Jocasta's Line: Oedipus and Antigone - Father and Daughter

While not part of the core operatic repertoire, Stravinsky's Opera/Oratorio Oedipus Rex is nonetheless relatively well known, frequently more the in the domain of concert halls than opera houses. Norwegian National Opera came up with a fascinating Theban Project (at least that's what I'm calling it) and commissioned Canadian composer Samy Moussa to compose a companion piece to the Stavinsky, on the story of his daughter, Antigone. The resulting work is collectively called Jocasta's Line, and personally, I think they've got a hit onhand.  Tying it all together into the best possible theatrical experience is the work of genius director and choreographer, Wayne McGregor. While we know dance was a fundamental element of ancient Greek theatre, we may never fully know just how, but McGregor's gives a shining example of how effectively they can be used today. 

The physical production, with sets and costumes by Vicki Mortimer, are unique to each tale with no design elements in either (sets or costumes) transferring from one to the next - or more precisely from father-to-daughter, despite the tragic elements of each.  Lucy Carter's lighting design deserves not just special mention, but some sort of grand  award: her work in both pieces is nothing less than extraordinary and the images she conjures before our eyes are  constantly amazing. Both of these women make Jocasta's Line fly. 

Oedipus is visually and theatrically striking, opening from the rear of the stage with the projected image of the mouth of The Narrator - here taken up by the always wonderful Ben Whishaw. As he sets up the troubled king's story, the set rotates into place: Stage Left are The Men, clad in intricately hand painted suits, as Oedipus motionless and stage center is on a sort of elaborate podium, covering his lower half. As the music starts, the chorus is bathed in blood red light, Oedipus - now surrounded by a contingency of male dancers moving slowly, as if through time and space itself. And we are off.  

As Oedipus Paul Appleby easily gives one of the finest performances I've seen or heard from him. In splendid voice, the tenor also is given a specific choreography - elaborate, ancient-looking hand and arm gesture.  Through this combination of music and movement Appleby takes an often static character and infuses him with humanity, conveying the tortured, damned monarch and, like the citizens of Thebes, breaks our hearts. At least mine was broken.  

While no longer quite commanding the vocal beauty that marked much of her career, Sarah Connolly's strength feels right for Jocasta, and she remains a powerful presence as the doomed queen. One might even say, she is mighty, so I will. I did feel it a somewhat odd (while not distracting) decision to replace her Jocasta with a double for the queen's entombment. .  

Stravinsky (and Sophocles) assign significant importance Creon, Tiresias, The Messenger, and The Shepherd, and while small roles, Michael Mofidian, Rafal Siwek, Jens-Erik Aasbe, and Magnus Staveland, were marvelous, their brief scenes punching up the tragedy and gloom perfectly.

Throughout Oedipus, McGregor's genius shines through constant yet subtle movement of the sets AND its inhabitants, along with images of The Narrator, all propelling Sophocles' drama into our laps. Or faces. While the movement is often subtle, the result is anything but. Truly, this production joins Julie Taymor's now legendary film with Jessye Norman and Philip Langridge, as a must see and hear experience. 

Antigone follows - at least in this presentation - immediately with no intermission. WIth no expectations I was eager to plunge right in (though desperately wanted to yell and cheer for the cast of Oedipus!).  

Other than subject matter, Neither director nor composer keep any visual theme from the previous work. Initially, I was put off because I FELT they should flow, but as she progressed I realized I'd lied to myself.  I DID have expectations: including Antigone to be cut from the same cloth as the Stravinsky. That was in no part Samy Moussa's fault, it was entirely mine.I eventually got out of my own way and let Antigone take its proper hold on me.

As Oedipus was sung in Latin and with a male chorus, Antigone is performed by a female chorus (no soloists) in Ancient Greek. (Note: I do wish the work had, like Stravinsky, a narrator to make what we're seeing and hearing a bit more clear - at least to me.) Moussa's score is frequently dazzling, making great use of groupings of his instruments - high, tightly coiled and spiraling strings, punchy brass, and so on. 

I can't personally know who influences a composer and, while he is definitely creating his own unique (and rather splendid) sound, I definitely felt touches of Debussy, Khatchatourian, Tobias Picker, but most of all, Thomas Adès.  Not bad company to keep (or not keep - whatever the case may be).  

Grete Sofie Borud Nybakken is Antigone and, while I am no dance critic, I felt her performance devastatingly beautiful in every way - powerful and ultimately wrenching. The contributing dancers portraying Creon, Antigone's brothers, and Ismene were at this same, frequently dazzling level. 

As oratorio, both works rely significantly upon the work of the chorus: - the men in Oedipus and the women in Antigone, ar, in fact, the very heart in this style of storytelling. In this regard, the chorus of The Norwegian National Opera and Ballet - and their leaders - Stephen Harris and  César Cañon -  deserve every accolade possible for work that is consistently remarkable. 

Pulling the myriad, disperate parts of this Theban puzzle together is  conductor Charlotte Politi, who does a masterful and magnificent job, reigning the orchestral and choral forces with fierce precision and energy. She gives each score into its own aural landscape, creating rich imagery of the mind. and ear.

It will be interesting to see if other companies will take up Jocasta's Line as a pairing for a grand night of music theatre and dance. I certainly hope so.