The Mahagonny of My Dreams . . . or Nightmares

 

I finally was able to watch Ivo van Hove’s remarkable production of Weill’s The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny from last year’s Aix Festival.  The fact that I watched it twice, staying up until 4:30 this morning to do so, gives some indication of what I thought, and will, eventually shed some light on its effect on me. 

 

I’ve always felt the work, despite being lauded by connoisseurs and scholars, gets short shrift by most companies and it is not a show guaranteed to sell out a run.  On that front, I remember when the Met premiered it in the late 70’s and telecast it live. I was away at school, and begged my father to record it for me on the old Sony Betamax.  He obliged, and when gave me the tape said, “I tried to watch it, I don’t know what the hell it is – but here it is.”  It’s grown in popularity over the ensuing decades – but probably not by much for some.

 

van Hove eschews standard sets and scenery instead employing a wide, open film studio's sound stage, an enormous video screen and an even bigger “green screen” to create brilliant images.  Additionally, there are camera men darting about capturing zoom-in close ups of the faces and features of the cast, creating an experience that feels part graphic novel – part midnight movie.  The resulting effect is ever at the service of Brecht’s libretto and Weil’s sui generis score.  All of this was served up by a cast I simply cannot imagine being bettered today – or possibly ever, along with Esa-Pekka Salonen leading the Philharmonia, the Aix chorus and the tremendous ensemble, Pygmalion, as the men of Mahagonny.

There are so many characters in Mahagonny, I’m going to stick to the central ones here.  First off, there has never been a Widow Begbick to quite match what Karita Mattila brought to this vulture-like criminal – not in my experience, anyway.  Gorgeously terrifying she recalled the aged film beauty, Jean Morreau with a touch of Mamie van Doren, Jane Mansfield and a scary bit of Baby Jane.  She was marvelous and monstrous and daring.  At one point when Jimmy thrusts a wad of cash into her hand she jams it into her lady parts, twisting her hand and .  .  . well, you know what she means here in no uncertain terms. 

 

At 74 years old in this production, Willard White is nothing but incredible, the voice sounding, if possible, better than it has in years, and a newish “gym body” that is age defying.  His Trinity Moses is as vibrant and cold blooded as one could wish for.

 

Interesting, too, it was seeing and hearing Alan Oke in so different a role as Fatty, adding his own tang to the horrible trio of Mahagonny’s founding fathers and mother. 

 

Annette Dasch was a lovely Jenny, playing the role with less spit and more polish than we’re used to (or than I’m used to) which made her feel more of a victim than usual, and given her “family background,” gave another layer of depth to the whore. 

Sean Panikkar, Thomas Allemans, and Peixin Chen gave Jimmy’s lumberjack buddies equal measures comedy and earnestness of friendship, with Panikkar, making an especially appealing Jack (his death by gluttony both humorous and moving). 

At the center of all of this is the transformational performance of Nikolai Schukoff as Jimmy Mahoney.  Schukoff is one of those actors who demands your attention, not by calling attention to himself, but by forging himself into a character with such depth and myriad nuances that one can’t help but wonder what comes next – which in an opera you know well, is something significant.  In his Jimmy there is hubris, bravado, boredom, fear, rage, hopelessness and ultimately an ineffable sadness that breaks the heart.  That he is capable of this while singing so beautifully – words and music coalescing into a unified whole, makes this Jimmy, easily the best I’ve seen or heard. His "melt down" and longing for home, segues into a bit of brilliant threatened violence, followed by the hurricane where, as everyone else runs seeking shelter, he stands at its center, spinning - almost dancing - gloriously seeing the ravages of Mother Nature as some sort of saviour.  It is chilling.  It is brilliant. 

van Hove’s staging throughout is a miracle of vision, but the entire hurricane scene ending of the first act, and Jimmy’s execution and the mad destruction of the city at the end of the second must be seen to be believed. 

The production is still available to watch on YouTube, and, if the powers-that-be had any sense it would be released onto DVD and BluRay.  I wouldn’t hold my breath though.  In any regard, this Mahagonny should not be missed.