Marlies"Artbeat: Berg's Opera "Lulu" Back at the Met in HD

By Marlies Wolf

The fourth opera of the Live-at-the-Met-in-HD season, Alban Berg’s Lulu, came to us with almost the identical team that offered Schostakovich’s The Nose in 2010. The artist/director of his new production, the South African William Kentridge, is again backed by his co-director, Luc De Vit, costume designer Greta Goiris, and most importantly the projection designer, Catherine Meyburgh -- just to mention a few of his talented ensemble.

Lulu was originally scheduled to be conducted by one of its admirers, the much admired, James Levine. Medical problems seem to have prevented this, but luckily, the extremely experienced German conductor Lothar Koenigs was available to take his place.

The result was a new spectacular version of this 12-tone innovative opera only performed at the Met in two separate seasons before: in 1977 and 1980, both under Levine’s baton.

The opera with libretto by Berg (1885-1935) is based on two Lulu plays by the German playwright FrankWedekind (1864-1918.) The plays, Erdgeist (Earth Spirit) and Die Bücher der Pandora (Pandora’s Box), seen as exposing sexual hypocrisy in bourgeois society, were banned throughout Wedekind’s life.

The character Lulu is a fascinating mixture of a femme fatale and victim. Her sexual appeal has her going through three husbands, a son of one of them, an adoring lesbian, and, when reduced to being a prostitute, the wrong “client,” Jack the Ripper, who kills her. She sees herself as reflecting her admirers’ sexual fantasies, while satisfying her own needs. (One can well understand that this did not register well with early 20th Century society. The action takes place in Vienna, Paris and London and managed to offend some in all those cities.)

Lulu’s initial production ran into a slew of legal difficulties with Berg’s widow, because it was questionable whether Berg had a chance to finish the last act of the Prologue and 3-act composition. The unfinished version premiered in Zürich in 1937.The version now performed, has the last act finished by Friedrich Cerrha, using Berg’s 12-tone sketches.

Just in case you are not quite familiar with that innovation, here is a quick review: The composer Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951) pioneered a new approach to tonality. He replaced the familiar diatonic (major or minor keys) in which certain notes have more prominence, with a serial method, in which all 12 notes of an octave are “equal” and are placed in an ordered relationship, he called a “row.” The effect is atonal, but can be rich and surprisingly passionate.

Possibly our modern ear has become accustomed to this sort of atonal approach, because it has affected the works of Igor Stravinsky, Pierre Boulez, Dmitri Shostakovich, Béla Bartók and even Aaron Copland, among others. And thus, the atonality hardly strikes as disturbing anymore.

All atonal music and especially Lulu was not performed in Europe for quite a definite period. It was condemned by Hitler as “Jewish Bolshevism” and by Stalin as “burgeois decadence.” The opera first reappeared at the Venice Biennale in 1949, but did not make much of a splash.

It is making one now, even though the mere mention of its atonality still manages to frighten off a percentage of opera enthusiasts. Be persuaded to brave it. Catch one of these HD encores. You might be pleasantly surprised.

One definite reason is the performance of the German soprano, Marlis Petersen in the title role. Petersen, who has “owned” the part, starring in ten different productions over the years, has decided this is her last season to sing it, so we are privy to a special event. Her sound is ideal for the complicated siren; her physical appearance and dramatic ability make her a thoroughly believable femme fatale. She is called upon to deliver a whole act in relentlessly full voice, the next in lyrical, even coloratura fashion, and the last in a beaten-down whimper at times. Quite a feat…

But, of course, the most striking aspect of this production is the ingenious artwork and the provocative messages projected throughout the performance. It transports us to the era of German Expressionism and the rise of Fascism.

Besides the motley attired singers, Kentridge has a secondary Lulu “performing” on -- and in -- a grand piano to set the eerie mood. Cylindrical masks and huge white hands come on and off her, as well as the real Lulu. Another silent addition is a valet who delivers props. It makes for quite a creepy spectacle.

Since, for once, the projections occupied the entirety of the Met proscenium, the audience at the HDs may have been especially fortunate. The close-ups and semi-close-ups enabled experiencing all the important action and nuances. Every time the cameras pulled back, it became evident that the singers appeared tiny, overwhelmed by the immense projection screens.

The various leading singers all tackled the 12-tone parts with vigor and surprising beauty. Susan Graham, the wonderful American mezzo-soprano who has performed more than 150 times at the Met, made a superb Countess Geschwitz, the loyal lesbian who is Jack the Ripper’s second victim.

Johan Reuter, the Danish bass-baritone, here doubled ably as Dr. Schön and the Ripper. This is ironic, since Dr. Schön is the only man Lulu really loved. The other dual role -- the painter and African prince -- was performed by the American tenor Paul Groves, whom you might have spotted in one of his prior 175 Met performances. The part of the pathetic Alwa, (Schön’s son) was a Met debut for the American tenor Daniel Brenna. And he was good! Lulu’s shifty father, or possible former lover, was made sinister indeed by the German baritone Franz Grundheber. Since there are many spoken moments in the opera, it was good that there were so many singers who could handle them correctly.

The mighty Met orchestra, came through as usual. During an intermission interview with Host Deborah Voigt, the conductor Lothar Koenigs, who said he is addicted to Berg, waxed poetic about the orchestra’s sensitive response.

The tumultuous applause by the Met’s audience seemed to agree. This was a spectacular triumph for a somewhat difficult and disturbing entertainment. Voigt introduced it by saying the Met dedicated this performance to the people of Paris. The last projection was an ominous “Der Tanz ist aus” – The dance is over. We all have to hope it is not.

Because of Thanksgiving, you can catch the encores on Wednesday evening, Dec.2 at 6:30 PM and Thursday, Dec.3rd at 1:00 PM at most movie theatres.