Just because a guy loves opera doesn't mean he loves every note of it he hears, and "Lulu," with its heavy, rhythm-free, messy, and nerve- piercing music, courtesy of Wagner, Bartok, and Schoenberg, contains many notes that keep it well outside my cluster of favorite works. Still, I gotta tell ya, its opening performance on Thursday night of last week was killer, and not only because, as the story goes, Lulu has a bloody bullet of one proverbial kind or another for every lover she's ever had. Cast: Marlis Petersen, Marlis Petersen, Marlis Petersen, MARLIS PETERSEN! Then there were the rest, including conductor Lothar Koenigs, who were pretty close to superb, themselves.
All-Adult Opera
There are quite a few opus numbers attached to PG-13 or R-rated material nowadays, and "Lulu," written four years before the beginning of World War II, is no exception. At the beginning of the Twentieth Century, artists of all kinds started searching for ways to, as it's said, "get the truth out," which meant tossing the dressed- up style of the Romantic Era into the mud and building from the known, though long denied, human condition. Prostitutes, murderously bored housewives, serial killers, and other down-and-outs were elements added to the core of music, visual art, and literature. "Lulu's" truth- telling involves a woman of many identities, shapes, and men who has a strong sense of the desires of others, but no sense of direction. Her life is a downward spiral a la Mildred Rogers, making for an Expressionist composer's perfect theme. Koenigs led the orchestra on Thursday with momentum that could have put a cluster of violin- sized holes in the wall behind the stage, perfectly illustrating with sound colors the cacophony between Lulu's conscience and her lust for, in the beginning, acceptance; in the end, escape. I'll admit that what I, personally, noted as highlights of the evening were the death scenes dropped at the end of the Acts. In those moments, Koenigs held an atmosphere of such electricity and darkness that I couldn't help feeling swallowed by the horror which Berg has desperately tried to convey with his score. I have to admit it was pretty cool.
Big Men, Little Men, all for One
The male cast kept everything that wasn't directly embodied by Lulu captivating and characterful. One of them successfully transitioned from one character to another entirely. Johan Reuter put himself through such metamorphosis as rendered him, in my ears, practically cloned, the copy much gloomier and more direct as the malicious Jack, the Ripper than the original was as Dr. Schon, whose obsession with and jealousy over Lulu, according to both story and score, is colorful and complex. Tenor Daniel Brenna's somewhat earthy voice was a delight and the perfect tail to the shimmering Paul Groves's head on the coin, a coin created for the characters the two represented, one (the painter, Walter Schwarz) a hopeless romantic with all the inclinations of Goethe's Werther who meets his end by his own volition, and the other (Alwa, the son of Dr. Schon) a battery that lasts until the end, Lulu's end, when his high notes start to run dry. On Thursday night, the many victims, direct and indirect, of the wild Lulu became almost as big of stars as she usually is, but not quite.
Be What They See
Those are the words Lulu lives by, and she's one of those characters that exists to prove that giving for gain of any kind can get you killed. Berg decided when he started composing her part that her ups and downs would be best illustrated by coloratura, coloratura with a hunchback. There's very little that is necessarily graceful or gentle about Lulu's music, but, then, neither is there anything like that about Lulu. Rather, her sounds are meant to make scars, and Marlis Petersen (MARLIS PETERSEN!!!) definitely marked up my memory as the constantly loose lass, marrying genuine vocal acting talents with an ability to make some of the most impossible-sounding musical stunts seem like the smooth steps of a stroll through the park. Thursday marked my first encounter with this pro screamer's stunning art, and I have to say that there is nothing she sings or will sing that I won't give a listen to at least once. The frightening cries, the profound expression, and the dynamite vocal acrobatics of which she is capable are just... just... I've run out of words! I have to say that the last number of the opera, which includes the explosive finale where Lulu has her first and final run-in with an agent of Death, wound up being the single most superb thing I heard all night. Most unfortunately for many of her fans, Petersen plans to remove this role from her regular repertory at the end of this season's run of "Lulu" performances at the Met. Hopefully, she'll find a music even more fascinating to put her astounding artistic energy into.
