STOCKHOLM, Sweden – After a few more days in Norway, a short flight brought me to the Swedish capital, which, even in the snow – or perhaps because of it – was one of the most beautiful cities I've ever visited. After some sightseeing, I made my way to the Royal Opera House, just across the Norrström river from the Parliament and Royal Palace. Built in 1782 – and rebuilt a century later – it is one of the grandest opera houses in Europe, filled with neoclassical sculpture and gilded moldings. It also has a colorful history: it was at a masquerade ball here in 1792 that King Gustav III was shot by an assassin, providing the inspiration for Verdi's opera Un Ballo In Maschera.
In addition to the Royal Opera, the house is also home to the Royal Ballet of Sweden, founded in 1773 and one of the oldest ballet companies in the world. With the Royal Swedish Orchestra in the pit (founded 1526), I attended a performance of Julia & Romeo, a 2013 ballet in three acts by the veteran Swedish choreographer Mats Ek, set to music by Tchiakovsky.
Wait a minute, you're thinking: Tchiakovsky didn't write a ballet based on Romeo and Juliet, only a twenty minute "Fantasy Overture." Indeed: Ek, working with Anders Högstedt, assembled the score from a mélange of Tchiakovsky's orchestral music, including the Piano Concerto, the Fifth Symphony, the“Variations on a Rococo Theme" and the Italian Caprice, among others. As you might imagine from the composer of The Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty, and Swan Lake, the lyrical result made you question not so much the idea, but why someone hadn't thought of it before.
© Gert Weigelt
Those expecting an evening of classical Russian ballet, however, were likely disappointed: this was cold, modern dance, set on a bare stage – even the rigging was visible – with plain, minimal costumes. The only "set" to speak of were grey metallic modular walls which circled and crossed the stage, evoking a stark, urban landscape. The contrast with all the gold and marble overhead was striking, like staging Waiting for Godot in Versailles' Hall of Mirrors. (You can see more pics here.)
Among the soloists, Rena Narumi (Julia) conveyed youthful desperation while Anton Valdbauer (Romeo) danced with power and grace. Special props to Ana Laguna, the Spanish veteran dancer – and Ek's wife – who defied her age in the role of Julia's nurse, Amman. The Royal Orchestra, led by Finnish conductor Eva Ollikainen, wasn't as sharp as I was expecting from their long and rich history, but they were on par for what you usually get in a ballet orchestra. Ek came out for curtain calls, and received a wild – at least for Scandinavia – and prolonged ovation.
The next morning, I was back at the opera house for one of their twice-weekly lunchtime concerts in the Golden Hall, the opulent 2nd floor hall modeled after the gilded foyer in the Paris Opera's Palais Garnier. Along with 80 or so others, I enjoyed a delicious lunch of gravlax (salmon with dill) over salad and new potatoes (included in the ticket price) under crystal chandeliers. Boy, these Swedes sure know how to beat the winter.
In place of dessert, we were treated to an all-Wagner recital by musicians from the Royal Opera. Accompanied by pianist Inese Klotina, soprano Paulia Pfeiffer gave a tender performance of Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder, filling the room with her gleaming, penetrating voice. As if I needed any more potent reminder of the great tradition of Swedish opera, from where I sat, I could look past Pfeiffer to the marble bust of Jenny Lind ("The Swedish Nightingale"); to my left was a bust of Birgit Nilsson. Damn.
Following that, Klotina performed Liszt's transcription of Isolde's Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde. She played it from memory with absolute commitment, exhibiting all the wild energy and deep emotion you might imagine Liszt would have given his son-in-law's music 150 years ago. Thunderous. Shuddering. Ultimately transporting. Rarely have I felt so warm and inspired after a recital, lunchtime or anytime.
And, with that, it was back out into the snowy Stockholm winter. Fortunately, it was just a short walk across the Norrebrø Bridge to the Royal Palace, where I could while away another few hours before my next performance. More pics on the photo page.