Fine Arts

Moby-Dick by Jake Heggie

Dallas Opera, April 30, May 2, 5, 8, 13, and 16

Winspear Opera House, Dallas, Texas

Review by Dean Cassella

Those who liked Fort Worth Opera’s production of Dean Man Walking last year are in for a treat. Jake Heggie’s latest magnum opus, an adaption of Herman Melville’s classic novel, Moby-Dick, reveals a composer who’s depth and sophistication is growing with time, and the music world is the better for it. Heggie’s musical imagination is beginning to approach the sublime, and one can only hope that it will continue on this trajectory.

As I have said elsewhere, Heggie was already a supreme orchestrator with Dead Man Walking. The prelude and finale to Moby-Dick have a magical character that is highly reminiscent of Wagner’s Prelude to Parsifal, and I think it’s fair to say that the orchestration resides in a late Wagnerian frame of reference with, naturally enough, touches of Der Fliegende Holländer put in for good measure. The score successfully generates the atmosphere of the sea, but without resorting to a musical vocabulary that would come across as quaint or hackneyed in a modern context. Heggie and librettist Gene Scheer manage to keep the pacing and action very high; this is all the more remarkable, given the prolixity of its source.

Tenor Ben Heppner and Captain Ahab

The cast is headed by superstar heldentenor Ben Heppner as Captain Ahab. Heppner is perhaps best known to opera audiences for his interpretation of the lead role in the Met’s DVD of Tristan.

This is Heppner’s debut in TDO, and his performance was a knockout, made all the more impressive that he did so while limping around on a stilt for the entire performance. As one could expect, he successfully weds a refined articulation and sensitivity to sheer power; it would, no doubt, be a treat to see him perform Tristan in the flesh.

Foremost among the supporting cast was tenor Stephen Costello as Greenhorn/Ishmael. It is perhaps fair to describe Costello as a regular singer at TDO, who has recently been heard in Dallas in The Merry Widow and Roberto Devereux. His voice still retains the youthful sweetness that can make young maidens’ hearts melt.

Like Verdi’s Otello (another tale of the sea), Moby-Dick depicts a decidedly masculine world. In the case of Moby, though, there is no real love interest, as the work takes place entirely on ship board. Consequently, the only female voice to be heard is in the “trouser” role of Pip, the cabin boy, which places a heavy burden on the singer of the role. Soprano Talise Trevigne meets it square on with a beautiful, yet powerful voice that never falters.

Soprano Talise Trevigne as Pip

As one could expect with a world premiere, the sets and staging were absolutely fabulous. The set consisted of the opera world’s most highly raked stage, constructed of white boards which doubled as a projection screen for some very effective animated projections.

An Animated Sequence of Ahab's Ship, The Pequod

It was also outfitted wit climbing apparatus, which allowed members of the chorus to climb partially up it and become part of the animated sequences.

Veteran conductor Patrick Summers, who has conducted all of Heggie’s premieres, did a fine job at the podium, and can be said to have some unique insights into the latter’s music. Finally, the chorus, headed as always by TDO’s Alexander Rom, really shined in Moby, whose maritime theme lends itself so well to choral flourishes.

All in all, this production is living proof that opera is no longer a “dead” art form, but may actually be heading into a genuine revival. Let us hope that Heggie continues to employ tonality in his new works and positively influences other composers to follow his lead.

Next up: Puccini’s Madame Butterfly< >< ><–>

Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House, Dallas, February 19 21, 24, 27, March 5 and 7, 2010

Review by Dean Cassella

TDO’s mid-season offering is a delightful production of Don Pasquale, Donizetti’s most perennially favorite foray into opera buffa.  The work offers a relatively light breathing space between the comic but musically heavy Così Fan Tutte and what is sure to be heavy melodrama in Jake Heggie’s Moby Dick in April.

Chronologically speaking, Donizetti is the last of the great maestri in the line of Italian opera composers who worked firmly in the opera buffa tradition (Mozart’s comedies are, by contrast, among the earliest canonized examples).  This genre tends to focus on ridiculous, often scurrilous plots in contemporary settings that are full of stock characters, mistaken identities, etc.  Music wise, they tend toward florid vocal acrobatics which goes by the moniker coloratura singing.

