The magic flute without folk philosophizing turned into a cheerful fairy tale for young children, but even adults are by no means bored. This is what a performance should look like that arouses interest in opera without violent lectures and stupid, superficial updates. Tamino, Pamina, photo by Jana Hallová Tamino, Pamina, photo by Jana Hallová From the original, almost three-hour work, the story remains for less than an hour, the main hero of which is the birder Papageno. He accompanies us through the whole story, introduces us to other characters, also accompanies Tamin on the way to Pamina, and by the way he finds his Papagena himself. The noble symbols of good and evil, i.e. the high priest Sarastro and the Queen of the Night, disappeared, replaced by the more popular First Lady and Monostatos. Papageno, Pamina, photo jana Hallová Papageno, Pamina, photo jana Hallová A simple scene made of dry branches created the believable illusion of a forest, Papageno's home. Papageno stylized into a vagabond with an empty nest on a cap was not the only subtle parallel with the 2003 production of The Magic Flute at Covent Garden (directed by David McVicar). She was also reminded of his final duet with Papagena – in the nest instead of in bed, but there was also a pillow wound – or Monostat's reaction to the sound of the chime. The costumes in bright colors and distinctive stylizations (Pamina like wild strawberry) are child-friendly, but do not slip into kitsch. Lucie Halgašová has created a solid basis for immediately cheerful directing, perhaps only Ondrej Olos at the piano would be worth dressing better when he is also on the stage and cannot do it himself. Monostatos, photo by Jana Hallová Monostatos, photo by Jana Hallová Tomáš Pilař staged a fairy-tale story with ease corresponding to the music used. The performance talked to the children – figuratively constantly and sometimes literally. An immature audience is counted on here as an element that needs to be involved in the game and not just let it stand by patiently. I have to say that I am really glad that Tomáš Pilař has finally caught on with me with this direction, and I am convinced that he should take some of its directness, clever uncomplicatedness and willingness to go directly to the heart of the matter into his work for adults. He is also, together with Patricia Částková, the author of the translation and dramaturgical adaptation (here the question arises as to why it was based on Eberhard Streul's compilation at all and not on The Magic Flute itself). The jokes were mostly hilarious, and if not downright hilarious, at least they did not offend good taste, the few prosodic hiccups were to a completely forgivable extent – both authors did an excellent job. Pamina, Papageno, photo by Jana Hallová Pamina, Papageno, photo by Jana Hallová The musical accompaniment was provided by the reliable Ondrej Olos at the piano, complemented only by the celesta and, of course, the flute. The children's version was not hurt by the absence of the orchestra and it was also possible to stretch the stage towards the audience. This increased not only the space for the acting event, but also for communication with the audience. It was verified during the exams and the children responded very helpfully and lively. The singers visibly enjoyed their roles, they didn't have to work hard over the piano, they played excellently and seemed to have as much fun as the audience, without forgetting what to do. Papageno plays the magic flute, i.e. The Magic Flute in the children's arrangement by Eberhard Streul, Tomáš Pilař and Patricia Částková was really successful. Whether or not you want to teach your children to go to the opera, go out with them for a hilarious experience. It's hard to see something like that on TV.
První živou premiérou po dlouhém lockdownu byla Bohéma Giacoma Pucciniho. Dlouho očekávaná událost se stala v pátek 11. června 2021 a Janáčkovo divadlo opět vítalo živé návštěvníky. Poloprázdné hlediště a vyžadované doklady spolu s rouškami stále ještě připomínaly nepříjemnou dobu epidemie, ale víra, že se konečně život vrací do běžného režimu, byla silnější a pomáhala navodit slavnostní očekávání. Novou inscenaci připravili umělci, kteří již odhodili pel mládí a nahradili ho invencí a imaginací. A tedy nepotřebovali použít berličku modernizování opery za každou cenu, naopak dokázali příběh z 19. století podat svěže, mladistvě a pravdivě, jak velí verismus. Příběh, který zpracoval skladatel Giacomo Puccini na motivy knížky pařížského spisovatele Henriho Murgera, se odehrává v Latinské čtvrti Paříže 19. století. Libreto zpracovali Luigi Illica a Giuseppe