Into the Little Hill

The one-hour opera that I saw tonight at the Jugendstiltheater, George Benjamin’s Into the Little Hill, was the fourth contemporary opera programmed as part of the Wiener Festwochen. The others were Michaels Reise, by Karlheinz Stockhausen (see earlier post); Jakob Lenz, by Wolfgang Rihm; and Phaedra, by Hans Werner Henze (posts to come for these two).

There are striking parallels among all of these relatively new operas. In each, the audience was subjected to bright light, either blinding, as in Jakob Lenz (where the subtitles couldn’t be read because of the wattage pouring right into the eyes), or intermittent (the circular steel ring floating above the orchestra, in Phaedra, shooting reflected rays of light around the space); or, in the case of the opera seen tonight, two vertical rectangles providing light and design (see photo). Michaels Reise was less aggressive in this respect, yet one major component of the set design was a large circular screen that both emitted visual phenomena, and functioned as a ‘receiver’ (a typical passive flat surface for projection) as well. Another commonality: the orchestras were fully visible in each of these four operas, and sometimes integrated into the stage action. This was most radical in Michaels Reise, with the protagonist (Micheal, the trumpet player) being hurled around in the air in a contraption that seemed like some insane fairground ride, and then landing next to musicians (who were on risers, stage right and left) with whom he performed duets. The orchestra in Jakob Lenz occupied nearly half the stage, and was set apart from the chaos (this was no minimalist production) by an overhanging rectangular umbrella that also served as a receptive screen for live video. The musicians, although occupying the same space as the singers, were clearly separate. Also true of Phaedra, but in this arrangement, the orchestra was situated smack in the middle of the hall, where normally the audience would sit (from about row 10 to the last row). Again, no interaction with the singers, but visually stunning, with the bridge leading from the orchestra past the audience seated on the ground floor (many of us were above, in balconies) to the stage.

The orchestra for Into the Little Hill was planted into piles of sawdust covering the stage, and was as much a part of the staging as the singers were, although the musicians of the Ensemble Modern performed ‘normally’, not engaging in any stage action. The Ensemble Modern, however, has a long history of blurring the boundaries between music and theater, especially in the works of Heiner Goebbels. Into the Little Hill, a lyrical tale, is an updated version of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Simplistic and clear, the minimalist set, with platforms for the two singers emerging from the two vertical light boxes, not only complemented the sparse libretto, but was a foil for the intricately scored music---always in motion, often delicate but harsh when necessary. Soprano Anu Komsi (on the right in photo) approached her extreme high notes fearlessly and the sound, without vibrato, seemed like an audible manifestation of the blindingly bright light boxes. My eyes are still burning from that light! She was spectacular. The contralto, Hilary Summers, sang the roles of the Minister and the Mother with great command and presence. The 12-piece orchestra, which included banjo and mandolin (played by the string players), was conducted with assurance and flair by Franck Ollu. Directed by Daniel Jeanneteau, and libretto written by Martin Crimp.