Einem - Der Prozess (Vienna, 2024)

Gottfried von Einem - Der Prozess

Theater an der Wien, Kammeroper Wien, 2024

Walter Kobéra, Stefan Herheim, Robert Murray, Anne-Fleur Werner, Alexander Grassauer, Timothy Connor, Leo Mignonneau, Valentino Blasina, Lukas Karzel, Philipp Schöllhorn, Fabian Tobias Huster

OperaVision - 12th December 2024

Kafka’s The Trial has remained not just a prescient work that looks like a nightmare that is increasingly becoming a reality, but it's also a book that has always been extraordinarily observant of human behaviour and its relationship to laws, regulations and conformity. Looked at dispassionately, the everyday rules and modes of behaviour that we accept as normal are anything but, and are in fact often contrary to human nature, controlling and restrictive. It's hard to look at that dispassionately however and at least as far as Kafka’s worldview of the arrest of Josef K. is concerned in The Trial, it can be seen rather as either completely absurd or quietly but deeply threatening. Or, since Kafka cannot be reduced to such simple analysis, it can be all of the above and quite a bit more besides.

Particularly when it comes to how a director like Stefan Herheim chooses to represent Kafka when faced with Gottfried von Einem’s 1953 opera version of Der Prozess. One thing Kafka's work is, for all the truth of its observations, is non-naturalistic. It, or indeed its lead figure Josef K., embraces the absurdity of the situation and takes it to extremes. Whether it's Josef K. who is guilty for whatever it is he has or hasn't done, whether it's the 'system' that is absurdly complicated by obscure, unnecessarily complex and sometimes contradictory rules, it's all part of the equation or unspoken contract that the citizen enters into in a kind of dance down a path that leaves no room for rational thought or individual discretion.

Herheim, in his usual metatheatrical way, take in the opera itself as means of showing the characters entering into a tightly choreographed predetermined progress through the drama. Set in Salzburg, presumably as the composer was Austrian, Josef K. - looking remarkably like the older white bearded and shock haired Gottfried von Einem - awakes to read in a book (presumably The Trial) and wonders why his normal routine has been disturbed, expecting - so the book says - that he expects to have his breakfast brought to him. This comes to the amusement of those, looking like younger replicas of himself, who have come to arrest him.

The indication - if you didn't know to expect this of director Stefan Herheim - is that we are in the mind of Gottfried von Einem as he considers how to put Der Prozess to music, and as he plays the role of the reluctant arrested man he even holds out a sheet of music as his identification papers. The main official who has advised him of his rights (or lack of them) is a bewigged conductor of the orchestra who are all outside his room, ready to lead him on merry dance through the proceedings.

It seems like absurdity is the direction that Herheim has chosen to present the situation of Josef K.'s trial, but there is a close attention to detail here, every bit of it striving to get to the heart of this curious situation - and curious opera evidently - and find out what it really says about the contract the individual believes they have entered into with society's expectations, laws and conventions. Josef K. is certain that he has committed no wrong, and since he lives in a civilised nation at peace where the rule of law holds sway, he will surely be believed and trusted by the state. They will surely see that there has been a mistake and he will be afforded treatment in accord with his human rights. And yet, he begins to doubt himself. If the state thinks he has done something wrong, well, surely it can't be for no reason?

It doesn't take a great deal of imagination to recognise this as the dilemma of many who have fallen foul of the state, of the authorities, of petty rule-enforcers. And, as is becoming increasingly evident, it's not just something that happens in nations under an impressive authoritarian rule (as we once perhaps naively thought, placing our trust in the rule of law), but that it seems to be the nature of the state (political leaders, parties) to seek to undermine, remove and destroy individual thought and dissent that might lead to their removal from power. It's a universal condition and one perhaps that needs to be recognised with the growing presence of generative AI that will eventually make many decisions for us in the future (sorry, I know it seems obligatory to shoehorn mention of AI into every review now).

Add to that some psychosexual impulses and religious guilt that pervade Josef K. or Kafka, a critique of bureaucracy as an end in itself, some self-hatred, insecurities and even a literal scene of self- flagellation and there is a lot to unpack here, without even getting into Herheim's metafictional and psychoanalytical treatment of it all. That element is even there in the original, in Josef K.'s dissatisfaction with how poorly the proceedings are being carried out and his belief that he could make a better job of his arrest and trial himself. That results here in the Einem figure turning into the lawyer half-way through. Well, he has been almost everyone else here, and since it operates with a kind of dream logic bordering on nightmare there are challenges in trying to tie The Trial down to any one simple rational reading, so better just embrace the absurdity of it all.

