Philippe Manoury - Kein Licht
L'Opéra Comique, Paris - 2017
Julien Leroy, Nicolas Stemann, Sarah Maria Sun, Olivia Vermeulen, Christina Daletska, Lionel Peintre, Niels Bormann, Caroline Peters
Salle Favart, Paris - 21st October 2017
Kein Licht is not strictly speaking an opera. It's so avant-garde that the composer Philippe Manoury had to come up with a new term to describe it; a Thinkspiel. Or, to give it its full title, it's "Kein Licht (2011/2012/2017): A Thinkspiel by Philippe Manoury and Nicolas Stemann, for actors, singers, musicians and real-time electronic music, adapted from a text by Elfriede Jelinek". It doesn't sound all that different then from most contemporary operas and Kein Licht isn't as ground-breaking as it thinks it is, but there are certainly some new and quite surprising innovations here.
Kein Licht is however at least a very considered work, one that not only strives to deeply examine its subject, but also tries to consider what role of a contemporary opera is and how it can best reach an audience. A contemporary opera should use all the resources at its command; theatrical effects, projections, 3-D graphics, electronic music, amplification if necessary, actors as well as singers, and it should use all these means to deliver a message that is relevant, entertaining and accessible even to an audience who wouldn't go to a traditional opera. Kein Licht does well on most of those points, but I'm not so sure about the last one.
It certainly has the best of intentions. Instead of spending a year writing, composing, rehearsing a work that would at most get four performances in a Paris theatre, there was clearly a greater effort to extend the life and the outreach of Kein Licht. It was developed as a co-production with the Ruhrtriennale, the Opéra national du Rhin and the Festival Musica in Strasbourg where it played before making its opening at the newly restored Salle Favart of the Paris Opéra Comique. Crowd-funding also played a part in the work's creation, and the word has been spread through extensive promotion, radio interviews, scientific conferences, YouTube videos and a radio broadcast of the Festival Musica performance. This performance on the 21st October at the Opéra Comique was captured on video for a live web broadcast. There was clearly a great belief in the project and an effort to get it out there.
It's all the more important that the resources put into creating Kein Licht reach a wide audience, since the opera is indeed about making the best use of energy, or to be more precise, it's about how we unthinkingly consume the world's resources without any consideration of the consequences. The jumping off point for consideration of these themes is a series of writings by Nobel Prize winning writer Elfriede Jelinek following the 2011 meltdown of the Fukushima nuclear reactors in Japan. Director Nicolas Stemann, who has worked on lyrical and dramatic presentations of Jelinek's texts before, notably with Olga Neuwirth, worked with composer Philippe Manoury to bring these thoughts to the stage in what would appear to be the only way possible; in a 'Thinkspiel'.
The manner in which the subject is approached is plain enough, but the presentation is a little more complicated. A lot more complicated actually. Jelinek's thoughts on the subject are divided into the three parts of the time of their writing - 2011, 2012 and 2017. Part I - 2011 deals with thoughts around the disaster of Fukushima and the danger (and the actuality) of its warning not being heeded. Part 2 - 2012 then looks at a world in denial, even as the disaster unfolds, people taking selfies as the world falls apart around them, belatedly realising that they soon won't have power for the batteries of their iPhones. Part III - 2017 has the more difficult task of looking at where we are now in a world that appears to be rushing headlong into madness, with global warning being ignored and disputed, with nuclear warheads being launched, and Trump at loggerheads with North Korea.
That makes Kein Licht sound rather more coherent than it actually is. Jelinek's texts, imagery and associations are often obscure, even if what lies behind them is clear enough. There is obviously no dramatic narrative as such and no characters either in the Thinkspiel. Two actors A and B perform/declaim/act out the texts and the suggestion is that they can be seen as opposing aspects of the human conscience, or as elementary particles in nuclear physics, while four singers (mezzo-soprano, soprano, contralto and baritone) and a chorus also with undefined roles provide lyrical expression of the ideas on a set of leaking nuclear reactors that collapses into complete meltdown leaving a flooded world. In terms evoking an appropriate mood, it's certainly representative of a state of chaos in thinking and in behaviour.
