In 1974, Leonard Cohen was asked why his album New Skin for the Old Ceremony was a failure in North America and the U.K. but a success in Europe. “Maybe it’s because they can’t understand my lyrics,” he replied. Both Cohen’s self-deprecating wit and the achingly sad poetry of his lyrics are on display in Tracy Power’s play Chelsea Hotel, which is at Firehall Arts Centre (280 E. Cordova St) until March 3. Chelsea Hotel adds inventive dance pieces and impressionistic storytelling to Leonard Cohen’s classic songs, often totally revamping their musical arrangements so fresh associations are created. The young cast scampers around a set made of paper filled with discarded poetry drafts, while adeptly switching off on an astounding variety of instruments. Adrian Glynn McMorran stars as the Writer, who acts out romantic regret and creative struggle and sings beautifully. His solo turn, a wrenching rendition of Tonight Will Be Fine, is a show highlight.

Theatregoers familiar with Cohen’s work will hear new and often faster paced versions of his songs, such as a sexy cabaret-infused I’m Your Man and an ironic hard-rocking take on American Idol favorite Hallelujah. The cast’s voices are very, well, different from Cohen’s self-admitted limited range. Neophytes to Cohen will find Chelsea Hotel an excellent introduction to Canada’s unofficial Poet Laureate. And any audience should relish the opportunity to appreciate the depth and beauty of Cohen’s catalogue.

Rachel Aberle is a cast standout, playing a Sister of Mercy – a combination nun, nurse, and muse – with playfulness and intelligence. Sadmag spoke to Rachel Aberle about Leonard Cohen’s current caché, wanting to be a muse, and the state of the theater scene in Vancouver.

Sad Mag: How familiar were you with Cohen’s work before you started Chelsea Hotel? how did your relationship to his work evolve as you were doing the play?

Rachel Aberle: To be honest, I wasn’t super familiar with Cohen prior to this summer when I started to do some research for the auditions. I was familiar with Hallelujah, as I guess pretty much everyone in North America is – but to be honest, the version I was familiar with first was the Jeff Buckley version – which I loved. I remember when I finally heard a recording of Cohen singing Hallelujah thinking, “This is awful! This guy can’t sing!” This was several years ago, in my late teens. The cast is all within about 10 years of each other in age, and we all talked about how Cohen’s voice was something that put us off when we were younger, that it’s something we’ve grown to appreciate as we’ve grown into adulthood. Can’t remember who, but one of the cast said at a talk-back that “Cohen’s not for kids,” and I think there’s something to that.

Through working on the show I’ve come to appreciate him so much, not only in terms of music, but in terms of incredible poetry. I’ve always been a pretty lyrics driven listener, and for that you can’t get much better than Cohen. He was a poet before he was a songwriter, and it shows.

SM: Yeah, i think that’s one of the great things in the show. You can appreciate the lyrics as a captive audience

?RA: that’s great to hear. It’s been a really interesting process to connect such poetic language to some kind of playable acting

SM: Were there any Leonard Cohen songs that you wish had been used in the play, or that you rehearsed and didn’t use?

RA: Those decisions were made before I came on board. We did change and add some of the poetry used in the piece – just certain pieces getting moved around or shortened or changed to other things that Tracey felt told the story and got the audience on board faster and more effectively than what she had originally chosen. Because my knowledge of Cohen was admittedly pretty low before the show, and because we use so many songs (27 to be precise) there aren’t any that I wish were there that aren’t.

SM: Were the writer’s lines in between songs also snippets of cohen poetry?

RA: Yes. Every word spoken or sung in the show comes from Cohen.

?SM: OK, a couple more Cohen questions…Do you have a favorite song? Or a favorite line from his lyrics?

RA: I love Tonight Will Be Fine. I think the chorus speaks to something so profound and so honest about feelings that linger long after one might hope they would. More specifically the line “We swore to each other our love would surely last/You went right on loving, and I went on a fast/Now I am too thin and your love is too vast.” I feel like I’ve been on both ends of that statement – probably everyone has at some point. That feeling of regret, wishing you could feel things that you don’t, or that feelings you have could be matched, when they can’t.

I also think that Famous Blue Raincoat is one of the most beautifully heartbreaking songs I’ve ever heard. I’ve never listened to a song that made me sad so repeatedly.

SM: What do you think Leonard Cohen means to Canadians of your generation? How is it different from how he’s viewed by baby boomers?

?RA: To be honest, I don’t think Leonard Cohen means much to most of our generation, and I hope that changes. I wonder partly if it’s because so much of his music has been so widely covered by other artists, but I know for many people our age that I’ve talked to about this show, the most common response has been that they’re not that familiar with Leonard Cohen — which, prior to the show, was pretty much the case for me as well. I think a lot of people my age think of Cohen as someone that their parents listen to, that they weren’t that into when they were kids.

