By 9:10 they had opened up, so I went on in to say hello. Overpowering smell of mold and dank---a pipe had burst in the wall and they were in he process of drying out. It will take a long time; they are in the basement of a standard five-story building, and air circulation is pretty nil.
I made chit chat, wound up borrowing three books from their exchange-a-book library, and left at 10. On the way to the opera I stopped in at KFC for an early lunch, knowing the opera would not conclude till around 2 pm.
So here we are at the opera house. For 4000 forint ($20) I have what is arguably the best seat in the house... just above and to the left of the royal box. The orchestra pit has been reduced to 50% of its normal size. At stage left an extension covers the pit and will allow the singers to come practically into the audience. The chamber orchestra has two harpsichords, about 4 winds, about a dozen strings.
By 11 am most of the place is occupied, the orchestra has tuned, we are waiting for the conductor. Then the concertmaster gives a little signal with his bow, and the overture starts--sans conductor. Hmm, I think, this is going to be one of those Who the Hell Needs a Conductor peformances. But I am wrong. After the opening section (larghetto, I suppose, if I had to choose a tempo) the conductor comes strolling down the aisle, steps over the barrrier between orchestra and the front row, and then suddenly we presto assai into a rolicing measure whose tempo is visually reinforced by the entrance of one of the players--a somewhat chunky, scruffy-bearded fellow in his mid twenties wearing loud middle-eastern colors and vaguely flowing pajama trousers, plus a pair of earphones, and he is strolling along, rocking to the beat of what he appears to be listening to--in this case, the baroque hip-hop of the orchestra.
As the overture continues he is joined by several others wearing similar garb, a kind of middle-eastern gangster rap crew, that show off to one another by doing break dancing, exaggerated gang signs, and the like. It takes me a few moments to figure out that that the others are the corps de ballet. Mr Chunky must be a singer, probably the comic bass of the opera.
Overture concludes. Now we get to the opening recitativ and aria and are introduced to Xerxes, warrior hero and king of Persia, who is in love with a sycamore tree and who sings Handel's Largo (it is actually largetto but never mind), "Ombra mai piu," an outpouring of his love for his leafy beloved. On stage we see the trunk of the tree, rising up about 30 feet into the proscenium. Xerxes finishes embracing the tree, rubbing it, caressing it, kissing it, and then climbs up into the tree, literally going inside the tree. (this could have been very outrageously sexual, fetish=like, but they didnt go that far). Then we see a sports car being driven by Mr Chunky, accompanied by Countertenor Niceguy who is Xerses' younger brother), come down a semicircular ramp. The car bangs into the tree, the tree shudders and then s l o w l y crashes to the ground. So much for the eternal love Xerxes has for his sycamore tree.
Next we are introduced to GF of Niceguy, who with her sister lives in a middle-eastern 4 story apartment building with external AC units. The lighting seems to suggest that GF and her sister are involved in a very ancient profession normally occupied by females. (I am not sure if that was the intention, but that's how I saw it.) Anyway, we get to meet her and the sister, and then Xerxes gets up from the fallen tree, sees the GF, and immediately is convinced that SHE is THE ONE FOR HIM, and next thing you know we have a triangle and Xerxes (he his the king, after all) uses his absolute authority to banish his brother Mr. Niceguy so he can have GF to himself.
Sister of GF is all for helping Xerxes get his hands on GF, because Sister wants Niceguy. Then there is Jilted Lover, the mezzo, whom Xerxes neglected to pursue his botanical interests. Jilted shows up bearing gasoline cans and dynamite, intent on being a suicide and blowing up Xerxes' palace in the process. Then there is a letter, from Niceguy to GF, but somehow it gets to Sister, who claims (a( it is is addressed to her, (b) and Mr. Niceguy no longer is in love with GF, so (c) GF had better move along and hitch up with Xerxes.
GF resolves to remain true to Mr. Niceguy, despite Xerxes' rubbing the rejection letter into her face, Xerxes can't begin to understand how she can stay true, so he resolves to kill his brother to remove he last reason GF has for remaining true to him.
One more figure to round things out, the father of GF and Sister, a one-armed general, apparently the commander of Xerxes forces. When we first see him he stands tall and straight, he is just missing the one arm.. Later he has a crutch , which he uses as he joins the dancers , who are all dressed in desert camouflage outfits. Still later he has an eyepatch. In the final scene he is confined to a wheelchair.
Xerxes at various times shows up in a sports car, a tank, an airplane, (He throws bombs out of his plane; as they hit the ground, flashes and smoke erupt on stage, "killing" the soldier-dancers below.) and a battleship. There is a shark that swallows Mr. Chunky and drags him beneath the waves. (Chunky later emerges from the water wearing snorkel gear and fins.) And there are about forty gaudy plastic carnival rabbit figures, each about 2' tall, that are Xerxes' attempts to win the favors of GF, who will have none of them, and who enlists her friends to pile them into shopping carts and take them to the ocean and throw them away.
It is all very busy, not necessarily coherent, at least not that I could figure out, but then I don't know the text well enough to comment with any authority. Nevertheless, up until the last scene I was engaged, engrossed, absorbed. Several of the arias were quite well done. The countertenor (Mr Niceguy = Birta Gabor ) was especially good, with one long slow aria of despair and desperation that was quite affecting, and one of anger and revenge that blazed with brilliance.
Then there was the finale.
Now I understand a bit better why there was a deus ex machina in ancient comedy. There is none in Xerxes, but in this performance, as the chorus begain to sing of calm and reason and order being restored and everything being put into its proper place, a subtle rain of glittering flakes started to fall on the singers. What had been intellectual and aesthetic for me suddenly turned emotional. I was transformed for a moment, moved to a different place.
Of course it was a trick, stagecraft, calculation, and all that. But if all I had seen was the finale, I would not have had the same reaction. It is because I had "worked through" the opera, had gone on the journey with the singers and the orchestra and the dancers, that it had the effect on me.
Last night I did a Google search to see if I could find any kind of review of this production. Nothing in English. Nothing from any Hungarian newspapers. I did find a personal blog written in Hungarian, and I used the Google translation tool to see what was being said. In about two pages of comment the writer said that the production made no sense visually (I am not sure I agree, there are things that I found quite appropriate), but that the music was great.
I agree the music was great. I even did something I have never done before. I found the email address of the countertenor (contact@mrniceguy.hu) and actually sent him a fan letter. My very first.
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