Oksana G.

2017

composer Aaron Gervais | librettist Colleen Murphy

Set in 1997, Oksana G. is the story of Oksana, a young Ukrainian woman lured into the world of sex trafficking by a Russian recruiter, Konstantin, who unexpectedly falls in love with her. Oksana escapes to a refugee shelter in Brindisi, Italy, where she meets a Canadian priest, Alexander, and finds herself entangled in a battle to regain her own strength. With a fierce heroine battling overwhelming odds, Oksana G challenges operatic conventions and offers a portrayal of human trafficking.

World Premiere May 24, 2017, by Tapestry Opera at the Imperial Oil Theatre in Toronto.

Original program note by Aaron Gervais:
Opera is about emotional communication; nothing makes an audience relate with a character the same way opera does. At the same time, sex trafficking is so prevalent and so terrible that it tends to be dehumanized. Therefore, the story of sex trafficking needs to be told in a way that makes us intuitively realize how real and awful it is. We all know the facts, but we need to feel the plight of a normal girl who gets trapped in this situation; feel that it could have just as easily been us, or our sisters, or our daughters… After the Oksana G. opera, we think, ‘Oh my god, that could have been me.’ It is that kind of realization that can galvanize an individual to step up and make a difference in the lives of others. That’s why this story has to be told as an opera.
— Aaron Gervais, composer.

Review: Oksana G. never loses its heart amidst troubling subject matter

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By Robert Harris, on May 25, 2017

It is a tribute to the artistry of the performers of Oksana G., the new opera from Toronto's Tapestry Opera, that the vividness and explicit action of the opera never overwhelms the heart of the piece, never turns our attention away from the human stories portrayed in this affecting production. Because, after all, Oksana G. is about human trafficking and the international sex trade, and has scenes that are full of violence and degradation. And sometimes the sheer brute portrayal of these scenes can have the opposite effect than the one intended and dehumanize us in the audience as well as the characters on stage, deadening the emotional content being portrayed.

And I say Oksana G. is about human trafficking, but actually it's not. It's about the competing powers of love and hate in the world, and what happens to us all when we are caught between the two, can't turn our back on either – victims, in effect, of both. Because counterpointed against Act 1's garish horror of Oksana G.'s descent into the international slave sex trade is a second act, set in a refuge in Italy, that opens up the question of the possibilities of faith, love and forgiveness, and which redeems the high-octane emotional ride of the beginning with a more reflective, lyrical strain. Unfortunately for the characters in the opera, that lyrical interlude does not last, and the opera ends operatically, in death and tragedy.

What keeps Oksana G. from veering into the melodramatic is both the skill of its librettist and composer, Colleen Murphy and Aaron Gervais respectively, and, even more importantly, the subtlety of the performers on stage. Natalya Gennadi puts in a fine performance as the title character, who begins as a young naive girl, hardening as the evening progresses but never ossifying, her heart retaining some pliability throughout. Gennadi's lyric soprano was a pleasure to listen to, and she tried, mainly successfully, to modulate her performance as the story progressed.

I was especially taken with Adam Fisher as Father Alexander, the Canadian priest who runs the Italian refuge, who first supports Oksana with his faith and kindness, eventually with his love. Fisher had the advantage of singing most of his lines in English (the Russian and Ukrainian characters sing in those languages, making surtitles a troublesome necessity for most of the evening), but he also effortlessly provided the warmth that balanced the coldness of Oksana's servitude. And that coldness was personified in the figure of Keith Klassen's Konstantin, Oksana's abductor, jailer, pimp, would-be lover and obsessive, whose explosive energy beats at the troubled, evil heart of the work.

Klassen did a great job with Konstantin, but the contradictory nature of the character itself, who veers from love to hate, tenderness to destruction in the flick of an eyelash, was a tricky mix, sometimes escaping Klassen's tenacious grip. Both Krisztina Szabo and Alexander Hajek added a fine reflected agony to the proceedings as Oksana's parents, while Jacqueline Woodley and Andrea Ludwig, especially, provided strong support as Oksana's partners in degraded servitude.

