Over 100 years after its premiere in 1909, Richard Strauss’s one-act play “Elektra” has in no way lost its ability to shock. The formula is blood-drenching Greek tragedy filtered through Nietzsche and Freud, the result a bunch of extravagant characters teetering on the brink of madness. To achieve this, Strauss uses everything he has: gigantic orchestra, stark dissonances, and a leading role that surpasses Wagner in the demands it places on the soloist’s strength and stamina. One can be excused for describing “Elektra” as an hour and a half modernist frontal attack on the soul and sensory apparatus. However, it is a frontal assault none of us will want to miss. “Elektra” Opera in one act by Richard Strauss, based on a play by Hugo von Hoffmannsthal Hoffmannsthal’s “Elektra” (1903) was a modernization of Sophocles’ tragedy (ca. 410 BC), strongly influenced by Nietzsche’s “Dionysian” understanding of antiquity and of Freud’s theories on hysteria Strauss saw a production of Hoffmannsthal’s “Elektra” around 1905, and received permission from the playwright to change the text into an opera libretto, mainly by shortening it and reducing the number of characters. The opera premiered in Dresden on 25 January 1909, and quickly became a sensation “Elektra” uses a greatly expanded orchestra, and is written in a sometimes very dissonant tonal language Plot summary: After returning from the Trojan War, King Agamemnon is killed with an ax in the bath by Queen Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus. Klytaimnestra then keeps her two daughters Elektra and Chrysotemis confined in the palace. Chrysotemis wants children and longs for a life of freedom. Elektra, on the other hand, has only one goal: to avenge the murder of her father. She lives an animal life out in the castle yard where every night she relives the horrific crime she witnessed. The brother Orestes returns home after many years in exile. He avenges his father by killing first Klytaimnestra (his mother), then Aegisthus. Elektra dances ecstatically and falls over dead. From Greek antiquity to modern Norwegian outskirts Under Ole Anders Tandberg’s direction, Queen Klytaimnestra’s palace in Mycenae has been turned into a spartan detached house on the outskirts of Oslo with worn plaster and peeling window frames. In typical Tandberg fashion, this scene of the action is presented as isolated and detached, surrounded by a kind of eternal night-black darkness. This scenography never becomes static and stagnant. Effective use of the revolving stage constantly creates new perspectives on the terrifying building. Around the house, scenographer Erlend Birkeland has placed an enormous rig of spotlights that flood the stage with the flashes of ecstasy in the main character’s psyche. The effect is striking, but diminishes somewhat as the element of surprise wears off. Exactly what kind of people live in the house, and thus what is the setting for the horrors that unfold within its four walls, we will never know. DARKNESS: Director Ole Anders Tandberg has set the action in a dilapidated childhood home on the outskirts of Oslo. Front: Gun-Brit Barkmin in the role of Elektra. Photo: Erik Berg Weakened actuality The move is typical for Tandberg, who has a striking ability to create performances that have both something abstract and concrete about them. Here, the result is nonetheless experienced a bit like admiring the ruins of antiquity through the wrong end of the binoculars: the mythological actuality of antiquity disappears as if out of sight. The opera’s illumination of the soul’s destructive wanderings ends up as a depiction of a dysfunctional environment where a lot of strange things happen behind closed curtains. Orestes emerges after completing his act of vengeance dripping with blood from head to toe. Who the hell is killing people like this these days? Yes, of course this is about emphasizing the gravity of the moment: Orestes’ bestial matricide, an act that has sent shock waves through Western culture for millennia. But again, it is as if Tandberg loses control over his own scenic means. The impression is reinforced by the fact that what we are witnessing is not the human psyche blown up to grotesque proportions, but instead a gang of criminal goons who are completely outside society. A bit too smashing EXCESSIVELY CHIC: Gun-Brit Barkmin as Elektra. Photo: Erik Berg / DNOB Much positive can be said about Gun-Brit Barkmin’s performance in the very demanding role of Elektra. Barkmin undoubtedly has both a good voice and a lot of charisma on stage. I still think it is a fundamental problem with the show that the Elektra character never becomes extreme enough, either vocally or scenically. Elektra actually looks pretty smashing with her suitably tousled short hairdo, dressed up in her murdered father’s dark blue wool coat and baggy Dressmann trousers. All in all, Elektra appears as a person with quite a lot of control over her own emotional life. Is this really a woman who eats with the dogs, and who claims that she “carries a vulture in her bosom”? Klytaimnestra, on the other hand, appears in mezzo-soprano Anna Larsson’s interpretation as excessively weak and lovable. The hair-raising dialogue between mother and daughter midway through – the opera’s psychological focal point – thus ends up as a rather tame affair. I never get any sense of confrontation between superhumanly strong personalities torn apart by even stronger inner demons. HIGHLIGHT: Soprano Elisabeth Teige as sister Chrysotemis. Photo: Erik Berg / DNOB Fully cast Teige The performance’s most fully cast character is Chrysotemis, sung with great warmth and intensity by soprano Elisabeth Teige. Her portrait of the sister who longs for normality outside the horrible house is the vocal highlight in a performance that is consistently strong on the vocal side. “Elektra” has a number of minor roles, and here it was a solid level across the board. However, it was difficult to avoid noticing the young soprano Hedvig Haugerud. I look forward to experiencing her in larger roles on Norwegian opera stages. Maybe even like Elektra. SOLID: In the middle in blue: Anna Larsson (Klytaimnestra). From left: Tone Kummervold, Christina Jønsi, Eli Kristin Hansveen, Melissa Baug and Hedvid Haugerud. Photo: Erik Berg / DNOB Brilliant orchestra Strauss later admitted that the powerful orchestral movement in “Elektra” made inhuman demands on the singers, and joked that the opera should be conducted like Mendelssohn. If not exactly flamboyant, the orchestra at the premiere never came across as massive and impenetrable. Strauss’s orchestral movement is really a giant mosaic of detail, and conductor Petr Popelka made every humming bass and trilling piccolo shine. It was also a decent punch, when it was needed. Unfortunately, I experienced a similar dramatic move from the stage a little too rarely. I suppose that Ole Anders Tandberg’s ambition was to show that tragedies of the Greek format can appear where you least expect it. It doesn’t quite work out this time. news reviewer Photo: Adam Olsson / DNOB Title: “Elektra” Venue: The Norwegian Opera and Ballet Music: Richard Strauss Libretto: Hugo von Hofmannsthal Musical direction: Petr Popelka Director: Ole Anders Tandberg Scenography: Erlend Birkeland Costume designer: Maria Geber Lighting designer: Yi Zhao Choreographer: Raja Feather Kelly Video designer: Clement Irbil Cast: Gun-Brit Barkmin (Elektra), Anna Larsson (Klytaimnestra), Elisabeth Teige (Krysotemis), Magnus Staveland (Aigistos), Yngve Søberg (Orestes), Natnael Vasile Uifalean (Orestes’ companion), Eli Kristin Hanssveen (The confidante/caretaker), Simen Bredesen (A young servant), Johann Dornwald (An old servant), Tone Kummervold (1st Maid), Christina Jønsi (2nd Maid), Melissa Baug (3rd Maid), Hedvig Haugerud (4th Maid/Carrier), Eva Langeland Gjerde (5th Maid) Date: 21 January – 10 February
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“Elektra” at The Norwegian Opera and Ballet – news Culture and entertainment
