Is La Damnation de Faust an opera, an oratorio, a dramatic legend, or a symphony for four soloists, chorus and children’s choir? Berlioz himself intended the work for the concert hall, famously calling it a “an opera without décor or costumes.” That is precisely how it was presented at the Royal Albert Hall BBC Proms concert the other night.. However, with an imaginative director at the helm – such as Terry Gilliam, whose Monty Pythonesque production I saw at the Flemish Opera 14 years ago – it can also work brilliantly as a fully staged performance.
During the 19th century writers and composers became deeply fascinated by the legend of Doctor Faustus, kicking off an obsession that has never truly let up – extending today to filmmakers, comic book writers and video game developers, as well as many other cultural fields. Beethoven, Schubert and Wagner composed songs about the Doctor’s pact with the devil and his love for Gretchen. Liszt’s choral Faust Symphony and Mephisto Waltzes remain concert staples. While Spohr’s Faust opera is now a rarity, both Boito and Gounod’s takes on the legend are staged fairly regularly. But why did the Faust legend hold such a powerful resonance in the Romantic era?
The historical Johann Georg Faust (1480) was a German alchemist, astrologer and practitioner of magic. Even during his lifetime, he was accused of being a blasphemer and a fraudster. A few decades after his death his dubious exploits became the subject of an anonymous chapbook, Historia von D.Johann Fausten (1587) and was reprinted extensively. Christopher Marlowe based his very popular play The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus (1604) on these German tales. Over the next two centuries the story provided material for the popular puppet theaters, often accompanied by music.
These early Faust dramatisations all stuck to the original theological framework, focusing firmly on Faust’s active rejection of God, and his repeated refusal to repent, which inevitably led to his eternal doom.
Goethe, however, approached Faust from a radically different angle, transforming him into an Enlightenment figure. To Goethe the black magic, alchemy and even the traditional religious aspects were secondary. Faust’s damnation for all eternity was certainly an inconvenience, an existential hurdle. But the Faust he presented in Part One (1808) is a man very recognisable to us; a man experiencing an existential crisis, desperate to find the true meaning of life.
“I’ve mastered, and sweated through Theology’s dead deserts, too, Yet here, poor fool! for all my lore, I stand no wiser than before.”
Goethe’s Faust reflected the 19th century’s deep anxiety over the dawning of a new age – an era marked by radical scientific inventions and theories, quicker means of transportation, and automated machinery that made a lot of manual labour superfluous. It was an unease not unlike what many feel today in the face of the seemingly unstoppable progress of artificial intelligence.
REVIEW AND SYNOPSIS
All around on the plains of Hungary, nature awakens to bird song, the rustling of foliage and the sound of flowing water. Faust longs to enjoy the solitude but in the distance local peasants are celebrating the arrival of spring. Begrudging their cheerfulness, Faust moves away – only to be met by soldiers marching off to battle. He admires their courage, but their thirst for glory leaves him cold.
Berlioz made an adaptation of a Hungarian folk song and turned it into the rousing Rákóczi March which he premiered and conducted during a concert series in Budapest. The audience response was so overwhelming that Berlioz incorporated the piece directly into his Faust drama. To this day Berlioz’s arrangement is heard at the Hungarian army’s parades and celebrations. Conductor Jakob Lehmann, however, has little time for rigid military fanfare; under his baton Les Siecles transform the march into a vivacious dance-like celebration. And whose to say Hungarian troops can’t dance?
The American tenor John Osborn captures Faust’s sense of alienation with appropriate nuance. As he wanders the plain, this Faustus remains subdued and melancholic. Could he be related to Harold in Italy?
In Part II Faust returns to his study in North Germany. Still trapped in his old ennui, he remains unable to find fulfillment, and his thirst for knowledge has led nowhere. He is about to drink from a poisoned chalice to end it all when he is interrupted by church bells and voices singing the Easter canticle Christ is Risen. The heavenly hymn reminds him of his childhood, and while he is moved to tears he realises that “heaven has won me back.” There continues to be a sense of restraint in Osborn’s voice, as he avoids overplaying the sentimentality.
Berlioz himself was not particularly religious – declaring “My religion is Beethoven,Weber, Gluck, and Spontini “ – but he was exceptionally adept at using Catholic rituals in many of his compositions. His Requiem (Grande Messe des Morts) is a magnificent example, though it is un suitable for a church service With its innovative orchestral writing and the massive ensemble required it feels much more like a colossal symphony with voices, that just happen to sing a liturgical text.
Suddenly Méphistophélès appears and he needs barely a couple of minutes of persuasion before Faust is ready to follow him anywhere.
They’re off to visit Auerbach’s Tavern in Leipzig – a popular tourist destination to this day! In the old days, only wine was served in this ‘Keller’ where Luther (who is refernced in the Song of the Rat) Goethe and perhaps even Bach were regular patrons.
Together Mephisto and Faust listen to the drunken banter of the tavern’s student revellers. Brander (Thomas Dolié) entertains the crowd with Certain Rat, dans une cuisine, a song about a poisoned rat whose death throes make it act as if possessed by love. The strings mimic the rat’s frantic agony, while Brander must deliver the tune at a fairly brisk tempo with crisp diction– all without resorting to half-spoken declamation. Dolié, a native French speaker, handled the tricky vocal challenge fairly comfortably.
The tortured rat is then honoured by the students with a sarcastic Requiescet in pace (Rest in peace), which leads into an appropriately academic, yet straigt-faced delivered blasphemous fugue.
SORRY, too tired. Will have to come back to this tomorrow.
