Nuit des Hommes
is Nørgård’s fifth opera;
and it is a quite different piece of
music when compared to its predecessors.
To be quite frank, I only know one of
them (Gilgamesh [1972]
available on Da Capo DCCD 9001), although
another one Siddharta
(1979/83) has also been recorded since
(Da Capo 8.224031-32); but I have not
heard it so far. It is probably his
most compressed essay in the genre.
It plays for a little over one hour,
and is comparatively modestly scored
(two singers, string quartet, percussion
and live electronics), but also calls
for some video interpolations when staged.
Its subject is war, and the impact of
war on individuals brutally thrown into
it. There are two characters endorsing
a dual role, i.e. before and
after; but – importantly, I think
– they never really interact, in whatever
guise. They rather stand side by side,
and later oppose each other. "... a
couple, and the drama is their shared
and individual inner journey through
the phases of war... The opera portrays
their interaction as a kind of intensity
shared in their common search for the
limits of their experience. The intensity
first allows them to walk together on
the dangerous paths where their enthusiasm
has led them. Later, it separates them
into two radically transformed figures..."
(Sorry for such a long quote from the
excellent insert notes; but these words
sum-up the whole piece fairly clearly.)
In fact, the woman becomes a war correspondent,
of a rather bellicose sort, whereas
the "ordinary" man becomes a soldier
trapped into the trenches and witnessing
the inhumanity of war. "They both plummet
into the Underworld with no return ticket."
The subject is thus war, as reflected
through various texts by Guillaume Apollinaire
who was severely wounded during World
War I, and who died during a flu epidemic
in 1918.
The global structure
of the opera is simple: two acts of
fairly equal length, preceded by a preamble
and a prologue, separated by an entr’acte
and capped by an epilogue. The opera
thus opens with a preamble made of electronic
or electronically processed menacing
sounds, such as wailing sirens, and
a prologue subtitled L’Aurore enchantée
(Enchanted Dawn) in which both singers
appear as some sort of ancient Chorus,
outside the action and commenting upon
it. During the first scenes of Act 1,
Alice and Wilhelm share a meal and enjoy
good wine, which leads them to believe
that they have been created as images
of God and that they may thus live in
utter arrogance. Things, however, progressively
change as war is felt getting nearer.
This happens in Act 1 Scene 6 Military
music. With this, some intimations
of horrors to come creep in. "If I could,
I would have quickly changed/The hearts
of men and everywhere there would be/Left
only beautiful things." In Act 1 Scene
8 (O gates of your body), Wilhelm
remembers the body of her beloved, with
the feeling that it is now closed to
him. The following scenes (Departure
and Voyage) relentlessly lead
into the opera’s turning point (Act
1 Scene 11 Mutation) in which
both man and woman realise that everything
has now changed "except my love". But
too late, though, for the woman’s transformation
is already nearly completed. Act 1 ends
with the soldier’s nocturnal aria. "Night
falls like smoke blown down/I am sad
tonight."
The ominous, menacing
electronic sounds of the entr’acte lead
into the second act. Now, both characters
have endorsed their new guise. Alice
has become kAli (spelled as such, but
the allusion is clear enough), a brutal,
blood-thirsty war correspondent, whereas
Wilhelm is now a soldier lost in the
midst of war’s massacres. War’s all-destroying
violence is clearly heard in Act 2 Scenes
1 and 3, whereas in Act 2 Scene 2 kAli
sings a savage, violent, erotically
charged Eloge de la guerre (Praise
of War) in which she seduces soldiers
"to penetrate her sex" (i.e. the blood-filled
trenches). In this horrendous scene,
it seems that some sort of digital delay
is used to multiply kAli’s voice that
thus seems to echo itself. Act 2 Scene
4 is another short, bleak and doom-laden
Nocturne. Act 2 ends with a long desolate
scene, in which all that is left is
rain "under the liquid moon of Flanders
in agony". Both singers join again as
the Chorus in the Epilogue ("Enchanted
Dawn II") that rounds off the piece
in utter desolation. "All in tears/In
the astonished sky/Almost ashamed/ Of
being mother to a still-born sun."
This summary hardly
reflects all the emotional and technical
complexity of this gripping, utterly
disturbing work. The comparative economy
of means and the often direct delivery
of Apollinaire’s sometimes surreal words
surely enhance the violence and inhumanity
of man’s often uselessly brutal instincts
by making them almost banal. In many
ways, Nuit des Hommes
inhabits the same musical world as some
of Nørgård’s recent orchestral
works such as the powerfully impressive
Sixth Symphony At the End of the
Day (1998/9) and Terrains
Vagues (2000, revised 2001),
both available on Chandos CHAN 9904
that I reviewed
here some time ago.
All concerned sing
and play with irresistible conviction
- moreover, the French diction of both
singers is quite good - and I frankly
do not think that this performance of
one of Nørgård’s most thought-provoking
works could be bettered. This is, no
doubt, a major work; a tough nut to
crack, certainly, but well worth the
effort. In its own way, the work’s apparent
timelessness acquires a terrifying relevance
for our troubled times. It should not
be ignored.
Hubert Culot
see also review
of a
live performance
Helene Gjerris (mezzo-soprano); Helge Rønning
(tenor); Bodil Rørbech, Andreas Hagman
(violins); Markus Falkbring (viola); Fredrik Lindstrøm
(cello); Gert Sørensen (theremin, percussion,
keyboard); Kaare Hansen (conductor) 
