Napfogyatkozás (Sonnenfinsternis) takes its title from the novel by Arthur Koestler. Published in English as Darkness at Noon, the original German manuscript is lost and versions in German are actually back translations from the English. It may never have been called Solar Eclipse. It’s the second of a trilogy of novels written in three different languages (The Gladiators is in Hungarian and Arrival and Departure in English).
All three novels, in their way, deal with betrayal and disaffection yet they come from the pen of a man who would be embraced and lionized in the west, an ex-communist who would become one of communism’s most vehement opponents. The novel deals with the show trial and execution of a disaffected revolutionary under a Stalinist dictatorship. Although it appeared in 1940, it can be seen as an allegory for much that has happened since. Irony is layered on paradox, in the book and in its genesis.
József Sári has taken the book’s title for his opera but the connection is tenuous. There is a parallel with the trial of Rubashov in the interrogation of Katz early in part two, but otherwise it concerns itself with Koestler himself taking events from his life as staging posts in what amounts to a compressed biography. Clearly, Sári is looking for a thread which runs through Koestler’s life and work – a kind of philosophical voyage of self-discovery. What the press release for this production describes as “Koestler . . . an indefatigable searcher after the mystery whose name is man” is precisely the problem. Koestler wanders in many different directions which embrace subjects as diverse as politics, sexuality, religion, parapsychology, mysticism, capital punishment, euthanasia and even drug experimentation. He is not a searcher after truth but a journeyman changing horses in pursuit of a multitude of truths. Bringing these disparate elements together into a satisfactory theatrical experience is a tall order, and librettist Elisabeth Gutjahr has achieved this by assembling several episodes into set pieces interspersed with text projected onto a front screen and, occasionally, directly onto the set. In this production, archive film footage is also used.
The production is absolutely superb. A simple and elegant series of three rectangular stone frames slide horizontally to create a perspective which is variable according to the configuration so that it is possible at some points to create a deep single perspective and, at others, to divide the performance areas into two halves. The front projection screen is painted to match the stonework so that, when lowered, the set takes on an almost cinema like simplicity. The libretto has been translated into Hungarian for this premiere by Lajos Csákovics. There is, however, a major problem for non-Hungariuan speakers. The piece is very text intensive. The subtitle function is used to indicate the scene locations so it is not available for translation, either back into the original German or into English, and it probably could not cope with so much text anyway. So non-Hungarian speakers should at least visit the website to get an idea of the events in advance or, better still, see if you can get hold of the press release, otherwise you will quickly become hopelessly lost.
As to the music, Sári is gifted with an original and striking voice made especially effective by his mastery of orchestration. The array of percussion instruments is impressive but unsurprising – this is, after all, music of the late 20th century. Much of it, especially in Part One, is abrasive with liberal use of glissandi. Short of having a score in front of you (not very practical in a darkened opera house), it is not easy to discern specific compositional techniques and it is not really the point anyway. Opera is supposed to work on a multitude of levels and as a fusion of several art forms. The music is only part of that. It is, nevertheless, impressive if you bring to it an open mind. The music shifts a gear in the second half, taking on a more lyrical character – effects such as an onstage piano solo apparently completely tonal, matched by keyboards in the pit playing abrasively dissident counterpoint or the moment when three soloists sing their political messages through megaphones are notable. For those who are open to the musical language of our time, this is an impressive score indeed, but for those who struggle with it, be prepared for a challenging experience.
The cast is a large one, and the standard was outstanding throughout, and the orchestra was again in impressive form.
Hungarian State Opera House/Operaház
1061 Budapest, Andrássy út 22.
Photos: Vera Éder