Act 2 of ‘Die Tote Stadt’ by Karen Almond
Paul, a man long depressed over the death of his wife Marie, spots a woman on the streets of Bruges. Could it be…? She’s a dead-ringer for his beloved! Surely this is a sign! He invites her to his lonely mansion, hoping to woo her and relive his happiness through her. But can that ever happen? Doesn’t he see that this coarse woman lacks Marie’s refinement? How healthy can an obsession be?
That’s the plot for Erich Wolfgang’s opera Die Tote Stadt (The Dead City), one of the huge operatic hits of the 1920s but rarely performed today. Indeed, Korngold’s own reputation rests more on his Oscar-winning film scores than his operas.
It’s a shame, because Stadt prefigures the psychological complexity of much of 20th century art, from Hitchcock films (especially Vertigo) to the surrealist movement and beyond. Composed when Korngold was just 23, it has a jaunty, driving through-line — much more in the nature of a dramatic underscore for a motion picture than as the basis for a traditional opera. (Despite its German title, the music is almost wholly without a ponderous tone, instead creating a late Romantic feel.)
And therein lies the conundrum. This production from the Dallas Opera, dazzlingly staged with multimedia components by director Mikael Melbye, is a feast for the eyes and ears despite the singing. While the cast is good, it’s the pulsating, lively and modern style of the music that keeps our interest. Mardi Byers, as Marie, seems occasionally overwhelmed by the score, and Jay Hunter Morris as Paul sounds frequently strained and unsure. (It is set is Bruges — maybe be was a little phlegmish. Ahem.) As much of Acts 1 and 3 are two-handers, relying on the leads to carry the narrative, this presents problems.
Those problems fade, however, when baritone Weston Hurt lumbers onstage as Paul’s friend, his rich, resonant voice undergirding the mystery of the piece, and Morgan Smith all but steals Act 2 as an actor-friend of Marie. (It also doesn’t hurt to see Tony Trahan, in a nonsinging role, providing more than a little eye candy.)
Melbye’s use of video projection and scrims is inventive, and conductor Sebastian Lang-Lessing pushes the orchestra along (though he loses a bit of unity near the end of Act 3 — maybe that is just meant to reflect the swirling energy of Paul’s mind, but I doubt it). The city may be dead, but this production is very much alive.
Die Tote Stadt will be performed March 26, 29 and April 6 at the Winspear Opera House; The Barber of Seville opens there Friday.