Kafka at the ballet

Here's my piece from yesterday's Independent about Arthur Pita's new dance theatre work based on The Metamorphosis by Kafka. One day Edward Watson awoke to find that he had been transformed into a giant insect.... It's at ROH2 all this week.

The Metamorphosis is the book of the moment. I've been in Paris for a couple of days to do an interview and while there I also met up for tea and tarte aux framboises on the Place des Vosges with Mikhail Rudy (he of The Pianist and the animated Kandinsky Pictures at an Exhibition). His next collaborative project, due for premiere in Paris in March 2012, is based on...yes, The Metamorphosis, and will involve film projections by the Quay Brothers to a selection of Janacek piano music. Meanwhile he's bringing Pictures to the UK in November - performances in Southampton (17 Nov) and at the Wimbledon Festival (19 Nov). Well worth the train ride, imho.

Meanwhile, my interviewee - an intergalactic opera star - talked to me for two hours, then sent me home with a red nose. That is a first. I hasten to add that it's made of foam. It is now perching on my desk lamp, smiling at me (in a manner of speaking), while I think of his unforgettable performance as Werther earlier this year.

What Bach could do with two oboes

I've just found part of my favourite Bach cantata on Youtube conducted by John Eliot Gardiner, who seems to know exactly what to do with it. I first heard Cantata BWV 8, 'Liebster Gott, wann werd'ich sterben', when I was a student, ploughing through the complete catalogue on LPs in the university music library, and it was love at first toot. There's never been anyone else in the history of music, to the best of my knowledge, who could write for two oboes - oboe d'amores, here - as Bach could.

Finding a recording that really worked, though, wasn't easy: the only ones I ran to earth in the mid-80s were Harnoncourt, which featured some wince-worthy choirboys, and Karl Richter, whom I usually adored, but even I couldn't quite deal with the sluggishness of those tempi. I've clocked one or two others since which seemed relentlessly chirpy and schoolmarmish, hence not exactly reflecting the words...

Gardiner, though, captures the reflective, ineffable quality of this music and its text, wearing his learning lightly, packaging up a heart of compassionate tenderness within a streamlined 18th-century casing.

This cantata apparently was a great favourite of Brahms's too - and if you listen, I think you can hear why. Hope you love it as much as he did. Take it away, oboes...

Hottest ticket in town: Mieczyslaw Weinberg

Here's my piece from today's Independent about Weinberg's opera The Passenger, which opens at ENO on Monday. Interestingly, I've been hearing Weinberg's name for years from my various Russian musician friends who from time to time all let fly with minor rants about what a terrific composer he was and how ridiculous it is that we never hear his works. But if anything can put him on the map, where he should be, it is this: an opera evoking reminiscences of Auschwitz. David Pountney talks to me about why The Passenger can do this when others can't, and we trace the history of Weinberg and ask why he is the composer that time forgot.

Today I am going to meet Zofia Posmysz, author of the largely autobiographical novel on which the opera is based.... 

The trailer proves that we're in for quality music very much a la Shostakovich:

Eva-Maria Westbroek gets things off her chest

My interview with Eva-Maria Westbroek in today's Independent features some startling revelations about the effect of those fake breasts in Anna Nicole. She talks about taking on that role, what it was like to sing in the live cinecast of Die Walkure from the Met, and her forthcoming role in Il tabarro at Covent Garden (opening next week). Wonderful singer, wonderful woman.

The only bit that's missing is her beloved dog: she has a Cavalier King Charles spaniel called Ruby, who goes with her all over Europe. Anna Nicole might have approved.

Black magic in Budapest?

A Hungarian newspaper, Bors, has run a most bizarre story about strange goings-on in the Hungarian State Opera House. According to this report, mysterious accidents and illnesses allegedly blight the opera company and some rumours have been suggesting that this is being brought about by "black magic". Here's the original in Hungarian, if that's helpful.

The article goes on to cite (again, according to Google Translate) a case of epileptic seizures without previous history, while also suggesting that a young conductor suffered a nervous breakdown.

In Bors, the picture of the singer Ilona Tokody is captioned: "An elusive force pushed me into the depths"; according to their interview, she fell off a ladder and sustained a back injury. And that's just the start. The translation suggests she is saying that six other people have suffered accidents or illness, then adds: "I could not fight against it, but my guardian angel took care of me and saved me."

My Hungarian friends say the whole thing is complete nonsense...and actually it sounds to me much like business as usual in the theatrical world... Or perhaps a health & safety executive could look into the condition of the historic building, in which Mahler and Klemperer both conducted once upon a time.

Meanwhile the company's management is in a state of flux. The music director Adam Fischer resigned last year in protest over the Prime Minister Viktor Orban's media laws. Of which more shortly.