Lulu
Even though my knowledge of opera hardly surpasses the novice level, I do enjoy a once-a-year pilgrimage to New York’s Metropolitan Opera House. So when I learned that one of my favorite artists, the South African William Kentridge, produced a relatively young number, called Lulu, I had to go check it out.
A little research showed me that the opera was composed exactly 80 years ago by the Austrian Alan Berg, based in the writings of Benjamin Franklin (call me Frank) Wedekind. Frank Wedekind was born in 1864 in Germany to German parents, however because his parents met and got married in San Francisco, Frank developed a strong, albeit conflicted, bond with his lost homeland. He never went to America, but his works show a idealistic longing. Lulu is no exception as several characters express their desire to flee to America in order to escape their looming demise.
Another Wedekind trait is his willingness to tackle sexual taboos. Way ahead of his time, he describes in great detail issues like rape, prostitution, same-sex relationships and the like. Again Lulu is no exception and can be considered quite racy. However the sex is devoid from love and sentimentality. Lulu goes through a string of men and women, but all liasons end up in flames. Lulu herself finds her demise at the hands of Jack The Ripper.
The Berg libretto is powerful and dense. Even though he had to make cuts in the original oeuvre, the piece still runs close to four hours. Nevertheless one has no time to get bored, as the play and the music race head to head and humor is inserted at just the right moments in an otherwise tragic environment. The visionary Berg started working on Lulu about a year and a half before his death, but unfortunately failed to complete the full score of the last act.
I know and love William Kentridge as a painter, sculptor and visual artist and actually was unaware of him producing these kind of performances. His art is very recognizable from the start as we witness a dazzling succession of projections and collages. Throughout the play, a pianist (who does not play) and a butler (who does not serve) perform, silent motions with strong sexual undertones, embodying the silent spirits of the protagonist and her predators.
Lulu is performed by the German soprano Marlis Petersen. In 10 different productions, she has starred in the role for almost 100 times, and pretty much became Lulu. She is 47, unmarried and without children, and has announced that after this production she will retire the role and move on. The night I went was her last performance and she decided to go out in style. She visible put in everything she had, and even delivered the final scream when Lulu is killed by Jack The Ripper. In past performances this scream was delivered by a stunt double because, after more than three hours of intense singing, she could not risk wounding her voice.
James Levine was instrumental in bringing the production to the Met, but at the end was not healthy enough to conduct himself. This closing performance was brilliantly conducted by the Canadian Derrick Inouye.
Between the music, the singing, the visual effects and the silent performers, there is so much going on that an overload of the senses seems inevitable. At times the opera feels like a runaway train, but somehow it all stays together. It was by far my most enjoyable experience at the Met.