Leoš Janáček’s penultimate opera, The Makropulos Case returned to Brno, where it premiered in 1926, in Claus Guth’s 2022 production from Berlin’s Staatsoper Unter den Linden. This was the company’s first appearance at the bi-annual Janáček Brno Festival where it presented two performances (seen Nov. 18) of the opera based on Karel Čapek’s 1922 “comedy” dealing with the complex emotional baggage associated with immortality.
Aleš Briscein (Albert Gregor) in Staatsoper Berlin’s The Makropulos Case at Janáček Brno Festival. Photo: Marek Olbrzymek
Guth, along with set designer Étienne Plus and costume designer Ursula Kudrna, have chosen a “period” 1920s Art Deco setting that includes a troupe of dancers/movement artists who cater to opera singer Emilia Marty. From the start, we know this is no ordinary diva when we see Marty exhaustively creeping through an enormous, deep, brightly-lit room encased in white smoke. As the action progresses, it becomes clear that this ancient creature can only revive herself by taking on successive personas.
In Act 1, Marty is a smartly-coiffed 1920s fashion plate, in Act 2, a geisha (she has been “performing” Madama Butterfly) and in the final act, a more blowsy version of her first act persona. She returns to the white space at the start of each act to undergo her next transformation. The set then slowly shifts laterally to reveal a Kafkaesque office lined with filing cabinets; the wings of a theatre or finally, a hotel corridor. Throughout, the dancers affect all manner of absurd, acrobatic poses, frozen upside down, jammed into an elevator, or robotically undertaking mundane office tasks.
Scene from Berlin Staatsoper’s The Makropulos Case at Janáček Brno Festival. Photo: Marek Olbrzymek
The action can be a little overwhelming but overall, it suits the opera’s intrinsically off-putting narrative and Janáček’s fragmented score. In works like Jenůfa and Katya Kabanova with their more conventional story-telling, the composer allows himself more opportunities to display his own brand of lyricism. The Makropulos Case features an almost unending sequence of seemingly unrelated musical motifs closely tied to the text. The score’s sheer invention can be a lot to take in, and when layered with a staging complex as this one, the end result is slightly unmoored.
For example, while the idea of costuming Marty as Cio-Cio-San in Act 2 might seem amusing and clever at first, it ultimately distracts from the story-telling given the strong associations much of the audience might have for Puccini’s tragic character.
More successful is Guth’s addition of two other silent versions of Emilia Marty. A girl dressed in a Velázquez-inspired costume is a constant, haunting presence and a reference to the “young” Marty who imbibed a potion in 1575 thus starting her journey as an immortal. At the opposite end of the life cycle, an old woman periodically shuffles across the stage. Both figures effectively underline Emilia’s tragic status of whom Janáček himself lamented: “the rabble swore at her, they wanted to strangle her—and her crime? That she had to live for a long time. I felt sorry for her.”
Scene from Berlin Staatsoper’s The Makropulos Case at Janáček Brno Festival. Photo: Marek Olbrzymek
Guth’s staging premiered in Berlin in 2022. This iteration represents the recent October 2024 revival there, with a largely different cast and conductor from the premiere. German soprano Dorothea Rӧschmann sang Emila Marty who has assumed countless identities, all with the initials E.M., throughout her 350 year lifespan. What a remarkable career trajectory Rӧschmann has undergone from her early Mozart specialisation through to Isolde, Ariadne and Elisabeth (Tannhӓuser) today.
She amply filled out Janáček’s edgy, sometimes soaring, vocal lines and convincingly embodied Emilia’s cynicism and world weariness. It was a little surprising to see her relying so heavily on the conductor at this stage in the production’s run. This put up a wall between artist and character at times, making her perhaps more difficult to empathise with than the composer intended.
The rest of the ensemble cast was outstanding. Czech tenor Aleš Briscein as Emilia’s current paramour (and maybe…her great, great, great grandson?) Albert Gregor, impressed with his boyish, puppy dog demeanour and cleanly projected tone. Fellow Czech singer, bass-baritone Adam Plachetka, was luxury casting as Jarolslav Prus who complains of Emilia’s frigidity after she agrees to sleep with him in exchange for the potion formula that will ensure her continued immortality.
Scene from Berlin Staatsoper’s The Makropulos Case at Janáček Brno Festival. Photo: Marek Olbrzymek
Robert Jindra, music director for opera at Prague’s National Theatre, led Staatskapelle Berlin in the pit. Together, they brought out all of the spiky energy that constitutes the majority of the work. Then, in the final five minutes, switched gears to unfurl the heart-wrenching lyricism that is Emilia’s farewell to immortality, capped by its visual counterpart as she desperately reaches for the light offstage.
The Janáček Brno Festival’s programming continues in Brno, Czech Republic until Nov. 24.
