Is the man dead or just missing? The quartet of the bereaved with (from left) Wiebke Mollenhauer, Damian Rebgetz, Sibylle Canonica and Kristina Hammarström are waiting for certainty. © Wilfried hösl
Claudio Monteverdi's "Ulisse" and Joan Didion's "The Year of Magical Thinking" have a lot to do with each other, as the "Yes, May" festival shows. Even if both works do not quite penetrate each other in Christopher Rüping's direction.
Ten years, this period is provided for by our law. After that, the missing person can be declared dead. According to the rules with the real German name "Verschollenheitsgesetz", six months are enough for ship voyages – that would probably apply to Ulisse. But we don't know what was true in ancient Greece. The fact is: Penelope has been hoping to return home for two decades. Misunderstood by an environment that believes the spouse warrior already in Hades. But she does not allow herself to conclude with the former commonality, which the whole world, including lustful suitors, is pushing for. And here is a sister 3000 years younger in spirit, Joan, who, however, has certainty: Husband John died of a heart attack at dinner. Which is an objective fact, but Joan doesn't quite admit to herself in twelve grueling months.
This state of in-betweenness, emptiness, uncoping, waiting for (inner) certainty unites both works, Monteverdi's "Il ritorno d'Ulisse in patria" and "The Year of Magical Thinking", autobiographical essay and literary reflection on the soul by US author Joan Didion (1934-2021). Grief, coping work, as her book shows, can also be self-deception. So bringing both works together for a premiere as part of the "Ja, Mai" festival is as clever as it is striking.
Director Christopher Rüping makes his operatic debut
Director Christopher Rüping, celebrated at the Münchner Kammerspiele for "Drums in the Night" or the ten-hour "Dionysos Stadt", is risking his first, highly respectable step towards opera – in cooperation with the Bavarian State Opera and the Residenztheater. Monteverdi is boiled down to the best-of, the essay is split into a multi-monologue: the widow's role is shared by Sibylle Canonica, Wiebke Mollenhauer and Damian Rebgetz. Opera and drama are aesthetically separated. For Monteverdi, Jonathan Mertz provides two-dimensional, mobile baroque backdrops, while for Didion, the stage of the Cuvilliés Theatre is cleared except for the well-known radiators in the background.
The conversion is program and problem. The fact that John, who has collapsed and mourned at the table, turns out to be a returning Ulisse is a parenthesis that only brings the evening forward to a limited extent. Opera and essay dock together again and again, touching each other. But Rüping seldom succeeds in a real interlocking, an intertwining. What one pursues is a scenically reduced succession and juxtaposition. This certainly invites reflection, perhaps also because almost everyone has had to experience something similar – or at least has observed it.
What Rüping succeeds in doing: The two-hour, non-stop evening is spread between tragedy and ironic sprinkles. The terrific Kristina Hammarström is responsible for the former. A Penelope of archaic impassivity, who dresses her singing in velvety mezzo colors. A few times her face is shown gigantically on the live videos of Susanne Steinmassl, one almost shrinks away from the expression.
1A cast of the Bayerische Staatsoper
On the acting side, only Sibylle Canonica answers this. A pinched, haggard look says more than every word, every sound. Wiebke Mollenhauer, on the other hand, falls off, the Australian Damian Rebgetz delivers the refraction of the tragedy with a distinctive accent, agile presence and as a man with a widow's veil. In the end, the three watch the duet wet with tears when Ulisse and Penelope are finally in each other's arms. What used to be quiet pathos and level-headed directorial aesthetics is drifting into kitsch. Rüping adds a superficial emotionality that Joan Didion's mourning essay does not radiate.
In addition to Kristina Hammarström, the Staatsoper contributes a 1A cast. Charles Daniels is a mature, soft-toned Ulisse, more of a tragic farce in terms of acting and character: To camouflage himself, glasses with an artificial nose and moustache are suitable. Granit Musliu is not only physically outstanding as Telemaco – it is very understandable that he has just been promoted from the opera studio to the ensemble. Liam Bonthrone (Eurimaco/Pisandro) brings buffo qualities to the performance, Xenia Puskarz Thomas is a mercurial, vocally mature Melanto/Minerva.
Despite the mini-cast in the pit with the Monteverdi Continuo Ensemble and members of the Bavarian State Orchestra, the Cuvilliéstheater is flooded with sound: the "Ulisse" fits perfectly into the house. Conductor Chistopher Moulds shows how many colors and what rich agogics are possible even with this small troupe, a mini-hardware with maximum effect. The fact that everything doesn't end with the love duet from "Ulissse", which can hardly be increased, but folds up in a chatty way, is a flaw. As intense and rewarding as the combination of both works is, it becomes clear that the concept is stronger than the scenic redemption.