The title character in Don Pasquale is a seventy-year old man who decides he is going to marry and produce heirs, in order to disinherit his nephew, Ernesto.  Ernesto, who is in love with a feisty young widow named Norina, plots with her and Pasquale’s physician, Dr. Malatesta, to convince the Don that she is a perfectly demure virginal bride, only to turn into an obnoxious and demanding spendthrift the moment the Don signs a mock marriage contract.  I’m sure my readers can see where this is all heading. . .  In a way, the role of Norina is really a refashioning of Rosina, the cunning, conniving belle of Rossini’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia¸ who also shares with Norina the obstacle of an old man who wishes to marry her for all the wrong reasons.

Donato DiStefano in the Title Role of Don Pasquale

Veteran basso Donato DiStefano takes the title role, and his performance is brilliant.  DiStefano is an absolute master of buffa roles, and has graced the TDO stage twice in recent memory: as Don Magnifico in 2004’s La Cenerentola (Cinderella), and in 2006 as Doctor Bartolo in Il Barbiere di Siviglia. He possesses masterful control over a rich, sonorous voice, and is unsurpassed as an actor.  In one of the earlier of his aria’s he performs a ‘strip tease’, as hilarious as it is ridiculous, as he contemplates the first meeting with his prospective bride.

Adriana Kucerova as the Scheming Young Widow Norina

Don Pasquale is a work that has only four heavy singing roles, and only one for a woman.  This makes the role of Norina doubly demanding.  In all honesty, Slovak soprano Adriana Kucerova,  a first-timer to TDO, is one of the most compelling singers I have seen live.  Her voice is at once delicate and powerful, and resonates with a hypnotic vibrato, over which she has absolute control.  She is also a fabulous comic actress and strikingly beautiful, to boot.  We can only hope that she will be returning to the Metroplex soon.

Indianan baritone Nathan Gunn did a fine job in the role of scheming troublemaker, Dr. Malatesta.  In addition to a solid voice, he acted the role with finesse.  Virginian tenor Norman Shankle was solid as the smitten young nephew, Ernesto.  His voice at times seemed thin, though; in his final duet with Kucerova, his voice was sometimes overpowered by the latter’s.

Guest conductor Stefano Ranzani’s conducting was very precise and lively, and the maestro handled the score throughout with grace.    Direction by TDO veteran Candace Evans was solid and sometimes even brilliant; at times, though, the visual pacing seemed to drag and occasionally one got the impression that the singers should have done something more than simply standing while facing the audience and sing.  This was in contrast to the lively direction she has given to TDO in recent years (e.g. The Merry Widow and Ariadne auf Naxos).

The sets, designed by the long deceased Jean-Pierre Ponnelle, are lovely, and just what one could expect: elegant, multi-storied affairs that adhere closely to the librettist’s intentions.  One can hardly ask for more.

To conclude, the production was a lot of fun.  The plot and music is highly accessible and thus Don Pasquale would be an ideal way to introduce someone to opera.  I attended the premiere with a thirteen year old boy, who loved it.  He was especially impressed with DiStefano’s take on the Don.  And as for his impression of the Winspear Opera House: “What a cool building!!!”

The Dallas Opera: February 12, 14, 18, 20, 26, & 28, 2010

Winspear Opera House

Review by Dean Cassella

This second production in the Dallas Opera’s first season in its new home was just what the doctor ordered, especially after the sumptuous and heavy fare served up with Verdi’s Otello at the season premiere.  Although one could certainly could not label Mozart’s last opera buffa collaboration with librettist Lorenzo da Ponte musically light, it does deliver laughs in some of the most sumptuous and delightful music that Mozart composed.

