After the international
success of their first operatic venture,
The Handmaid’s Tale in 2000,
it was only a matter of time before
Poul Ruders and his British librettist
Paul Bentley collaborated again. For
their second venture, they have chosen
Kafka, an author both men feel deeply
about. The resulting piece was chosen
as part of the opening season of the
newly-built Copenhagen Opera, which
at least ensured a sell-out. It has
its moments but some may feel that Bentley’s
struggle create a feasible dramatic
framework and coherent libretto are,
at best, a mixed success.
As in the previous
work, the concept of a dual reality
is at the core. Bentley weaves a series
of scenes from Kafka’s unfinished novel
The Trial with episodes from
the author’s own life, told largely
through the many letters that chronicle
his difficult relationship with two
women, the cool Felice Bauer and the
rather promiscuous Greta Bloch. Thus
we have two parallel triangles presented
on stage, Kafka and his two lovers and
Josef K. with Fräulein Bürstner
and Fräulein Montag. If it sounds
complicated, it’s obviously meant to
be, with the added dramatic irony of
the same three singers taking all six
parts, though it’s fair to say that
there may have been more clarity in
the opera house than this purely aural
experience.
The 27 minute prelude
that opens the opera bustles with nervous
energy as the letters fly back and forth
over a number of years. Ruders’ musical
language is as eclectic as ever, with
Ligeti-like clusters and dissonant brass
outbursts rubbing shoulders with smoochy
Hollywood strings and café dance
tunes. The whole thing moves at a real
lick and rhythmic undercurrents are
strong – one can at times see why he
has been called Europe’s answer to John
Adams. He slips between these styles
with effortless ease and I would say
that the musical side of things leaves
the strongest impression with this opera,
especially given the superbly committed
playing and singing.
The difficult central
role of Kafka/Josef K. is ably taken
by Johnny van Hal, a regular at the
Danish Opera. He has a tremendously
difficult task here, both technically
and interpretatively and it’s to his
credit that he invests real life into
these tricky theatrical creations. Vocally
he only shows strain towards the end,
quite understandably given the huge
size of the part, which must have been
tour-de-force to learn, but he
shows great flair in the moments of
pure slapstick that Bentley and Ruders
occasionally conjure up. Again, it would
be nice to see the performance in these
more manic episodes. The two principal
women are outstanding, particularly
Marianne Rørholm, a Ruders favourite
and the creator of the central character
of Offred in The Handmaid’s Tale. All
other parts are excellently done but
the real praise must be reserved for
Sondergaard and his orchestra. Ruders’
demanding score is brilliantly realized,
its considerable stylistic challenges
met head-on in playing of richness and
fluent virtuosity.
Praise must also be
given to Da Capo’s presentation, a model
of its kind. There’s a handsome 273-page
booklet, complete with full text and
translation (utterly essential here)
as well as decent background notes and
interviews with composer and librettist.
Sound quality is also first-rate, with
what sounds like an enviable acoustic
very well caught. Those keen on Ruders
need not hesitate, but overall I’m left
with the nagging feeling that this production
would be best served on DVD, where the
plot complexities and many character
doublings would possibly be easier to
unravel, to say nothing of the whole
thing fitting easily on one disc. It
wouldn’t surprise me if it happens eventually,
but those who can’t wait will be pretty
well pleased with this set.
Tony Haywood
Chorus and Orchestra of the Royal Danish Opera/Thomas
Søndergård 
