The charge has often been levied against Offenbach’s operetta La Périchole, itself set within the milieu of spicy Portuguese/Spanish 18th-century political scandals, that it would not be able to translate to a modern, foreign audience. But operetta, when it is done well, leaves room to be constantly updated, an offer which director Nikolaus Habjan and the entire team took and ran with in MusikTheater an der Wien’s new production.
Before the first downbeat the opening backdrop – a persiflage of a long-running campaign spearheaded by the FPÖ, a far-right political party which long exhorted voters to make sure Vienna was not allowed to turn into Istanbul, Chicago or some other supposed hell-hole [“Wien darf nicht Istanbul / Chicago werden] – set the stage (brilliant designs by Julius Theodor Semmelmann). The operetta is set in Lima, but really it’s Vienna. From the trash cans, the characteristic pedestrian crossing signs and a trashy Würstelstand named “Zum scharfen Andres” any lingering doubt was quashed by scads of dialect-filled dialogue.
In a deft combination of the various German language libretti available thanks to Offenbach’s long relationship with Vienna, including German texts and translations of Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halevy’s original text for the Opera Bouffe by Bernd Wilms, Karl Kraus and Stefan Troßbach and unnamed others, they manage to tie in references to political hot-spots and scandals young (Sebastian Kurz’s Ibiza affair) and dead (long-time FPÖ head Jörg Haider) to hilarious effect.
The comedy was in excellent hands, thanks to a deep and well-seasoned cast, a who’s who of Viennese operetta and theater, including Boris Eder, Gerhard Ernst, Tania Golden, Alexander Strömer, Alexandra Maria Timmel and Bettina Soriat, hailing from houses including the Volksoper and Theater an der Josefstadt. As for the signature singing, I found the aesthetic contrast hilarious, brilliant and as eccentric and fun as the ostentatious costumes (drag-fabulous from Cedric Mpaka). The title role was stunningly embodied in Anna Lucia Richter, living her best life as a freshly-made mezzo (Covid lockdowns were apparently used to great advantage for some). Vocally, Richter was a saucy, world-weary youth; her mezzo was technically effortless but richly coloured with smoke and whisky and irritation with her partner, baby-faced Piquillo played by tenor David Fischer. By contrast, Fischer’s sound rang plaintively and loudly and so easily it’s stupid, an adjective applied to his character throughout with alacrity.
The ORF Radio-Symphonieorchester were in top form. Jordan de Souza kept the ensemble energetically jaunting through Offenbach’s flighty score, but took opportunities, beginning in the overture, to subtly shade and contour; this was an impressive showing. If there were occasionally issues it was only with the fleet of microphones used for the vocalists, which I can only imagine to be a technical nightmare to regulate. Equally energetic and engaged were both the Arnold Schoenberg Choir (directed by Erwin Ortner) and a miniature army of other extras, including dancing dogs and one of Habjan’s signature puppets playing a bassoon. Top points to choreographer Ester Balfe, who kept the movement as camp and busy as the rest of this production.
And what about the plot? It doesn’t matter, really. In fact, even thinking about a story that functionally turns around forced marriage, class inequalities, alcohol abuse, repeated coercion, misuse of political power, institutionalized corruption and absolutely zero trace of consent would definitely bring down the vibe. Let’s just focus on the happy ending, and how much fun we all had laughing about so many ridiculous political scandals which, we are reminded, are complete and utter fiction. I mean, who could even imagine anything half that scandalous happening here today?
