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Don Carlos of Duesseldorf, symbolism and naturalism in a transcendental mozaic [ Author Catalina Guia ] [ From category THE Articles ] [ Article date: 2016-02-19 ] [ From city Dusseldorf ] [ Country Germania ]   Nowadays being used to modern transfiguration of classical operas each decision to watch a performance on the world`s scenes is a challenge of sublime or grotesque. Maybe common sense or tabus impedes a similar intervention in the melodic lines, yet. My curiosity dared my strengths to experience Don Carlos at the Oper am Rhein from Düsseldorf. I promised to a friend, I promised to my soul that needed an infusion of classic in this redundancy of a cosmetised and loud world. The hall is full, not even one chair left unoccupied. It`s a premiere and perhaps the seek of a red carpet feeling brought such an audience. One vibration, one sound and the curtain is lifted revealing a puzzle of rhombus on several walls, cut in symmetry on various planes, thin or wide. In the obscure of the hall the facets shine in a play with shadows. Following them with the eyes you go up and up till you get that the fake wall is as a second curtain that slides into the ceiling. Again the pyramidal bas-relief in three dimensional knitting. Yet some characters appear with straight lines of cleric outfits:hooded scapulars, cucuruchos or maybe even coroza, the punitive capes of the condemned during the Spanish inquisition. A ritual or a procession is obvious anyhow. In the middle of the scene, a bed with same imprinted baldachin hosts purple sheets. It`s the anxiety within the soul of Don Carlos that succeeds the integration in the hypnotic game from the back and foreground. A tenor voice vibrates with modulation brought to life by the pain of an impossible love between him and his “ mother". The oedipian complex in a realm of emotions, a flood of energy. The presence of Rodrigo warms the impression with a deeper voice. Once with the dialogue synchronizes a dance of panels: one down to cover the initial scene arrangement, other up to make room for new patterns. The drums beat higher, low notes collapse into a new scene through transparency of one of the walls. Tension and hope, desire and passion. Emotions break free in the name of freedom. Second scene opens with the group of courtesains judging first by the clothes but they are the queen`s ladies. More colors, lighter, brighter and the women`s` grace are to sweeten the historic sobriety of the Spanish court. Though, the wardrobe keeper and the director kept most the fashion authentic lines. One more note to fill in the specter of senses: the deepness of a mezzo-soprano voice. The Princess of Eboli sings the Veil song. It supposed to inspire joy, delight and it even captivates and impresses with its accuracy and melodic modulation. Lust can be contrasting. The joy and irony is interrupted by the sober silhouette of the Queen Elisabeth. Love sacred, love profane mirror on the left and the right of the set with Eboli and “ die Königin". Two powerful voices, one to allure you and one to heal you. The Soprano notes penetrate the hall with crystal reverberations. Steps you don`t hear, colors that vanish slowly while keeping the attention on the main characters. The king Phillip appears. Visual symmetry dominates the whole wire of the story. The long dialogue between the King and Rodrigo, the Marquis of Posa leads you to details up to the filigree that covers the Spanish inspiration clothes. All ends in dark after a long strange kiss. I wander if Verdi ever saw that coming. Second act here. One of the transparent panels allows the back scene. The bed becomes an obsession, a leitmotiv. Within the arrangement, walls slide, doors reveals, and pillars cut niche. Three powerful and impeccable voices. Opera is theater veiled in music, an art with an impregnable spirit. The front scene levitates up to reveal a back arrangement with thrones and the leitmotiv we know. Silhouettes, the Inquisition observe from the back. The orange light dominates, however the courts` gentlemen and ladies presence with pastels falls in the golden line, a basic rule in paintings. It is the coronation scene and triumphal music guides the voices of Elisabeth, the regent Fillipo and the Court. There is no need for sumptuous design to depict the masterly cliché of the life at the Spanish court. A suggestion of baroque and rococo with all the agglomeration and redundancy. All interrupted by the buffoonery of Don Carlos and his “rabbits" or more simple, men in modern black suits with hats with rabbit ears. Is he creator of divergence or just a lunatic that ends up holding a revolver, a symbol of revolution, against his father`s head? One special effect must be mentioned. The burning of the Flemish envoys is simplified with their placement into a rectangular tube build by walls with the known triangular pattern. Lights are projected within to force the transparency of the panels and fire is virtually projected on them while torches are brought with real fire. The scene is ended this way. Act three already opens in applause and so does the curtain. Bronze walls with hypnotic base-relief are unveiled, however the effects of the shot fades slowly away, it blurs as in a Lumiere painting. One cape on the throne, a splited bed and a silhouette to bring a letter. The white paper spreads light and “burns" stronger in the room. The Escorial sleeps, but not the torment of an unshared love of the King. The aria is strongly applauded. Music breaks down and fights back authoritarian and dark to make room for the great inquisitor, a base voice, deeper than the King`s one. Intimacy is created between the two powers and the “Public - us" as one panel falls down. One power against the other, one tyranny competes the other but the intimacy is interrupted by the priests and we are back into the open space. Tension rise. Don Carlos sees, hears nothing but feels all inside the tubular prison. He is a ghost there. The courtesan, the regents gravitate around him. “Amore sacro, amor profano" comes again forward as the Queen on the right side remains attached to the throne and to her commitment to the King and Eboli, on the left side of the scene, kneels. Now it is the moment of truth, a betrayed loyalty and a breathtaking interpretation. Now it is the moment of switch to exile for Eboli and condemning for Don Carlos. Opening moment relocated. Rodrigo appears as the scene focus narrow under one projector. Torch and shadows approach the core and the melodicity is abducted by the exaggerated sharp sound of the revolver. It takes a life, luckily only on the set. The epicenter opens and explodes. The reflux brings the whole Spanish court staff and the Inquisitor on the front. Though, the breakdown of a revolution is suppressed. Last scene is the first to be flooded by a cold light. Violet is for the fading stars, grey is the back scene and the gravestone. Crystal in Elisabeth`s voice and the lovers` melody augments a fight of life in the auspice of death. No more complicated details on the costume, but simplicity. The nuptial bed is subrogated to the cold ground and stone. Their love is encroached upon by the regent and the Great Inquisitor and rage kills Don Carlos. Trapped inside the pillar only the voice of Charles V tames and submits the climax. All falls down: the iron curtain, the music and the applause while the chairs are emptied by the public with ovations. “Bravo" is international. An Italian opera played on a German scene with an overwhelming international distribution. Epilogue The opera is an oedipian philosophical complex, romanticism on Schiller`s realism. Arias and dialogues are well supported by the orchestra. The background and the bed are leitmotivs and added to many other symbols extracted from the historic facts and context. Costumes, opposite to the century customs echoes in a merry and elegant chromatic specter are the strive for freedom and love that gently dominates the plot through the armor of the harsh and prejudiced times. All is an enormous cube that traps destinies. But it is in the eye of the observer. Could also be the Pandora Box that timely entrapped “Hope", “ein Goldener Traum von Frieden im Tod". The tones are constant, the whole background is consequent, a continuous and rhythm is the whole adaptation. A symphony of warm colors, the symbol of power, maybe the purple of empires is embed in red Titian and bronze specter. I could not blink. The only REM was to swing between the set and the temptation of the German subtitle up, above the scene. An overloaded realm of senses to charge a seeking soul and reverberating voices to stick on the “Ipod" of thirsty taster of the genre.

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