As the title Kein Licht perhaps indicates, Manoury references Stockhausen, albeit adopting a contrary position ("Without Light") to Stockhausen's cycle of a utopian vision in Licht ("Light"). Musically too, Stockhausen is an undeniable influence as one of the great electronic music innovators and visionaries. Manoury relies on many of the same extended techniques, but does take things further. Thanks to modern technology and research developed by IRCAM, Manoury is able to be freer with live electronics, auto-generating music that is responsive to live performance, synthesising live singing with the sound world to create new musical sounds. Some of it - most of it - is lyrical, dramatic, plaintive and creative. The howl of a live dog 'sings' at the start of Part I for example, and in Part II is joined by the other singers howling to create the most extraordinary live chorus unlike anything else in music.
Such innovations are to be found throughout Kein Licht, in the music performed by United instruments of Lucilin and conducted by Julien Leroy and in the theatrical presentation that creates 3-D graphics in real-time. While it is a fascinating work from that point of view and unquestionably responsive to the subject, the treatment and the situations, it does still feel a little over-worked to the cost of delivering the important message in the most effective manner possible. Manoury himself appears on stage and on live projection as part of the performance, explaining the musical ideas, what we are listening to and what we are seeing, which does unquestionably help understand what the creators are trying to get across. A synopsis given out at the theatre also proves essential to following what is going on, otherwise Kein Licht could prove to be just too clever and risk leaving its audience completely bewildered.
Kein Licht has to be seen on those terms, replete with its footnotes and commentaries. Which is not to say that it fails in its endeavour since it's not conventional theatre or conventional opera that tells you what it thinks or plays out a drama. It is indeed a Thinkspiel and that means that it is about bringing in involvement and being responsive to it, looking at itself and being reflective. It's even self-critically aware that it is part of a hugely wasteful capitalist system and as such a drain on precious resources that the planet will eventually have to pay for, but that's all part of the complicated A/B dialectic that the viewer themselves has to come to terms with. Entertaining, innovative and thought-provoking but chaotic, contradictory and often confusing, the response to Kein Licht is likely to be similarly divided.
Links: L'Opéra Comique, ARTE Concert
Francesco Filidei - Giordano Bruno
Théâtre de Gennevilliers, Paris - 2016
Léo Warynski, Antoine Gindt, Lionel Peintre, Jeff Martin, Ivan Ludlow, Guilhem Terrail, Laura Holm, Eléonore Lemaire, Johanne Cassar, Lorraine Tisserant, Charlotte Schumann, Aurélie Bouglé, Benjamin Aguirre Zubiri, David Tricou, René Ramos Premier, Julien Clément, Antoine Kessel, Florent Baffi
ARTE Concert - 19th April 2016
There's clearly a very considered and structured approach taken by composer Francesco Filidei in relation to both the philosophical and musical content of his opera about Giordano Bruno. Interrogated by the Inquisition in Venice and condemned to death by the Catholic Church in Rome for blasphemy and heresy for putting his belief in scientific truths before religious dogma and mysticism, the Dominican friar was burned at the stake on 17th February 1600. Filidei's work attempts to give voice to his philosophical thoughts as well as dramatising his trial and execution and it results in a tremendous piece of musical theatre.
Filidei's opera divides the work into twelve scenes that interweave across the two halves of the work, the first taking place in Venice, the other in Rome. The twelve scenes themselves are divided between giving a voice to Bruno's philosophical ideas, with alternative scenes showing how he suffers for them at the hands of the religious authorities who will not have their faith challenged. That's a strong enough construct that allows for drama and contemplation and it's a blend that the composer and his librettist Stefano Busellato treat extraordinarily well, the ideas and situations providing the composer with the opportunity to create a rich sound world.