Of course that's just the kind of thing Stefan Herheim thrives on, bringing the creator and the creation into the mix as well as probing the undercurrents in the work and the creation. He has done so notably with Tchaikovsky (Eugene Onegin and The Queen of Spades for the Dutch National Opera) and with Wagner (Parsifal, Der Ring des Nibelungen), and successfully so, somehow grasping all the complexity and layers and yet making it readable and accessible (except to those expecting a conventional playing out of the original plot). He has plenty to work with in Einem's Der Prozess. It's a heck of a challenge, but typically Herheim manages to be faithful to the intent of the original, capturing the absurdity, the comedy, the psychological underpinning of fears and self-doubt, while turning the work inside out and offering his own unique visual style and interpretation with a reflection on the artistic act of musical creativity.

Composed in 1953, very much in the free all-embracing style of the contemporary music of the period, Eimens' music is wonderfully expressive and dynamic, performed here by the small but loud Klangforum Wien orchestra at the back of the An der Wien Kammeroper stage. The music jumps between short sections that capture the fast moving changes of the action and tone of the drama, with rhythmic pulses, marching arrangements, pumping brass and melodic woodwind playing and even hints of jazz. There is even a parody or reference to Puccini's Tosca for some unfathomable reason at one point (there is much in this work, in the music and the direction that is unfathomable). It reminds me of Prokofiev's playful approach to the developing absurdity of The Love of Three Oranges, and it works wonderfully for this work. Even those bits of Kafka that drag and frustrate the longer it goes on are mirrored here. 

It's debatable whether Herheim has anything to add to The Trial, but he certainly brings out certain elements well and gives much to think about. It's Einem however who pulls out all the stops in a musically rich and fascinating response to the work. Which means the orchestra compete to hold the attention with than the drama, and the superb musical direction of Walter Kobéra and the performance of the Klangforum Wien PPCM Academy of an arrangement of the score for chamber orchestra never ceases to impress. Combined with the busy activity on the small stage with a relatively large cast and Herheim adding additional figures, nothing is easy about this work, but the production design is marvellous at keeping it all together.

Although the production involves professional and students, everything about it is first-rate. In fact, it's the youthful element of the student singers that bring such an energy to the proceedings, working alongside and pushed by more experienced singers and musicians. Josef K. however would be a challenge for any singer, particularly faced with the layers and complexity that Herheim adds to the role, hence it has an experienced performer like Robert Murray taking the part. Anne-Fleur Werner has similar challenges having to play all the female singing roles (or single female in multiple Kafkaesque incarnations), many of them sexual situations, and she is excellent. But the rest of the cast similarly all have multiple roles and performance challenges and all are exceptionally good here. Ironically, for a work of literature that has the reputation of being intense and intimidating, Herheim and the cast - choosing not to execute Josef K. in this production - show that there is actually something liberating in the way Kafka's work opens up a new way of breaking the unspoken agreements and formal conventions between the individual and the state, and there is a similar sense of liberation in Einem's musical approach that is captured beautifully in the nature of this production.

External links: Theater an der Wien, OperaVision

Schreker - Der singende Teufel (Bonn, 2023)

Der singende Teufel - Franz Schreker

Theater Bonn, 2023

Dirk Kaftan, Julia Burbach, Mirko Roschkowski, Anne-Fleur Werner, Tobias Schabel, Dshamilja Kaiser, Pavel Kudinov, Carl Rumstadt, Tae Hwan Yun, Boris Beletskiy, Ava Gesell, Alicia Grünwald, Wooseok Shim, Hyoungjoo Yun

OperaVision - recorded 19th May 2023

The early twentieth century operas of Franz Schreker tend to be drenched in gothic horror and symbolism, heightened with lush beguiling orchestration that does tend to date them somewhat, aligning them with the likes of Marschner's Der Vampyr than with the more experimental direction music was to take under Schoenberg and the Second Viennese School around that time. Although there is a lot of silliness and dubious psychology in the self-penned libretti of Schreker's operas, there are nonetheless deeper issues that can be found underlying the melodrama, the folk tale treatment no less a valid means of touching on fundamental human questions than Wagner's explorations of legend and mythology.

That's not to say that Schreker comes close to what Wagner achieved in his works, but there is nothing inherently wrong with the method, and it can provide interesting insights when directed with attention to the subtext. Not that you get many opportunities to see Schreker's work performed. Two major works Die Gezeichneten and Der Schatzgräber are occasionally revived, others rarely, some almost never. Schreker's legacy has been affected of course to a large extent with him being a Jewish composer banned by the Nazis as well as the changing face of music at the turn of the 20th century, but some recent revivals of those rarer works have proved the value of his work sitting alongside other largely neglected German and Austrian operas from this period, where only Richard Strauss seems to have survived beyond the shadow of Wagner and the War.

