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Redeemed by its Music Toronto
Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts
02/02/2008 - and 5, 7, 10, 13, 16, 19, 22 February
Leos Janacek: From the House of the Dead
Robert Künzli (Filka Morosov/Luka Kuzmic), Robert Pomakov (Alexandr Petrovic Gorjancikov), Pavlo Hunka (Siskov), Zdenek Plech (Commandant), David Pomeroy (Skuratov), Peter Barrett (Sapkin), Lauren Segal (Aljeja), John Kriter (Old Convict), Lawrence Wiliford (Guard/Offstage Voice), Stephen McClare (Tall Convict), Alexander Hajek (Short Convict), Niculae Raiciu (Convict Cook), Cornelis Opthof (Priest), Steven Sherwood (Drunken Convict), Justin Welsh (Blacksmith), Jon-Paul Décosse (Convict/Don Juan), Sasha Bataligin (Kedril), Michael Barrett (Young Convict), Lisa DiMaria (Prostitute), Andrew Stewart (Cekunov), Adam Luther (Cerevin)
Canadian Opera Company Orchestra and Chorus, Alexander Briger (Conductor), Sandra Horst (Chorus Master)
Dmitri Bertman (Director), Astrid Janson (Set and Costume Designer), Jock Munro (Lighting Designer), Adam Larsen (Projection Designer)
Back in 1910, after Strauss’s Elektra had been given its London premiere, a critic opined that it was “the sternest entertainment ever set before mortal man”. That was, however, when the twentieth century was just getting up its first wind. Many more stern entertainments were to follow, and definitely among them is From the House of the Dead.
The work had a hesitant start to its performing life. Janacek devised his own libretto from Dostoevsky's novel, and died (in 1928) before he had completed the final polishing of the last act. Acolytes thought they were doing a favour by giving it richer orchestration and a more uplifting ending. It wasn’t until about 1980 that Sir Charles Mackerras and John Tyrrell established what is now accepted as the definitive version, using Janacek’s spare, piquant use of a large orchestra. Even in a production as strongly sung as this one, the orchestra, rather than the vocal lines, provides the work’s greatest musical interest. Under the assured direction of Australian conductor Alexander Briger (who turns out to be Mackerras’s nephew), the COC orchestra sound in top form. Kudos also to the male members of the COC chorus, whose haunting laments constitute the most memorable vocal elements of the work. The solo parts can be best described as expressive cadences with nothing resembling an aria.
The work did not receive its North American stage premiere until 1986 in Vancouver, a production I was able to attend. Even today productions are not exactly thick on the ground. The website Operabase (www.operabase.com) lists 73 productions of Janacek works since 2006, with From the House of the Dead produced in just five theatres, with three of the cities (Amsterdam, Vienna, Aix-en-Provence) sharing one production. Toronto’s is the only one on this side of the Atlantic.
The plot (such as it is): Russia, 19th century; a political prisoner arrives at a brutal Siberian prison camp; he is mistreated by the authorities. Other prisoners recount their sad stories, usually involving a mixture of booze and mayhem. The political prisoner befriends a youth and teaches him to read. At a festive occasion there are short mimed performances of a version of the Don Juan story, plus that of a female Don Juan who finds herself receiving several swains in quick succession. Prostitutes arrive. At the end of the piece, a captive eagle is released and so is the political prisoner.
It is very difficult to overcome the fundamental lack of drama in the libretto. One huge problem is that the various prisoners who recount their squalid tales are hard to differentiate. There is a hint of a dramatic arc when the final prisoner’s tale (that of Siskov) is found to involve another prisoner (Luka) whose story is recounted earlier and who passes under two names, but only those who have done their homework (such as a reviewer) are likely to realize this.
Last season, director Dmitri Bertman imposed another stage drama on top of La Traviata. Here again he makes several changes to the original scenario, but this time emphasizing the bleak vision put forth by Dostoevsky and Janacek. Bertman’s innovations deny the inmates the possible consolations of religion or sex. For example: the priest delivers his sole line (proclaiming Easter) dressed in prisoner’s garb. In Act III, the character (Cerevin) listening closely to Siskov’s lengthy confessional tale, is dressed in a priest’s robe - but then he tears his robe off and is revealed as yet another armed guard. In Act II, the youth Aljeja, is supposed to be injured by an enraged fellow prisoner, but instead is shot by a guard. The brief scene between a convict and the prostitute does not end with them going off together, but with her ditching the would-be customer. The 90-minute work is already full of business that is a challenge to clarify. Bertman and his team might have better put their efforts into doing this.
The overall look of the production is striking. During the overture we see a film of an eagle’s head and it turns out there is a man’s face reflected in its eye. The man turns out to be Alexandr Petrovic Gorjancikov, the political prisoner whose arrival sets off the meagre plot. The set has three levels. The lowest is a set of cages containing the prisoners, on top of which is a grand table where the obese commandant, looking like an image from a Botero painting, presides. Higher up on catwalks are guards watching surveillance monitors. There are eighteen such monitors but the images on them present clarifying detail useful only to those audience members close enough to make them out. There are some large projections offering comment and visual variety and these could have been used to greater effect rather than the multiple small monitors. The initial appearance of the eagle (a Harris Hawk is used) and its subsequent handling are very effectively done.
There is really no resolution to this intractable material. Gorjancikov’s release is a laconic event that simply happens in due course and the other prisoners are left to endure the camp’s brutal routine. The now-healed eagle is released and its startling flight (and accompanying music) is the one uplifting moment that rescues the piece from terminal dire dreariness.
This production was a special project of Richard Bradshaw, the COC’s director who died suddenly last August and it is dedicated as a tribute to him. We were fortunate in getting Maestro Briger to replace him. He and Mr. Bertman have wrought committed performances from all involved.
Michael Johnson
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