Recent years have seen discussion about the relevance of opera in a post-modern 21st-century society and its future as a viable art form. How can an art form with roots in Ancient Greece still speak to the masses at a time when both attention spans are diminished, because of technological advances, and classical music is increasingly seen through an elitist lens? Following in the footsteps of his earlier works merging film and virtual reality, Dutch stage and film director, librettist and composer Michel van der Aa faces this issue head on in his latest opera Theory of Flames, premiered at Dutch National Opera as part of the 10th edition of the Opera Forward Festival.
In his new creation, van der Aa, who started his professional life as a recording engineer, intertwines traditional theatre with technology and multimedia. He questions what is actually real in a world where truth is measured against an individual’s lived experience instead of facts. And he asks if it is still possible to relate to others with whom you disagree? By seamlessly synthesising current political topics – fake news and conspiracy theories – with contemporary art forms, van der Aa has created a very unique opera for a modern age.
His engaging plot revolves around Neola, a dedicated film director, who gets caught up in online conspiracy theories when researching her new film about a scientist whose laboratory burns down in dubious circumstances. Delving deeper, she uncovers parallels between fact and fiction, and the line quickly blurs, leaving her partner Marianne and level-headed cameraman Josh, through whose camera lens we view the story, struggling to bring her to her senses.
The set is a feast for the eyes. Co-created by Theun Mosk, Joost Rietdijk and the doubleA Foundation, a mixture of pre-recorded and live film action (controlled in real time by a musician in the pit) flits seamlessly between a series of variously-shaped moving screens, referencing a very alluring pre-1989, East German vibe. Distinctive and vibrant colours – red, black and white, machine green – help propel the action forward.
The small and perfectly formed cast, most of whom van der Aa has worked with before, are led (for the first three performances) by the wonderful British soprano Mary Bevan, making her DNO debut. Her dedication to the craft is real in every sense of the word. Putting aside her exquisite breath control whilst heavily pregnant, her honest and hugely endearing portrayal of Neola’s descent into madness when played as a pregnant woman, added a perhaps unintentional, yet compelling layer of complexity to the narrative. Her touching aria: “I see who you really are” with the hypnotic DNO Chorus set the standard. Similarly, on-screen scientist Julie Bullock’s, “Open your eyes” with muted trumpet, channelled a very raw emotion.
For literary lovers, the quality of the English libretto will not go unnoticed, delivered impeccably by native English speakers. Helen Charlston’s Marianne languished over her kicking ‘k’ in “tiny flickering dots” while an explosive “we wait” sent shivers down the spine. Van der Aa seems to save his most emotive writing for British baritone Roderick Williams’ Josh, manipulating words to create layers of symbolism both figuratively and literally, zooming the camera close to re-focus audience attention. Modern day vernacular, such as referring to Neola’s brain as a ‘’refrigerator under stress” and “If there is a switch, turn it off” plus scientific elements “chlorine, sulphur…” recited ad nausea, sit alongside sophisticated poetic devices. Williams’ tender fragility in “We morph, we split, we sever”, with their undulating syllables repeatedly ascending high into his falsetto range, brought not only a passing nod to Benjamin Britten’s writing for Peter Pears, but also to the rhyme and rhythmic patterns of romantic poet Emily Dickinson. Accompanied by a most delicious horn solo, this was the highlight of the evening.
Hugely-talented musical director Elena Schwarz, whose precision and attention to detail is van der Aa’s secret weapon, masterminded the score. Spoken text was accompanied by abrasive electronics effects vying with syncopated jazz/funk bass vamps (referencing early Radiohead and Peter Gabriel) or searching, sumptuous a cappella choral harmonies, more akin to the resonant sonorities of Voces8.
The Residentie Orkest navigated this complex score with aplomb. By treating electronics simply as another instrument to enhance his musical vocabulary – akin to the introduction of trumpets, trombones and percussion to the modern orchestra – van der Aa appears to lead the way. This is a production you will want to see again, and again.