Murphy's libretto had many fine, warm touches, especially in the Italy-set Act 2, and Gervais's score was extremely well-made. It was very atmospheric, with his stripped-down 15-person orchestra providing just the right colour and accompaniment to Murphy's words – often reinforcing them, just as often setting them off with a sonic counterpoint. Jordan de Souza led the orchestra with an extremely fine-tuned sense of colour and balance, keeping the music strictly controlled, but lyrical nonetheless.

Human trafficking may be the generating idea of Oksana G., but, as I left the Imperial Oil Opera Theatre on Wednesday, I realized that the power of the work does not really lie in the vivid and dramatic portrayal of that modern scourge, medieval in its barbarism and cruelty, but in the examination, as with all great art, of the complex and infinitely fascinating chambers of the human heart. It is a tribute to this ambitious work that it never lets the opulence of its drama overwhelm the power – modest but real – of emotion and caring in its fractured and trying world. It's what makes Oksana, in the end, a hero, not a victim. Oksana G. runs May 24 through May 30 at the Imperial Oil Opera Theatre in Toronto

Review: Oksana G.

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By John Gilks, on May 25, 2017

Aaron Gervais’ and Colleen Murphy’s Oksana G. finally made it to the stage last night after a most convoluted journey. It’s being produced by Tapestry at the Imperial Oil Theatre with Tom Diamond directing. The wait, I think has been worth it. The story, set in 1997, of a naive country girl from the Ukraine who gets caught up in sex trafficking is dramatic and the it convincingly depicts the sleazy underworld of southern and eastern Europe created by the collapse of the USSR, the civil wars in the Balkans and the pervasive official corruption in countries like Ukraine, Greece and Italy. It’s gritty and, at times, not at all easy to watch.

Part of the effectiveness of the piece comes from the contrasts in its dramatic structure. Scenes from Oksana’s journey across Europe are interspersed with scenes in her home village featuring her parents, a fortune teller and a local boy. The contrast of the simple village world, where there is one telephone and a pair of cool sunglasses represent the ultimate in sophistication, and the increasingly violent, corrupt and unpleasant world Oksana finds herself in is effective and it allows the librettist to work in tarot card symbolism effectively.

There’s some interesting character development. Oksana herself, sung by Nataly Gennadi, goes from innocent and optimistic through various stages of defiance to guilt over the collateral damage involved in saving herself to final despair. Her main antagonist, Konstantin sung by Keith Klassen, is rather more than just the unpleasant bully one might expect. He’s deeply damaged by childhood trauma and fetishizes Oksana in a rather disturbing and almost childlike way without losing any of his brutality. Andrea Ludwig plays Lyuba, a Russian trafficked prostitute, who has acquired a kind of resilient “fuck you” quality despite the awful things happening to her. Jacquie Woodley, who plays the hopelessly naive Natalia who ends up mutilated and drowned, is really engaging. The village quartet; Krisztina Szabó as the mother, Alexander Hajek as the father, Aaron Sheppard as the boy and a very convincing Kimberley Barber as the fortune teller, contrast strongly with the rest of the cast as they need to. Act 2 brings in the other key character; the Canadian priest Father Alexander sung by Adam Fisher. It’s an interesting study in a person trying, somewhat idealistically, to do good in the face of illimitable need while battling his own demons. His dangerously close relationship with Oksana is also well drawn. Maria Soulis as the practical housekeeper provides a well drawn foil to his idealism.

The score is distinctive. There’s a chamber orchestra of fifteen players plus a fair amount of pre recorded sound effect material. It’s atmospheric and heavy on percussion creating quite a rich sound world that sucked me in but there’s not a lot of interesting vocal writing, especially in Act 1. It’s pretty much through sung recitative. Act 2 is a bit more expansive in that department with a few passages that pretty much function as arias and a rather good duet for Oksana and Father Alexander. I have a feeling too that the orchestral textures were not helped by the acoustics (it’s a cavernous rehearsal space) or the necessity to have the orchestra off to one side because there’s no pit. Jordan de Souza though did his level best to get the detail across.

The production is slick, and it needs to be. There are sixteen scenes and one of the keys to this production is the highly efficient way that the changes were made on a curtainless stage. Diamond also uses the stage depth to great effect and there’s a highly atmospheric lighting plot that is central to creating the delineation between the different scenes. Direction of the characters is definitely in “realistic” mode. There are no big stagey gestures but lots of detail. It’s all very carefully considered and well executed.