Originally set in eighteenth-century Naples, the plot centers around a case of deliberate mistaken identity between two pairs of lovers.  Two young men, Ferrando and Guglielmo are in the throes of young love with Fiordiligi and Dorabella.  A cynical old man, Don Alfonso, taunts them that it is impossible for women to remain faithful, should the men leave the scene for a while.  The resulting argument ends with a wager: Ferrando and Guglielmo will pretend to be called off for military duty, only to return in the guise of two Albanians and each actively try to court the other’s belle.

Jeffry Jones as Austrian Emperor Joseph II in the famous 1984 movie "Amadeus."

The opera was commissioned by none other than the Austrian Emperor Joseph II, best known in popular culture from the play/movie Amadeus.

This was Mozart’s third and last collaboration with Lorenzo da Ponte, a Venetian Jew who, as a child, converted to Christianity, took holy orders, and was eventually ran out of town for taking . . .liberties . . .with certain lady friends.  He then led a semi nomadic life, cutting a swath across Europe to London, and eventually settling in New York City as a greengrocer, and as the first professor of Italian at Columbia University (he also established the first Italian opera company in New York).  His collaborations with Mozart occurred early in his wanderings, when he was living in Vienna and trying to make his inroads in the Imperial court as a poet and librettist.  The story of Così was a allegedly based on a real incident that was making the rounds in Vienna at the time.

Last time around, the Winspear Opera House demonstrated marvelous acoustics with a full-sized late Romantic era orchestra.  The current production makes use of a comparatively tiny chamber orchestra, which poses a different set of resonance challenges.  I am delighted to report that the new opera house was able to handle these to remarkable effect.  Graeme Jenkin’s stately phrasing was carried with both a volume and a warmth that I have rarely heard in a full-size opera house.

Così is unusual in that there are only six roles which are very carefully balanced.  Soprano Elza van den Heever and mezzo-soprano Jennifer Holloway, as Fiordiligi and Dorabella respectively, have beautifully matched voices.  Miss van den Heever also displays considerable skills as an actress, and Miss Holloway, who graced the TDO stage last season with her interpretation of the love-sick Cherubino in La Nozze di Figaro, treated us to her wonderfully lilting vibrato.  Italian soprano Nuccia Focile sang a beautiful rendition of Despina, the cynical, deadpan maid who serves as a female counterpart to Don Alfonso, and who often reminds me of Alice Kramden on the Honeymooners.  Her petite stature helped to enrich the comic potential when she dresses up as a quack doctor and a notary during Act II.

The real star of this performance, though was the illustrious bass-baritone Sir Thomas Allen who, after almost 40 years on the boards of the worlds major opera houses, boasts a rich, powerful voice and a magisterial presence whenever he is on stage.  Tenor Brian Anderson as Ferrando, and baritone Michael Todd Simpson also did commendable jobs in their roles.

Robert Perdziola’s sets recast the time to around 1910.  The main set resembles an Egyptian-style casino, or hotel, lends itself to the time period it seeks to evoke.  I generally prefer sticking to the librettist’s original intentions, but the change in question does not seriously interfere with the work’s enjoyment in any way.

All in all, this is a fine production and one definitely worth seeing.

Next up: Donizetti’s Don Pasquale!

This endearing Bollywood film came out in 2007 and takes place in trains, homes and in the Himalayas, starring two fresh-faced young people with the high energy and lack of self-knowledge you’d expect from people their age.  As I write that, I rather shudder, thinking that calling them “young people” puts me outside that jurisdiction. And yet, I think that is how the film works, by allowing the viewer to feel like a more knowledgeable person, to sense the inner sentiments of the actors long before they themselves figure it all out. The audience has the experience of simultaneously knowing where this is all leading and watching it unfold. It’s like going through your own youth again, without the pain and uncertainty. Disapproving parents, mistaken feelings, song and dance numbers and beautiful costumes and scenery round out the usual Bollywood Calgon-take-me-away routine.

Aditya, a young man of great wealth but little happiness, is played by Shahid Kapoor. I don’t know why but I was completely won over by the spectacles he wore, which seemed to symbolize his emotional vulnerability and his ability to look out but not in. Kareena Kapoor plays Geet, a girl whose impulses are completely ungovernable, whose overdone eye makeup suggests that she does everything with over-great enthusiasm, an assumption not disproved in the film.