My thanks to the Met for making an opera that would usually be nothing less than intolerable for me an experience that I can say is truly worth every word on this page. I can't wait for next week's performance of "Rigoletto!" Thanks for reading, my friends, and, until next time, happy opera loving!
All-Adult Opera
There are quite a few opus numbers attached to PG-13 or R-rated material nowadays, and "Lulu," written four years before the beginning of World War II, is no exception. At the beginning of the Twentieth Century, artists of all kinds started searching for ways to, as it's said, "get the truth out," which meant tossing the dressed- up style of the Romantic Era into the mud and building from the known, though long denied, human condition. Prostitutes, murderously bored housewives, serial killers, and other down-and-outs were elements added to the core of music, visual art, and literature. "Lulu's" truth- telling involves a woman of many identities, shapes, and men who has a strong sense of the desires of others, but no sense of direction. Her life is a downward spiral a la Mildred Rogers, making for an Expressionist composer's perfect theme. Koenigs led the orchestra on Thursday with momentum that could have put a cluster of violin- sized holes in the wall behind the stage, perfectly illustrating with sound colors the cacophony between Lulu's conscience and her lust for, in the beginning, acceptance; in the end, escape. I'll admit that what I, personally, noted as highlights of the evening were the death scenes dropped at the end of the Acts. In those moments, Koenigs held an atmosphere of such electricity and darkness that I couldn't help feeling swallowed by the horror which Berg has desperately tried to convey with his score. I have to admit it was pretty cool.
Big Men, Little Men, all for One
The male cast kept everything that wasn't directly embodied by Lulu captivating and characterful. One of them successfully transitioned from one character to another entirely. Johan Reuter put himself through such metamorphosis as rendered him, in my ears, practically cloned, the copy much gloomier and more direct as the malicious Jack, the Ripper than the original was as Dr. Schon, whose obsession with and jealousy over Lulu, according to both story and score, is colorful and complex. Tenor Daniel Brenna's somewhat earthy voice was a delight and the perfect tail to the shimmering Paul Groves's head on the coin, a coin created for the characters the two represented, one (the painter, Walter Schwarz) a hopeless romantic with all the inclinations of Goethe's Werther who meets his end by his own volition, and the other (Alwa, the son of Dr. Schon) a battery that lasts until the end, Lulu's end, when his high notes start to run dry. On Thursday night, the many victims, direct and indirect, of the wild Lulu became almost as big of stars as she usually is, but not quite.
Be What They See
Those are the words Lulu lives by, and she's one of those characters that exists to prove that giving for gain of any kind can get you killed. Berg decided when he started composing her part that her ups and downs would be best illustrated by coloratura, coloratura with a hunchback. There's very little that is necessarily graceful or gentle about Lulu's music, but, then, neither is there anything like that about Lulu. Rather, her sounds are meant to make scars, and Marlis Petersen (MARLIS PETERSEN!!!) definitely marked up my memory as the constantly loose lass, marrying genuine vocal acting talents with an ability to make some of the most impossible-sounding musical stunts seem like the smooth steps of a stroll through the park. Thursday marked my first encounter with this pro screamer's stunning art, and I have to say that there is nothing she sings or will sing that I won't give a listen to at least once. The frightening cries, the profound expression, and the dynamite vocal acrobatics of which she is capable are just... just... I've run out of words! I have to say that the last number of the opera, which includes the explosive finale where Lulu has her first and final run-in with an agent of Death, wound up being the single most superb thing I heard all night. Most unfortunately for many of her fans, Petersen plans to remove this role from her regular repertory at the end of this season's run of "Lulu" performances at the Met. Hopefully, she'll find a music even more fascinating to put her astounding artistic energy into.
My thanks to the Met for making an opera that would usually be nothing less than intolerable for me an experience that I can say is truly worth every word on this page. I can't wait for next week's performance of "Rigoletto!" Thanks for reading, my friends, and, until next time, happy opera loving!
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