Giacosa. Mladí bohémové, žijící mezi chudobou a touhou po kráse a uznání, se potkají s mladými krásnými dívkami, které se snaží uživit, jak se dá, nejlépe s bohatými milenci. Pohled režisérky na operu je realistický a praktický, spojuje nenásilně jevištní akce s potřebou pěvce se plně do hlasu opřít a prosadit se oproti orchestru a poté se zapojit zpět do dění, to vše zcela nenásilně. Při zachování poetiky a charakteru života v 19. století, dokáže scénu rozehrát v ansámblových scénách i ve scénách se sborem a zachovává přitom malebnost a přirozenost. Na scéně Davida Janoška, která je půvabná a impresionistická, v náznacích a úsporných detailech navozuje charakter prostředí, které dokáže rychle a chytře proměňovat. Mansarda v prvním obraze je téměř realistická a přenáší diváka do příběhu, druhý obraz je dokonale iluzivní při představování ulice. Obraz zimní ulice ve druhém jednání je načrtnut impresionisticky a rychlá přestavba do původní mansardy je možná díky bílým přehozům na nábytku, která iluzi vůbec neruší. Naopak ji citlivě a přitom důrazně dokresluje postava Smrti, dámy v klobouku, která v mlze postává na ulici a čeká. Kostýmy Zuzany Přidalové jsou historizující a slušivé, vévodí róby Musetty, ostatní kostýmy jsou úsporné a historicky odpovídající. Výtvarně byl obraz ulice se sborem a dětmi velmi povedený – živý, přehledný a při tom i zábavný. Příběh čtyř mladíků, kteří žijí v podkrovní mansardě starého domu v zimě a bez peněz, je příběhem lásky i zmaru. Role Rudolfa – básníka, je napsána pro tenoristu a zpíval ho Richard Samek. Jeho výrazný tenor je v barvě a v posazení přirozený a nese se dobře prostorem. Malíře Marcella představoval barytonista Roman Hoza, jehož baryton má příjemnou barvu a herecky je tvárný a přirozený. Schaunard je hudebník a skladatel, zpíval ho barytonista Lukáš Bařák, mladý pěvec, jehož hlas má říz, nosnost a roli si zjevně užíval. Filosofa Collina ztvárnil basista Jan Šťáva, který má sice menší úlohu, ale dokázal z ní vytěžit maximum. Árii o plášti, kterou zpívá ke konci inscenace, a která většinou již zaniká, podal s takovou procítěností a nosností, že publikum dojal. Toto mladistvé kvarteto vynikalo vyrovnaností jak hlasovou, tak i především schopností naladit se na stejnou emoční hladinu a vytvořit na jevišti hravou a bezprostřední náladu. Chlapecké kvarteto doplňují dvě dívky. Mimi – švadlenka, bydlící ve stejném domě, která si přijde zapálit svíčku, půvabná a nesmělá, trpí tuberkulózou. Setká se s Rudolfem a je z toho láska na první pohled a Mimi zapadá do party čtyř přátel. Zpívala ji Jana Šrejma Kačírková – sopranistka, která má za sebou náročné inscenace jak v divadle Moravskoslezském, tak i v Janáčkově opeře. Její hlas je průrazný a čistý, plný emocí a lesku. Své Mimi dokázala dát něhu a sladkost a díky svému exteriéru i dívčí půvab. Druhou dívkou je Musetta, opak Mimi, temperamentní dračice, která sice miluje Marcella, který na ni zoufale žárlí, ale víc miluje sladkost života, kterou jí dávají bohatí milenci. Byla jí Doubravka Součková, mladá sopranistka, nedávná absolventka JAMU, pro kterou byla tato role debutem na scéně Janáčkovy opery. A příležitosti využila dokonale. Nastoupila pronikavým sopránem, kterým převálcovala veškerý shon na scéně a její árie byla plná smyslnosti a vyzývavosti. V posledním obraze přinesla ale zcela jinou polohu a tady již hlas změkčila a prokázala, že je schopna i procítěného výrazu. Další role, které se v opeře objevují, jsou již ilustrativní figury, které dokreslují její charakter. Výraznější je zde postava Benoita – domácího, který přijde vymáhat činži a kvarteto „dobráků“ si z něj vystřelí a vyhodí ho z bytu. Jiří Sulženko zde přišel k roli, která ho ukázala v novém světle jako schopného herce, který dokáže přinést na jeviště charakterní postavu a přirozený pěvecký výkon. Alcindoro, bohatý milenec Musetty, je podobnou figurou, náfuka, ze kterého si Musetta vystřelí a nechá ho zaplatit i za mladíky. Jeho představitelem byl Martin Matoušek, který se role zhostil mile a s noblesou. Role Palpignola je vděčnou figurou kramáře a komedianta, kterému nahrávají děti. Pavla Valentu spolupráce s dětmi velmi těšila, stejně jako jeho role. Seržanta ztvárnil Kornél Mikecz a celníka Petr Karas. Sbor Janáčkovy opery připravila Klára Složilová Roztočilová, Dětský sbor Brno byl připraven sbormistrovou Valerií Maťašovou. Oba sbory byly skvěle sezpívány a zněly dobře jak na jevišti, tak i za scénou. Hudebně operu připravil a dirigoval Jakub Klecker. Partitura Giacoma Pucciniho je velmi barevně instrumentovaná, což dirigentovi umožnilo vytvořit hutný, barevný hudební celek. Orchestr zněl velmi kompaktně a plně a podával skvělé výkony, aniž by překrýval zpěváky. V Janáčkově opeře vznikla nová inscenace, která jistě přiláká publikum, nezklame vyznavače klasického provedení, ale ani posluchače, kteří by si přáli, aby opera byla pro obecenstvo přitažlivější a více konvenovala k současnosti. Tato inscenace potěší a bude vyhovovovat širokému spektru diváků. Opera byla rovněž snímána kamerami – podle slov ředitele Martina Glasera: „Pro všechny případy, kdyby…“. Je to jistě velmi záslužné, ale určitě si všichni přejeme, aby to bylo jen pro případy dokumentární, nikoli jako náhrada za živé představení.
