Pfitzner - Palestrina (Vienna, 2024)

Hans Pfitzner - Palestrina

Wiener Staatsoper, 2024

Christian Thielemann, Herbert Wernicke, Michael Spyres, Wolfgang Koch, Wolfgang Bankl, Günther Groissböck, Kathrin Zukowski, Patricia Nolz, Michael Nagy, Michael Laurenz, Michael Kraus, Hiroshi Amako, Jusung Gabriel Park, Clemens Unterreiner, Devin Eatmon, Andrew Turner, Ilja Kazakov, Teresa Sales Rebordão, Marcus Pelz 

Staatsoper Live Streaming - 12th December 2024

It isn't often you get the opportunity to hear Hans Pfitzner's music or operas, which is a shame as Palestrina is a beautifully scored and arranged opera, but there are some valid reasons for this omission. Some composers fall out of fashion, their works no longer attractive to a modern audience and certainly the subject of Palestrina - an opera set around the Pope giving his approval at the Synod of the Council of Trent in 1563 for polyphonic music to be used in the composition of a mass - is not one that sounds like it will draw in big audiences. There are also are considerable challenges for orchestral and choral elements to consider, but perhaps the main reason why Pfitzner is rarely programmed are nothing to do with the quality of his music, but with the legacy of his association with the Nazis and antisemitism.

Whatever the reasons, Palestrina is rarely performed and it's true that the subject is a hard one to sell to a modern opera audience. Although it forms a considerable part of Act II, the opera is not really concerned with discussions between archbishops and cardinals disputing obscure esoteric religious dogma and heresies, but rather there is a clear underlying intent. Make that overt intent, since the opera is called Palestrina, after all, named after the choir master of Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome, Pierluigi Palestrina, who is tasked with the formidable and momentous task of writing music that will make polyphonic music an acceptable part of the celebration of the Catholic mass. It's then really about celebrating the magnificence of music, about celebrating composers for their art, for how they suffer to create. Through Palestrina, Pfitzner gives due recognition to “the art of masters of many centuries”, to those who have contributed significantly to their art. And that includes Richard Wagner, whose Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg is a clear reference point for Palestrina.

Still, a word-heavy, long-winded opera about an ancient former papal composer giving thanks to God through music isn't going to appeal to the masses either (not to be confused with appealing to masses in the religious sense) and Palestrina is indeed heavy going but, as with any great opera, you would expect there to be some correspondence with a deeper human experience, or perhaps a more common one, since you don't get much more elevated than striving to reach into the spiritual realm of human experience. Pierluigi Palestrina’s suffering that perhaps inspires such creativity is indeed a human one; sorrow for the loss of his wife. At the beginning of the opera however, still in the depths of grief, all inspiration has deserted him and he is unreachable. Such is the depth of his loss that he has no confidence that he can accept the commission from Cardinal Borromeo to write a new work, an eternal mass, and indeed he no longer even sees the point of value of his metier. He has reached Faustian levels of despair, abandoning himself to the of 'Rien'. Evidently though in this case Palestrina doesn't submit to Mephistopheles but to a higher power; music. 

Somewhat appropriately then, Palestrina is far from a 'one-note' opera then, but has many levels in its progression through its three acts. Just as Palestrina is the missing a note in the chord, so too pouring all the human contradictions and complexes that arise over the doubts, fears and all other kinds of human experiences - greed and pride come into play between the religious orders in Act II - all feed into the score that Pfitzner uses this to construct a foundation and embellish it with beauty and spirituality. Voices, the outward manifestation of human expression is fully involved in this, from the individual grappling with their fears, weaknesses and limitations to the choral togetherness that elevates it and joins it with the rest of the world.