As a further measure, to add to the richness of the work and give further robustness to the construction, Filidei chooses to base each of the twelve scenes around each of the notes of the chromatic scale. The opera's first scene 'Preamble' - set in the smoking ruins in the aftermath of the auto-da-fé - starts on F-sharp, with subsequent scenes based on the trial following a descending path on the scale, while the scenes relating to Giordano Bruno's philosophy each start on an ascending note on the scale. The burning at the stake in Scene 11 runs through the chromatic scale again in reverse until scene 12 arrives at F-sharp again.
More than just being a technical trick, Filidei's sound world in Giordano Bruno is one that relates very closely to the situation, and particularly to the vocal expression. Some scenes are spare and atmospheric with repetitive phrasing of voices in the style of Salvatore Sciarrino, others multi-layered with choral sounds that draw influence from the Renaissance era of the work, of Palestrina by way of Claude Vivier (whose Kopernikus comes very much to mind here). Filidei's writing however is strong enough to encompass the vast range of the work's philosophical content, its consideration of life and death, of the exuberance of life in a carnival scene, in an escapist fantasy while in a prison cell, or in the full horror of a barbaric ritual execution.
At every stage however, there is great attention paid to the use of voices and the range of voices. Giordano Bruno is sung by a baritone (Lionel Peintre here running through a whole range of emotional and physical challenges), the Inquisitors are a tenor and a bass, with Pope Clement VIII sung by a countertenor. Also of great importance to the whole fabric of the work are the twelve individual voices of the chorus who contribute to provide an almost celestial or spiritual side to the work, as well as a very physical human presence as the voice of the people. They are a wave of flesh and ideas that Bruno has to alternately reach out to and then resist, an embodiment of the conflict he undergoes over the course of the twelve scenes.
Filmed at the Théâtre de Gennevilliers in Paris in 2016 not long after its creation and premiere at the Casa de Musica in Porto, it's hard to imagine the work being any better presented. The direction of the Ensemble Intercontemporain is taken up by Léo Warynski, and - set to the back of the stage - their presence emphasises how important the sound world is for this opera, how it creates a specific mood, and it draws attention to just how complex and varied the music is in relation to each of its scenes.
The stage sets and props are minimal, but likewise effective for the content and the tone of the work. A huge moon-like hemisphere hangs over the stage and the use of lighting all contribute to capturing the reality, the philosophy and an understanding of the nature of the world being explored and challenged here, which is nothing less than infinity and the place of man within it. The dramatic sequences are just as well depicted, again using simple effects and minimal props to give a sense of the forces massed against Giordano Bruno and the fate that is in store for him, and those final scenes at the stake indeed have a terrific impact.
The attention given over to the musical performance and the scene setting are all there however to serve as a platform for the all-important human presence on the stage. The place of man is at the centre of all these ideas, rituals, philosophy and beliefs and the conflicts between them are all focussed through the figure of Giordano Bruno. Lionel Peintre carries the weight of this conflict with a terrific singing performance, but Filidei makes such marvellous use of the voice that the strength of those ideas and the conflicts between seem to assail him from every side. The physicality of the performances, with the chorus and dancers also having an important part to play, gives the words real weight, showing the power of ideas and ideals to change the world.
Sébastian Rivas - Aliados
Festival Musica, Théâtre de Hautepierre de Strasbourg, 2013
Léo Warynski, Antoine Gindt, Nora Petročenko, Lionel Peintre, Mélanie Boisvert, Thill Mantero, Richard Dubelski
ARTE Live Web Internet Streaming, 4th October 2013
Presented at the 2013 Festival Musica in Strasbourg (and streamed live via ARTE Live Web on 4th October), Aliados is a somewhat experimental opera work from Sébastian Rivas that mixes avant-garde Ircam electronics with acoustic instruments and voices. There's also a modern approach taken to the staging of the work with the use of live cameras projecting, highlighting and enhancing the dramatic action. Perhaps most interesting aspect of Aliados however is the subject matter of the work which sets out in real-time a 75-minute meeting on 26th March 1999 between the Chilean President in exile Augusto Pinochet and the former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, who had only recently been forced to step down from her position.
