Valuska by Peter Eötvös is an adaptation of László Krasznahorkai's novel The Melancholy of Resistance. Written in 1989, it tells the story of a small town thrown into chaos by the arrival of a mysterious circus and its sole attraction, a giant whale, preserved in formaldehyde. The story explores themes of despair, societal decay and the struggle between order and chaos. Although Péter Eötvös composed it in his native Hungarian, commissioned by the Hungarian State Opera, neither the geographic location nor the nationality of its inhabitants is ever mentioned. It is this very aspect that makes the grotesque and absurd plot relevant to the world's current societal and political situations. It is the unbelievable that makes it so painfully believable.
In condensing the 500-page novel, characterised by its stream-of-consciousness writing style, for the opera stage, librettists Keszthelyi Kinga and Mezei Mari have maintained these elements while giving the central characters emotional depth and personality development: there is Valuska, the dreamy, idealistic protagonist, whom townspeople call the village idiot or simpleton – he is full of innocence and wants only to see good in the world around him; his mother, Mrs Pflaum, loves him but also rejects him because he cannot be normal; Tünde, the middle-aged opportunist who becomes mayor of this small town; her husband, the respected professor Werckmeister, is drawn into turmoil against his will but stands by Valuska in the end; the ringmaster promotes the stuffed whale; and a prince who incites the people to rebel against the status quo. Amongst all these, Valuska and the Professor are the most ‘normal’, espousing values that we would consider as good and honest.
Director Bence Varga brings to life this dystopian town, which could reflect any town, any society in any country, with chilling insight and detail. Botond Devich's sets are minimal but effective – a lamppost, the container where the whale is exhibited, a hospital bed – and are greatly supported by the Sandor Baumgartner's sinister lighting. Costume designer Kató Huszár makes the populace look grey and drab in comparison to the whimsical touches he gives to extrovert characters such as the newly elected Mayoress Tünde with her pink bouffant hairdo and an army officer covered in medals from top to bottom but acting like someone straight out of Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks.
Eötvös is renowned for his innovative and eclectic musical style. In Valuska, his first opera written in his native Hungarian, he blurs the boundaries between traditional and avant-garde music, creating a unique soundscape with complex rhythms, vivid textures and a keen sense of drama, which reflects his deep understanding of the theatricality of music. His knowledge of the capabilities of the human voice and its expressive possibilities create harmonies that, while thoroughly contemporary, are easy to listen to. His score drives the narrative forward, and adds a dimension of understanding to his characters, expressing their emotions better than words can. He achieves this with only a small string section surrounded by a symmetrical division of the brass and woodwinds, each split left and right. This adds a lively dimension to the acoustical perception. Kálmán Szennai conducted the excellent Hungarian State Opera Orchestra with a fine understanding of the composer’s intentions.
Valuska has a large cast headed by Zsolt Haja, whose clear and pure tenor gave his character poignancy and credibility. Adrienn Miksch imbued her warm soprano with just the right amount of doubt and anguish as his mother. The role of the Mayoress was a tour de force for Tünde Szabóki, who not only vocally but dramatically showed that single-minded determination is what is needed to reach a goal. Dark toned bass-baritone András Hábetler was her husband, the disillusioned and embittered professor who reluctantly gives his name to the law and order movement of “Happy Homes – Beautiful Gardens” pushed by his politically ambitious but estranged wife.
Although Eötvös calls his opera a commedia tragica and although there are surely moments that elicit laughter, it is laughter elicited by metaphors that portray situations that are far too easy to identify with in today’s socio-political fabric and context the world over: personal and political greed.
Zenaida's press trip to Budapest was funded by Hungarian State Opera