There are some fine performances. Natalya Gennadi makes a very convincing Oksana. She looks the part, sings well and is a very accomplished actress. Klassen manages the mood swings of Konstantin pretty well and has the necessary power to bring out the darker side of the part. Adam Fisher is lyrical as the slightly dreamy Alexander. The contrast between the two tenors is effective. I also really enjoyed the cameos of Andrea Ludwig whose body language communicated perhaps even more than her fine singing. The rest of the cast was extremely effective and the chorus, on the odd occasions it gets to sing, is fine.

It’s not often that Toronto sees new works as ambitious as Oksana G. It’s a genuine, full length chamber opera which tells a real, human story with just the right touch of universality. I found it dramatically compelling and musically interesting. It’s well worth seeing. There are three more performances on May 26th and 30th at 8pm and May 28th at 3pm. Oksana G. plays at the Imperial Oil Theatre, 227 Front Street East.

TOUGH TO WATCH: OKSANA G.

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By Jenna Simeonov and Greg Finney, on date

Jenna: "The story of sex trafficking needs to be told in a way that makes us intuitively realize how real and awful it is. We all know the facts, but we need to feel the plight of a normal girl who gets trapped in this situation; feel that it could have just as easily been us, or our sisters, or our daughters,” write composer Aaron Gervais and librettist Colleen Murphy of their opera, Oksana G. "It is that kind of realization that can galvanize an individual to step up and make a difference in the lives of others. That’s why this story has to be told as an opera."

Greg: Oksana G. is a dark, horrifying tale of the abuses that some more-than-unfortunate Ukrainian women were forced to endure during the rise of crime and sex trafficking following the dissolution of the USSR. This is a powerful story, borne of our times and it speaks right to the heart of a lot of discussions that are in the forefront of the minds of the general populace.

Greg: This piece is both timely and timeless, presenting issues that may be foreign to many Canadians - save our experience seeing it on the news. These things are still happening, and with the current state of affairs in the former Soviet Union, it seems like it’s on an upswing again. Young women and children still regularly fall prey to these situations. It’s not easy to watch it portrayed, but it’s something more people need to see and be informed about. Once again, Tapestry Opera finds itself at the forefront of some of the most important contemporary social discussions.

Jenna: Oksana G. certainly leaves you with a heaviness, even a numbness. The world premiere, presented by Tapestry Opera is a powerful story of discomfort, horror, and worst of all, reality. With its home-grown cast and creative team, this debut production by Tom Diamond is also a moving display of the beautiful artistry we have in Canada.

Jenna: The score by Gervais seems to tumble forward, with evocative and painful harmonies supporting a speech-like setting of the multi-lingual libretto by Murphy. Dubbed “opera vérité”, the action of Oksana G. moves at a pace that’s almost shockingly brisk for opera. In compact scenes, we discover small-town Ukraine and meet the 17 year-old Oksana, whose home life is humble and whose friends and family love her. Within minutes, big smiles and charming naïveté give way to regrettable decisions and bewildering, terrifying circumstances.

Greg: Gervais’ score is lovely. In the vein of a lot of current operatic compositions, the harmonic structures are lush washes of sound that the sung dialogue dances over. I would have liked to see some more variation in the overall “feel” of the piece (there’s a moment when Oksana and her friends dance to a Russian folk song, and it was one of the most memorable parts of the show, due to its stark contrast to the rest of the score.) The auction scene is breathtakingly suspenseful and masterfully staged to bring about the anxiety in Gervais’ score. Murphy’s libretto (sung in Ukrainian, Italian and English) is as accessible as it is poetic and marries beautifully with Gervais’s craftily conceived vocal lines. Under Jordan De Souza’s baton, the orchestra was lush and delicious and full of new and interesting colours. I did feel there was some balance issues between the stage-level pit and the singers - in particular in the high voices low registers - but the colours…#tonepainting.

Jenna: There’s much about Oksana that’s maddening. Kind and trusting people make risky and uninformed decisions, and evil people lie and harm others with no remorse; everyday people ignore cries for help from sex workers, and helpless parents, left without money or police, turn to fortune-tellers in times of desperation. Maddening as it may be - and easy as it seems to say, “I’m too smart to fall for that” - the story of human trafficking is true and happening now.