Bringing in the Council of Trent and its aims, its religious, political and powerplays is another complication. Can polyphonic church music wrung from a reluctant choir master unite all the reform of ecumenical matters that are subject to discussion, dispute, heresy and schism, fraying tempers, the assertion of dominance of Pope or Emperor, carving up their domains of power and influence? Well, at long as you don't bring the Protestants into it! Despite the apparently elevated subject matter, the opera is not without a sense of humour at the pomposity and entitlement of it all, but there is a sense that power is respected and, where is the will, distinguished leaders can reach agreement and bring about important change. Not sure anyone who was following the outcome of COP29 will agree that this is a valid argument, but Pfitzner makes a compelling case for it here.

Directed by Herbert Wernicke, the production in Vienna matches intent of both sides of the work well, bringing music and majesty, order and elegance to the stage. The effects and sets are basic but effective. For Palestina's grappling with his muse and his human condition, there is an array of tiers for an orchestra with a large church organ, the back of the stage opening to reveal a chorus, heavenly choirs and angelic voices bringing light from darkness. It's almost overwhelming, which is the effect it should be aiming to achieve. Likewise for the Synod, the music stands are removed and the seats rearranged for the chamber, the assembled cardinals and archbishops all arranged in order of importance, stretching back and upwards into the choir gallery. There is none of the elaborate day-glo colour schemes of the Bayerische Staatsoper production from 2009, the only recorded stage production of this opera.

All credit to the Wiener Staatsoper for giving this work another opportunity to confirm that this is truly a magnificent opera. Whatever you think about what history has to say about the human weaknesses and failings of Hans Pfitzner, like Luigi Palestrina he manages to compose music that lives on beyond its creator. If the conservative nature of his writing has proved not to be the work of a master who went on to inspire other masters on a musical level, it nonetheless has an important message to impart - and a challenge to incorporate it - about the transcendental qualities of music, of how an artist can rise above human earthly constraints to aspire to a higher spiritual level.

That's still a challenge to get across in an epic work of this length, and it's clear that it needs the highest level of performance and interpretation here to lift it up to its fullness. With Christian Thielemann at the helm, attention to detail and considered personal interpretation is assured. The casting is also superb with excellent performances throughout. Familiar with Michael Spyres mainly as a lyric tenor who can sing baritone with a sweetness of voice that is ideal for Rossini and Mozart, I was thoroughly impressed with his performance as Pierluigi Palestrina. Considering that he has to embody the spiritual, the artist, the human, there is a lot to take on and a lot of singing for intense though well-dispersed periods of a long opera. Wolfgang Koch is also excellent in the role of Cardinal Borromeo.

External links: Wiener Staatsoper, Wiener Staatsoper Live Streaming

Gluck - Iphigénie en Aulide/Iphigénie en Tauride (Aix-en-Provence, 2024)

Christoph Willibald Gluck - Iphigénie en Aulide and Iphigénie en Tauride

Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, 2024

Emmanuelle Haïm, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Corinne Winters, Russell Braun, Véronique Gens, Alasdair Kent, Florian Sempey, Stanislas de Barbeyrac, Alexandre Duhamel, Nicolas Cavallier, Soula Parassidis, Lukáš Zeman, Tomasz Kumięga, Timothé Rieu, Daphné Guivarch

ARTE Concert - 11th July 2024

The important and influential reforms that Christoph Willibald Gluck brought to opera seria are still impressive and remain an evident feature in his versions of two connected Greek dramas for the French stage, Iphigénie en Aulide (1774) and Iphigénie en Tauride (1779). If you are used to viewing opera seria - and there have been many opportunities to revisit some of these great works in an authentic form over recent years - Gluck’s concise, minimal compositional form and the dramatic drive of through-composition feels thoroughly modern compared to the old traditional recitative and da capo aria form. And since the Greek dramas still have meaning that tells us about something about human experience in the modern world, so too do they benefit from this being highlighted in a modern production. All the more so when the two works are staged side by side as a single unit by Dmitri Tcherniakov for the 2024 Aix-en-Provence Festival 

Even the manner in which each of the works are presented on the stage allows for a continuous flow of drama that allows those themes to be better connected and explored. The overture for Iphigénie en Aulide shows Agamemnon's nightmare of carrying through his intention to sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia, demanded by the gods to ensure the safe passage of the Greek forces to Troy. Despite his pleas to Calchas, the Gods and even trying to ensure that Iphigenia doesn't arrive in Aulis, his efforts are in vain. The nightmare has a force of its own that will see it carried though by the time we get to the conclusion. The danger of what lies ahead remains as a driving force all the way through the opera, even if it doesn't come to pass that way in the opera, except for this one where it kind of does...

