OSLO, Norway - Thanks to a confluence of fortunate circumstances – primarily some aggressively low airfares – I had the chance to visit Scandinavia for the first time last month. Scandinavia? In January? Before you scoff, know that the weather over there, at least in the southern main cities, is 20 degrees warmer than it is in NYC right now. And, although the daylight lasted little more than seven hours, there was no shortage of activities to keep me occupied.
As you might imagine, I was mostly interested in exploring the musical life of these Nordic countries: from the indigenous folk music of Norway and Sweden, to the symphonic masterworks of Nielsen (Denmark) and Sibelius (Finland), to more modern forays into jazz and rock. (Sadly, I never got to experience any Norwegian black metal.) For two weeks, I was overwhelmed by the smörgåsbord of live music on offer, much of which took place in remarkable performance spaces that reflected Scandinavia's rich royal heritage, as well as their bent for contemporary architecture and design.
I began my journey in Oslo three weeks ago, where I caught the final performance of Jüri Reinvere's new opera, Peer Gynt, at the Oslo Opera House: a stunning marble and glass structure opened in 2008 that seems to float like an iceberg at the head of the Oslofjord. The building has quickly become Oslo's signature landmark – not unlike the Danish-designed Sydney Opera House – and during the summer months is a popular meeting spot, with gentle ramps offering easy access to the roof and its panoramic views. (The ramps were blocked by yellow tape when I was there, but that didn't stop dozens of locals and tourists from scaling the slick icy slopes.)
Of course, Peer Gynt is best known for the incidental music written by Norway's leading composer, Edvard Grieg, for a verse play by Henrik Ibsen in 1871. But Per Boye Hansen, artistic director of the Norway National Opera, felt that the story – which he says "is about as close as we can get to a national epic" – deserved the full operatic treatment. Enter Reinvere, an Estonian based in Berlin, who decided to write his own libretto, adapting Ibsen's story for modern times.
"What I am interested in," Reinvere wrote prior to the opera's premiere, "is redefining a symbol. In our current world, it has become very vague who we are as Europeans. And it’s fundamental that we reassess our history and its symbols at this time. Ibsen’s play is a perfect ground for that.”
The story, for those not familiar with it, centers around the self-centered character of Peer Gynt, who spends most of his life living frivolously and eschewing responisbility until he reaches old age and realizes that his life has largely been a failure because he lived only for himself. The settings – from Norway, to Morocco, to Egypt, then back again to Norway – were all preserved, as was the general storyline.
© Erik Berg
But, that's where the similarities ended. Compared to Grieg's pastoral "Morning Mood", or the bombastic "Hall of the Mountain King", Reinvere's music was shockingly modern and dissonant, with occasional moments of lyricism. Director Sigrid Strøm Reibo placed the action in modern times, complete with machine gun-toting terrorists, beach umbrellas, and hospital beds. Katrin Nottrdodt's sets and costumes leaned towards the fanciful, including a pair of 10 foot angel wings constructed of blown up surgical gloves.
Among the soloists, Nils Harald Sødal carried the show as Gynt, whose wiry frame made him seem like the Norwegian version of Klaus Kinski. The role of Solveig, whom Gynt rejects as a young man and returns to him in old age, was split between soprano Marita Sølberg (young) and mezzo-soprano Ingebjørg Kosmo (old). And, special props to tenor Thor Inge Falch, who spent much of Act II singing onstage in leopard print Speedos. (Don't ask.) The performance was led by John Helmer Fiore, a New York-native who has been the Norwegian National Opera's music director since 2009.
All-in-all, while there were some stunning visuals and moments of philosophical clarity, this Peer Gynt was largely what we've come to expect from modern European opera: that is, complicated, provocative, largely inscrutable – at least to me. As Gynt sings towards the end of the opera, "The world is full of worms that have eaten the middle. Only the edges are left."
More pics on the photo page.