Greg: Tom Diamond has the heroic task of bringing all this to its feet - and he does so in a way that is inspiring. Masterfully using the depths created by the cavernous Imperial Oil Theatre at the Canadian Opera Company’s headquarters, the scenes travel back and forth seamlessly. The treatment of Oksana not just as a victim, but a tragic heroine who takes her future into her own hands. His use of the chorus (all top-notch performers) was masterclass in staging. Kudos to designer Teresa Przybylski and lighting designer Jason Hand for bringing to life one of the best sets I’ve ever seen at an opera.

Jenna: Teresa Przybylski’s staggered looming pillars across the wide stage, with the help of lighting designer Jason Hand, seemed to morph from forest to church tower, and always seemed to obscure the full truth. Within the expansive, shadowy space of the Imperial Oil Opera Theatre, Tom Diamond took each scene and distilled it to what is universal about the business of selling people: the communication - and manipulation - of people.

Greg: The singing by everyone on stage was beautiful. Everyone was on the top of their game vocally, but where this show shines is in the dramatic portrayal of these colourful (for lack of a better word) characters. Each body on the stage was used cleanly and artistically and nothing was done that didn’t drive the plot forward. I have to say that this show employs some of the most impressive a vista scene changes I’ve seen in live theatre. The cast is huge and this is the largest-scale production I’ve seen Tapestry produce.

Jenna: There was true familiarity in the cautious optimism of Oksana’s parents (Alexander Hajek and Krisztina Szabó), and their descent into misplaced rage, fueled by the stress of a missing child. The cheek-splitting grins of Oksana (Natalya Gennadi) and her friend Natalia (Jacqueline Woodley) set up a devastating u-turn when we see them next, in chains. The girls - Oksana, Natalia, and Lyuba (Andrea Ludwig), whom they meet “on the job” - showed a fascinating slice of how people deal differently with stress and captivity; Oksana held on to reason and hope (for a time, at least), Lyuba seemed to grow tough, and Natalia simply crumbled.

Greg: As the titular Oksana G., Natalya Gennadi embodies the character’s tragic journey wholly and honestly from start to finish. Even in her darkest moments, she still manages to let Oksana’s positive lights shine through. Her strength is palpable. As her friend Natalia, Jacqueline Woodley portrays an innocent girl destroyed by the world she finds herself forced in. Her portrayal was spellbinding. Keith Klassen, singing the piece’s main villain, Konstantin, brings his signature steely-voiced tenor and a portrayal of a character that is equal parts charisma and danger. His layered characterization is pivotal to the girls’ decision to follow him to pursue their dreams - dreams which turn to nightmares. Tenor Adam Fisher shines in the role of Canadian priest Father Alexander, who is responsible for saving some of the women sold into the sex trade. His voice was clean and bright and wrought with emotion. He employed the use of a more musical theatre vocalism which lent itself well to this modern score. I have to say, his English diction was some of the best in the show.

Jenna: As sickening as it is, there’s even a familiarity with the connection between Oksana and her captor, Konstantin. Konstantin (Keith Klassen) has a perverse concept of what it means to love someone; his “love” for Oksana is all-consuming, and he imposes upon her what she must do for him, as the “loved” person. Klassen’s strong tenor seems to turn dangerous on a dime, and Gervais writes for Konstantin a perfect foil in Father Alexander, sung in a standout performance by Adam Fisher. The Canadian priest, whose troubled past may or may not have led to his humanitarian work in Italy, is almost too good to be true. Where Konstantin wanted things from Oksana, Father Alexander wants them for her. Perhaps in an echo of Oksana’s fateful goodness, Father Alexander’s flaw is falling for the trap laid by Konstantin. It’s disturbing in layers, to see Konstantin jealous and accusatory towards Oksana over her relationship with the Priest; for someone who is manipulative and self-serving, perhaps it’s impossible to imagine a relationship between a man and a woman that doesn’t involve sex, or some form of currency exchange.

