Salvatore 
          Sciarrino: Composer and Librettist
          Achim Freyer: Director and Set Designer
          Friederike Rinne-Wolf: Co-Director
          Jonannes Debus: Conductor
          Gerd Budschigk: Lighting Designer
          Amanda Freyer: Costume Designer
          Klaus-Peter Kehr: Dramaturg
          
          Cast:
          Sonia Turchetta: Sergeant, Banquo‚s Son, a Murderer, a Carrier
          Annette Stricker: Lady Macbeth
          Otto Katzameier: Macbeth
          Richard Zook: Banquo, the Spirit, an Attendant
          Thomas Mehnert: Duncan, a Courtier, Macduff
          
          Vocal Ensemble: 
          Gabriele Hierdeis, Barbara Ochs, Vanessa Barkowski, Christoph Hierdeis, 
          Johannes Schendel, Helmut Seidenbusch
       
           
          In program notes written for the Schwetzingen Festival, Salvatore Sciarrino 
          wrote, "Nothing builds and arouses like theater with a new language" 
          and throughout this astonishing production, I could not stifle amazement 
          at just how effectively his vision did precisely that. This is not the 
          exhilarating, kinetic bloodbath of filmmaker Roman Polanski, nor the 
          swift drama of Verdi’s version (which the Kirov Opera will present this 
          weekend, also as part of the far-reaching Lincoln Center Festival). 
           
        
           
 
        
        No, this is an eerily quiet, introspective Macbeth, 
        in Sciarrino’s own distinctive, minutely calibrated language.  It 
        is a beautiful score, filled with barely fluttering movement, some of 
        it almost at the threshold of hearing (his Luci Mie Traditrici 
        was presented here in 2001.) Echoing Webern, Kurtág, and others, 
        the sound palette is compiled from tiny gestures, often sparely written, 
        and interpreted here by the formidable Ensemble Modern. 
        
           
 
        
The gorgeous set, by director Achim Freyer, was 
          in a way simply conceived, yet almost palpably disorienting.  Inspired 
          by drawings of the architect Jan Vredeman de Vries (1527-1604), Freyer’s 
          initial image was a charcoal-colored scrim with white lines converging 
          in the distance, creating what appeared to be a vast hallway.  However, 
          when the lighting eventually crept up softly behind it, a three-dimensional 
          version appeared, precisely positioned to match the two-dimensional 
          one.  The walls were covered with rows of De Chirico-esque arched 
          apertures, shrinking smaller and smaller in an extreme perspective, 
          culminating in three tiny doorways, seemingly far in the distance.  
         
          
          Combined with this hallucinatory funhouse, some of the stagecraft was 
          absolutely startling.  At one point Macbeth appeared to walk down 
          the left wall, his body parallel to the floor.  (And make no mistake, 
          he was singing in this position, also.)  Lady Macbeth made a similar 
          entrance, rising up horizontally from the floor on the left side.  But 
          later the back wall became the floor, as if we were now gazing down 
          from high above, with silhouettes of cast members visible in the tiny 
          windows far below.  
           
 
        
As Lady Macbeth, Annette Stricker evoked Elsa 
          Lanchester in Bride of Frankenstein with ghostly white makeup 
          and a huge spear of black hair.  Her sleepwalking scene was completely 
          riveting, even if it probably tested the patience of some.  With 
          her spot-lit head appearing to float in center stage, flanked by six 
          members of the chorus crouched in niches in the walls, she delivered 
          her mesmerizing monologue with everyone onstage virtually motionless. 
           It will be difficult to see any future depiction of the character 
          without recalling Stricker’s frozen, ecstatic smile.
        
      
        
In the title role, Otto Katzameier 
          sang with remarkable beauty, coupled with Kabuki-like discipline and 
          body control.  This was a brooding Macbeth, immersed in constant 
          inward torment, perhaps to the point of numbness.  Even the final 
          sword fight with Macduff was staged with icy formality, rather than 
          physical carnage. Freyer and his brilliant lighting designer, Gerd Budschigk, 
          created a strange and upsetting environment where people have been hypnotized 
          and anesthetized by violence.
          
          The hard-working cast outdid themselves in the demanding score with 
          its constricted vocal range, deploying a highly compressed volume level 
          for most of its two hours, unusual in a work of this scale. Even the 
          witches, crouching in dimly lit openings in the upper right of the set, 
          added to the mood, slowly flexing sets of long, bony fingers.  (Think 
          of the Alien films, with the creature coiled in languorous anticipation.) 
           Thomas Mehnert memorably played Duncan as well as Macduff, and 
          tenor Richard Zook also made the most of his multiple roles, especially 
          Banquo, whose entrance was accompanied by brief passages from Don 
          Giovanni heard through Sciarrino’s glistening prism. 
          
          In this striking scene and elsewhere, the exuberant Ensemble Modern, 
          led by Johannes Debus, easily negotiated the composer’s unusual sonic 
          effects.  When Macbeth hears a knock on the door, it is more ominous 
          because it is difficult to identify exactly what instruments are involved. 
           
          
          Entering this dark, quiet wonderland occasionally requires some concentration, 
          and an above-average willingness to listen carefully. For much of the 
          three acts (performed without intermission), I could feel my brain adjusting 
          incrementally to the exaggerated and continually shifting perspective. 
           And then, for some time afterward I felt a bit light-headed, exiting 
          this claustrophobic hall of mirrors and settling back into the outside 
          world.  
          
          Despite a handful of patrons who left early, most of the opening night 
          audience seemed to be keenly involved, sitting quietly with Sciarrino’s 
          pristine rustlings -- and nary a mobile phone to break the spell. Among 
          the evening’s many strengths was the demonstration that this classic 
          story can undergo almost a complete emotional transformation, into an 
          almost serene tale filled with understatement and delicate moments -- 
          quite a provocative idea.
          
          Bruce Hodges
           
        
        
         
        subject: 
          Salvatore Sciarrino "Macbeth"
          artist: Oper Frankfurt & Ensemble Modern
          season: Festival 2003
          photo credit: Monika Ritterhaus
          description: Salvatore Sciarrino's "Macbeth," U.S. Premiere, 
          Oper Frankfurt
          & Ensemble Modern, July 9-12 at 8:30 p.m., John Jay College Theater