When I was looking at the Munich theatre calendar a few weeks ago, I had a brilliant idea. Strauss’s Die schweigsame Frau was playing at the Staatsoper. At the same time, a new play called Das schweigende Mädchen was playing at the Kammerspiele. While these probably didn’t have much to do with each other other than the titles, wouldn’t it be fun to see them both and write a joint review?
As it turns out, my brilliant idea was not so brilliant, because I have no clue what happened in Das schweigende Mädchen. It was an unstaged reading, and the lack of stage action made it difficult for me to follow the plot (and also nearly put me to sleep). It doesn’t really help that this contemporary piece was about the NSU trials, which I hadn’t heard of and knew nothing about. It drew parallels (or rather, opposites?) between the trials and the Bible, and the eponymous girl was sometimes the virgin Mary. The characters seemed to be a judge, three angels, Jesus Christ, and two prophets (or maybe they were the same person—they were identically dressed and mimicked each other’s gestures). There was a bit about cats going to heaven. And that is literally everything I can tell you about this play.
Fortunately, Die schweigsame Frau was more my speed. (Unlike my last time at the Bayerische Staatsoper, there were even supertitles.) I went with the lovely Mary Grace Nguyen, so check out her review for a complete account. A few of my scattered thoughts are below.
Richard Strauss will never make my “favorite composers” list. The music was predictably noisy and often unmelodic (though there were some stunning lyric moments, too). And the plot was awfully silly. But the singers were perfect. Special mentions go to Tara Erraught as Carlotta for her Bayerisch dialogue, Nikolay Borchev as the barber (masseuse?) for rocking what seemed like a punishingly difficult vocal part, and Brenda Rae as Aminta for the most ridiculous floated pianissimo high notes I have ever heard. Director Barrie Kosky and set and costume designer Esther Bialias deserve kudos for their staging of act III. The effect with coins (the black platform onstage rose in a shower of gold coins, revealing a lit disco floor) was both visually and acoustically stunning. Also, my eyes are scarred forever by the sight of a half-painted hot-pink stand supporting a harpischord with a red interior. I might not forgive Ms. Bialias for that, appropriate as it was.
Unfortunately, I can’t post photos of this production, but it’s well worth checking out the production photos posted by the Staatsoper. It’s also worth noting that Die schweigsame Frau was broadcast online live and for free. If you missed it, it’s too late for this particular opera, but the BSO has plenty more broadcasts coming up.
My German Season 