Although only about 40 minutes long, Labyrinth, composed by Evan J Lawson, with libretto by Daniel Szesiong Todd, packed a full range of energy and emotion into a new interpretation of the Greek tale of the Minotaur and his slaying at the hand of Theseus, with the assistance of Ariadne.
The performance begins outside in the open with a spoken prologue from Theseus (Todd, a central protagonist as well as librettist), who addresses the audience as his fellow Athenians about to be led in for sacrifice. We are then beckoned into the old underground storage area of the Abbotsford Convent, an apposite setting for this performance, with the action moving through three of its spaces, and providing a wonderful acoustic for voices and instruments.
Opening Scene 1, Todd and Kim Tan on flute lead the audience into what is a not-very-dark “labyrinth’ as Todd begins to sing, his drop-dead gorgeous voice grabbing us from the first note, now accompanied by a distant yet present piano accompaniment from Danaë Killian. We realised that the piano is the mysterious Minotaur, somewhere far off in the depths of the labyrinth, yet already rumbling discontent. Todd’s enraged call for vengeance was perfectly mirrored in his facial expressions. And how close we were to him – intimately closer than any stage would allow! Ariadne (Teresa Ingrilli) has now joined us, mocking Theseus as a “weaponless wonder”, “toothless, blind”. Ingrilli has a wonderfully rich voice that is equally at home in both her lower register and her thrilling top notes. Like Todd, she sings with fine expressiveness.
In Scene 2, Theseus tells us to follow him into the next room where ominously red threads are woven and suspended from the ceiling. We are instructed by gesture to line up around the walls – to discover that the space is needed by dancers Ashley Dougan and Jesse Matthews, who perform a “thread dance”, weaving around effortlessly and in almost perfect synchrony. The dance, which perhaps went on a bit long, is accompanied by Helen Bower in a rather lovely electric violin/electronic loop combo. This leads into Scene 3, where Ariadne then enters to give Theseus the end of the thread to find his way and we proceed into the third space.
Theseus then gives us an impassioned aria desperate to prove his worth to his father as he aims to kill the Minotaur. This was impressive, with splendid singing from Todd and a spare accompaniment from Bower and Killian. In Ariadne’s aria that follows, Ingrilli skillfully negotiated the expanse of unmetered melody, showing off to great advantage Todd’s lovely poetic text about an innocent Asterion who “smelled of milk and moss when he was born”, before he was locked away in the labyrinth. Ingrilli’s “my brother” was particularly beautiful, soft and haunting. The aria was a lovely reference to Beth Carter’s bronze sculpture Minotaur Reading, “a youthful minotaur hunched over a little book” (program note) which was the inspiration for the librettist. The flute is gently accompanying, but the piano (Killian as the Minotaur) is becoming restless and repetitive.
Scene 4 begins with the entry of SodaWater as Daedalus, architect of the labyrinth as well as the artificial cow he built for Ariadne’s mother Pasiphaë when she was condemned by her husband, King Minos, to be impregnated by a bull. Although not part of the original myth, in this telling Daedalus is locked in the labyrinth “doomed to wander its caverns” for his treachery. Daedalus’s jolly folk-like ditties were sung in a crazed fashion (“I was just the engineer!”), rather like a Shakespearean madman losing his mind. SodaWater’s extraordinary voice moved effortlessly, often in the space of a bar, from low notes to the thrilling countertenor heard in The Sea, Forest Collective’s previous work. Daedalus moves into the last room of the labyrinth where he is devoured in agony.
Scene 5 opens with a moving duet, beautifully sung by Todd and Ingrilli, where Ariadne gives Theseus the sword to kill the Minotaur and implores him to take her with him far away where they can escape the shame they have inherited from their forebears. They then lead us into the last room where Daedalus lies dead beside the Minotaur (Killian) who plays the closing concerto. Leading into this, the piano has become more desperate, frightening and furious, with huge blows and chords in the lowest bass – sounding rich and scarily strange in these underground acoustic chambers. Killian is wreathed in a black lacy flowing gown, looking like a grand mad Edith Sitwell-as-Minotaur. The solo piano movement is a tour de force from an utterly fearless Killian. Every pianistic skill is on display and the grand piano sounds superb for a full ten startling minutes. Unfortunately, in this final scene audience members at the back of the long room were not able to see much of Killian’s playing with the crowd in front blocking the view, unlike the earlier spaces when we were against the wall and all able to see the action.
A minor quibble with the staging – except for Scene 2 with the Thread Dance, where “the room is illumed”, the lighting was never low enough to feel like the gloomy or frightening underground place painted by Ariadne: “the darkness of this place … seeps into you like black olives in brine”. On the other hand, there was enough light to follow the libretto thoughtfully provided in the program, although it seemed that few were following it; they would have missed much of the flow of Todd’s poetry, even with the singers’ clear diction.
In conclusion, we found this a very convincing retelling of the story of the Minotaur, with excellent performances from both singers and instrumentalists, and we gratefully accepted Theseus’ invitation to follow and immerse ourselves in the labyrinth. In Forest Collective’s December production, The Sea, we had found the relationship between music, text and action somewhat elusive, but in this new work the score and libretto were fully in harmony. Lawson’s music was accessible and excitingly inventive and Todd’s libretto was a wonderful illustration of his mastery of poetry.
Photo credit: Suzanne Phoenix
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Kristina and Bruce Macrae reviewed Forest Collective’s production of “Labyrinth”, performed at The Store, Abbotsford Convent on February 8, 2024.
