Lenneke Ruiten is the main reason to see Dutch National Opera's Die Entführung aus dem Serail. On opening night she triumphed as Konstanze, a soprano role that is the vocal equivalent of balancing a water jug on your head while walking a tightrope. Johan Simons’ production from 2008 has not aged well. Scenes plotted around sofas and coloratura sex (short, fast notes as orgasmic squeals) are now so commonplace as to feel clichéd. But there are enough musical qualities to compensate. The Netherlands Chamber Orchestra was slick and sprightly under Jérémie Rhorer and bass Peter Rose made an impressive Osmin.
Mozart’s rescue comedy, about a Spanish nobleman trying to abduct his fiancée from a Turkish harem, pits East against West and Muslim against Christian. The libretto exploits cultural clashes for humour, and its preconceptions and orientalist bias make it a challenge to stage. To his credit, Simons tackles these problems head-on. He unveils the plot on a small stage, framed by a sultry painting of a harem scene, within the actual stage. The cast switches between Western and Eastern (Arab rather than Ottoman) costumes. Simons seems to be saying that the way the Western couples, Belmonte and Konstanze and their two servants, see their captors is illusory, like theatrical artifice. Only Osmin, the thuggish overseer of the Pasha’s household, never puts on Western clothes, and this stresses what a cartoonish stereotype he is. In the final act, the onstage theatre comes crumbling down, as do the Europeans’ expectations of the Turks. The Pasha (Bassa Selim) has the power to retain Konstanze as his slave, and to take revenge on his worst enemy by hurting his son, Belmonte. He does neither, letting his captives go free.
Cultural misconception as theatrical deception — it is a sound concept. Unfortunately, its execution falters at the technical level. The spoken dialogue keeps snagging on pauses and drags on. Simons aims at dark comedy, but most of the humour falls flat. Among the singers, Ruiten and Rose came closest to delivering their lines naturally. The sets and costumes manage to be dull and garish at the same time, probably deliberately. The point that Western images of the East are tawdry and fallacious is well taken, but why does Bassa Selim’s house look like a tacky night club with a harem theme? The sheer ugliness of the colliding colours within the brownish décor removes a crucial element of the fascination with the Orient, namely, its seductive power, as does the puzzling portrayal of the Pasha. Here Konstanze has fully succumbed to the Pasha’s charms, but just what these are remains a mystery. Actor Steven Van Watermeulen is directed to play a Bassa Selim totally shorn of charisma. He is a world-weary, love-sick clown, bitter as myrrh and ripe for psychoanalysis.