NUREMBERG: The Pocket Opera Company (POC) hits the perfect note with its most recent piece, “Petrolio.” Emilio de' Cavalieri's “La representatione di anima e di corpo” (The Representation of the Spirit and the Body”) from 1600 is refitted with contemporary clothing. The audience at Planet in Nuremberg was enthralled.

Petrolio refers to petroleum as well as to an excerpt of a violent novel by Pier Paolo Pasolini. A successful engineer in the petrochemical industry lives out his mind-blowing sexual obsessions within his second self. It is classic Pasolini, whose books and films always involve massive struggles between the psyche and physical.

The fragmentation into two Selves, a personification of the splitting of one's consciousness, is a riveting intellectual experiment but is difficult to visually express. In the new POC production, this succeeds only in the final scene; two casting candidates – she, a shy wallflower and he, a self-confident womanizer –  face a critical jury.

Snappy Devil

Goaded on by a caustic devil and a heartwarming angel (played by the enchantingly comedic Robert Eller and Benedikt Nawrath), director Rainer Holzapfel of Potsdam had the brilliant idea of converting the songs of the originally allegorical figures into talent auditions. Here, rhetorically-polished infernal fire and celestial joy are conjured up, while on a mundane level, the actors personify something that they are not: charismatic performance stars.

Until then, the viewer should bring with him plenty of time and stamina, for the production is designed according to the Pocket Opera's style of the traveling performance. The various lounges of the roomy discotheque in northern Nuremberg also provide excellent acoustics. The entrance sequence is a dance of death; in the manner of a funeral march, it spans over fifty meters, working with striking, staggered echo effects that can actually be heard.

High Caliber

While the music of the Pocket Opera performances occasionally falls victim to its technical and production-related demands, its performance level here is astoundingly high caliber. Franz Killer has distilled Cavalieri's original into a concentrate of sound, in which Paul Meiler with his trumpet is especially outstanding.

Moreover, the singing is brilliantly executed. The eight vocalists (Jana Baumeister, Gertrud Demmler-Schwab, Katharina Heiligtag, Johannes Reichert, Roland Klappstein and Manuel Krauss), have turned Cavalieri's monodic style into a vivid swinging performance. In this case, the “pocket” of the Pocket Opera refers not to a delicate evening bag, but rather, a big suitcase full of surprises.


Weitere Aufführungen: 25., 27. und 29. 10, 1., 3. und 5. 11.; Karten: unter Tel 09 11/ 32 90 47 oder im Internet.

j.v.

Current Press Review: Nuremberg Evening Edition, 10.24.2009



At the end of it all, the fundamental question dissolves into hilarity. When a trashy-trans angel (audience favorite Benedikt Nawrath) and a operetta-like devil take charge of two casting show candidates judged by a choir of saints, the sky is the limit for fun and melodiousness.  Only those who read the program would realize that that Thomas (the tough Roland Klappstein) and Sabine (the tender Jana Baumeister) are in fact representations of body and soul.

For behind “Petrolio – An Opera About My Self (or MySelf)”  is contained the early Baroque work, “La rappresentatione di anime e di corpo” (The Representation of the Spirit and the Body). However, since the singing is done in Italian without surtitles, director Rainer Holzapfel is able to bring the struggle between animalism and the hope of salvation to a contemporary level and without contradiction at the Planet discotheque. 




This finds its parallel in a marital argument at the bar. When a young couple with a baby carriage gets lost within the temple of fun, the father proceeds to get drunk; meanwhile, the mother refuses to be corrupted by slimy seducers by flinging shot glasses at them.  The music is later  reworked into a similar scene which takes place between an older couple (impressively performed by Getrud Demmler-Schwab and Robert Eller), who get into a fight after sex.
 

Why? It's not really clear. Weaknesses are revealed here as well as at the beginning, when two groups of singers move slowly towards one another within the long hallway in a dance of the dead.  There is significant discord between the musicians and vocalists, and the reasoning behind the procession of quasi-epileptics and ghostly figures is also not made clear.



However, the rest of the production is effortlessly revealed, thanks to the broad monodical arcs with fervent openings and Cavalieri's rich choirs, as well as the fantastic orchestration of the bass with marimba, saxophones, trombones, and trumpets by the Pocket Opera's conductor and director, Franz Killer.  His nine musicians are utterly committed and step up their performance, as do the skilled vocalists, who at the finale, shower the audience with wonderful music. Whether the Self can truly be explained through relationship stress and casting shows has become secondary by then.
Georg Kasch

 
To perform one of the oldest operas in the history of music at a discotheque is a bold enterprise. Yet the Pocket Opera (POC) goes about it quite diplomatically at their new performance venue at “Planet.” Instead of arias with a hip-hop sound and cembalos with a hot beat, “Petrolio”, a new version of Emilio de' Cavalieri's “Representation of the Spirit and the Body” presents a rather careful encounter between Baroque and youth culture. 



No big effects, no fog machines, no booming beat here. The opera ensemble reveals itself in an intimate and subtle manner, with small chamber dramas at the forefront. Peter Haider's sound compositions unobtrusively scatter pauses between acts. One or two newbies to the disco may have been somewhat disappointed. For, as one more mature woman so succinctly and elegantly put it: “When will I ever come to a disco again?”

The first act begins somberly, having nothing to do with a disco. In a slow motion dance of the dead, the vocalists make their way through a long hall. They pause, sing directly next to members of the audience and vanish with melancholy chants. The second act brings us back to the land of the living: in the bar, a young couple argues, hurling insults at one another and glasses to the floor. 


The scene is echoed via the relationship drama of an older couple. Alienated from one another and yet full of longing, they confront one another.  For the first time, the world of the discotheque meshes in the plot. Lighting effects and pulsing music are superimposed a desolate scene: the couple (Robert Eller and Gertrud Demmler-Schwab) rip each other's clothes off and make love upon the sofa. Disenchantment ensues. There is hardly a more persuasive expression of post-coital melancholia than that by baritone Robert Eller.



Yet the highlight of the production comes only at its end. The new version of “Petrolio”, which is meant to be understood as “An Opera about My Self” concludes with its questions about significance and existence not with divine redemption and quite differently than the original version of Cavalieri. The closing act is carried off to a modern showcase of existence and of temptation – in a casting show. Two singers have been handed over to a jury, moderated by the devil (Robert Eller) and an angel (Benedikt Nawrath) larger than life. It is a wonderfully mischievous romp, which ultimately lets the true disco feeling emerge.
Nina Zschiesche