A fusion of new and old takes the stage this week with Metachroma Theatre’s inaugural production, Richard III, brought alive through a contemporary spin on a Shakespearean classic. As Montreal’s newest theatre company, Metachroma aims not only to pay homage to he Bard, but also to make a cultural statement that resonates with the modern audience. The concept of “beyond colour”—the literal translation of the Latin words “meta” and “chroma”—has unified actors and actresses of visible minorities from around the city to take up roles traditionally denied to them.

For actress Julie Tamiko Manning, this unity is part of the fun of getting involved. Manning, who plays Clarence, in addition to the Duchess of York, a bishop, and a soldier (she plays both the characters of mother and son), is a founding member of the company and has witnessed the production’s evolution. “I’ve lived in Montreal for 20 years and there aren’t a lot of opportunities for actors of colour,” she says, making light of an ironic dilemma. Indeed, it is surprising that in a space as diverse as Montreal, visible minorities still remain underrepresented on the main stage.

Azeem Nathoo, another cast member, had no problem finding representation as an actor of colour when he lived in Britain. “Here, when I came back, I realized we were behind,” he says, referring to the traditional North American preconceptions of how actors should ‘look the part.’

In choosing Richard III for their first production, Metachroma Theatre invites the audience to forget colour, and simply, enjoy the show. “The story can be told by whomever,” says Manning. “It’s unnecessary for there to be a label.”

Instead, the company asks audience members to join them in untangling the complex web of deception and horror that is Richard III. An enduring tale that is as relevant today as it was during Shakespeare’s time, Richard III recounts the story of a man whose lust for power knows no bounds, and whose selfishness will cost him even more. He mercilessly cuts down anyone standing in his way, alienating an entire nation.

“The power struggle, the arrogance, it really resonates with today’s audience,” Manning says. Indeed, the dictatorship of Richard III continues to hold political salience, nearly 600 years after it took place.

Notably, McGill graduates are among the cast members. Nathoo, who studied economics and political science, has since found his true calling in the theatre world. Although he looks back fondly on his time at McGill, he adds a word of advice for McGill students who are thinking of dipping their feet in the acting industry: get proper training.

“I ended up going back into training. You need something like that,” says Nathoo, who became involved in his first production as a non-actor while studying at McGill.

While such devotion to the stage may not be for all of us,  Metachroma’s Richard III is perfect for those who are simply content with sitting back and admiring the art of theatre.

Richard III will run from September 19th to the 30th at the Segal Centre of Performing Arts, 5170 Côte-Ste-Catherine

When Christopher Hitchens learned that he was the subject of a prematurely written obituary at the outset of 2007, he decided to set down an autobiography before the corrected proof came in. The book came fast on the heels of his bestselling anti-theist tirade, God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything. Brimming with Hitchens’ customary eloquence, immutable moral certitude, and jaunty wit, the autobiography was an instant success.

On June 8, 2010, when he was due to double-bill both The Daily Show and the 92nd Street Y, Hitchens awoke to find he was barely breathing. Weeks later, the diagnosis was in: Hitchens had Stage Four esophageal cancer. As the author was fond of saying, there was no Stage Five.

For the next 19 months, Hitchens attacked life with furious, defiant abandon. Despite undergoing extensive debilitating treatments, his incendiary polemics in Slate continued, as did his prolific speaking engagements. In his last weeks, drifting between frail consciousness and morphine induced stupor, he composed an incisive essay on G.K. Chesterton, whose biographer he scolded for misinterpreting aspects of the man’s character. It was during this period that he wrote his final book.

Mortality is unlike any of Hitchens’ previous writings. In past works, Hitchens delivered beautiful analyses with an overwhelming  confidence, ranging from invectives against Mother Teresa to detailed examinations of George Orwell and Thomas Jefferson.  In Mortality, a distillation of Hitchens’ dying thoughts and observations loosely grouped into chapters, the writing feels less grounded. There’s no sense of this missing spirit in chapters centered on religion or torture; contemplations of that old lie, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” as well as cancer etiquette, however, evince a rare helplessness in the face of his characteristic self-assuredness. This chink in the stoic armour is precisely what makes the personal chapters, like that in which the author laments the loss of his voice, so affecting. Especially distressing is the final chapter, which consists of his fragmentary personal jottings—one cannot help but picture the waning author amidst a web of IVs, scrambling to write his final thoughts.

