A Tale of Two Premieres: Coll’s “Enemigo” and Bartók’s Dark Visions at the Teatro Real
The world of opera is experiencing a vibrant resurgence,fueled by composers willing to challenge conventions and institutions dedicated to showcasing their work.Recent performances at the Teatro Real in Madrid – a bastion of operatic tradition since 1850 – exemplify this dynamic, offering a compelling contrast between the contemporary urgency of Jesús Coll’s Enemigo and the enduring power of Béla Bartók‘s 20th-century masterpieces. These productions weren’t simply evenings of music; they were statements about the present and future of the art form.
Coll’s Enemigo: A Modern Drama in Discomforting Harmony
Jesús Coll, a Spanish composer returning to his native land, unveiled Enemigo – an opera based on Henrik Ibsen‘s An Enemy of the people – to a receptive, yet discerning, Madrid audience. The work is a bold undertaking, tackling themes of societal hypocrisy and the perils of truth-telling with a musical language that deliberately unsettles. Coll doesn’t offer easy listening. The score is characterized by a deliberately “lopsided” 7/8 meter and a harmony that feels deliberately “mangled” around a G major foundation. These aren’t flaws, but intentional choices, mirroring the fractured moral landscape of Ibsen’s play and the disruptive force of the protagonist, Dr. Stockmann.
These folkloric elements, appearing intermittently, hint at the very popular energies that ultimately turn against Stockmann, the doctor who dares to expose the contamination of the town’s lucrative baths. Coll masterfully portrays Stockmann himself through contrasting musical styles – boisterous, chattering passages giving way to moments of Wagnerian grandeur, ultimately culminating in a poignant, elegiac tone that underscores the tragedy of his isolation. The crowd scenes, though concise, are explosive, with orchestral passages that evoke the raw, untamed power of nature itself, indifferent to human drama.
The opening night cast, while committed, occasionally struggled to overcome Coll’s powerfully dense orchestration. Baritone José Antonio López, possessing a handsome and agile voice, found it challenging to project above the sonic landscape. However, American soprano Brenda Rae, as Stockmann’s daughter Petra, shone brightly, effortlessly navigating brilliant high notes and imbuing her performance with expressive depth. Coll, conducting his own work, led with a clear and confident hand, perhaps indulging his players slightly, but ultimately eliciting a performance that resonated deeply with the audience. The eager ovation he received wasn’t merely a display of hometown pride; it was a recognition of a meaningful new voice in opera.
Bartók’s Psychological Landscapes: Mandarin and Bluebeard’s Castle
The Teatro Real’s commitment to contemporary opera extends beyond premieres, with twenty world premieres since 1997. This dedication was further demonstrated with an all-Bartók evening featuring the one-act ballet The Miraculous Mandarin and the one-act opera Bluebeard’s Castle, framed by the first movement of music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta. Under the leadership of Catalan impresario Joan Matabosch, the Teatro Real has successfully navigated the delicate balance between innovation and tradition, appealing to both progressive audiences and more conservative tastes.
The production, directed by veteran German director Christof Loy (who recently founded a company dedicated to reviving zarzuelas in Madrid), opted for a stark, minimalist aesthetic. The sets, designed by Márton Ágh, presented a nondescript urban wasteland – a beat-up telephone booth, a hulking warehouse, scattered debris. This setting proved especially effective for The Miraculous Mandarin, with its depiction of desperation and exploitation. While a slightly more conceptual fit for Bluebeard’s Castle, Loy’s gritty minimalism, infused with a bleak, Beckettian humor, created a cohesive atmosphere for the entire evening.
Loy’s choreography for Mandarin was free and athletic, often suggesting a brutal, sexualized struggle. Carla Pérez Mora delivered a fiercely self-possessed performance as the girl, while Gorka Culebras portrayed the Mandarin as a profoundly suffering figure. However, it was Evelyn Herlitzius, as Judith in Bluebeard’s Castle, who truly captivated. Her performance was nothing short of revelatory, conveying the character’s internal turmoil with cutting vocal force and subtle, yet devastating, physical gestures. Her simple act of resignedly folding her hands spoke volumes about the inevitability of fate – a portrayal reminiscent of the legendary Anja Silja. Christof Fischesser
