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Domen Križaj as Friedrich, Magdalena Hinterdobler as Natalie. © Barbara Aumüller
The Frankfurt Opera has had a great season opening with “The Prince of Homburg”.
In Heinrich von Kleist’s “Prince Friedrich of Homburg” everything is passion and intuition, but in a world that wants to know little about either. The dreamer Friedrich is nevertheless liked by his Prussian military comrades, even if he cannot concentrate during roll call and – as a result or in any case – disobeys orders. This does not always end as well as in Fehrbellin, where Friedrich has not rushed ahead illegally for the first time.
Perhaps, that would be the superficial interpretation, his comrades like him anyway because he has guts. Perhaps, that would be the more modern and stimulating interpretation, it is also because there is more good nature, understanding and daydreaming on earth and in Prussia than one assumes – with good reason.
Since the author is the greatest dreamer of all, this would be a beautiful and memorable statement. However, it is so overshadowed by the pithy ending (the thunder of cannons, “In dust with all the enemies of Brandenburg”) that Kleist’s play could be used as a nationalist beacon for centuries.
In the libretto by the poet Ingeborg Bachmann for the opera by Hans Werner Henze, which premiered in 1960, however, this underground opinion is brought to light several times in the most delicate and at the same time clearest way. For example, in the battle-ready end, Bachmann states once again, no, twice explicitly, “that feeling is the only thing that can save” (a formulation by the old warrior Kottwitz, who means something different). It is not surprising that in Bachmann’s final sequence Kleist’s cries of “Heil” were omitted – how she and Henze must have been horrified by that -. Rather, it is surprising that – after some struggle, as we read – the infamous phrase “In dust with all the enemies of Brandenburg” remained in the text. But now it has been torn from its solid foundations, when feeling is the only thing that can save.
The thunder of the cannons (“Let the thunder of the cannons awaken him”) also made it into the printed version, whereas Bachmann had repeatedly written the (Shakespearean) phrase “Let the music awaken him” in the preliminary versions. More civilisation is not possible, and where Bachmann and Henze pay homage to the strangest of all German poets at the end of the text, they in any case let the music speak a different language. Yes, there is a cannon shot, but the music really does not call to action.
There is no moment in the opera “The Prince of Homburg” in which one could march off and stop thinking and feeling. The brass and drums sometimes pretend, but that won’t work. From today’s perspective, which reads Kleist as intricate, private and ambiguous anyway, Henze and Bachmann bring this enchanted and yet uncomfortable story to itself in the most suitable operatic form possible.
But it is also the opening premiere at the Frankfurt Opera, which was a success in every respect, that helps. A style that clings to the music and text, while maintaining its independence and profile. Director Jens-Daniel Herzog and his team follow the Bachmann-Henze line of civilization meticulously, are skeptical of the Prussian style, and show people on the stage. Takeshi Moriuchi and the Opera and Museum Orchestra give the human voice the space to be heard in all its possibilities.
The version that will be performed is the one revised by Henze 30 years after the premiere, a significant streamlining of the music. The soloists now take over the choir as a fine chamber formation, which not only audibly but also visibly removes anything massy. The transitions to the solo parts are fluid – here everyone is always up to something of their own anyway. Not that you can follow this in the ramifications – and the text is often difficult to understand in the rush of thoughts and feelings – but you can feel and see that many individuals come together here.
The orchestra also offers a complex web of melodies, from which Moriuchi, who has his hands full coordinating, extracts a chamber music-like subtlety despite the size of the ensemble. This is beautiful music, anti-esprit de corps music.
Everyone involved agrees on this. The prominent costumes by designer Johannes Schütz keep the uniforms minimalist. Not only the combinations for the women, but also the classicist cuts for the men surprise with their colorfulness (in a carefully mixed palette that seems contemporary to Kleist!). The soldiers wear items that used to be called bomber jackets when they are on duty. The more soldierly it becomes, the redder it gets; Natalie turns her jacket around as she uses her otherwise rather symbolic role as company commander. The pale faces give the lively troop something doll-like, vulnerable. What do these people want in a battle?
While individuals act in every case – even more clearly than in Kleist, although in Kleist it is also clear for long stretches – the environment is equally un-Prussian and generally abstract. Schütz uses the revolving stage for graphic ideas that can keep everything in smooth motion: at the back, a long, slightly diagonal, illuminated wall with tables for people waiting. This enables silhouette scenes, which are then spectacular for the fighting. It takes place in the classic way with sabres, but – what is that? – there are no opponents at all.
There are also two light, framed giant aquariums, one of which the ensemble rolls in or around, the other can be lowered from the ceiling and then becomes Frederick’s discreet prison, a place of isolation in an environment in which one is already lonely. Only the Elector has a real little work table, in front of which one can beg him for mercy.
The three acts are played in one go (110 minutes), but the stage allows for an even smoother flow. The whole event – Frederick’s dream of fame, his almost fulfilled happiness in love, his misstep in the battle that is nevertheless victorious, his deep fall, his fear of death, his overcoming of his fear of death, the happy ending that one cannot quite believe – is like one giant movement. A dream, what else.
For the ensemble, this opera requires an immense act of concentration. You don’t notice any of this on stage, but you do notice the unease at court. There are distances, embarrassments, small meannesses, great tragic, occasionally pathetic gestures. But everything is exciting and unpredictable. Jens-Daniel Herzog, artistic director in Nuremberg and an old hand at directing, outdoes himself with the relationship construct that is put together to the finest detail. Take the ladies-in-waiting, Juanita Lascarro, Cecelia Hall and Judita Nagyová, whose faces reflect curiosity, coldness, compassion, whatever at every moment. Like the costumes, the direction of the characters also signals that no one is more interesting than the other, an appealing rejection of hierarchical structures.
First among equals: Domen Križaj is the formidable title role, his baritone mild and as defensive as his character, more a shy, somewhat clumsy silent film hero than a tough soldier. He overcomes his fear of death as a human being, not as a well-trained Prussian. Natalie (Magdalena Hinterdobler) is a different type, courageous and straightforward. Her brilliant soprano is powerful, her attitude energetic. It is almost astonishing that the Elector does not give in even more quickly. Yves Saelens also faces the soldiers without trousers, men are obviously not petty in this regard – for their part, the roles in Frankfurt are all exquisitely cast, with Sebastian Geyer as Kottwitz, Iain MacNeil as Dörfling, and Magnus Dietrich as Hohenzollern, who is also splendid. The Electress (Annette Schönmüller) is surrounded by more stiffness and etiquette.
No, the ending is not to be trusted here either. But it was a great evening and a great start to the season.
Frankfurt Opera: September 28, October 5, 12, 19, 25, November 2. www.oper-frankfurt.de
