An Opera Rarity Reclaimed Its Place in the Repertoire

BERLIN — There’s a show for anyone who wants more opera in their own way from Strauss’s “Ariadne auf Naxos”, or who craves works that embrace both modernism and melodic wit (with an elegant storytelling throughout): Jaromir Weinberger’s “Puppy Schwanda.”

Alongside revivals of Monteverdi’s “L’Orfeo” and Mozart’s “Don Giovanni”, a new production of this musical comedy was the highlight of last weekend here at the Komische Oper – Andreas Homoki’s strong, occasionally orchestral performance led by the company’s general music director Ainars Rubikis, with a risky staging and a romping.

Composed in 1927 with a libretto by Milos Kares, “Schwanda” is a good time but also shrewdly thoughtful. (Often played in the German translation of Max Brod, as in the Komische Oper.) The story of a talented artist’s pursuit of fame, cheating on his wife, and then going to hell and back shifts elements from many other works: a musician protagonist; a woman whose long-term suffering begins immediately after marriage; an accomplice sibling; an angry queen; real Devil.

Although there are no bagpipes in the orchestra, the undulating counterpoint of the overture is ignited by wind figures suggestive of the instrument. Later, these motifs also provide a folkloric backdrop for the on-stage imitation by the leading baritone.

Some of the music has proven enduringly popular in the concert hall. “Polka,” a melody within the fairy tale that made the Schwanda character a hit among royal audiences (and later, a hell of a bop in its fugal adaptation), was a mid-century staple directed by. Herbert von Karajan and Dimitri Mitropoulos.

Still, “Schwanda” is a rarity on the stage—especially in the United States, despite the work’s 1931 Metropolitan Opera debut to critical acclaim. Olin Downes cited Smetana, Puccini, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Strauss when reviewing this premiere in The New York Times. When evaluating the score, that he thought was “written in a very swift, witty and brilliant technique”, if not exactly a “first order work”.

In Komische Oper, a haven for long-lost theatrical treasures, Homoki’s staging creates a compelling situation for the work’s return to the repertoire. (If only I could snap my fingers and bring it to New York like the company’s production of “The Magic Flute” Mostly at the Mozart Festival in 2019I wouldn’t hesitate.) The first act flies in an 80-minute rush, during which Schwanda, a locally famous piper, begins to pursue fame by Babinsky – a thief like Robin Hood himself but more of a swindler. He’s in a neighboring kingdom, and he’s getting a little more attention than he expected.

Schwanda’s new fan is the Queen (a role once sung by the great mezzo-soprano) Christa Ludwig), otherwise under the Sorcerer’s spell. But his music seems to set him free, and the public is happy to have an artist as potential king. What about his wife, Dorotka? When he appears, Schwanda swears that nothing is undesirable on his eternal soul and immediately falls into hell. Spoiler alert: It brings him back alive, unharmed.

Homoki’s production was conceived by Paul Zoller as a backup, using rapidly changing stage images to create a visual intoxication. An idyllic tree is the medium of domestic happiness; A spiral staircase provides a public platform for citizens in transit and bastions for the royals crawling around. Klaus Bruns’ costumes—like Babinsky’s ragged shirt cuffs and the Magician’s gaudy sparkly purple evening jacket—are as flawless or dreamy as they should be.

As Babinsky, tenor Tilmann Unger played some early scenes. But throughout the first act, Daniel Schmutzhard’s direct, bright baritone voice found a flexibility that gave his Schwanda a soft melodic streak. Soprano Kiandra Howarth as Dorotka had the measure of the opera’s nod to the ballad—along with the spark in her tone and the comfortably ringing top notes.

Bas Jens Larsen – a member of the Komische Oper group, an unforgettable Cadmus During the 2019 staging The Bassarids – He brought exploding evil to the Magician, and had a perfect stage partner in mezzo-soprano Ursula Hesse von den Steinen. As queen, she joined in on milky proclamations with trance-like movements as she glided over Weinberger’s chromatic, land-ready string harmonies.

II. The staging in the Act is a gamble on his journey to hell. As Homoki portrays both Hitler and Stalin as members of Satan’s entourage, he begs viewers to stereotype him. None of this seems motivated by didacticism. Instead, the election is recorded as a manifestation of the mediocrity of a cursed afterlife and an impossibly bored Satan. (He shoots dictators over and over, like a Grindhouse filmmaker who’s off topic.)

This spigot gets tired quickly. But Weinberger’s music rarely stops, and throughout he balances invention with pleasure. All of a sudden, after the Devil tries to take Schwanda’s bagpipe, he fails to play “Polka”. Downes described the music here as “a hideous atonal parody”; Later, Heinz Wallberg’s CBS recording played the dissonant effect, as if it didn’t bother the audience. Fortunately, this was not the case with the Komische Oper. Although Rubikis is a pioneer of contemporary works such as John Adams’ Chamber Symphony, he excitingly incorporates everything into the cacophony, proposing the moment as a frenzy.

If any comment from “Schwanda” goes to the record, it is this comment. After all, the company had done the same for Weinberger before. He saved another work from obscurity: “Spring Storms”, where house leader Barrie Kosky directs from a new arrangement of the nearly lost score in early 2020.

HE IS Production available on Blu-ray and DVD from Naxos. Then “Schwanda” should come. That way, instead of in July when the show returns Komische Opera Festivalvisible to viewers far and wide.