As the film opens, Aditya’s “true love” marries someone else and he leaves his friends, his business, and his home in Bombay and gets on a midnight train going, as the song says, “anywhere.” He meets Geet and finds her so irritating that he decides to get off in a whistle stop town somewhere in the Indian countryside — it’s dark, so you never know where they are — and she follows him against his wishes.  They wind up in a number of amusing situations, such as with a crazy taxi driver with dashboard cartoonishly embellished with garlands, or in a hostelry, the “Motel Decent,” which rents room by the hour, the significance of which Geet completely misunderstands.  By the time Aditya brings Geet to her family home in North India, they are friends but nothing more and Geet plans to elope with someone else. Nevertheless, her grandfather, when he meets the two, acuses Aditya of being Geet’s love interest, and says sternly, “When you’ve reached my age, you can always see what’s going on.”

In the rest of the film, the viewer gets to find out if the grandfather is indeed right. The movie seems to subscribe to the philosophy that “some things are just meant to be and will happen whether you want them too or not.” In this context, that’s a comforting, not a disturbing notion. I recommend this film to all romantics anywhere who can get subtitles in their language.

Lately we’ve been on a passage to India around here almost every night — Bollywood India. I wrote about it before — see the reviews of Om Shanti Om, Eklavya, and Jodhaa Ackbar. Now most recently we have watched Veer-Zaara (2004) the story of a star-crossed love between an Indian pilot and the daughter of a Pakastani politician.

The usual Bollywood elements — beautiful scenery, exotic characters, plot-driven narrative, song and dance numbers — are all present. What makes this film most unusual is its utter unpredictability. You really don’t know what is going to happen next. And you do care, because the characters somehow, despite their initially stock nature, do seem more human than the usual. The framing of the story from 22 years later, after one character’s life has been, it would seem, utterly destroyed only adds to the suspense, as does an included courtroom drama involving an ethical woman lawyer and a member of the “old boy” network of India.

Also typically Bollywood in its length — about three hours — the star of the film is Shahruk Khan, Indian movie star and billionaire film producer known for posing with his shirt off in tight jeans as well as for portraying romantic heroes for whom no suffering is too great.

Bollywood seems flooded with love stories, seemingly doomed love stories between Muslims and Hindus, rich and poor, people whose families hate each other, people who were already promised, by their parents, to someone they hardly know — the plot possibilities are endless, especially when you throw in the Hindu belief in reincarnation. But I can’t remember any such movie we’ve watched — we must have seen more than a dozen now — with more surprises than this one.  And it’s the surprises, somehow, and the characters, that make movies worth watching.  So hats off to Indian film for providing these dramas that last longer than American films, believe in more than American films, and aren’t afraid to layer on the glamour and pathos — sometimes you need a little bit of that. Viva Bollywood! Here’s the trailer — only in Hindi, sorry, couldn’t find an English version. The movie itself, of course, is subtitled.

Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House, Dallas, Oct. 23, 25, 28, 31, Nov. 5 & 8, 2009

Review by Dean Cassella

Well, this HAD to be good, and good it was!  The event in question was not only the commencement of a new Dallas Opera season, but the premiere of the company’s new venue: the Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House (see below).

The cast of this new production of Verdi’s Otello (based on the Shakespeare’s play of jealousy and revenge) is perhaps the closest I have ever seen to being perfect.  Dramatic tenor Clifton Forbis, who sings the title role, has a voice that is phenomenally rich and penetrating.  One can dream of hearing him sing Tristan, which has done with distinction in Paris and Chicago.

Baritone Lado Ataneli, a native of Georgia (the country, that is!), in the role of the scheming materialist/agnostic Iago, was the perfect lower register match for Forbis, and their duet at the end of Act II (‘Si, pel cielo marmoreo giuro’) falls short of being described as a “match made in heaven” only because of the subject matter.

