Showing posts with label Vasily Barkhatov. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vasily Barkhatov. Show all posts

Sunday, 8 November 2026

Zemlinsky - Eine florentinische Tragödie, Bartók - Duke Bluebeard's Castle (Vienna, 2026)

Alexander von Zemlinsky - Eine florentinische Tragödie 
Béla Bartók - Duke Bluebeard's Castle

Wiener Staatsoper, 2026

Alain Altinoglu, Vasily Barkhatov, Asmik Grigorian, Florian Boesch, Christopher Maltman

Wiener Staatsoper livestream - 10th October 2026

The scandal surrounding Oscar Wilde's trial, imprisonment and death meant that his name was not spoken about in polite British society at the beginning of the 20th century, but the European attitude towards the writer was clearly very different. Wilde was still popular with the dramatists and composers in Europe, where his work continued to be translated and performed. The most notable adaptation - and still one of the boldest - is of course Richard Strauss's Salome - the composer finding within that play a dark decadence that was in tune with the times. Alexander von Zemlinsky chose a different side of Wilde for his two short operas; Der Zwerg based on the fairy tale 'The Birthday of the Infanta' and Eine florentinische Tragödie from the play 'A Florentine Tragedy'. There is nothing in Wilde's other work quite like Salome, but you can find the same sensibility of dark decadence also permeates his other writing in a way that clearly appealed to European composers interested in developments in modern psychology, human behaviour and new ways of viewing the world at the beginning of the 20th century.

The aspects and the insights that drew Zemlinsky to the tale in relation to human behaviour remain interesting and worth continuing to develop and explore, and that means that there is a subtle but significant change in the relationship between the three characters involved in this Vienna State Opera production of Eine florentinische Tragödie as a domestic drama. Domestic suggests perhaps, dull, common, gritty and real world, but there is no getting away from the fact that the short opera is adapted from an unfinished play by Oscar Wilde, and unlike his more famous satirical plays of Victorian manners, class and society, this work has the same flowing flowery imagery as his Salome. The floweriness of course is just a cover for a deeper expressions of intent than is visible in the surface exchanges.

All the more so in the nature of the dialogue exchanged between the two men when Simone (Christopher Maltman) returns home from his work as a travelling salesman to find another man in his house with his wife Bianca (Asmik Grigorian). In a subtle change, somewhat necessary to remove the class satire and period mannerism of the original, Guido Bardi (Florian Boesch) is not a prince here but a psychologist who is advising Bianca on her marriage difficulties. Using the situation to express himself in a polite subtle manner that nonetheless leaves little doubt about his actual displeasure (this mincing with words is catching), Simone brings out his wares pretending to assume that since the unwelcome guest clearly isn't a relative, he must surely be there to examine his goods (see what I did there?).

Just to emphasise what is being said beneath all the fine expressions, suggestive passive-aggressive behaviour mixed in with salesman patter, Simone whips out his wife's wedding dress and his own wedding tuxedo, alluding (no need to be too subtle) that these are the goods that Guido is really after (just thought I'd make that clear). Just as capable of making his own position clear while dressing it up in fine language, Guido boasts that he is willing to pay double the price, to which Simone makes a counter-offer that suggests that since they are spoiled goods and not worth the price, he will offer him a cut price reduction and a split of any profit. As this rate it is not long before the two men really get to the heart of the matter.

And all this is relished by Zemlinsky. The musical arrangement of Eine florentinische Tragödie is accordingly lush and florid, highlighting the barbs and threats in the undercurrents. Simone is given freedom to express himself in grand declamations and Christopher Maltman, a fine actor and singer, makes the most of that here. Women don't have as much of a place amidst all this macho chest-beating, and as such - despite being the centre of attention - Asmik Grigorian as Bianca has little presence; a plaything bartered between the two men. Their reputation and keeping up appearances is more important than any woman. It's a playful and brilliant work, if not greatly revealing nor as revolutionary as Salome, even if it takes a darker turn in this Vienna production directed by Vasily Barkhatov.

As is often the case two different works are paired, there is however another unexpected resonance introduced when Béla Bartók's Duke Bluebeard's Castle takes over, picking up from where A Florentine Tragedy left off. That sentence on its own is meaningless of course as the two works have little in common and were never meant to work side-by side together. What has been established in this production however is the idea of the psychological drama - or psychodrama in today's parlance - complete with psychiatrist in A Florentine Tradegy; and Duke Bluebeard's Castle is nothing if not a psychological drama. As has often been noted before, the opening of the seven doors of Bluebeard's castle can be seen to clearly represent a horrific delve into the deepest darkest and most unpleasant recesses of the human mind.

Accordingly, having (presumably) play-acted the murder of 'Guido' at the end of A Florentine Tragedy - as the spoken introduction to this opera notes - "The story is old, but did it happen or did it not?" - Judith now picks up the notebook and glasses and starts the therapy session with "Ah, I see seven great shut doorways, Seven doors all barred and bolted". It's time to get into the mind of a serial killer or at least someone who harbours a serious potential for dark violence. Here however there is a difference or ambiguity implied in perception and role as the story takes a Lynchian turn down a Lost Highway of overlapping dreams and reality. And in doing so it causes a need for a reflection on what took place back in A Florentine Tragedy.

The production set design remains the same then, but it needs a little more than that: it needs a touch of gothic horror quality and those do indeed bleed (an apt choice of words) into the luxury apartment-showroom-lounge-psychiatrist's office. With a suitable use of lighting and projections, the production design transforms the set into something much darker, finding interesting parallels and correspondences between the treasures and horrors of Duke Bluebeard's rooms and the workings of a tortured mind with a dark past.

And in doing so, it transforms the nature of the woman, Judith. This is no incautious naive young woman seeking to understand the mysteries of her new husband's shocking and colourful past. As an amateur psychologist, this Judith is prepared to fight to get to the truth - or get him to confront the truth - believing that it is all better out in the open and that healing can come from it. Indeed in a surprising twist, it's not Bluebeard's barred doors of the mind that she seeks to break down as much as her own. He is rather is protective of Judith here, unwilling to send her down a path that it is suggested perhaps once resulted in a nervous breakdown; an event that seems to have led to the breakdown of the marriage. This Bluebeard is someone who tries to keep her from the truth that they have both tried to bury.


Perhaps even more so than more traditional versions - as if there are ever any of those - there is a real sense of trepidation at what Judith is going to discover behind the seventh door, but also a feeling that it delves into the subject far more profoundly and meaningfully. It's clever, but it is also illuminating and truthful of the dark places that the mind can go to, as torturous as any medieval torture room and its victims in a gothic castle. It leads to an unexpectedly touching conclusion, with Alain Altinoglu drawing all the power and dramatic sweep out of the musical arrangements and terrific singing from the three principals, Asmik Grigorian in particular often reduced to wearing underwear, physically, metaphorically and psychologically stripped down.


External links: Wiener Staatsoper, Wiener Stastsoper Live