You can feel it even when, led to believe that Achilles who Iphigenia is to be married to has been unfaithful, Clytemnestra immediately pleads with her daughter to leave, but Iphigenia wants to find out the truth. There is an urgency here in the drama, in the music, which you can imagine intensifies as the drama progresses. There is no time for self-indulgent arias that stop the flow so that the tenor, soprano or mezzo-soprano can reflect on their misfortune. The dilemma can be felt, discussions and exchanges must be made (and perhaps there is still some aspects remaining for the seria form) but every scene feels like it is moving the drama forward, that events are happening quickly and there is an immediate need to act. The production bears that out while all the time maintaining an unreal air of regal sang froid, propriety and elegance, again all of which can be heard in the music. And in the voice, with Corrine Winters impressive in the title role.

Gluck's sense of pure musical drama is perhaps still not fully formed in Iphigénie en Aulide, and it is considered the lesser of the two works performed here. It's certainly less frequently staged than Iphigénie en Tauride. I personally don't buy into the idea of lesser Gluck. Lesser is just never a word I would use to describe any Gluck opera. Even his pre-reform works (all too rarely revived, alas) are superb and have their own qualities. It's not even a question of refinement, just that the later works benefit from a greater unity of form and content. It's hard however to see any weakness in Iphigénie en Aulide, particularly when it is well directed, as it is here. The music is beautiful and the sentiments are sincerely expressed without over-emphasis. It's a serious matter, a horrific one, a father about to sacrifice his daughter. You would actually expect there to be more outrage at the situation, but there is that element of knowing their duty, following the will of the gods and Iphigenia's love for her father, so instead it is profound grief that is evident here and expressed beautifully in the music and the singing.

To possibly overstate the relationship between the music and the direction, you could see the same intentions reflected in Elena Zaytseva set showing the house of Agamemnon as a house with transparent walls. It's elegant and stately, but there is nothing that can be kept hidden behind its doors. Tcherniakov takes that consistent worldview approach in most of his productions now, and it's evident here in the gloomy sepia tones, in the corruption of the royal family. The lengths to which they are prepared to go to cannot be overstated, so Tcherniakov puts it up there. The dream played out in the overture is a terrible presentiment and with the uniformity of the stage setting you can feel that tension reach a peak as Iphigenia dresses for wedding and brings herself closer to the terrible fate that awaits her after the celebrations. You see the nightmare unfold and repeat before your eyes.

We are dealing with mythology here so there is or should be no need to align this with any modern reality, although Krzysztof Warlikowski certainly managed to use contemporary themes successfully in his production of Gluck's Alceste. To say it's just mythology however doesn't take away from the human experience that Gluck presents in his version of Racine's tragedy, and it is enough for Tcherniakov to get that across. As well as highlighting the horror faced by Iphigenia, he doesn't neglect the fact that it is also a difficult duty for Agamemnon as a father, taking into account the contradiction between the public and private aspects of a king who needs to appear firm, commanding, brooking no doubt, no argument. Gluck's score bears all the complexity of these competing demands, Russell Braun's Agamemnon bringing this out in a fury out of remorse.

Considering the dramatic drive, there is nonetheless a variety of sentiments expressed. The wonderful dance music for the celebrations for Achilles and Iphigenia's marriage are retained and fit in well, and Achilles has a considerable part to play in the variations of tone and character as a figure caught in the middle of this absurd affair. Achilles is sung brilliantly by Alasdair Kent in the high tenor range, abruptly interrupting the course of events (and even the course of the music), and Véronique Gens is superb as Clytemnestra, inhabiting the role, responding with the dramatic expression of an expectantly grieving mother. That said, the sentiments expressed are limited by the singular drive of the situation towards a horrific notion of sacrifice, which might account for why the work is not more often revived.

