In Düsseldorf, The Flying Dutchman offers a new perspective on Senta’s obsession

GermanyGermany Wagner, Der fliegende Holländer: Soloists, Chorus and Extras of Deutsche Oper am Rhein / Harry Ogg (conductor). Deutsche Oper am Rhein, Düsseldorf, 26.1.2024. (DM-D)

Deutsche Oper am Rhein’s Der fliegende Holländer (2022) © Sandra Then

Production:
Director – Vasily Barkhatov
Sets – Zinovy Margolin
Costumes – Olga Shaishmelashvili
Lighting / Video –Alexander Sivaev
Computer Animated design (Film) – Alexander Sokolov
Chorus director – Francis Chesnut
Dramaturgy – Dorian Dreher

Cast:
Daland – Hans-Peter König
Steersman – Andrés Sulbarán
The Dutchman – James Rutherford
Mary – Katarzyna Kunico
Senta – Gabriela Scherer
Erik – Jussi Myllys

This production was premiered in the Duisburg venue of Deutsche Oper am Rhein and came out at the Düsseldorf venue earlier in January this year. When the audience took their seats the curtain was already open, revealing the inside of a cinema auditorium from the perspective of the screen, with a see-through screen a little beyond the ramp. The cinema auditorium was painted dark blue, there were several rows of chairs, and the usual lit emergency exit signs above the doors. On the rear wall was a section through which one could see the light from the projector. Fifteen minutes before curtain-up, an attendant came in to the ‘cinema’ from the entrance on the left of the stage, did some tidying up, checked the seats, and an ‘audience’ came in wearing contemporary clothes five minutes before the beginning. Among them was, we later realised, the Daland family, father, mother (Mary) and daughter Senta, a young girl with red hair.

With the beginning of the overture, images were projected onto the screen: the film showing was Der fliegende Holländer, with impressive images of scenic highlights from the film. The events in the cinema space were visible for some of the time. At other times, the film projection hid the cinema auditorium in darkness. When it became visible again, different spectators were there, but the Daland family, at least Mary and definitely Senta, were always there. This suggested that Senta saw the film numerous times, over many years, because at some point in this imaginative fast-forward mode, an older performer represented Senta. Mary was seen, over the course of time, with different partners, sometimes snogging, sometimes just giving Senta the money for another viewing of the film while she disappeared with a (different) lover. The scene inside the cinema merged with scenes from the film, with the rows of chairs becoming the inside of the ship, lifting and lowering to accompany the Sailor’s Chorus to suggest the ship being carried by the waves and supported by projections of waves and sea spray onto the cinema screen. The sailors dumped some of their deceased mates, wrapped in sail cloth, into the sea.

Senta was thus shown to have become infatuated with the tale of the Flying Dutchman – so much so that at some point, years later, Daland, now divorced from Mary, sent a message (shown on the screen) to the esteemed actor playing the Dutchman in the film, asking him to be present at an event in which the story of the Flying Dutchman would be re-enacted with the red-haired film spectator, Senta, as the Dutchman’s bride, so as to serve as shock therapy to cure her of her obsession. The indoor arcade of which the cinema was part, complete with merry-go-round, Döner stand, coffee shop, and electric toy gripper vending machine (from which Senta managed to get a teddy bear which she gave to Erik to take care of instead of herself), became the scene for the onshore events, with older and younger women, including young mothers, swiping away at their mobile phones for the Spinning Chorus. Daland’s sailors, and those of the Dutchman, were followers of two different football teams, who watched the match on large screens. Erik was a security man at the arcade, drafted into playing Erik from the Flying Dutchman for Senta’s cure. However, even the shock of the esteemed actor revealing his true identity at the end did not ‘save’ Senta. She would continue being faithful to her (false) dream, watching the film or at least remaining firmly within the film world, until her death.

Deutsche Oper am Rhein’s Der fliegende Holländer (2022) © Sandra Then

Much of this plot line was so consistent within itself, and so well executed in terms of set, costume and acting – and consequently so entertaining – that it succeeded in taking the inconsistency with some of the libretto in its stride. However, since every chorus member in the arcade scene had an elaborate and colourful story of their own, at times the teeming movement and action surrounding the main characters became relentless, and too much to take in.

Veteran bass Hans-Peter König was in excellent voice, moulding and shaping Daland’s music with sonority and ease. Katarzyna Kunico was mellifluous as Mary, Andrés Sulbarán fresh and cheerful as the Steersman. Jussi Myllys successfully focused on the beautiful, lyrical nature of Erik’s music. James Rutherford sang the Dutchman with a voice that matched the character he had to play: an esteemed actor playing his signature role in unusual circumstances, for the benefit of the mental health of a fan – and not entirely convinced by this ploy. Just as an actor would use his speaking voice to achieve an impact, the actor-singer playing the Dutchman used his singing voice intentionally and obviously to create an effect (on Senta, the fan).

Gabriela Scherer as Senta was central to the interpretation. She clearly relished acting the part and was very convincing as the contemporary woman caught forever in what was in effect a nightmare of her obsession. Her singing matched the excellence of her acting. In an interview on the company’s website, she emphasised how important it was to make sure she used her voice in such a way that it was fresh enough at the end for her final outbursts. This performance proved she succeeded in doing just that. Her voice was velvety and golden, burnished, without unnecessary edges, making her singing emphatically haunting when necessary, and incredibly moving.

The chorus, directed by Patrick Francis Chestnut, acted and sang with gusto. Harry Ogg conducted the score with verve and energy, allowing more playful aspects of the music to come to the fore where the plot twists conjured up by Vasily Barkhatov’s production made this relevant, thus complementing this engaging and successful production and performance.

Daniel Meyer-Dinkgräfe

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