Herman Melville, E.M. Forster, Eric Crozier and Benjamin Britten all believed that “Billy Budd” was set at sea. Czech theatre director Daniel Špinar thinks otherwise. His new four-act production of Britten’s psychologically fascinating, demonstrably homoerotic and deeply disturbing drama for the National Theatre in Prague had as much to do with HMS Indomitable as “Madama Butterfly” moved to Mozambique.In the Prologue, Vere sings “Confusion, so much is confusion!” which is a fitting epithet for Špinar’s fundamentally flawed directional concepts. Following similarly spurious interpretations such as Richard Jones’ British boarding school setting in Göteberg, Špinar had no hesitation in manipulating the carefully constructed text to his own gay-fixated and textually inconsistent preconceptions. Nothing to Do With the Text The single set by Lucia Škandiková was a hospital bed in the center of a bare blue-green stage which looked like a cross between a gigantic Tiffany & Co. shoebox and a pastel urinal. Whilst the hospice setting was all very well for Captain Vere’s poignant soliloquies in the Prologue and Epilogue, it made no sense in the central ship-board scenes, which are intended to recreate the squalid and claustrophobic conditions of a British Man o’war in 1797. The sole nautical reference was three model sailing ships carried into Captain Vere’s cabin (which was anything but “narrow”) at the opening of Act two, but these were actually of models of the Thermopylae which was launched more than 70 years after the drama takes place. There was a further small toy yacht carried by six mini-Mozart looking waifs (presumably the powder-monkeys) but this was a Dragon-class sloop first seen in 1929. Specifics in the text were blithely ignored – there were no ropes to haul, no glasses for Vere, Redburn and Flint to toast the King and Dansker doesn’t give Billy anything to eat or drink, making “baby’s” gratitude for unexpected nourishment meaningless. The only additions to the bleak pastel desert were some broken coffins in the second scene of Act two and the sudden appearance of multiple proto-phallic cannons when Billy is interrogated by Vere. Contrary to normal Man o’war ordinance, these armaments are actually pointing inwards towards the protagonists. Not so helpful for firing at the enemy. The most disturbing directional deviation however came in Act four when Billy strips naked and pops into Vere’s bed, creating the titillating expectation of homosexual congress between the handsome young sailor and the philhellene naval captain. Instead, in Jesus-like manner, Vere solemnly washes Billy’s feet, then after the Articles of War are read (which specifically state that Billy is to be “hung from the yardarm”), Vere impales the supine seaman with his ceremonial sword. Possibly Špinar saw this as some kind of symbolic ultimate penetration, but it had nothing to do with the text or 18th century British naval regulations. Costume designer Marek Cpin was no better. The sailors were closer to WW1 Kriegsmarine cadets, Billy looked like a cross between Popeye and Querelle styled by Nautica, Squeak could have doubled for the Artful Dodger and Claggart was a Goth grasshopper sporting an over-sized stylized Order of the Garter star – an unlikely honour for a mere Master-at-Arms. The ultimate absurdity was a powder-wigged Captain Vere dressed in a long-trained powder-blue ensemble bedecked with diamond brooches. His appearance at Captain’s muster could have been Liberace sashaying onto the poop of HMS Pinafore. There is unquestionably a major homosexual theme to this opera, which given the proclivities of the novelist, librettists and composer, should come as no surprise. However, 1951 was hardly a time to caterwaul “I am what I am” and the Sapphic subtext should be as subtle as the behavior of the protagonists is repressed. Špinar has Claggart followed by five handsome body-stockinged dancer/athletes who grope, writhe, roll and climb over each other, and the Master-at-Arms, at every opportunity. It is about as discreet as a drag-show by Divine. During the lengthy “This