As a rather stage-frightened child, school plays were to me equal parts fun and distress, the thought of the opening (and usually only) night hovering over me as it approached. In all likelihood, such feeling would have been exacerbated and complicated if my teachers had involved me in a reenactment of the Passion – which was, in fact, the core idea of Benedikt von Peter’s staging of Bach’s St Matthew Passion for Deutsche Oper Berlin. Following a tradition of theatrical renditions of the oratorio, the director intended to question the values of the biblical tale by making kids and catechism the focus of his interpretation. In charge of the sizeable ensemble of orchestra, choir and soloists was Alessandro De Marchi, who gave musical tangibility to Peter’s conception.
It was largely the work’s structure, and not only its content, that prompted the production. Scored for two orchestras and two choirs, it is safe to assume that when the Passion was first performed in the Thomaskirche in Leipzig, its acoustic effect was no less than enveloping. Arranging the audience around the central stage, Peter and De Marchi augmented this sensation by splitting the orchestra into smaller groups placed at the four cardinal points of the theatre – two on stage, two in the stalls – so as to form a cross.
A similar treatment was also accorded to the choirs, some of whose members were scattered among the audience, resulting in an immersive experience not unlike a large installation. Obvious symbolism aside, Peter’s aim was to recreate the communal environment of the liturgy, with mass attendants being at once audience and active participants. And indeed, at the entrance of the theatre scores were handed in to the public, who were free to join in singing as members of the congregation.
However, Peter’s seeming compliance with the Passion’s message is riddled with cracks. What unfolds is actually an account of doubt and scepticism in the face of violence, injustice and sacrifice. As the oratorio begins, a group of children is introduced on stage, followed by their religion teacher (actually, the Evangelist), who has cast them in a school play about the Passion. Rehearsals proceed in a series of tableaux vivants, with the pupils being instructed as a three-part screen above them captures their movements into frames. But while smooth at first, the situation grows tense as one girl begins to question the values of the story, clashing with the teacher and eventually stripping herself of her costume to leave the production and start a protest. Throughout the second part, it is not only her classmates who side with her, but some of the soloists too, who had until then circled the rehearsal space without interfering. By overlapping the two levels – music and pantomime – Peter lays out his moral commentary, troubling the surface of the performance. Nevertheless, his critical detachment only just scratched the exterior of the matter, falling somewhat flat of its premises while maintaining a degree of visual appeal.
Standing in the centre of an orchestral panopticon, De Marchi faced no easy task, having to coordinate many different musical aisles spreading in all directions. Expectably, this required a great deal of caution, which may have hindered riskier, more variegated interpretative choices. From the start, the Orchestra of the Deutsche Oper achieved a dense, dusky sound which was a fitting match for the gravity of the score. Remarkably enough, the fragmentation of the ensemble didn’t faze De Marchi, whose alert guidance lent compactness to the whole and allowed for a grand stereophony. While distinctive, though, such features seemed to absorb the conductor almost completely, not leaving much space for anything else. Having settled on a specific pace, De Marchi stuck to it, offering a rendition that was consistent, if slightly monotonous.
Joshua Ellicott and Padraic Rowan led a first-rate vocal cast as the Evangelist and Jesus, respectively. Far from being an impassive narrator, Ellicott sang the part with full emotional involvement, his voice writhing and piercing the air as it retraced the events. In a veritable tour de force, he brought the secco recitatives to life thanks to well-designed phrasing and a strong melodic sense. Much the same could be said for Rowan, whose succinct interventions as Jesus were charged with the deep, lyrical melancholy of his baritone.
Also standing out among the soloists were Annika Schlicht, her broad alto being naturally complemented by the mournful “Erbarme dich”, and Siobhan Stagg, who sang “Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben” with composed but passionate – no puns intended – coloratura. But yet one more protagonist ought to be mentioned: the Chorus of the Deutsche Oper who, under the guidance of Jeremy Bines, embodied the collective voice of Bach’s oratorio with striking cohesion.
