote reaches of northern Canada
on an open lake.
And all the action takes place inside giant canoes decked out
to be the characters in these performances,
and there's a full orchestra hidden away
in the woods in the middle of nowhere
with all of these acts on the lake.
It's a kind of living dream that you get to watch
in the middle of the night.
The story concerns The Princess of The Stars, an allegory
for the moon, who falls out of the sky,
because she has listened too closely
to the song of the wolf.
And she falls into the lake, where, in fact, the action
takes place and is abducted by the evil villain, the three
horned enemy.
Now, without meaning to do so, the producers actually
opened this performance on the very night of the lunar
eclipse, and while the opening aria of the soprano occurred,
the lunar eclipse began devouring the moon.
It was quite a beautiful experience.
I was awestruck.
Now, you have to imagine me playing, of course,
the villain in this opera.
I described my character as a kind of crazy pirate
aboard a psychedelic submarine barking orders at his crew.
You have to imagine I'm inside this gigantic dragon-like
puppet, operating it, while I'm performing
this particular aria.
Now, I should note that this aria is never given to an opera
singer, because no, no virtuoso performer would ever
risk their voice and their career on such a performance.
I'll perform for you now the aria of the three horned enemy.
I apologize for its stentorian excesses.
(SINGING)
[INAUDIBLE]
[APPLAUSE]