Like nothing else I’ve experienced

Yesterday dad took off with Heavy Lifter and his buddies to the farm for deer hunting (and before you get all worried, no, dad hasn’t really hunted in several years now). Within an hour of him leaving I had started to develop the symptoms of a cold, which is turning into a pattern (the stress disappears, my body relaxes, the germs start winning), but I had plans and I wasn’t having them thwarted. So yesterday I saw Last Christmas (I’m pleading the Fifth on this one) and Knives Out, in an “early access” screening (one of the best films I’ve seen this year, but the screening was marred by a fellow spectator who couldn’t stay off his phone).

And today I had a ticket for the Met Live in HD production of Philip Glass’ Akhnaten (premiered this season).

I know, I know. Philip Glass, who never had an interesting or moving musical idea he didn’t repeat thirty or forty times back to back. As one of the singers mentioned during an intermission, he has to sing the name of Amun 34 times in a row in the second act, and it’s easy to get lost. I guess if you’re an opera singer, you have to like whatever you’re singing that night, but for me, although Glass was covered in the second half of the history of music survey I had to take in college, meh. I didn’t become a fan.

However, it’s an easy way to broaden my horizons, and get some serious, elevated culture into my soul. I’m familiar with the Akhenaten narrative, as it’s one of the episodes of Egyptian history I cover in World Civ I. I’ve taught the Hymn to the Sun attributed to him at least half a dozen times. The reviews of this production have been rave — calling it possibly the strongest new entry of this Met season. There was an interesting preview of the production in one of the earlier transmissions I saw this season (either Turandot or Manon — I don’t remember which), which noted its rhythmic elements and showed how it would be paired with juggling. That preview was really what got me to buy the ticket.

But, coincidentally, it’s also a way of connecting with the crush.

 

I was lucky enough to see Max Richter in New York. Like Philip Glass his music touches the soul like nothing I’ve experienced. It IS peace.

— Richard Armitage (@RCArmitage) August 20, 2019

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I got there early and settled into my seat — this cinema has very comfy reclining chairs, and I got my favorite one as I had booked early. And then: uch. As the transmission started, the same group of viewers settled in next to me who completely ruined my visit to Dialogues des Carmelites last spring: they arrive after the lights go out so they have to talk their way up the stairs during the overture, they talk obnoxiously all the way through the transmission, and one of them doesn’t want to be there and reminds everyone around him repeatedly. In the spring I’d gotten my ticket refunded after asking them to be quiet multiple times (I guess they just can’t), but this time, there were free seats in the cinema, so I moved all the way down to the front row (not my usual choice) where I could be alone for some silence while watching. The view turned out to be fine, so I may do this again if I run into problems.

This is the basic story: After the funeral of his father, Akhnaten is crowned Pharaoh. He institutes the worship of one deity in place of traditional polytheism: Aten (Ra), the sun god. After expelling those who disagree, he builds a city. Next, he sings of his love for his wife, Nefertiti, and then he sings his Hymn to the Sun (the climax of the production). Afterwards, as his reign proves incompetent and he and his family seem oblivious, he is attacked and removed by his opponents. His death leads to his funeral and mummification, the coronation of his successor, and his own gradual transition into the dusty, inattentive remnants of historical memory. In an epilogue, his ghost appears with that of his wife and mother to sing in mournful wordlessness.

 

J’Nai Bridges, Anthony Roth Costanzo, and Dísella Lárusdóttir in the epilogue.

Perhaps one should add that there are practically no subtitles for most of the text (in ancient languages), but as in many Glass works, much of the singing involves humming, “ah” sounds, and percussive noises. And there’s a narrator (the spirit of Akhnaten’s father, Amenhotep IV) who tells the story anyway.

So far, so good. On the plus side, the costumes are the bomb, a melange of hieroglyphic and steampunk. The juggling was interesting and (I thought) meaningful in the context of the production. And I thought up to the first intermission that the production was actually succeeding in being hypnotic as opposed to repetitive. However, I apparently missed the startling frontal nudity at Akhnaten’s entrance. by the second act, hypnotic had turned into stifling and I was having a hard time keeping my head up straight. I think the stress relief, fatigue from the cold, and the comfy chair in the warm room caught up with me and the sort of monotonous music was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I did think the staging of the love duet between Aknaten and Nefertiti was beautiful, but I dozed off for something like twenty minutes and completely missed the Hymn to Aten, which is widely considered the most worthwhile musical moment of the piece.

The Hymn to the Sun. I didn’t actually see this part.

Maybe that’s a feature of musical minimalism? The climax is actually inverts into an anti-climax? Instead of getting us increasingly involved in the story, it touches our souls but putting us to sleep? This is anyway NOT part of my Richard Armitage fantasy life. I definitely DO NOT go on opera dates with him in my fantasies where I end up falling asleep during serious musical works!

To be honest I can’t listen to Max Richter, either. So I guess my chamber music concert fantasies — which were originally more centered on composers like Dvorak — may need revision of some kind.

I was awake for the final act, although I laughed inwardly at the end. The camera follows the singers off stage after the current call and the last glimpse is a dresser coming up to Anthony Roth Constanzo, who plays Akhnaten, to remove his heavy overrobe. When he gets it off, he skips through the backstage area in a hoopskirt, shouting “I’m free!” I could identify.

In the end, the cultural day picked up. I left and went to my favorite Vietnamese hole-in-the-wall for pho / that chicken soup. I came home and put on TCM, which was running an excellent film I’d missed the first time around. As I write these lines, the beginning of Crossing Delancey is playing (I wrote about it here). Amy Irving — I love the way she dresses in this film. I’ve got a bottle of Three Philosophers to open.

So can I change “Wine does more than Milton can …” to “Beer does more than Philip Glass can”?

~ by Servetus on November 24, 2019.