Playing it straight

The ax that falls during the overture in the National Theater's new Idomeneo is a perfect metaphor, not just for the doom hanging over one of the main characters, but for the cuts that have plagued the opera since its inception - including this production. But there's a lot to like otherwise, notably a strong singing cast, smart stage direction and a vibrant performance in the pit that imbues this clunky relic with fresh energy and puts the focus squarely where it belongs: on the music.

Mozart was just 24 when he was commissioned to compose an opera for the royal court in Munich. Though it was a great opportunity, the commission came with tight restrictions; the subject and librettist had already been determined, and the opera seria conventions of the time dictated much of the form, down to what type of arias each character should sing.

The Greek king Idomeneo, coming home from the Trojan War, was a popular figure in Baroque theater, embodying a great device known as the "sacrifice drama." Caught in a storm and facing death, Idomeneo vows to Neptune that if the god of the seas will save him, he will repay him with a human sacrifice - the first person he meets when he comes ashore. That turns out to be his son, Idamante, who is already caught between the competing affections of two captured princesses, Ilia and Elektra. Idomeneo's attempts to renege on his vow bring down the wrath of the gods, and true love looks imperiled as well until a fearsome deux ex machina sets everything right.

How to freshen such an antiquity? The short answer is, it's better not to try. One of the most notorious attempts was made in Berlin a few years ago, when director Hans Neuenfels decided to add a contemporary religious edge with the severed heads of Neptune, Jesus, Buddha and Mohammed, raising fears of a Muslim backlash that forced the cancellation of some performances. Good operas have a way of making themselves relevant over time; in the very first aria of this one, Ilia poses the musical question, "How can I love a Greek?"

Stage director Yoshi Oida wisely gets out of the way of the material rather than trying to embellish it, though he puts his own stamp on this production halfway through the overture, when an extra walks on stage and swings a large ax, firmly planting it in a chopping block. That sharp, single whack recaps all the violence of the Trojan War and sets the stage for the danger facing Idamante, whose head literally goes on the chopping block in the final act.

Clothed in vaguely classical robes and gowns, the singers move through spare but striking sets that invoke the seashore, a temple and the royal court of Crete, with a projection screen appearing periodically to add accents of water, wind and storm. With great dramatic lighting, the set mostly works, though by the end of the evening the screen is more of a distraction than an enhancement.

But the singing is beautiful, starting with noted Czech soprano Martina Janková, who plays the troubled Ilia. Now based in Switzerland, Janková is usually in Prague only for recitals, so it's a treat to see her in a full-blown opera role, rendering Mozart's sensitive vocal lines in warm, lustrous tones. (In future performances, Janková alternates with the National Theater's rising star soprano, Kateřina Kněžíková.) It's unfortunate that the opera seria format didn't allow for more ensemble pieces, as one of the loveliest moments of the May 6 premiere was Janková's duet with soprano Hannah Esther Minutillo, singing the trouser role of Idamante. In the title role, American tenor Charles Workman did a commendable job just getting onstage, as he was ill and obviously not in full voice. And Csilla Boross added some fiery dramatic notes as Elektra.

The aforementioned cuts started in rehearsals in 1780, when Mozart was forced to rewrite or delete entire arias, and continued through his frustrated efforts to have Idomeneo staged in Vienna in 1781 and 1786. For this production, the sea monster unleashed by Neptune has been eliminated - not a bad move, as it keeps the conflict focused on Idomeneo's anguished decision. Moving some of Ilia's and Idamante's arias from the third to second act also works as a method of strengthening their blossoming love affair.

But the decision to make Elektra's lament at losing Idamante the final scene of the night, rather than the usual choral send-off for the new king and queen of Crete, is puzzling and deflating. According to the program notes, that was done to leave the audience pondering the indeterminate fate of both Elektra and Idomeneo, who prevents her from killing herself. Which would be all well and good if this were a psychological drama. But it's a poor fit in what is otherwise a straightforward opera seria, and ends the evening on a sour note.

Otherwise, Oida is a talented director who can do more with six extras brandishing long bamboo poles than most other directors can do with 40 people onstage. And conductor Tomáš Netopil gets a spirited performance from the orchestra, emphasizing the exuberance and bright colors in the score.

In the end, the music is the real star, and the reason to see this production. It's like a preview and blueprint of the operatic marvels to come, with the young Mozart starting to find his own voice as a composer. Thoughtless cuts, whether in the presentation of the piece or to prophets' heads, will always be part of Idomeneo. But ultimately, the music triumphs over them all.

Frank Kuznik can be reached at
fkuznik@praguepost.com