Otello is very much a ‘guy’ thing, as it deals heavily with masculine responses to jealousy and ambition.  Consequently, there are only two female roles in the work, and the prima donna part, that of Desdemona, the ill-fated wife of Otello, does not really come into its own until Act III.  There, Montreal native soprano Alexandra Deshorties sang beautifully, although on a few occasions her resonant voice was in danger of being drowned out by the orchestra.  Her duets with Forbis were as well-matched as were Forbis’ and Ataneli’s.

All supporting cast members, most notably tenor Sean Pannikar in the role of Cassio, were outstanding, and no doubt deliver fine performances in heavier roles elsewhere.

Conductor Graeme Jenkins was in generally superb form, and gave the distinct impression of enjoying the sound of ‘his’ new theater—perhaps a little too zealously, at times (heaven forbid that we have been harboring a repressed Herbert von Karajan all this time!!).

The sets, designed by Brit Anthony Baker, update the story from fifteenth-century Cyprus to Verdi’s own nineteenth century.  This is vaguely reminiscent of a similar updating of Wagner’s maritime opera Die Fliegende Holländer by Harry Kupfer at Bayreuth in the early 1980’s (and available on DVD).  The stark, concrete and iron sets are also reminiscent of Jake Heggie’s Dead Man Walking, done by FW Opera last season.  (N.B. a new Heggie work, Moby Dick, will be premiered later in the Dallas Opera season)

With the Winspear, Opera House, located in the AT&T Performing Arts Center in the Arts District of Dallas (directly across from the Meyerson Symphony Hall), the Dallas Opera has ended over six decades of wandering in the desert (i.e. Fair Park Music Hall), and at last has come to the promised land.  As most of my readers are aware, there has always been a sense of competitiveness between Dallas and Fort Worth.  One area of pride for aesthetically sensitive Fort Worthians has been in the fine arts.  For those of us who patronize both the Fort Worth Opera and the Dallas Opera there could be no doubt that, although the former is a smaller company, there could be no comparison in regard to venues: Bass Performance Hall is a real opera house, while Fair Park Music Hall is a bloated monstrosity, best left to heavily amplified fare.

The new Dallas house now changes that dynamic, and does so in very interesting ways.  The Winspear almost seems to function as an alter ego of Bass Hall in a manner completely in keeping with the two cities’ contrasting outlooks.  Bass Hall, for example, is predominantly white, inside and out, and has a decidedly retro art-deco look.  The Winspear, by contrast, is decidedly post-modern (or post post-modern, if you will).  At night, the predominant colors are deep red and black, and the interior of the hall is very dark indeed.

And whereas the ceiling of Bass Hall sports a fresco of the daytime sky, the Winspear’s ceiling has a chandelier that, when retracted, looks like evening stars.

According to chief architect, Spencer de Grey, the transparency of the building is an attempt to break down the intimidation factor with potential new audience members.  The idea is to make opera more accessible to a wider audience.  I am not convinced that they are successful in this, because even I, a veteran culture snob, found the building to be a little intimidating upon first entering.  And although I am happy to see the giant-sized candy bars and skittles left behind at the Fair Park concession vendors, their replacements: comparatively rarified snacks such as chocolate covered strawberries, etc., only serve to up the ante in the feel of exclusivity.

In regard to acoustics, the Winspear has some of the finest I have ever heard.  During the opening ceremonies, Don Winspear asked the members of the audience whether they had ever heard opera at Fair Park.  In response to the giggles, the orchestra played a very quiet rendition of the opening bars of the Prelude to Wagner’s Die Meistersinger.  This was followed shortly thereafter by an open-throttle replay that, should the theater have been open-air, would have felled birds unfortunate enough to be flying overhead.  I don’t think that I have ever heard an orchestra located under the stage produce such well-rounded volume.  No doubt, this will keep those fortunate enough to sing at the Winspear on their toes!  By the way, the acoustics at the Winspear cry out desperately for WAGNER!!!!  It is definitely the time for the company to strut its stuff with a new production of the Ring cycle and perhaps (hint, hint. . .) the triumphant return of Clifton Forbis as Tristan.

