What is it about Philip Glass’ Akhnaten that so fascinates? For Berliners, it may be that the bust of the “most beautiful woman in antiquity”, Nefertiti, Akhnaten's wife, is on display at the Pergamon Museum. The fact is, all performances of Barrie Kosky's new production for Komische Oper were instantly sold out.
Akhnaten was premiered in 1984 at the Staatsoper Stuttgart, where its small orchestra pit was not able to accommodate violins, so Glass simply left them out. The result was revolutionary at the time and solidified Glass' reputation as a master of minimalism.
Although Akhnaten really did exist, very little is known about him. His main claim to fame is to have established monotheism in Ancient Egypt. This change only lasted during his lifetime and reverted to the old order when, because of bad management of his kingdom, he was deposed. Glass’ opera is in three parts, the first featuring the funeral of Akhnaten’s father, Amenhotep III, and the subsequent coronation of Akhnaten. The second part describes the demolition of the temples of the erstwhile god Amun and the love duet between Akhnaten and Nefertiti upon the establishment of the god Aten as the single divine being. The third describes the incitement of the people against Akhnaten, his overthrow and communal lynching. In an epilogue, the spirits of the deceased join Amenhotep's in the beyond.
Kosky decided to do away with any egyptological references and sets Akhnaten in a sterile, brilliantly lit white cube, which gives his stage and lighting designer Klaus Grünberg the opportunity to project abstract patterns and create strobe effects on all surfaces. The eleven scenes are a succession of hymns, prayers, internalised speeches and highly rhythmic, expressive choral numbers under the direction of chorus director, David Cavelius, in seemingly endless loops. The staging is abstract, without time or place, Kosky directing the choristers and singers with his usual aplomb. Praise is due to the choral soloists, the extras and dancers of the Komische Oper and the Vocalconsort Berlin. Kosky creates strong tableaux and impressive action sequences, employing a consistent language of movement reminiscent to that of Robert Wilson.
The absence of violins gives the score a dark and melancholic sound throughout. The impression of monotonous severity conveys the almost hypnotic effect, typical of Glass’ minimalist style. Conductor Jonathan Stockhammer, however, managed to avoid any form of monotony in the seemingly endless repetition by means of minute variations, creating an eerie tension and tightness. To give Glass' minimal music opulence, tonal beauty and full, powerful conciseness, Stockhammer sharpened the rhythms masterfully.
The libretto reinforces this impression of diversity by alternating the use of highly poetic texts in Aramaic, Ancient Egyptian, Hebrew and German with excerpts from a travel guide for contemporary visitors to the historical sites, which helps to demystify the plot. Kosky bases his production on the assumption that a work “almost without narrative and without psychology”, which he defines as a “monotheistic passion” requiring no individual drama, but rather “images full of movement and light” and, above all, precise timing that reflects the often solemn tempi. This resulted in the excellent chorus and dancers expressing the music with either dignified strides or very precise movements that showcased the populace's agitation and turmoil they underwent when a new king upended their world order. The sovereign choir was unsurpassed, combining total commitment with the highest precision to become the indispensable centre of the performance.
The artificiality and ambiguity inherent in the character of Akhnaten was entrusted to countertenor John Holiday who, with his distinctively light and unique timbre, made the role come alive as a naïve dreamer. His wife Nefertiti was sung by mezzo Susan Zarrabi with expressive colour and range. The juxtaposition of countertenor and mezzo proved to be quite exotic in their love duet, shortly after they are pronounced King and Queen. Akhnaten’s mother-in-law, Queen Tye, was sung by soprano Sarah Brady with vocal and physical elegance. Tenor Stefan Cifolelli, as the High Priest, filled the role with the appropriate dignity, while Peter Renz, a much-loved tenor at the theatre for many years, lent the Scribe a touch of humanity.
Minimalism – both musically and staging – does not have to be boring. The Komische Oper’s production of Echnaton proves it.