Greg: Playing Oksana’s mother, Krisztina Szabó plays a beautiful Sofiya. Caring, warm, and matronly, her journey through Oksana’s disappearance is a roller-coaster ride of emotions. The standout for me as Asa, the tarot reader, was mezzo-soprano Kimberly Barber. She absolutely shines in this role. Wisdom and clarity in a lovely smoky low register I found myself immediately captured by her presence onstage. Maria Soulis as Clara, Father Alexander’s helper in Rome, sings with a bright tone and her pragmatic character were a great foil against Fisher’s idealistic and romantic Father Alexander. Rounding out the cast with some stellar performances were Andrea Ludwig as Lyuba, Erica Iris, Neil Craighead, Aaron Sheppard, Cairan Ryan, and Alexander Hajek, each with a completely drawn character that was well sung and engrossing.

Oksana G. isn’t a show one “enjoys”. It has staying power in the minds of its listeners, a combination of anger and numbness that follows out of Murphy’s story and Gervais’ homogenous, undulating score. The world premiere run plays at 227 Front St. East until May 30th; you can - and should - get your tickets. Don’t miss one of th emost important pieces of theatre art produced this season.

Oksana G Review

By Ian Ritchie, on May 28, 2017

On June 27, 1997, in the secluded farming community of Kostychany, Ukraine, a pretty 18-year old high school graduate, identified only as Oksana G, meets a handsome stranger in the local town square. Introducing himself as Konstantin, the self-described international job recruiter persuades the excited teenager and her best friend Natalia to accompany him to Greece, promising top pay as cleaners in glamorous up-market resorts. Journeying south by car through Romania, the young women are raped by Konstantin and the two men he employs as enforcers. Arriving on the island of Kos, Oksana and Natalia, are held, chained and shackled in a bar with other terrified young women, until they can be sold at auction. Konstantin claims Oksana for himself, winning her with a $2,000 bid. Natalia, a gift to a corrupt immigration official and known sex sadist, is left catatonic and hideously disfigured after being viciously slashed across the face. Smuggled by speedboat from Albania, the two girls are trafficked to Italy. Natalia drowns in the Adriatic en route.

Imprisoned in a hotel in Bari, Oksana manages to escape, breaking her leg after leaping from a 4th storey window. In Brindisi, a Canadian priest, Father Alexander, shelters her in a cramped refugee centre filled with victims of the Bosnian War. Oksana suffers sleepless nights, haunted by nightmares. Alexander helps her gradually rebuild her feelings of self-worth. Then suddenly one day, acting on a tip from one of his spies, Konstantin re-appears, waving a fistful of cash to buy back Oksana. Enraged, Father Alexander evicts him. Konstantin flings his money at the priest little suspecting that Alexander will use it to purchase a passport for Oksana and an airplane ticket to Odessa. Nothing goes to plan. Responding to a trick call to rescue yet another terrorized woman from slavery, Father Alexander is lured to a deserted industrial zone at night where he is badly beaten by Konstantin’s thugs. Konstantin creeps into Oksana’s room. Oksana lashes out, thrusting a knife into his genitals. As she sits at her window watching the sun rise, Konstantin dies. “I closed the mouth of a lion,” she whispers.

A raw, relentlessly disturbing story told in bold, unflinching terms accented with all the urgency of investigative journalism or, seen from a no less keen sociological viewpoint, a taut case study. But, in reality, Oksana G is neither. It is opera, a ferocious new work by Canadian film maker/playwright Colleen Murphy and composer Aaron Gervais that brutally recontextualizes an entire art form. And our relationship to a horrific on-going human tragedy.

A decade in the making, partially revealed in an intimate workshop production in 2012, Tapestry Opera’s startling, supremely courageous commission currently playing at the Joey and Toby Tannenbaum Centre’s Imperial Oil Theatre, has morphed into a fine, mature production of great honesty and power.

Built on a series of 18 crisply plotted classic black-out scenes, prologue and epilogue appended, Oksana G is a model of dramatic integrity. Exposition, a potential tripping hazard in the drive to maintain forward momentum, is smoothly surmounted here. Every narrative beat assumes its own legitimacy, links in time and place transmitted seemingly casually in brisk bursts of recitative, no small challenge in such a sprawling piece. Characters are as clearly drawn as they are multi-dimensional. Virtually all the fictional principals have profoundly painful backstories. Konstantin, a teenager in Tiblisi, was forced, by his own admission, to run for his life after a squad of Russian troops raped his mother before gunning down her and his father. Father Alexander is crippled by guilt, the one and only girl he ever loved killed in the car crash he could have prevented a lifetime ago. The present flows from the past, cruelty and kindness springing from much the same source of bitter experience. Fate plays out like a series of Tarot cards. Only the soul is constant. “The wind will carry our names out to sea,” sings a chorus of the damned and the defiant. The women of Oksana G haunt the heart.

