Men are always looking for their fathers. This is "The Search" explored by Aurea Ensemble, which premiered Sunday at the FirstWorks 2010 Festival in the Chace Center at the Rhode Island School of Design.
The performance was inspired by a print series by Morris Nathanson, a Rhode Island artist and designer.
Aurea Ensemble calls its performances "the alchemy of music and words." Through music infused with spoken word, Aurea unifies the humanities and fine arts. In this particular performance, Aurea depicted Nathanson's journey to find his father through music played by their string quartet, narration and harmonica by Chris Turner and a series of photographs and images by Nathanson himself.
The search began at the foot of a snow-capped mountain with a violin duet. Then Turner, in his engaging British accent, recited the poem "For, Brother, What Are We?" by Thomas Wolfe, which discusses the widespread desire of men to follow in the footsteps of their fathers. During the poem, Nathanson's family photos scrolled on three screens — on the back wall, stage left and stage right. There were pictures of Nathanson as a young boy, of his mother and his brothers, in black and white, cracked and faded. But there were no pictures of Nathanson's father. His father left his family during the Great Depression, which was the impetus for "The Search."
The first part of the performance repeated this pattern of music played to a slideshow, followed by readings, which were chosen by Teaching Associate in Music Consuelo Sherba. Sherba also plays the viola for Aurea, and her husband, Teaching Associate in Music Charles Sherba, plays the violin.
The photographs were taken by Nathanson on his many travels. One measure the audience was in a crowded depot in India, and the next in a narrow waterway in Venice. Mixed with the photos were pieces of Nathanson's art, black and white paper cutouts of disproportional people and palm trees on a beach.
At some points, it was difficult to see the connection between the narration, the images and the music. Though the juxtaposition of these media generated a unique experience, it lacked a cohesive plot other than the theme of "searching."
Part two of the performance, though, was less abstract and more comprehensive. The second search, which illustrated Nathanson's print series, was broken into six sections of narration separated by music.
An unpleasantly shrill harmonica marked the start of the journey: "I left my house and began the search for my father." This narration accompanied a print of a man in a field, carrying a small suitcase. The man crossed a river, visited many villages, rode many trains and sailed the ships of many nations, looking for his father. Along the journey, the man fell in love, had a son and encountered war.
The prints were black and white and very basic, almost cartoon-like. It was the music that provided the detail and color and conveyed the complexity of the experience. When the man found himself in the midst of war, the quartet aggressively played a movement by Shostakovich. When the man sailed on the seas and fell in love, they played a beautiful, soothing piece by Mendelssohn.
The story took an ironic turn when the man, caught up in finding his own father, abandoned his son. But in the end, it is not his father whom he finds, but his son: "I came to a strange harbor and saw a face I knew … my son and I embraced … he finished his search and I became my father."
At the end of the performance, the artists hosted a talk-back. Nathanson explained that the story is both allegorical and autobiographical. His father left his family when he was young, but the purpose of the print series is to portray a search that has been going on for centuries, he said. This search is in religious scripture and is the subject of many stories.
It is a fate that is impossible to escape, Nathanson told the audience. "We are our fathers," he declared. "We repeat their mistakes."
