REVIEW: La Reine-garçon hits like an avalanche at the COC

int(111551)
Production photo of La Reine-Garcon at the COC.
/By / Feb 3, 2025
SHARE

Midway through a corpse dissection, a realization strikes René Descartes, prompting him to hurl a baritone melody into the cavernous Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts: “Je pense, donc je suis!” 

That endearingly on-the-nose exclamation is one of the goofier moments from composer Julien Bilodeau’s opera La Reine-garçon, which takes care to mix the intellectual with the accessible throughout. Arriving in Toronto after its world premiere in Montreal, this co-production between the Canadian Opera Company and the Opéra de Montréal is eminently watchable, often moving with a sprightliness that belies the dreary contours of its gloomy, crystalline aesthetic.

La Reine-garçon marks a return to familiar snow drifts for librettist Michel Marc Bouchard. The opera shares its protagonist — the 17th-century Queen Christina of Sweden, famously raised by her father as a boy — with Bouchard’s play Christina, the Girl King, which debuted in French before playing at the Stratford Festival in 2014. (He also penned the screenplay to Mika Kaurismäki’s biographical drama The Girl King, released the year after.)

Christina, here named Christine, is best known for the gender antics of her youth, but La Reine-garçon only lends a couple minutes to that arc, instead tracing her reign’s final few years (in French, with bilingual surtitles). But even at this juncture, a jarring dissonance exists between society’s expectations for Christine (Kirsten MacKinnon) and how she lives — multiple men seek her hand, but she’s in love with Countess Ebba (Queen Hezumuryango), her lady-in-waiting. Although a suite of philosophical and political ideas waft down for optional engagement (Owen McCausland plays the aforementioned Descartes, who instructs Christine in notions of free will), a story of yearning lies at this blizzard’s centre.

La Reine-garçon prances through its intermission-inclusive two hours and 45 minutes, traversing from location to location with efficiency. While this fleet-footed approach is entertaining, it did leave me occasionally confused about key plot points. Absent opera’s tendency to repeat information more than once, I at times had difficulty keeping track of the three grouchy men dressed in edgy black furs (period-accurate costume design by Sébastien Dionne); my seatmate encountered the same issue.

Bilodeau’s score is classical in intention, but with plenty of contemporary colouring. Offstage singer Anne-Marie Beaudette performs a high-pitched motif inspired by the kulning, an ancestral Scandinavian women’s chant, and MacKinnon joins her in the vocal stratosphere, driving the action with an agile but full soprano. Playing the smarmy Count Johan, Isaiah Bell puts his gleaming tenor to comedic work, repeating the onomatopoeic phrase “Click! Clack!” so often that the surtitles stop bothering. Conductor Johannes Debus collaborates with the COC Orchestra and chorus master Sandra Horst to ensure climaxes arrive with majestic force.

Except for the staging of Descartes’ lecture, which draws inspiration from Rembrandt’s “Anatomy Lesson,” director Angela Konrad’s chosen visual language is snow, snow, and more snow. The first scene proves characteristic: While Siminovitch-winning set designer Anick La Bissonnière fills the playing space with towering tree trunks, projection designer Alexandre Desjardins conjures a snowstorm at the rear of the stage, as well as on a downstage scrim. This three-dimensional effect contributes to the opera’s distinctive opening image of a Swedish army huddling for warmth.

Projections continue to provide backdrops, with scenery flying in and out as needed. La Bissonnière, Desjardins, and lighting designer Éric Champoux render Christine’s castle in a particularly expressionistic fashion, facilitating an excellent sequence involving a group of dancing stags who Christine might be dreaming… and who maybe aren’t actually animals at all? With the playing space so sparse and neutral, the possibilities are numerous.

La Reine-garçon represents a delicious chance to see a new opera performed at sweeping scale. And I think there may be a subtextual reason that Canadian artists and audiences gravitate toward Christine’s story: As she stands in front of a projected sheet of ice and sings of love for her nation, the arctic landscape seeming to expand for kilometers, I found it disarmingly easy to forget she means Sweden, and not here.


La Reine-garçon runs at the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts until February 15. Tickets are available here.


Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.

Liam Donovan
WRITTEN BY

Liam Donovan

Liam is Intermission’s senior editor. His writing has appeared in publications like Maisonneuve, This, and NEXT. He loves the original Super Mario game very much.

LEARN MORE

Comments

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


/
Production photo of House + Body's Measure for Measure at Crow's Theatre. iPhoto caption: Photo by Kendra Epik.

REVIEW: House + Body’s Measure for Measure weds the beautiful with the troubling

House + Body provides few answers about how to resist (or further, dismantle) a corrupt government. But layered portrayals of the play’s central characters convey the emotional stakes of a system that allows for egregious abuses of power.

By Ferron Delcy
Production photo of Carried by the River. iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.

REVIEW: Red Snow Collective’s Carried by the River is still finding its flow

Playing in the Tarragon Theatre Extraspace, Carried by the River delivers visually striking images and impressive choreography but struggles to find emotional depth and cohesion.

By Krystal Abrigo
Rosamund Small in Performance Review. iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.

REVIEW: Outside the March’s Performance Review is claustrophobic for all the right reasons

It’s up close and personal, with lots of eye contact and sometimes only inches of distance between playwright-performer Rosamund Small and the audience.

By Gus Lederman
Production photo from Trident Moon. iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.

REVIEW: Against a bloody backdrop, Trident Moon pays homage to the power of resilience

Playing at Crow’s Theatre and set during the 1947 partition of India, the intense fictionalized drama offers a graceful depiction of several women’s high-stakes struggle to resist.

By Liam Donovan
Photo of Kelly Clipperton in Let's Assume I Know Nothing, and Move Forward From There. iPhoto caption: Photo by Olya Glotka.

REVIEW: At Factory Theatre, Kelly Clipperton’s new solo show transforms memory lane into a catwalk

Supported by Naomi Campbell’s glamorously grounded direction, which glides over the keys of sharply contrasting emotional scales, Clipperton paints a quippy, unapologetic, nostalgically referential portrait.

By jonnie lombard
Production photo of Canadian Stage's Fat Ham. iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.

REVIEW: In Canadian Stage’s Fat Ham, revenge is a dish best served smoked

Fat Ham is self-aware of its nature as an adaptation, twisting the audience’s familiarity with both Hamlet and Blackness to disrupt their assumptions of who these characters are as people.

By Stephanie Fung

Subscribe to the Friday Folio

Get the theatre news and reviews you love, along with inspired culture recommendations and exclusive ticket giveaways, every Friday in your inbox.

* indicates required