After enjoying so much the before-reviewed Jodhaa Akbar Dean decided to order another Indian film from Netflix — the suspenseful Eklavya (2007, Oscar-nominated for Best Foreign Film). No romance this, really — more like a drama of family secrets, betrayals and score-settlings that centers around the near-perfect loyalty of Eklavya, a royal guard, and his need to meet his dharma, his purpose in life, of protecting his king at any cost. Threats arise  both from low-caste farmers over land rights and from the king’s own extended family.

Amitabh Bachchan plays a loyal palace guard with a tortured soul in "Eklavya"

The word “dharma” comes from the word “hold.” According to my simplified understanding, one’s dharma represents a kind of supernatural hold on them. The dharma asserts a person’s place in the universe, and by holding to one’s dharma an individual is by extension “holding” everything together. Eklavya has dedicated his entire life to the purpose of a single dharma given him by his mother upon his father’s death — he is to defend his king at all costs, or, as she says, “nine generations of our family will burn in Hell.”

Now an old man, Eklavya’s sight is growing dim, so that his detractors begin to mock his ability to protect the king. But his hearing is as keen as ever. Blindfolded, he can throw a knife straight to its mark by listening alone.

The family which he serves has its own secret desires and acts of vengence, and a palace guard like Eklavya cannot hold himself apart. Long before the movie opened, he became entwined and entrapped within the intrigue — and now it seems he will have to sacrifice either his dharma or that earthly relationship which is most sacred to him.

Yes, there will be murders in this film — yes, people will have mixed character, so that at moments you will not know whether a person is good or bad. Scenes of the palace are both stirring for their beauty, and haunting when tales of the cruelty the building has sheltered arise — and, as in a good suspense film, vengeance will be taken on the wrongdoers.

I never did quite "get" Poldark.

Back in the old days, when I was a teenager, my parents would watch Masterpiece Theater and I just knew there was something strange going on. My teenaged mind wanted to know, who cared about history, American, English or Continental, enough to watch movies about it after school was out? And what was so interesting about this Poldark guy who had so many dramatic problems which he brought upon himself anyway?

The characters in my parents’ movies wore period costumes and talked in a strange accent. There was no soundtrack of exciting background music and the sets were all in England, either grey healther covered moors or grey castles, which looked depressing.

And now, years later, here are Dean and I sitting around watching historical movies while the kids ask us why we are doing this. Do I feel nervous seeing what’s going on? Yes.

This movie was every bit as romantic and exotic as the poster suggested.

I would like to say in my defense that the current crop of historical movies have 1) unbelievable sets b) high production values, c) exciting sound tracks, d) stirring battle scenes and e) attractive actors and actresses. In these regards, they totally eclipse Masterpiece Theater.

So, yes, we watch historical dramas, long ones, just like my parents.  Our taste runs to the HBO Rome Series, Showtime’s The Tudors, or the movie we finished last night, Jodhaa Akbar, which was perhaps my favorite, which was made in India.

Why is it my favorite? Well for one thing check out the hero, Hrithik Roshan, the handsomest guy I’ve seen in a movie since … a long time ago. Perhaps its the pale eyes that got me. The leading lady, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, is stunning as well. Apparently, Hollywood has no monopoly on incredibly beautiful people.

A historical romance/adventure story set in 16th century India, the predictable part of the movie concerns that young emperor’s efforts at consolidation of his empire and the constant problem of seditions friends, relatives, and advisors. The romantic part is far more unusual; although Jodhaa and Jalai are married (arranged without her consent) she won’t let him anywhere near her. She has her standards, both religious and personal, and she expects her husband to win her heart personally, not through arrangement with her father. If Jalai is ever to have an heir he will have to succeed in capturing her heart.

I’m sure romance novelists have come up with this plot hundreds of times, in books I would not have read, but here, in this movie, it worked for me. And Dean watched it too, giving the conquest/violence/sedition part of the movie credit for the “best fight scene he’d come across in years.”