Nonetheless, Mortality is replete with the perspicacity which Hitchens’ readers have come to expect. The most perceptive writers tend to expand from the specific to the general, and Hitchens fills his pages with observations that use the immediately personal to glean something broader. His protracted discussion of his own medical treatment never borders on the solipsistic, and seems largely formulated to emphasize the maddening senselessness of those standing in the way of certain medical research. While fraternal accounts of similar cancers, such as that written by the British columnist John Diamond (the laudably honest C: Because Cowards Get Cancer Too) opt for a narrative, Hitchens refuses to tell a story—he has too many ideas to limit himself with a story arc.

Although his obituary ran on December 15, 2011, Hitchens always endeavored to write as if he were to be read posthumously. With Mortality, the first book published after his death, Hitchens is still flashing what his close friend Ian McEwan calls his “Rolls-Royce mind”—it’s just that he’s suddenly become more human.

Kevin Loring’s Where the Blood Mixes, winner of the 2009 Governor General’s Literary Award, has an intriguing simplicity in its outlook. Although the Teesri Duniya Theatre production foregrounds a realism with its sharp humour, Lib Spry’s direction helps the performance segue into the poetic.

The sombre play about the haunting legacy of Canadian First Nations residential schools is gradually infused with poignancy, as it depicts the reality of what the first peoples have gone through—and continue to experience—as a community.

The story is set in a First Nations community “where the two rivers meet, where the wind sings songs of the dead,” and where in the local bar, Floyd (Jeremy Proulx) and Mooch (Charles Bender) also meet as old drinking partners. From what seems like an elegantly simple scene, the play proceeds to unveil a layered depth. We soon discover that both characters are residential school survivors—an experience which neither has outlived as they continue to lead troubled lives. Mooch regularly steals money from his girlfriend, June (Emilee Veluz), to fund his drinking habits, while Floyd’s bitter disposition manifests itself in his refusal to reminisce with Mooch, even about the few good memories that they once shared.

Although the play frequently moves backwards in time, the characters’ wounded past is never directly addressed. Paradoxically, a play driven by series of anecdotes is characterized by a reluctance to speak­—or perhaps even a deliberate evasion of speaking—at least initially. This apparent stasis is finally broken when Floyd’s daughter Christine (Alarey Alsip), whom the state placed in the care of foster parents when she was still an infant, manages to get in touch with her father and decides to visit him. What follows is an outpouring of soul-wrenching confessions, a detailing of losses and reconciliations that are set off—with great surprise­—by a deluge of tears from Floyd, who, prior to his daughter’s arrival, remained callously stoic.

This act of storytelling provides the platform for healing and connecting. If Floyd and Mooch were to stay silent, their stories would die with them, and so would history. Throughout the play, numerous instances of comic dialogue ease the audience into emotionally-wraught situations, while several heartfelt scenes provide the piece with a beauty that saves it from being all too distressing. Though the content of the play may seem like a melancholic endeavour to watch, it ultimately ends in hope as the community discovers the voice of common humanity.

Artistic Director Rahul Varma described it as a “message that needs to be heard over and over again.” The message is one that is both touching and valuable, highlighting Canada’s First Nations cultural heritage, one which should never be forgetten.

Teesri Duniya’s production of Where the Blood Mixes runs Wed-Sat at 8pm, with weekend matinees at 2pm, until Sept. 30th, Centre Culturel Calixa-Lavaleé (3819 Calixa-Lavaleé). Student tickets are $12.

This past Saturday, Opéra de Montréal opened its 2012-2013 season with Verdi’s La Traviata. The opera tells the story of two lovers, Violetta and Alfredo, whose public love affair brings great shame to Alfredo’s family. After an unexpected visit from Alfredo’s father, Violetta realizes the detrimental consequences of her love affair on his family’s honour, and she leaves Alfredo. Alfredo mistakes her sudden departure for infidelity, and humiliates her in front of many close friends and family, including Alfredo’s own father. Some time later, Alfredo finally learns the truth about Violetta’s sacrifice, and rushes back to her side to apologize. Violetta, however, is dying from a serious illness, and Alfredo finds himself in a race against time.

“It’s really the story of a great love affair,” says Opéra de Montréal’s artistic director Michel Beaulac, “[It’s about] people who weren’t really meant to socially blend … to live together, to fall in love with one another, but they do, and … before she dies, all of the characters—the father, the son who is in love with Violetta—they all realize that finally, all of those social differences have no importance, and that this separation should have never taken place.”

La Traviata was written in 1853, during a phase in which Verdi wrote an opera approximately every nine months. This creative spree resulted in what is now known as his ‘popular trilogy’ of opera works—Rigoletto, Il Trovatore, and La Traviata. In the past two years, Opéra de Montréal has performed both Rigoletto (2010), and Il Trouvadore (2011), and concludes its presentation of Verdi’s trilogy with this week’s performances.