Der singende Teufel, 'The Singing Devil', is a real rarity, one of those 'almost never' works, with not even a full recorded version of the opera out there. From the opening scene, portentous in his high drama and ominous in its symbolism, the familiar characteristics of a Schreker opera from Der ferne Klang up to Irrelohe which preceded it are all there to see. In some kind of fantasy Middle Ages setting, Amandus, an organ builder, is proud of the completion of work on his latest piece. The local priest Father Kaleidos however warns him that the magic organ that was father's legacy still needs to be addressed. Created to produce heavenly music, instead the monster organ emits only unearthly demonic sounds. His father went mad, but the organ remains and must be fixed to inspire others towards God.

Meanwhile in the cave of the Priestess Alardis, a pagan gathering chooses Lilian as their emissary to challenge the authority of the church. They want her to seduce Amandus, who they consider a fool and call "the monk". Somewhat deliriously, Amandus gets caught up in the pagan parade, seeing it all as some kind of mad dream brought on by proximity to the organ, but Alardis, Lilian and a drunken knight Sir Sinbrand pose a very real threat. In the ensuing struggle, Amandus is challenged by Sinbrand to a duel as he attempts to protect Lilian. The priest rescues Amandus and urges him to use the organ to repeal the pagan attack.

Schreker's previous opera Irrelohe seemed to mark a conclusion to the composer's neo-Romantic period, Der singende Teufel moving into the post-Romantic, but although there is less extravagant orchestration, musically as well as in terms of subject matter it remains very much in the individual idiom of the composer. The Theater Bonn production emphasises the personal themes in the work with a subtle change of Amadus from an organ maker to a musician who is striving to perfect his art. Decadence being a characteristic of Schreker's work, there seems - again like Der ferne Klang - to be special pleading in the tradition of Tannhäuser for the artist being unrestricted by traditional laws and morality. The symbolism of the organ is evident and even explained at the start of Act III. "The organ is like a person fulfilling tasks, controlled and guided by the soul. The bellows correspond to the lungs, the pipes the throat ...the soul the wind that sweeps through the bellows ..." It's about the battle for the soul of man, which competing religions think is their preserve, but it is the artist who reflects the better nature of man, or the fullness of nature, his art created under the spell of his own suffering.

Although it is somewhat overheated and dubious in its philosophy, it's not the subject or the music that present difficulties with Der singende Teufel as much as the often impenetrable and nonsensical utterances of the characters in the libretto. Aside from the theme outlined above, it doesn't really have a great deal else to say. It's easily reducible to 'good versus evil', not unlike his rather more entertaining final opera Der Schmied Von Gent. What this one amounts to, with the arrival of a pilgrim at the conclusion, is a round dismissal of all religions, where a belief in God is shown to be predicated upon the furthering of their own interests. Schreker, not unlike in Irrelohe, sees only one way out, which is destroying of such dangerous and inhibiting beliefs, an eradication of the old ways. The burning of the monster organ by Lilian brings a beauteous sound.

Evidently a great deal of the success of putting on a Franz Schreker opera and dealing with its more problematic questions and ideas rests with the production and the performances. The director Julia Burbach plays to the strengths of the work, such as they are, as a colourful entertainment with dramatic conflicts in the contrasting and opposing forces of good and evil. There is still plenty of symbolism there for you to pick apart or you can just enjoy the beauty of Schreker's score and choral arrangements. The transforming of Amandus as a musician helps bring Schreker's own personal experiences into the production, making it perhaps a little more meaningful, and Burbach introduces her own symbolism with 500 empty seats forming a cage and pages of music score scattered around to reflect Schreker’s preoccupations as the artist protagonist. Dancers also bring the conflict within the music to life.

The singing is good or at least adequate for the most part. The roles of Lilian and Amadus have their challenges in terms of the size of the roles and the dramatic expression of their individual torments, but both tough central roles are performed well. Mirko Roschkowski has that high light lyrical tenor role with a little bit of steely strength that is needed for this kind of role and convinces entirely as Amandus. Anne-Fleur Werner is a little light in places but brings commitment and intensity to the role of Lilian. Tobias Schabel sings the Priest well, Pavel Kudinov is good as Sir Sinbrand, Dshamilja Kaiser a little on the weak side as Alardis, but is often set against choral singing which can be hard to rise above. It looks like Theater Bonn used stage microphones rather than radio mics for this streamed recording on OperaVision, so it would be difficult to give an accurate account of the singing, but this is definitely a good overall production of a rare Schreker work.

External links: Theater Bonn, OperaVision