Rusalka <\/em>in Munich. Photo: Wilfried H\u00f6sl<\/p>\n This was the case of Rusalka <\/em>as presented by Martin Ku\u0161ej \u2013 a production that will be easy to date even a hundred years from now. The Austrian director began to work on Dvo\u0159\u00e1k\u2019s masterpiece, when the world was engrossed in the case of Joseph Fritzl, which in March 2009 ended with Fritzl being convicted of murder, multiple rapes, paedophilia, incest, imprisonment and enslavement. The unimaginable nightmare of Elisabeth, Fritzl\u2019s daughter and mother of his seven children, lasted over thirty years. For nearly a quarter of a century it unfolded underground, in the cellar of the house in Amstetten, in close proximity to Rosemarie Fritzl, Joseph\u2019s wife and Elisabeth\u2019s mother, who was allegedly unaware of what was going on. It is not for me to reveal the winding paths Ku\u0161ej\u2019s mind followed to make a connection between this story and a poetic tale of a clash of two world orders and love, of barren pain and vain sacrifices which Vodnik wanted to spare his beloved daughter Rusalka. Yet there are hardly any weak points in the narrative imposed on Dvo\u0159\u00e1k by Ku\u0161ej. Je\u017eibaba sits half-dazed on the first floor, against a massive wallpaper with a picture of Lake Mondsee, where the \u201creal\u201d wife of Fritzl once ran an inn. Beneath the floor lurks the dark abyss of the cellar, where Vodnik imprisons his victims. It is not difficult to work out that the ghastly polonaise of the brides hugging skinned doe is a nightmare of Elisabeth \u2013 being raped, miscarrying and losing her newborn baby after a few days. It is hard to imagine a blunter and more coherent theatrical vision of the Stockholm syndrome \u2013 complete helplessness resulting in the victims\u2019 animal-like attachment to their abusers.<\/p>\n G\u00fcnther Groissb\u00f6ck (Vodnik) and Kristine Opolais (Rusalka). Photo: Wilfried H\u00f6sl<\/p>\n Ku\u0161ej raped Rusalka, he imprisoned her in the cellar of his own imagination: so effectively, in fact, that at times the operatic text began to pity him. It is impossible to watch it calmly, impossible to consent to it and yet there is no denying that the director is a master when it comes to creating his characters and formulating the general framework of his concept. At least we have room for a dispute, room for sharp disagreement. Nothing of the sort remains after a performance of Die V\u00f6gel<\/em> as presented by Frank Castorf, once a prophet of German political theatre, today a worn-out scandaliser, provocateur, who has gone so far in his contempt for texts that he no longer wants \u2013 or is unable \u2013 to put together a convincing whole from the shattered remains of the narrative.<\/p>\n The premiere seemed ill-fated from the start. The director, who had called for a \u201ccivic rebellion\u201d against the pandemic-related restrictions, and shouted in interviews that he would not be taught by that Merkel woman how to wash his hands, had to share his work in a strict lockdown: with an audience of fifty people, who after the first performance neither burst into rapturous applause, nor dared to boo. Castorf did not expect this, used as he is to strong reactions. The staging, available as a stream for some time, has only now gone through a trial by fire in front of a still limited audience. I suspect it has disappointed everyone. For it has so much of everything that it really has nothing. In a sense it can be seen as a museum of the now outdated art of the erstwhile restorer of the Volksb\u00fchne. We have a revolving stage and structural elements seen in the infamous Bayreuth Ring.<\/em> We have containers and other cramped interiors, filmed, as usual, by two cameras, which enable the audience to see what goes on inside. There is chaos so beloved by the director. What is missing, however, is substance, even pointless substance.<\/p>\n Die V\u00f6gel<\/em>. Photo: Wilfried H\u00f6sl<\/p>\n And I wanted to argue with Castorf so much. I was wrong when I suspected that he would transform Braunfels\u2019 very loose adaptation of Aristophanes\u2019 comedy \u2013 with its bitter-sweet finale, so typical of other German works from that period \u2013 into a sharp social satire. Instead, Castorf prevented me from entering into any discussion, as he used in his staging of Die V\u00f6gel <\/em>free, schizophrenic even, associations. If there are birds, then we must have Hitchcock or a poster for a concert by The Byrds. If there is Prometheus, he has to be dressed as Karl Marx. Something going not quite right in the birds\u2019 realm? It is a certain sign that Ratefreund and Hoffegut should put on SS uniforms. I have to admit that I still have not figured out why Castorf decided to blight the stage with a huge copy of Rubens\u2019 The Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus. Perhaps the only reason is that the original can be admired in Munich\u2019s Pinakothek.<\/p>\n Caroline Wettergreen (Nachtigall). Photo: Wilfried H\u00f6sl<\/p>\n During my first evening in Munich I saw a beautiful theatrical catastrophe, during the second \u2013 a catastrophe that was hideous as much as it was dead boring. Fortunately, the Bavarian Opera is one of the few opera houses in Europe, where at least the musical side of productions gives no cause for concern. Both Robert Jindra in Rusalka <\/em>and Ingo Metzmacher in Die V\u00f6gel\u00a0 <\/em>led the Staatsoper forces in calm, measured tempi, brilliantly highlighting the vivid sound of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester. I still hear the painfully inevitable finale of Dvo\u0159\u00e1k\u2019s opera, rolling like black water. I did not expect that the duet between the Nachtigall (excellent Caroline Wettergreen) and Hoffegut er reliable Charles Workman) from the second act of Die V\u00f6gel<\/em> under Metzmacher\u2019s relaxed, unhurried baton would reveal so many similarities with not just Ariadne auf Naxos<\/em> and Tristan<\/em>, fairly obvious in this context, but also with the shimmering texture of Berlioz\u2019s scores. I heard several outstanding singers, primarily Wolfgang Koch as Prometheus in Braunfels\u2019 opera, a singer consolidating his position as one of the leading dramatic baritones today; Kristine Opolais (Rusalka), who is paying a high price for overusing her voice in the past, but manages it so wisely that she is able to hide signs of wear and tear; and G\u00fcnther Groissb\u00f6ck, who once again shook me in his Vodnik\u2019s monologue from Act II. I experienced a moment of true rapture thanks to a long-awaited, nearly perfect interpreter of the Prince in the form of Dmytro Popov, a singer with a ravishing, thick and dark tenor, phenomenal breath support and sensitivity which is unusual in such a young singer.<\/p>\n So much musical happiness over two short days of summer holidays \u2013 if it had happened two years ago, I would be already making plans for the next season. Now each decision will have to be thought over three times, and information will have to be looked for not on agents\u2019 websites or Operabase, but in tweets and Facebook posts. One has to get used to it. What is meant to be is already here, only we refuse to acknowledge it.<\/p>\n Translated by: Anna Kijak<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I have recently extracted from the depth of my archive an essay on the dilemmas of a critic who sometimes dreams of going to the opera just for pleasure, in nice company, of not analysing every element of the work done on stage and, finally, of simply listening to the music. I wanted it and … [Read more…]<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,7],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"entry","1":"post","2":"publish","3":"author-mangusta","4":"post-5970","6":"format-standard","7":"category-posts-in-english","8":"category-wedrowki-operowe"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5970","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5970"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5970\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5979,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5970\/revisions\/5979"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5970"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5970"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5970"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/atorod.pl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/bso-rusalka2.jpg\")
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