Few may grasp the amount of work required for such an elaborate production. “Before we go on stage, we start building the set; we mount the lighting equipment … and we start planning the sequence of when the set changes are going to take place, how they are going to take place, and how many members of the stage crew are going to be necessary to make this operation possible,” Beaulac said. “The most important roles are sung by artists who have done the roles several times, so they all know their parts.”

From the onset of the opera, the soloists were captivating in their roles. Grecian soprano Myrto Papatanasiu, playing Violetta, possesses vocal talent that not only allowed her to communicate the musical elements of the opera, but also to clearly express the complexities of her character, leaving audience members with a slight heartache after leaving the theatre.

In describing Opéra de Montréal’s process for choosing a soloist to play Violetta, Mr. Beaulac explains that “when you have something very specific in mind in terms of the characterization, the interpretation, the colour of voice, the stage presence … one must have the soloist in mind … and Myrto Papatanasiu is splendid in the role.”

Many of the choir members onstage are members of Opéra de Montréal’s apprenticeship program—a training program designed for graduate students wishing to pursue professional careers in opera. Beaulac describes the program as a “stepping stone and the final preparation for an operatic career,” in which the students “have coaching, language courses, movement courses, [and] acting classes.”

Italian tenor Roberto de Biasio flourished as Alfredo, and his humble stage presence allowed for a tasteful yet emotionally compelling performance. Luca Grassi’s performance as Giorgio Germont, Alfredo’s father, was the highlight of the evening. In comparison to Violetta’s often dramatic persona, Grassi’s simple acting style quickly grasped the audience’s attention. His sonorous, colourful voice, paired with this tasteful acting technique, briefly drew the spotlight away from Violetta and forced the audience to listen—truly listen—to what he had to say.

La Traviata will be showing at Place des Arts, Wilfred-Pelletier hall, Sept. 18, 20, and 22. Opéra de Montréal offers heavily discounted ticket prices for students that range from $20-$25

World Press Photo, journalism’s most prestigious annual photography contest, is currently exhibiting 161 award-winning photos in nine categories at Marché Bonsecours in Old Montreal. The show is part of a travelling exhibition set to tour 100 cities around the globe, and can be visited in Montreal until Sept. 30.

“We exist to inspire understanding of the world through quality photojournalism,” reads a sign at the exhibit. This epigraph perfectly represents the overarching mission of World Press Photo—an ambitious undertaking that brings together an international set of contributing photographers, each with unique perspectives and stories to share.

A large part of the exhibition is devoted to photography depicting current affairs.  The year 2011 was marked by political turbulence, humanitarian crises, and natural disasters, including the Arab Spring, the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, as well as the massacre at Utøya, Norway. Such emergencies reach us through daily news reports in the comfort of our homes, far from the chaos and devastation in which they originate. The award-winning pictures of World Press Photo are key to breaking down the barriers of distance and time that inevitably limit the urgency of these events, and bringing them to our immediate attention.  Even more than the written word, the universal language of imagery gives direct voice to people who lack the means to tell their stories themselves.

Central to World Press Photo is recognizing the importance of photojournalism in documenting major events in conflict hotspots around the world, and the courageous efforts of photographers who work to do so. Nonetheless, it is not only politics, suffering, and devastation that the photos seek to bring to our attention.

In other award-winning categories, photographers are praised for their ability to open viewers’ minds by documenting the daily life of societies discrepant to those of the Western audience. Stories like those told by Pietro Paolini’s stunning photographs documenting everyday life in Bolivia may not make international headlines, but are nevertheless hidden and pristine gems of culture, tradition, and natural beauty of which we are otherwise unaware.

Finally, World Press Photo emphasizes that photojournalism, in addition to enhancing an understanding of the world by presenting us with its actualities, also achieves this through an artistic form. The award-winning photographers were not merely in the right place at the right time, but have a genuine artistic talent and feel for aesthetics, enabling them to find beauty in the mundane and trivial instances of life we tend to take for granted. Common to all photographs is their capacity to touch us by capturing something beyond the mere visual: an emotion or a story that strikes a chord, inspiring us to see things differently or notice things to which we have been previously blind.

Montrealers rarely get opportunities to experience such evocative arrays of photography—make sure you don’t miss your shot.

World Press Photo is on display through Sept. 30, at Marché Bonsecours (350 St-Paul Street East). General admission is $12. $8 for individuals 25 and under.