More than just a two-person dialogue, there are actually more people involved, and the work does successfully extend outside the room to the outside world where the actions of these two people once had a much wider impact. This aspect is indeed so vital that it the opera even opens with an Argentinian soldier, shell-shocked and tormented by the Falklands war, writhing on the stage, who reappears at a later stage to emphasise in barked delivery that he was "conscripted into the theatre of operations ...for nothing", by "generals, assassins and pirates".
There's definitely a sense of confusion as to what it was all for, but a determined sense of self-justification as the work progresses on the part of Pinochet and Thatcher. Pinochet is clearly ill, slumped in a wheelchair, his memory failing, making confused and fragmentary comments about a "beautiful ship", "The Phoenix", "Pearl Harbour" and the Second World War. An aide, who is preparing his medication and keeping a register of the Senator's "achievements" (lists of deaths, arrests and the disappeared) tells him that he's thinking of the Belgrano, sunk by British forces during the Falklands War. Pinochet, longing for the "blood-covered streets of Santiago", has no regrets for the deaths caused by his regime, raving that it necessary for "national unity" and that it was Allende and the Communists who are really to blame for the problems in Chile.
Baroness Thatcher arrives with her personal secretary and the two former world leaders exchange gifts of their own biographies, in mutual admiration for themselves and each other. Grateful for his aid during the Falklands conflict, Thatcher offers Pinochet political asylum and talks about needing to "keep her head" for a statue that is being cast to stand in Westminster, but her speech is marked by gaps and it seems clear that her mind is also failing. Eventually, both slump into their chairs in defeat, only to be revived by troubling memories resurfacing, Pinochet preoccupied over descriptions of himself as a dictator, the Iron Lady recalling the miners and the Belgrano, slipping into refrain of "it was a danger to our ships... that is fact" on an electronic loop that forms a mournful chorus of self-justification.
Both the music and the staging are vital in establishing this very particular mood and make some effort to get beneath the surface of these larger-than-life characters towards some semblance of personality if not exactly humanity. Stage director Antoine Gindt manages to give a sense of the encounter taking place in real-time by using multiple cameras that project details and close-ups. He also captures something of the closed room mentality of the protagonists within the limits that mark out the square room, but also gives a wider sense of who they are and how their actions have had a wider impact beyond the walls of the room by having the floor made up of a collage of photographs and newspaper articles related to the Falklands War, with additional images and footage projected on the screen behind.
Rivas' score works in a similar fashion, the music - played out mainly on solo violin with trombone, piano and saxophone - has percussive elements that are insistent in a militaristic way when referring to the wars and deaths. Through some computer manipulation and electronic effects - applied to the voices as much as the instruments - the score also manages to reflect the wavering, distorted mentalities of Pinochet and Thatcher, the sound haunting and twisted, backed by drones and random noises.
In some respects the subject matter of Aliados is similar to John Adams' Nixon in China in as much as it touches on the god-like delusions of the powerful and the reality of the frailty of the human mind and personality. Aliados however is much more chamber-like and intimate in its observations, the libretto free from the poetical observations and abstractions of Nixon in China, avoiding making any specific political or social observations that the meeting between Thatcher and Pinochet might signify. It's much more a sonic exploration of two personalities of common accord in their common discord.
It seems appropriate that the two even dance a tango of a somewhat disturbing if tender nature, a dance over the dead by two former "Defenders of the the Atlantic", two allies ("aliados") confined now to the smallness of a room and the terrors of their own disintegrating minds. A sad account of the endgame of leaders who abuse power and wage war - particularly on their own people - Aliados is unquestionably a work of extraordinary intensity that has relevance to many other contemporary world situations.
Aliados is currently still available for viewing on-line via the ARTE Live Web site. The opera is sung in English and Spanish, with only French subtitles provided.
