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Olivia: A Folk Opera

Drew Nelles

I would call this self-promotion if I weren’t hyping someone else’s baby: this week in Montreal, a musical ensemble called the Coal Choir (I am a member) will stage a play. Titled Olivia: A Folk Opera, it recreates the final hours of Maria Olivia Ramirez Rabiela, who died alone on December 1, 2007, and was not found until five weeks later. The play is less an opera than a tragedy, with the Choir as a chorus, shifting about the protagonist like a noisy, inky-black whirpool. We sing. Sometimes we dance, though even when it is joyous, the movement is tinged with something weightier.

There are over twenty people in the Coal Choir. Each of us brings a voice and a personality, and several members in particular have worked hard to pull this play together, in areas like acting, set design, blocking and administrative tasks. But the Coal Choir, in content if not in form, is Katherine Peacock. She performs under the name Mussaver, and she has played in a host of local acts, most notably the now-defunct Telefauna. Peacock is also tremendously, staggeringly talented. Even when we in the Choir do not do justice to her songs, their power is still apparent.

Olivia is very much Peacock’s story. The real Olivia was her friend, an eccentric domestic worker from Mexico. In rehearsals, I am always hyper-aware of this Olivia I never knew; when things get light-hearted and someone cracks a joke about Olivia the character, I get tense. I know it is silly, since six-hour practices demand comic relief, and laughing at death is the best way to confront it. But the seriousness of the matter still looms large. This was a person, this woman we are commemorating.

You should come to see Olivia. It is, I think, a rare chance to participate in something rather unique. Although in the dialogue I hear Beckett and Ionesco, and in the music I hear Silver Mt. Zion and the Anthology of American Folk Music, and in the motions I sometimes feel like any minute now we might burst into a weird-pop off-Broadway musical, Olivia in sum is like nothing else I have ever been in. The play begins with the words, “For wanting to remember/for wanting to forget.” Like most of the Coal Choir’s lyrics, that line is more effective at setting a mood than at saying anything explicitly. Olivia does something similar. It is baffling, but you will come away moved.

Olivia: A Folk Opera runs November 25, 26 and 28 at St. James United Church (463 Ste. Catherine). Doors open at 7 p.m. Tickets are $12 in advance or $15 at the door, and are available at these locations. Proceeds will be donated to the Montreal City Mission and the Immigrant Workers Centre. [Edit: Saturday night’s performance is now sold out. Please come Wednesday or Thursday.]

 

November 22nd, 2009

1 Comment

First of all, we truly appreciate your effort and dedication to honor the life of Aunt Olivia in your Opera. It’s very kind from you and we’re sure she would be very happy to see how much her friends and family love her.

However, we found some inaccuracies in your text and we´d appreciate if you could clarify them to make of this musical piece a real tribute to her memory:

  1. In your text you mention that she was abandoned by her family and that’s not correct. We kept in touch with her regularly (as frequently as she wanted) either by phone or by mail. She visited to Mexico City in at least 4 occasions and she was always very well received. Some of her brothers and sisters went to visit her to Canada every time she wanted since she decided to move in 1986.

  2. Olivia loved her country and her birth city and she never moved to Canada looking for a better job. She had a master degree in Accounting from a very prestigious Mexican public university (Instituto Politecnico Nacional), and, at the time she decided to leave Mexico, she was working for the Mexican government in the IRS Department. The real reason why she decided to move was her passion for Canada`s culture and life-style. Definitely she was not worried for her job — she did it just because she wanted to start a new life there, that´s it.

  3. Olivia was always a very independent person. Even though she kept mailing or calling her family frequently, she enjoyed very much her freedom and she always left us that very clear. That’s the reason why in most of the occasions she took the initiative to contact us instead of us calling her. Also because of this, for us it wasn’t uncommon to observe longer periods of time without having news from her. She wanted it that way and we always respected it.

  4. Back in December 2007, everyone in my family was worried, as we had not ear from her in a very, very long time (more than usual). Unfortunately when we tried to reach her to check if everything was fine we found out that she decided to move to a new place without informing us. Therefore, we couldn’t find her or any person close to her. She never mentioned anyone, used a PO Box to write us and barely gave us details about her life there, so finding her location was not an easy task.

  5. When the Mexican Embassy contacted us to notify us that she had passed away, we immediately traveled to Montreal to complete the funeral rites. Her Sister Virginia Ramirez Rabiela and I personally went there and made all the necessary arrangements.

  6. Her body was incinerated in Canada, and she rests now in a catholic church here in Mexico City. And she received all the honors and love from her family – there’s no doubt about it.

We’re counting on your kindness to make these corrections and continue honoring the memory of our beloved Olivia with the respect and love she will always deserve.

Best regards,

Alejandro Rodríguez And Olivia`s Family

Posted by Alejandro Rodriguez Ramirez on July 3, 2010

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ISSUE 36 Summer 2010

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