Any performance of Arnold Schoenberg’s epic secular cantata Gurre-Lieder is a rare and exceptional musical event. This summer’s Edinburgh International Festival staging was well reported but on the other side of Europe, the Lisinski Concert Hall in Zagreb made history by presenting this gigantic opus not only for the first time in Croatia, but for the first time in the entire Balkans.
The driving force behind this singular triumph over seemingly insurmountable logistics, artistic rivalries and political ambivalence was the octogenarian Musical Director of the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb, maestro Nikša Baresa. Previously a regular conductor at the Wiener Staatsoper and La Scala, Baresa has of late concentrated his formidable talents in his home country of Croatia, and the artistic and musical results are indeed laudable.
The enormous orchestral and vocal demands of Gurre-Lieder are intimidating, starting with a huge massed choir supported by two symphony orchestras, including four harps, seven clarinets and four Wagner tubas – not to mention a mammoth percussion section with the rarity of iron chains for ominous skeletal rattling. Musically, this staggeringly ambitious work from an atonal-tinkering 26-year old is both a reflection of Wagner and Mahler and a foretaste of Richard Strauss, particularly Die Frau ohne Schatten. Alban Berg’s illuminating analysis of Gurre-Lieder identifies 35 different leitmotifs which alone testifies to Schoenberg’s devotion to the bard of Bayreuth. The opening extended E flat major chord in slow 6/8 tempo is identical to the first measures of Das Rhinegold, but instead of brooding and slowly expanding double basses, bassoons and horns, Schoenberg uses chirping flutes and harps to create an Arcadian rather than aquatic ambiance. Hints of Rhinegold, Siegfried and even Parsifal abound but as the composition progressed, rhythmic fluctuations and harmonic progressions are much closer to Mahler, especially Das Klagende Lied.Rhapsodic string passages anticipate the lyricism of Korngold.
Maestro Baresa assembled an impressive collection of soloists, only one of whom was not Croatian. American heldentenor Michael Robert Hendrick sang the Bacchus-esque role of Waldemar with a strong upper register and admirable dramatic insight. Although the lower register could occasionally have been more resonant, this was a heartfelt and powerful performance. Lyrical sections such as “Mit Toves Stimme flüstert der Wald” were especially well phrased. The terrifying monologue when Waldemar confronts God as an equal was electrifying. A clarion top B flat on “Hofnarrn tragen” would have intimidated even the Almighty. As the object of King Waldemar’s illicit affection, the role of Tove was sung by Adela Golac Rilović. Whilst being suitably lyrical with a young Melanie Diener-ish timbre, Rilović was often subsumed by the sheer tsunami of orchestral sound. Longer phrases such as “Die leuchtenden Sterne” were well shaped but overall diction was somewhat lacking and did little justice to the poetry of Jens Peter Jacobsen’s original text. For the same reason, Ozren Bilušić as the Speaker and Siniša Stork as the Farmer were not particularly distinguished.