Hans Werne Henze L'Upupa und der Triumph der Sohnesliebe

World Première at the 2003 Salzburg Festival

EuroArts Ref 2053929

Matthias Goerne, Laura Aikin, John Mark Ainsley, Alfred Muff, Hanna Schwarz
Vienna Philharmonic cond Markus Stenz

The Hoopoe and the Triumph of Filial Love is expected to be Hans Werner Henze's last work for the stage and is the sort of jewelled miniature that could only come from the pen of a composer fully assured in his mastery of the art of writing for the stage. The dreamlike tale unfolds in eleven tableaux, with punctuating orchestral passages. The libretto was prepared by Henze himself with reference to both Arabic and western sources. I do not have enough German to follow the dialogue, but the English sub-titles suggest that the text does have that humorous off-beat quality of a dream where the normal rules of logic do not quite apply.

As the curtain rise we see the permanent set with the floor of the stage enclosed under an oriental dome - the dream world. Above it there is a small tower where an Old Man sits watching out for his favourite bird, a hoopoe, which has taken fright after he tried to touch it. He asks his sons to search for the bird, but two of them settle down to a game of cards leaving the third, Al Kasim, to set out alone. Along the way he encounters the Demon, a gentle rather shabby fallen angel who accompanies him on his quest. At each stage of the journey a fresh challenge awaits them. After entering a secret garden and finding the bird, Al Kasim falls in love with the imprisoned heroine Badi'at. In exchange for her release he is sent in pursuit of a magic chest, with the vital caveat that they must remember the passwords to both open and close the chest. Having found it Al Kasim says farewell to the demon and returns with the Hoopoe, Badi'at and the chest. The brothers hastily reappear, throw Al Kasim and Badi'at down a well, and claim the success for themselves. After a touching duet in the well, the lovers are rescued by the Demon. Meanwhile in ballet sequence, the brothers have broken open the chest, which proves to contain magic warriors that attack them, and Al Kasim, Badi'at and the Demon arrive just in time to supply the password to shut the warriors back in their box. The brothers are banished and love triumphs, though once again Al Kasim sets off to fulfil his promise to find an apple from the tree of life for the Demon and restore him to grace. In the final orchestral scene Badi'at and the Old Man stroll quietly off together into the twilight to await Al Kasim's eventual return.

Whilst Henze's score can quite clearly be classified as "new music" there are no aggressive dissonances and the work has a beguiling lyricism. Perhaps there is something distinctive about last operas which "L'Upupa shares. Henze acknowledges that he was influenced by Mozart and The Magic Flute (and includes a direct quotation from Schikaneder in his text), and it is easy to see similarities to Le Coq d'Or (Rimsky Korsakov's final opera). I also found my thoughts turning to Verdi's last masterpiece, Falstaff - there is something of the same economy and lightness of touch, no need for big arias or set pieces, that can only come after a lifetime of operatic writing.

The most fully drawn of the characters is Al Kasim, ably sung by the great German Tenor Matthias Goerne, for whom the part was written. The composer apparently had Ian Bostridge in mind for the Demon, but John Mark Ainsley was the eventual choice for this role, who combines the necessary vocal range with a nice ly judges air of benevolent mystery. Laura Aikin makes a vulnerable but plucky damsel-in-distress, Alfred Muff gives a robust performance as the Old Man and Hanna Schwarz makes a delightful short appearance in the magic garden scene.

Markus Stenz conducts the Vienna Philharmonic with commitment. Dieter Dom's stage direction is witty and imaginative and Jürgen Rose's colourful sets and costumes add to the fairy tale quality. The TV/DVD recording, directed by Brian Large, is particularly successful as virtually all the confined action can be accommodated within the screen frame in sufficient close-up to reveal details of expression.

Serena Fenwick