As such it's a good idea then to expand the production to pair Iphigénie en Aulide with Iphigénie en Tauride, making this Aix-en-Provence production more of a fuller experience. It's been done before, relatively successfully at the Dutch National Opera. Tcherniakov however has a habit of overturning expectations and killing off figures who don't usually expire at the end of the opera and keeps alive those who traditionally die at the conclusion. At least here you would expect him to keep he needs to keep Iphigenia alive for "Part 2", but, well, that wouldn't be like Tcherniakov to make things easy now, would it? The impact of the family joining in a celebratory dance of death at the conclusion is certainly effective in its own way.

Iphigénie en Tauride is indeed then like a mirror image of Iphigénie en Aulide, Part 2: The Nightmare Continues. And indeed it opens with another nightmare, that of Clytemnestra murdering her husband Agamemnon. It takes place in the same outline of the house, only this time only a framework remains, sometimes neon lit (like Tcherniakov's Lulu), which when dulled down takes the appearance of a cage, a prison. Again, it's the overall tone that is important to the director, to establish the character of the work and make it effective rather than trying to find a way to make the archaic mythology work as a drama. Tcherniakov appropriately then plays Iphigénie en Tauride like it was Strauss’s Elektra, the tone one of the weight of crimes bringing increasing derangement and madness. Which is to be expected also on an island that executes any visitors, including a couple of shipwrecked Greek sailors who arrive there. Orestes too is damaged, deranged, tormented and full of aggression from his experiences.

Another characteristic found in Dmitri Tcherniakov productions is his intention to humanise works, bringing elevated mythological themes down to a level where everyone can relate to what is going on. There are no mystical priestesses in robes here, no high priest, as for example with the Met production. The inhabitants of Tauris look like refugees, like Tcherniakov's Knights of the Holy Grail in his Parsifal, wrapped up in heavy clothing to protect against the elements. The framework of a set becomes more a place of the mind here, an echo or a shadow of Aulis, where Orestes murders his mother in a ghostly recurrent nightmare. With its use of lighting illuminating scenes from the waking nightmare, it strikes a contrast that explores the work from the human experience as well as the deeper level of the psychological impact. As such, it reflects of course Gluck's musical exploration of the tone, mood and intent of the work.

Considering how he left things at the conclusion of Aulide, you can be sure that the director will - and consequently needs to - reinvent what takes place at the conclusion of this work, but it also has an impact elsewhere. Tcherniakov very much underplays the traditional key scene of the revelation of brother and sister. There is a gap of shocked silence, but Iphigenia seems to already know it's Orestes and is just waiting on her brother to finally acknowledge the reality of the tragic family misfortune. And again, it would be wrong to think that it's just Orestes who has suffered. As in Aulide, the goddess Diana (Soula Parassidis) appears at the conclusion as a double of Iphigenia. Quite what you are to make of that and how much psychoanalytical examination you want to subject the work to is up to you, but it's consistent in its reference back to what takes place in Aulis. What is perhaps more worthy of consideration is how this applies to the state of the world today, to current wars where victims become executioners. The horror of that doesn't need to be spelled out.

Whether you like Tcherniakov's work on the operas or not, the intentions are sincere and thought-provoking. What is not questionable however is the quality of these works themselves and the impact they have in this production by the joining the two operas together. The singing in Iphigénie en Tauride relies as much in the impact of the choral work, which was excellent throughout, as it does on Orestes and Iphigenia. Both Florian Sempey and Corrine Winters were fine, but it was certainly more of a challenge for Winters, singing two operas back-to-back and the latter in a lower tessitura than she would normally sing. It felt a little less dynamic as a result, but the direction also called for a muted performance here. The real winner here was Gluck, the music side-by-side, back-to-back and end-to-end doubly glorious under the baton of conductor Emmanuelle Haïm.

External links: ARTE Concert, Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, Aix Festival Digital Stage