is our moment” chorus when engagement with the French seems imminent, the dancers put on a Cirque de Soleil show of slow motion pugilism which totally ignores the bustling on-deck directions in the libretto. There was certainly a lot of pectoral pulchritude displayed by the prepossessing Prague lads, but much of Radim Vizváry’s choreography was an unsubtle cribbing of Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui’s human Tarnhelm concept for Guy Cassiers’ “Ring” at La Scala in 2010. But the Music… Fortunately the musical component of the evening was much more satisfactory. The chorus of the Czech National Theater Prague was really outstanding and the tricky cross-rhythm ensemble passages such as “This is our moment” were impressively sung. The multitude of small roles were not especially memorable except for a resonant Redburn by Jiří Brückler and a dulcet-toned Friend by Luboš Skala. The only serious negative was that overall English diction was consistently imprecise. This was particularly noticeable in the rollicking “We’re off to Samoa” couplets. The roles of cabin boy, novice and tenor solo were impressively sung by Jan Petryka who has a real tenore di grazia timbre and technique. “Over the water, over the ocean” was wistfully lyrical. For some inexplicable reason, Špinar had the novice sing Vere’s “Scylla and Charybdis” passage after Claggart’s murder, ending with “it is I whom the devil awaits.” Although emotionally powerful and vocally well sung by Petryka, this makes no dramaturgical sense whatsoever. Admittedly the novice is weak and cowardly but these failings have been skillfully manipulated by Claggart. It is Vere who is wracked with angst and self-loathing for failing to save Billy and until the guileless youth blesses and absolves him, logically believes he will be damned for his pusillanimity. It is also doubtful that an uneducated young novice would be familiar with Greek mythology. Gidon Sak is no stranger to the role of the contemptible Claggart, having enjoyed recent success in the part with Donald Runnicles in Berlin. With a palpable Iago-ish malevolence, Sak’s characerization is a seething mono-dimensional study of evil with an S&M kink. There is no attempt at subservient hypocrisy or ignominious dissimulation. The voice is stronger in the upper register but the deeper tessitura such as the low G natural on “I will destroy you” and the low F-sharp on “Your honour” lacked resonance and projection. American baritone Christopher Bolduc was an agreeable Billy with perhaps a better knowledge of what was going on in Claggart and Vere’s mind than more ingénue interpretations. The voice is not especially large and tended to be slightly overwhelmed in the ensemble sections. “Billy Budd, King of the birds” was far from stentorian, but the closing “Through the port comes the moon-shine astray” scena was beautifully phrased in an intimate lieder-style manner. Despite the louche Liberace look, Slovak tenor Štefan Margita was vocally convincing as Vere. Margita was able to convey the character’s preoccupation with good and evil, rigid regulations and philosophic humanism with understated eloquence. Whilst his English was often quirky with the occasional rolled “r’s” and extended “e’s”, the voice projected well over the large orchestra and there was some refulgent singing in the upper register exemplified by a clarion top B-natural on “leave me.” The Real Captain of the Ship Laurels of the evening however went to young British conductor Christopher Ward and the National Theatre orchestra. This is a maestro who knows how to breathe with the singers and his conducting of Britten’s immensely difficult, kaleidoscopic, sea-sonorous score was translucent and trenchant. There was ebullience, poetry and rhythmic insistency in Ward’s inspired reading and while there may not have been a whiff of salt air on the stage, the orchestra could have come straight from shores of Suffolk. The graduations between atmospheric pianissimi and hefty fortissimi (especially evident in the major/minor triad shifts in the “interrogation scene”) revealed no small degree of virtuosity by the Czech musicians. Strings were seductive and woodwinds chirpy with the first flute being particularly impressive in the obbligato passages during Billy’s final scena. Brass were raw and raspy and the Grand Inquisitor-ish instrumentation of tuba, low strings and contrabassoon before Claggart makes his bogus denunciation of Billy was truly ominous. Neither Melville, Forster or Crozier were well-served by this vexatious and inappropos production, however Britten was in excellent hands on the podium. Ward is a conductor to watch.