Masterpiece theater it is not. But if you like romance, adventure, palace intrigue, and incredible sets this might be a good choice. What’s more, the  movie is current available on Netflix “watch it tonight” online streaming.  I highly recommend it, and may be watching it (again) tonight myself.

The sculpture is being installed in Byers Green on Camp Bowie.

FORT WORTH – If you’ve recently driven by Byers Green, the triangular green space at the intersection of Byers Avenue and Camp Bowie Boulevard, you’ve probably noticed the dirt is flying.

Earth Fountain, a public art project by artist Philippe Klinefelter, will consist of a nine-foot diameter granite orb, with a fountain of water flowing smoothly out of three openings in its hollowed center.

Carved out of a single, 30-ton block of Texas Sunset Red granite (the same granite used in the Tarrant County Courthouse), the fountain echoes the color of the Thurber brick used to pave Camp Bowie Boulevard. The sculpture will be installed into a specially designed concrete basin at the western end of the green space.

The sculpture’s design was inspired by how water comes from, shapes, and returns to the earth. The three openings in the sculpture are related to the angles of the three adjacent streets. The water flows out of the three openings over a carved, scaled representation of the local topography. Klinefelter carved the massive sculpture by hand in his Austin studio.

Fort Worth Public Art and Urban Green, a local nonprofit, teamed up for the project. Urban Green, an organization that works to improve public green spaces throughout the city, entered into an “Adopt A Park” agreement with the city for the Byers Green median. Urban Green is underwriting improvements to the site that include irrigation, electricity and pathways to the sculpture. Click for a plan of the Earth Fountain site.

The City of Fort Worth’s public art program commissioned Earth Fountain for Byers Green as part of its Long Range Public Art Plan for the 2004 CIP. The entire project is expected to be completed in June and the public will be invited to an unveiling celebration.

The Arts Council of Fort Worth & Tarrant County administers the city’s public art program. Fort Worth Public Art creates an enhanced visual environment for Fort Worth residents, commemorates the city’s rich cultural and ethnic diversity, integrates the design work of artists into the development of the city’s capital infrastructure improvements, and promotes tourism and economic vitality in the city through the artistic design of public spaces. To learn more, visit www.fwpublicart.org.

By Dean Cassella

I always look forward to seeing new incarnations of the Star Trek franchise, and this latest film, simply titled Star Trek, was no exception.  Although many disliked the last series, Enterprise, I had found it to be a refreshing change from the saccharine characters oft to be found in Voyager and, at times, Next Generation. Enterprise attempted to go back to the early, swashbuckling “cowboy diplomacy” days of the original series. So, for me the idea of extending the theme to a kind of prequel of the The Original Series was appealing. The film seems to have generated a lot of positive reviews (Rotten Tomatoes has given it 95%).

When I took my two older boys (ages 12 and 14) to see it, I was expecting, if anything, a thrilling ride. The opening of the film—it turns out that Captain Kirk was born on an escape pod in deep space—piqued my interest and then . . . it was all downhill from there. 

You may ask why I took to disliking the film, especially when almost everybody else seems to love it? This calls for a bit of explanation, so please bear with me.

Among university teachers today there is a term that is occasionally bandied about: the “digital natives.” These are the current freshmen and sophomores who were raised from the youngest age with the internet, ipods, text-messaging, etc. It has been said that they have a particularly difficult time focusing on anything that is not delivered in an electronic format, and even when it is electronic, their attention span is very short indeed. Such young adults, for example, tend to describe ‘old’ films (i.e. those produced before they were born) as “boring.” I suspect this is a result of constant exposure to video games and film editing that make the two-second-per-cut TV commercials of yesteryear appear glacially slow by comparison.  

I would further add that the hallmark feature of the digital natives’ primary and secondary education has been a steady diet of self-esteem training. Such young people tend to have an aggressively positive view of their supposed academic/professional accomplishments, and often become impatient with anybody who suggests otherwise. With many of these young adults, to insist upon correct grammar or the use of non-internet based sources when writing essays brings frustrated accusations of pedantry against teachers. Learning how to express oneself in an articulate, grammatically correct manner appears to many of them to be a waste of time. Moreover, failure to learn how to do these things supposedly will have no bearing on the exciting, high-paying careers they believe are their due.