A decidedly cinematic pattern of recurring cutaway sketches set in remote hometown Kostychany, loved ones tortured by loss, heightens the opera’s already hypertense resonance to almost unendurable proportions.

Director Tom Diamond brings a sharp degree of acute observation to Oksana G’s broad creative horizons, reducing a cast that totals 50 plus players to a panorama of distinctive individuals. The wide screen scope of the Murphy/Gervais theatrical canvas is made touchingly personal, the sweep of emotion subtly and intricately charted. The scene of Father Alexander playing with the refugee children that opens Act II raises a smile, so very touching and tender. The simple, wordless act of Oksana and priest partnering one another in an innocent Ukranian folkdance speaks volumes, their loneliness and mutual need for affection poignantly expressed.

With monoset by designer Teresa Przybylski, a quasi henge of abstract uprights made starkly emphatic by lighting designer Jason Hand’s coloured washes, mood and atmosphere are given vibrant visual equivalency. The bar scene in Greece is particularly evocative, a picture of evil as glossy enterprise.

Music is far more than mere accompaniment in Oksana G. Gervais’ spiky, jagged score is an unsettling organic experience. If evidence of stylistic unity seems somewhat elusive at first hearing, the feeling of ad hoc composition becomes much less of a sticking point as the evening progresses. With the exception of isolated moments of wrap-around tonality, chromaticism and dissonance are front and centre, assembled into a far more deconstructed ground plan than opera generally demands. Instruments increasingly shed their conventional musical identities, becoming pure naked sound. Harmony and discord battle for dominance. Janáček and Berg are very much present, Jenůfa and Wozzeck nervously circling each other, music on edge.

Conductor Jordan de Souza leads a superbly disciplined 15-player chamber orchestra, collectively shocking and astonishing, frequently at the same time.

Cast in the headliner role of Oksana, Ukraninan Canadian soprano Natalya Gennadi brings a boundless depth of pathos to her character, a naïve, innocent country girl savagely trapped, her body hurled into hell. This is an exceptionally young artist, a singer actor glimpsed at the outset of her career, fresh, spontaneous, exploding with energy, her voice sparkling and bright with a remarkable loft that belies its lightness. Tracking  Oksana’s journey from innocence to terror to catharsis and self-belief, Gennadi flings herself headlong into the darkness, carrying us with her, in a brave, uplifting performance. We listen and watch and we are shattered.

Appearing as Father Alexander, tenor Adam Fisher provides Oksana G with its all important centre of good, an anchor of humanity, a focus for hope. Singing with gorgeous ringing Italianate tone, the versatile lead consistently commands attention. Fisher’s handling of the selfless priest’s intensely heartfelt arietta, Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, a pressing plea for guidance in a monstrous world, is a flash of rare, shining beauty on stage.

Fellow tenor Keith Klassen is Konstantin, malevolent, charismatic, complex. With his distinctive polished top and baritonal lower range, the engaging Toronto-based principal reaches far below the surface of the quintessentially demonic villain, turning the character’s irreparably damaged soul inside out. With a quiet murmur, “Mama”, Konstantin dies. It is an electrifying moment supercharged with subtext. Klassen makes us understand.

Jacqueline Woodley is Natalia, purity slaughtered. Aaron Sheppard is Pavlo, her baffled beau. Krisztina Szabó is Oksana’s frantic mother, Sofiya. Alexander Hajek is her uncomprehending husband, Yuri. Kimberly Barber is Asa, oracle and fortune teller. Andrea Ludwig is Lyuba, Oksana’s fiery friend from Kos. Cairan Ryan is the blood-curdling Immigration Officer.

The vibrancy of vocal expression, lights up to fade out, at all levels of characterization, shared by each and every player here is nothing short of extraordinary.

Oksana G has many faces, all reflected in the eyes of one young woman. Her story as told in Tapestry Opera’s haunting and harrowing piece echoes through the mind. It cannot and must not be forgotten.