Every house has its own routines, especially the cursed house of Atreus, the core of Greek tragedy. Every day at sunset, Elektra he groans in pain for his father Agamemnon, who was killed by his mother Klytämnestra many years ago. Bored maids watching and mocking. Featuring Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s extraordinarily rich libretto, Richard Strauss’s 1909 opera keeps its focus simple. Family niceties (past child murders and the like) are thrown aside. This girl has only one goal: to kill her mother and avenge her father. As played by Nina Stemme, one of the greatest Elektras of her generation, in the Royal Opera House’s new production, the sound of everyday mourning – graceless, elegiac and violent – is an unholy dance of death.
In his last new production as music director of the Royal Opera House, Antonio Pappano once again collaborated with Christof Loy, who conducted works by Strauss. Ariadne auf Naxos In 2002, at the beginning of Pappano’s long tenure. Designed by Johannes Leiacker, with lighting by Olaf Winter, the look reflects the separatism of Vienna at the time. Elektracomposition: a sooty palace courtyard and steps; a basement where lower-level staff lived; Illuminated upper windows through which glamorous figures in dinner dresses float aimlessly. The sets provide a powerful context for Elektra’s world as seen by the opera’s creators in the early 20th century, when Sigmund Freud’s theories were still fresh and World War I was still out of sight.
With its unique, indescribable power, Jenůfa makes the listener different with every listen.
Even more creative than this salome (1905) before that, Elektra It is a tireless work. Relentless, loud, torn by chromatic battles, the music oscillates between dark and light, big and small, high drama and even greater extreme emotion. He uses every tool in his arsenal; who knows what; Not abracadabras, but persuasion and hard graft – Pappano elicited an impeccable variety of playing from the expanded ROH orchestra. The clue to this opera is its musical polarities. Shadows, whispers, and chamber-like subtlety provide depth and compassion: brief waltzes that sweeten a blood-soaked landscape; Low breathy yawns and howls as Klytämnestra describes her night terrors; A dash of harp or solo strings when Elektra realizes her disgusting, obsessive desire is about to come true. Every detail, lovingly engraved and nurtured, could be heard here.
In this panoply of sounds, the voices of three women – Elektra, her sisters Chrysothemis, and Klytämnestra – are woven into the texture, almost beaten and woven. Sound issues were evident on the first night, but didn’t detract from the awards as a whole. Karita Mattila’s supremely domineering, bejeweled Klytämnestra lacked gravitas, but so did the miserly, guilt-ridden murderer himself. Stemme had more specific challenges, which he quickly recognized and negotiated with a high level of professionalism. These two stars, each now in their seventies, bring quality and experience to every stage. Sara Jakubiak makes a stunning debut at the Royal Opera House; vocally triumphant, dramatically brooding as Chrysothemis, imagining both motherhood and matricide in the same breath. In Strauss and Hofmannsthal’s reading, the absent son Orest is unknown: Łukasz Goliński played him exactly that way. He kills his mother and her lover Ägisth like a murderous AI automaton, as if designed to accomplish a task.
The supporting cast had important roles: five maids, including Valentina Puskás; Lee Bisset as Auditor; and Michael Gibson, Michael Mofidian, Charles Workman and Jeremy White in the weak male roles. Before the second show (Monday), Nina Stemme withdrew, citing illness. She was replaced by Lithuanian Ausrine Stundyte, a regular Elektra of European houses, making her debut ahead of her debut as Tosca next month. Luckily, for the experience of hearing Strauss’s orchestration played at this level once again, I had arranged to go again for my own interest. Admiration is the only response to someone stepping into a new production with all its risks. Elektra barely left the stage for 100 minutes.
ROH was prepared for such an eventuality: Stundyte rehearsed with Loy before Christmas. Her voice is lighter, her performance more cat-like than Stemme, who (as befits the text) interprets a distraught woman carrying the weight of the world. With every excuse allowed, Stundyte only achieved vocal development late, especially after the recognition scene with Orest. I’m looking forward to listening to Tosca under safer conditions.
Pappano was in the audience on his night off. Jenfa (1904), in the second of two concert performances given by his new group, the London Symphony Orchestra. Simon Rattle, now conductor emeritus of the LSO, has led a valued cast in the orchestra’s ongoing Leoš Janáček cycle (Cunning Little Vixen It’s already live on LSO Live; Katya Kabanova expected to be released next month). From the opening xylophone reveille – depicting a rattling mill wheel – to the brassy, terrifying volleys that conclude each act, the work unfolds with urgent momentum and intensity. In this tale of Moravian village life, Jenůfa’s illegitimate child embarrasses his pious stepmother, Kostelnička. Tragedy ensues. The opera ends with lessons of fragile optimism and acceptance. This masterpiece, full of melodies that surface for a few measures, some of them never to return again, transforms the listener into a completely different experience with each listen, with its unique, indescribable power. Tomorrow will be exactly 120 years for a keen observer of history. Jenfapremiere (January 21, 1904, Mahen Theatre, Brno).
The lead role was also sung here, but it was sung longer in advance. Elektra, by a substitute. Bringing a different balance to the ensemble, Agneta Eichenholz replaced the harsh-toned Asmik Grigorian. Eichenholz’s clear, bright voice, though not always the strongest in tone, conveyed the young mother’s heartbreak and vulnerability. While Števa abandoned him, Nicky Spence – well suited to this repertoire – was the only one who brought his acting skills to the stage (this was not a semi-stage), drunkenly propping himself up on music stands and flexing his shoulders with goofy swagger.
Aleš Briscein’s Laca, first jealous, then devoted to forgiveness, made terrific use of his shrill, bright high tones. Katarina Karnéus’s dignified and painful Kostelnička aroused unusual sympathy. Carole Wilson’s Grandmother and Claire Barnett-Jones’ Herdswoman/Barena, both in character, spiced up the drama. The LSO choir and orchestra did their best; leader Benjamin Marquise Gilmore’s violin was extremely convincing, but all the instrumental solos were perfectly shot. The wires were well drilled. Seated outside the cellos, the violas seized their spotlight moments with remarkable endurance.
The circular intelligence and adaptability of Britain’s complex musical life (not to mention any financial need), let’s hear that quality is worth acknowledging in a week’s time. Jane Atkins, guest leader of the LSO’s viola section, had played solo viola at Kings Place the night before. The event was part of the opening weekend of the venue’s year-long Scotland Unwrapped series. five members Scottish CommunityAtkins joined forces, including Jasdeep Singh Degun (sitar) and Harkiret Singh Bahra (tabla) for a quixotic program that ranges from north Indian raga to Hildegard of Bingen. While joking, Degun had misheard the medieval nun’s status as “abbot” as “abscess”. I was never too sure of Hildegard’s sense of humour, and she was certainly not Scottish, but she would certainly have found this union of music very heavenly.
Star ratings (out of five)
Elektra ★★★★
Jenfa ★★★★
Scottish Community with Jasdeep Singh Degun ★★★★