Obviously, not every young person conforms to this dreary scenario (I have had some excellent students from this group in my own classes), but the effects can definitely be seen everyday at the State U.

So what, you may ask, does this have to do with Star Trek? Quite simply, I find the film to be mythmaking for the digital natives. The producers of Star Trek want us to believe that James Kirk was essentially a hard-drinking, muscle car/motorcycle driving yahoo with a criminal record, before deciding to sign up with Star Fleet. His recruiter, Captain Pike, explains that this is just the type of person that Star Fleet needs. The situation reminds me of a friend’s wry assessment of Terminator II at its premiere run: “white trash people save the Earth!!” Although the film barely alludes to Kirk’s three years in the academy (how boring!), we are rest assured that his extremely high aptitude scores more than compensated for his deviant misbehavior. 

I have yet to speak to a parent whose child was doing poorly in school that did not claim that said child was ‘brilliant’ but simply lacked the focus and motivation to do outstanding academic work. 

Mr. Spock, as it turns out, was a rebel in his own right. Understandably touchy about his half-human origins in a society as racist as is that of the Vulcans, Spock over compensates by throwing himself into his studies, and by striving to be an über-Vulcan. All this is well and good, until almost everybody, including his own father and his older self (thanks to yet another breach in the time-space continuum . . .yawn . . .) urges him to get in touch with his emotions! One of the most well-defined traits of the Vulcans in the Star Trek universe is that they systematically repress their emotions: to do otherwise results in a return to brutal savagery. Consider what happened to T’Pol in Enterprise when a charming rebel Vulcan talked her into getting in touch with herself and quitting her meditations … she became violent! But in modern ideology, getting in touch with your feelings and ‘letting go’ is a necessary prelude to brilliance.

There are other such problems with characterization throughout the cast of characters. One example must suffice for now: Uhura (who in the Original Series was a refined and genteel lady) is now an alcoholic. I do not see any other way to interpret her first appearance in the film, wherein she walks into a bar and orders several drinks for herself, to be filled all at once. The scene cannot help but remind me of the binge drinking problem that plagues American college campuses. In digital native lore, women are supposed to be able to hold their liquor as well as men can (no matter if this flies in the face of current research in both science and social science) and hedonism never gets in the way of brilliant accomplishment.

The film’s idea of moving into high action is to ask us to believe that a whole motley crew of greenhorns (the only seasoned officer of any note on the bridge is Captain Pike, and Mr. Sulu does not even know how to disengage the emergency brake of the Enterprise!) sets out on its maiden voyage to answer a distress call from the planet Vulcan. Pike is quickly dispatched, which then leads to a power struggle for command of the ship between Kirk and Spock.  It should be added that Kirk is, for all intents and purposes, a stowaway who was barred from participating due to misbehavior at the Academy. In the end, it turns out that the raw recruits save the day, and Kirk is transformed from a court-marshaled lieutenant to captain of the ship literally overnight. 

Now that’s what many people today, particularly, I would argue, young people, want to hear. Raw talent, which, due to self-esteem training seems to be in enormous abundance (think of Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegone “where every kid is above average”), will cover any number of follies and indiscretions, and catapult the bearer to superstardom. Although the original Captain Kirk was on the impulsive side, it was also true that he was a very hardworking and disciplined young man (how could he have been otherwise?) I distinctly remember him describing himself as drearily serious at the academy. If I were on the crew of the Enterprise, the new Kirk would inspire no confidence in me whatsoever, simply because it would be obvious that he was going to get himself killed, and me along with him.

The acting in the film was, overall, quite good, but the editing is so fast that it is sometimes hard to focus on the story. Even at those brief moments when two people are merely talking each other, the camera has to swirl around them in a frenetic way. 

In conclusion, the film may well prove to be the perfect symbol of American culture and society as it makes the transition from its Silver Age to its Bronze Age. Let us hope that, for us, there is someone left responsible enough to steer the ship.