United Kingdom Abramović/Nikodijević, 7 Deaths of Maria Callas (UK premiere): Soloists, Chorus and Orchestra of English National Opera / Yoel Gamzou (conductor). London Coliseum, 3.22.2023. (CC)
Production:
Director, Set designer and Scenography – Marina Abramović
Revival director – Georgine Maria-Magdalena Balk
Associate set designer – Anna Schöttl
Costume designer – Riccardo Tisci (for Burberry)
Lighting designer – Urs Schönebaum
Sound designer – Luka Kozlovacki
Film director – Nabil Elderkin
Designer of video intermezzos – Marco Brambilla
Cast:
Maria Callas – Marina Abramović
Actor in film sequences – William Dafoe
Diva I (Violetta Valéry) – Eri Nakamura
Diva II (Floria Tosca) – Elbenita Kajtazi
Diva III (Desdemona) – Nadine Benjamin
Diva IV (Cio-Cio San) – Karah Son
Diva V (Carmen) – Aigul Akhmetshina
Diva VI (Lucia Ashton) – Sarah Tynan
Diva VII (Norma) – Sophie Bevan
So, Marina Abramović’s 7 Deaths of Maria Callas finally makes it to the UK. But just what it is, though, might well be up for debate. It is possibly a stage ‘experience’, perhaps, given its spatial sound effects (something of a sonic installation), or perhaps a Classic FM–style compilation of arias loosely strung together by the idea of Maria Callas, both the woman and the roles associated with her. Whatever its intent, the effect is most decidedly that of aria compilation squeezed into an idea; the result is both a dramatic and a musical disappointment. True, there are moments of real pleasure, but those come from the arias themselves, taken (mostly) from roles Callas sang in the opera house (although she never sang Carmen in the theatre, and we get the ‘Habañera’).
Perhaps the placement in English National Opera’s performance schedule didn’t help. Just the previous night, the ENO orchestra was transformed into a world-beating ensemble by Richard Farnes for Truncated Traviata (review here), on their books right now. Only 24 hours later, under Israeli-American conductor Yoel Gamzou, the band sounded scrappy, sloppy, worn at the edges and frankly rather bored.
And who can blame them? Linking passages between arias were composed by Marko Nikodijević (b.1980), a succession of unimaginative clichés. The impact of spatial effects is, to put it mildly, limited, as is their ability to hold interest. Placing Nikodijević’s sounds next to some great music did him no favours, either.
Abramović remains on stage throughout the evening, mostly in bed to the side, immobile. Intimations of Traviata haunt the Prelude (and the use of a cor anglais seemed to hint, in a double whammy, at the third and final act of Tristan). As the evening proper begins, ‘Callas’ (Maria/Marina) describes herself as a candle raised to the sky’ (a candle in the wind?); the music wafts towards Verdi’s ‘Addio del passato’, as cruel an idea as possible given the previous evening’s performance. It was beyond doubt a luxury to hear Eri Nakamura in this role (and making her ENO debut), but the overall impression was blunted not only by the orchestra, but also by onscreen Warner Brothers clouds.
The Tosca excerpt was ‘Vissi d’arte’ against a film of a suicide from the side of a modern building. Elbenita Kajtazi was a convincing Tosca, musical and possessed of all the requisite power. But then offstage she goes, after just those few minutes – we wheel them on, we wheel them off again, with filler music justified by some token dissonances as runny cement gluing the arias together …or not!
Desdemona’s prayer (‘Ave Maria’) from Act IV of Otello next, and one of the greatest vocal talents around today, Nadine Benjamin. On screen, a man (played by Willam Dafoe) places a snake (a yellow boa) around Maria/Marina’s neck. Maria/Marina sits on a throne, but her face shows suffocation. Callas herself was spellbinding in this; but then again, so was Benjamin, every word perfectly intelligible and perfectly placed, her voice reflecting the import of Verdi’s reflection on death.
In the form of a butterfly when then got death to rebirth and Diva IV, Korean soprano Karah Son, who seems to have dedicated much of her activities in 2023 to the role of Cio-Cio San and was another singer making her ENO debut. The video shows us a post-apocalyptic scene of scientists in protective suits hunting for butterflies, with a Stars and Stripes flag in the picture, there also seems to be a play on the butterfly effect. This was a rather fast ‘Un bel dì’ and for all of Son’s power in her mid-high register, this was the least engaging of the arias, and her low register lacks substance.
Maria/Marina as bullfighter next, with ‘Callas’ making a man dance at knife point – she dies, accidentally stabbed by the man, and falls to her death. Luxury casting for this one: Aigul Akhmetshina, absolutely owning ‘L’amour est un oiseau rebelle’. This was the finest performance of the evening, Akhmetshina’s voice full yet fully flexible.
Sarah Tynan excelled in the Donizetti Lucia excerpt (‘Il dolce suono’ and ‘Ardon gli incensi’. Broken mirrors and vases proliferate onscreen: ‘When you go crazy, you’re no longer responsible for yourself or those around you,’ says the voiceover. ‘Love turns to hate, hate becomes love, and death becomes the ultimate liberation’. The bride, a teary mess, is shown with blood smeared on her face and matrimonial garb. Good that this is a fairly extended excerpt, at last on a musical level, and Tynan offered an amazing sound, although there seemed an unexpected loss of power at one point., Finally, ‘Casta diva’ from Bellini’s Norma, one of Callas’s most famous roles, sing beautifully by Sophie Bevan.
The Epilogue returns us to Callas’s bedroom, where she wakes (seemingly commanded to do so by the voiceover), smashes a vase (as in the film) and leaves. Maids (the divas) clean the room. The curtain falls, and Maria/Marina appears to the strains of Callas’s own recording of ‘Casta diva’ (with some additions).
A lovely set of vocal performances, then, held within a concept of limited appeal and underpinned by an orchestra on less than top form. While I am glad to have seen this event, I doubt I will be returning for second helpings.
Colin Clarke
Seven good singers wasted in a piece of self-indulgent vanity.