Hopefully it’s like a lot of music that’s just too mature for younger audiences, and people start to give it a listen now that they’re old enough to understand what the hell he’s talking about. I feel like it’s the kind of music people in their twenties should be listening to all the time. One of my friend’s fathers saw the show and said afterwards that he was tearing up through most of the first act because it brought back so many memories from his twenties. He said you don’t feel those incredible highs and lows forever. I think that’s probably what it means to a lot of people my parents’ age – it’s a reminder of the later years of their youth. His lyrics capture so perfectly what incredible love and incredible loss mean, but at a deeper level that anything you feel at adolescence. The love is vast because you’re old enough to feel like it actually means something real, and the loss is devastating, because it feels like a much deeper investment that’s come up dry.

SM: What instruments can you play? Did you have to learn any for the show?

?RA: Oh the instruments…

I played the cello regularly for about 11 years, but those years were between age 4 and 15… so a bit of it’s in the “riding a bike” camp, in that I learned so young that some of that knowledge will never go way, but I also had been out of practice for so long until about this time last year that my musicianship is definitely still a work in progress in my opinion.

I started playing the ukulele this summer for the fun of it. I played the piano in high school, and actually got to a pretty high level, but have been out of practice so long that it’s really crumbled back into a pretty rudimentary skill

And the bass guitar, which I play in the show – I had never touched until our workshops for the show in early December. Our first day of rehearsal Steve said, “Rachel, how do you feel about playing bass on [First We Take] Manhattan?” I said, “Well, I’m willing to try, but just so we’re all on the same page here, I’ve literally never even tried before.” Steve paused for a second and then said, “Oh yeah. I think you’ll be fine.” I leave that to the audience to judge. The more work I get in theatre, the more I’m starting to feel like half of the battle is deciding what you’re crazy enough to agree to try, and then dealing with the fallout of that agreement.

SM: Have you done much musical theatre before?

?RA: I’ve done a bit. I was one of those kids in high school that was really into musical theatre, and then I sort of drifted away from it when I went to university, and then to theatre school. I’d pretty much stopped thinking of myself as a musical theatre performer. Then in the last year all the shows I’ve wound up doing, while they haven’t all been full musicals, they have been full of music, and have required me to sing.

SM: What was it like growing up immersed in the theatre world? Did you always know you wanted to be an actor, or did you ever have phases of rebelling and wanting to go into business or something bourgeois like that?

RA: I had bouts of thinking that maybe I wanted to be a writer, and for a time even a lawyer – I don’t think they came from a place of rebellion however (and you couldn’t really call becoming a writer bourgeois). Growing up with a Dad who was in theatre taught me from a young age that it was a possibility – that the idea of trying to pursue a career in theatre (while maybe still insane) wasn’t impossible. People did it. Having that knowledge meant that I never went through the phase of thinking “Well, yeah, I want to be an actor, but nobody actually does that… so what am I going to do for real?”

?SM: And I bet a lot of your peers did go through that phase, right?

RA: Yeah – I mean when I think of the people I went to high school with who I did theatre with, I don’t think many of them are doing it any more. And to be fair, for some of them it was never something that they wanted to pursue after high school – but I do wonder how many more young people might consider going into theatre, or music, or any artistic field for that matter, if it dawned on them that it was a viable option.

SM: How do you feel about the current state of the theatre scene in Vancouver?

?RA: That is a tough question to answer. I guess what I would say is that I know for sure that I’ve been incredibly lucky with the opportunities that I’ve had, not only because opportunities are scant (and that’s true of theatre anywhere), but also because the projects I’ve gotten to work on have all been very fulfilling, and very different from each other, and have all involved incredible people. Of course I wish there was more funding – that should go without saying but unfortunately we need to keep saying it, and keep saying it, and then say it some more. And I wish I could figure out what would get the average Vancouverite more interested in seeing plays.

There is so much to do in this city. I get why on a sunny day people want to go to third beach, and I get why on a rainy day people are more interested in going up on a mountain where it’s snowing and riding boards and skis back down the mountain. What I wish for is a way to make people who are interested in those things also interested in sitting down and watching some fantastic storytelling. I would like to figure out a way to build the theatre into the recreational vocabulary of this city … I’m just not sure how.

SM: In Chelsea Hotel you play a muse. Have you ever been a muse? Or had a muse?

RA: (laughs) If I’ve ever been a muse, nobody told me. In terms of having a muse, I’ve definitely wrote some things based on or about people that have come in and out of my life – and I’ve definitely used relationships I’ve had with people as a way to connect with material I’ve worked on as an actor.

SM: Is it strange singing the same songs over and over again? Do you start making up your own versions of the songs?

?RA: It hasn’t seemed strange yet, and I think part of that is that the material is so rich that there are a lot of new things to find every day. I have an unfortunate habit of replacing words with other words completely subconsciously, and have definitely sang the words, “Suppose that he froze when the wind took his NOSE,” instead of, “CLOTHES” a few times in rehearsal, and once while rehearsing Take this Waltz I sang “I’ll bury my soul in a sandwich” rather than “bury my soul in a scrapbook.” But intentionally? No, I’m happy with the material so far

SM: (laughs) Sandwich!

RA: I know, I always think that if those were the lyrics it would mean that she dealt with the break up by eating her feelings.

?SM: It’s a good Freudian slip, something to sing when you are hungry.

?RA: Right?

SM: Right!

Chelsea Hotel
Firehall Arts Centre (280 East Cordova)
Now until March 3rd, 2012
$25 regular, $20 students and seniors
Ticket info here