The Volksoper Wien’s world premiere of Alma, by celebrated composer Ella Milch-Sheriff, transforms the familiar narrative surrounding Alma Mahler-Werfel, moving beyond her often one-dimensional portrayal as muse and lover to explore her identity as a mother, creator, and woman defined by passion and tragedy.
With this production, Milch-Sheriff, with director Ruth Brauer-Kvam and conductor (and former Music Director) Omer Meir Wellber, offers an ambitious, emotionally complex vision of Alma’s life, orchestrating a narrative steeped in trauma, loss and cultural mythos. Alma offers an operatically grand, yet deeply resonant treatment of a life marked by unrelenting personal losses, punctuated by Alma's fierce character and largely unfulfilled artistic ambitions. While not breaking with the long, historical tradition of pointing heavily accusing fingers, it ventures far beyond tired tropes of Alma as seductress, known primarily for her romantic entanglements with powerful men.
Milch-Sheriff’s work, to a libretto by Ido Ricklin, relentlessly focuses on motherhood and loss. Each act unfolds as a chapter in Alma’s turbulent journey with her children – both lost and surviving. Opening in 1935, the opera’s initial scenes depict the agonizing death of her teenage daughter Manon Gropius, then reverse through time, uncovering earlier tragedies: her newborn son Martin’s brief life, her decision to abort a child conceived with the painter Oskar Kokoschka, and the death of her daughter, Maria Mahler. These events emerge as central, defining experiences. Milch-Sheriff gives musical voice to Alma’s haunted psyche, capturing the profound emotional toll that these losses exacted, inviting audiences to witness the suffering and resilience of Alma as a mother and artist rather than muse.
The opera’s design and staging add to this complex portrait. Falko Herold’s set, a blend of sculptor’s studio and carnival ride, casts Alma’s past as a spectral “ghost train” where memories appear on wheeled platforms, highlighting the spectral presence of Alma’s lost children and lost ambitions. Alma’s arrival onstage – a symbolic moment in which she emerges from within a grand piano, dressed in an evening gown and fat-suit (costumes by Alfred Mayerhofer) – sets the tone for a journey that is both graceful and grotesque. Annette Dasch’s portrayal of Alma is layered and evocative throughout as well as vocally demanding.
Anna Mahler, Alma’s surviving daughter, emerges as a counterpoint to her mother’s unresolved grief and frustration, offering an anchoring, human perspective to the narrative. While Alma grapples with her own sorrows, Anna serves as observer and critic, a quasi-therapeutic presence framing Alma’s struggles. Annelie Sophie Müller’s portrayal is understated yet impactful, her voluminous mezzo contrasting Alma’s larger-than-life persona with calm realism.
Milch-Sheriff’s score is distinctive in its blend of operatic and modernist elements, and Omer Meir Wellber brought intense energy to her orchestration; the music drove the drama onstage throughout. Each act is imbued with musical motifs revealing Alma’s complex psychological state. Quotes abound, from Gustav Mahler symphonies, Kindertotenlieder and more to moments from Alma’s own songs, as well as nods to Mozart, Bach and more. Manon’s act is infused with distorted, fin-de-siècle waltzes and each lover is given a unique musical identity. Kokoschka’s scenes, harsh marches, are perhaps the most grotesque and powerful, buoyed by the macabre camp of Martin Winkler and a dancing, bloody fetus, a thankless but well-executed role by Hila Baggio, while scenes with Werfel thrust to tango rhythms. In the opera’s climax, we witness Alma’s final act of symbolic renunciation, as she buries her “spiritual children”, marking the beginning of her inner tragedy – one initiated when Gustav Mahler demanded that she give up her composition to support his. This sacrifice becomes the first in a long sequence of personal losses that ultimately define her relationships with children and lovers alike.
While never attempting to delve into what it was exactly about Alma that made her so compelling – she was far from darling and horrendously anti-semitic – Alma emerges as a powerful exploration of the forces, internal and external, that defined Alma Mahler-Werfel, leaving the audience with a haunting, musically compelling impression of a woman whose life was shaped by creation, loss and unfulfilled thirst for personal expression.
