Pappano says of the production that it enables us to concentrate 
                  on these “very strange and disturbed people” in 
                  the interview tacked on to the second disc. The stage action 
                  is indeed set in high relief by the stark yet compelling sets. 
                  This is all prepared on DVD, in fact, by the eerie silence of 
                  the opening titles. Out of black screen emerges the ascending 
                  fourths that themselves announce the Prologue. Everything is 
                  in black and white. The generally simple, black and white sets 
                  tend to emphasize the emotions on stage - the meeting of Geschwitz 
                  (the beautifully toned Jennifer Larmore) and Lulu in Act 2 Scene 
                  1 positively smoulders, for example. The Animal-Trainer (Peter 
                  Rose) is less obviously obsessed with his subject than Gerd 
                  Nienstedt for Boulez. Both Lulu's and August's faces are deliberately 
                  blanked out of emotion. As Lulu shoots Schön, the curtain 
                  has descended by about two thirds - the feeling is claustrophobic, 
                  as if the world is pressing in on all concerned - and on Lulu 
                  in particular. There is no film for the Filmmusik, unfortunately. 
                  Instead, the murdered Schön gets up and walks off stage, 
                  then the characters position themselves for the next scene. 
                  
                    
                  The grim, empty stage that serves for the London scene (act 
                  3 scene 2) accentuates the hopelessness of Lulu's situation. 
                  Lulu's portrait - allegedly brought by Geschwitz - is non-existent; 
                  rather the characters gather in a circular spotlight against 
                  the back of the stage for this moment. After Lulu's death, Larmore 
                  (Geschwitz) once more enters that spotlight as she sings Geschwitz's 
                  magnificently lyrical love song to her beloved. 
                    
                  There is no furniture for the first scene. Men are dressed in 
                  suits, Alwa in a near dress-duplicate of his father. The static, 
                  single-colour background also serves to throw attention on every 
                  gesture of each character. Again, at the onset of Act 3, enigma 
                  is all - as the orchestra tunes, silhouettes mingle in front 
                  of a light blue background; it turns out that this is how the 
                  vital, ruinous drop in Jungfrau shares is set, later, towards 
                  the end of the first scene of Act 3. Alwa is sung by Klaus-Florian 
                  Vogt, who excels in enacting the hormone-driven young man. The 
                  imitations between the voices of Alwa and Lulu - the gap between 
                  statements of their theme become ever close as the seduction 
                  progresses - are expertly managed, as is orchestrally the sensual 
                  entrance of the saxophone. 
                    
                  The 'beggar' who rings the doorbell and interrupts Alwa and 
                  Lulu's impending coitus is the enigmatic Schigolsch (Gwynne 
                  Howell). Their duet - which begins in a single, stationary, 
                  blue-white spotlight - is superbly managed, with a fine sense 
                  of continuing sexual undercurrent. Enter the rather more buttoned-up 
                  Dr Schön (Michael Volle). Volle is in magnificent voice, 
                  and makes, in the final act, a truly creepy Jack the Ripper. 
                  Yet it is the spoken climax of the scene, wherein Lulu declares 
                  her worldly debt to Schön, that carries the most emotional 
                  weight here. Will Hartmann, as the painter driven to suicide, 
                  is persuasive as a besotted victim of Lulu's charms. 
                    
                  Eichenholz's Lulu seems to grow in power until by the end of 
                  act 1, her systematic destruction of Schön is both no surprise 
                  and concurrently a virtuoso display of her power over men. Eichenholz 
                  has the ability to sing the most disjunct lines with the most 
                  wonderfully convincing cantabile - she'd make a great interpreter 
                  of the Webern songs. She has power, too - as when she states 
                  her freedom in the final section of Act 2. 
                    
                  Jennifer Larmore's Geschwitz, although a smaller part, matches 
                  Lulu in terms of expertise and intensity. She comes into her 
                  own in the final act, cuddling Lulu gently while the latter 
                  bargains with Jack the Ripper to stay the night. 
                    
                  Good to see Philip Langridge here, as always the model of eloquence 
                  and sophistication, as behind frosted glass we see Lulu have 
                  a fainting fit. As the Marquis in Act 3, he is the epitome of 
                  slime as he threatens to turn Lulu in to the police. The smaller 
                  roles are uniformly well taken. Heather Schipp especially impresses 
                  as Dresser/Schoolboy/Groom - she's a very street-wise-dressed 
                  schoolboy, by the way. 
                    
                  Pappano paces the moments of drama - the Medical Doctor's fatal 
                  heart attack, for instance - very well. A pity Jeremy White's 
                  heart-attack is so obviously hammed up, especially when thrown 
                  into direct contrast to Alwa's reaction: his hesitant “Herr 
                  Medizin - Herr Medizinalrat ...”. He realizes the yearning 
                  lyricism that shoots through the core of the score, and moments 
                  such as Alwa's cry to the dead Doctor to “Wach auf” 
                  (Wake up) are heart-rending. Pappano also makes aural sense 
                  of the score's most complex moments which, in lesser hands, 
                  usually sound simply ragged, yet he also honours the intense 
                  Romanticism of the orchestral interlude in Act 1 (between Scenes 
                  2 and 3). Act 3 is the real headache for any conductor, with 
                  huge amounts going on at various points. Pappano is not baulked 
                  in the slightest. There is real immediacy here, too, not least 
                  at the moment of Lulu's death, where an orchestral Urschrei 
                  of truly earth-shattering power is unleashed . 
                    
                  Pappano's “extra” is a short almost didactic film 
                  in which Pappano lucidly illustrates Berg's techniques (including 
                  note rows). Pappano sits at the piano - which he uses frequently 
                  to illustrate his points - but short excerpts from the opera 
                  itself are also inserted. This is a lucid, easily followable 
                  discourse on Berg's techniques. Pappano states that Berg “found 
                  a freedom that Schoenberg never found”. Agneta Eichenholz's 
                  interview is fascinating. She is remarkably eloquent in English 
                  and talks of how she learned the part in a year. She isolates 
                  the “rhythm” as the hard part rather than the more 
                  obvious difficulty, the terrifyingly high tessitura Berg sometimes 
                  demands. Her main goal is to act the part, then to sing it, 
                  she says. Lulu is “a little bit of every woman”. 
                  Eichenholz also points to the sets - they “make you feel 
                  naked” and highlight the interpersonal relationships onstage, 
                  particularly Lulu's with Dr Schön. She has learned that 
                  “Lulu is weak and strong at the same time, and that's 
                  OK”. 
                    
                  A fascinating set, one that is truly thought-provoking and stimulating. 
                  
                    
                  Colin Clarke