
VIENNA — All but one of Johann Strauss II’s operettas premiered at the Theater an der Wien, which reopened this season following renovations that outfitted the foyer with white marble and brighter lighting. And yet, it is only upon bicentenary celebrations across the city that the house has mounted his seventh stage work, Das Spitzentuch der Königin (The Queen’s Lace Handkerchief), first heard here under the composer’s baton in 1880. As seen at the Jan. 18 premiere, the new production is bold and entertaining but could lavish more attention on musical style.
To be sure, the work itself is as delightful musically as it is problematic in terms of dramaturgy: The libretto went through four different versions, having been submitted to the censors but also declared not humorous enough by the Theater an der Wien’s director at the time, Maximilian Steiner (grandfather of film composer Max Steiner). Composer and librettist Richard Genée assisted Strauss with the score.
The story about a self-indulgent king to be in Portugal is loosely based on the 16th-century ruler Sebastian, a legend for having died on the field in a crusade against Muslims in Morocco. Strauss came into contact with the subject matter through an opera by Friedrich von Flotow at Vienna’s Kärntnertortheater and became further interested thanks to the composer Constanze Geiger, whose husband, Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, was the youngest brother of the Portuguese King Fernando II (for more, see Ralph Braun’s essay in the 2007 publication International Coburger Johann Strauss Begegnungen).

Tensions in the libretto between the liberal king and his regent, the Count Villalobos — who sets out to persecute the poet Cervantes — were subsequently interpreted as a veiled commentary on Crown Prince Rudolf, an heir to the throne of the Austro-Hungarian Empire who ultimately entered a suicide pact with his mistress in 1889. This reading (which, according to Braun, is conjecture) has been perpetuated through recent stagings in Germany, such as the one at the Dresden State Operetta that was recorded in 2009.
In an interesting move, the Theater an der Wien’s staging emphasizes the character of Cervantes (the Spanish national poet who for a time fled his home country) as an artist whose values run against political imperatives represented by Count Villalobos. (Stage director Christian Thausing points out in program notes that the first version of the libretto was entitled Cervantes.) The operetta in effect mocks the excesses of royalty through the king’s insatiable culinary cravings, and yet in the work’s lieto fine, he is coronated while Cervantes emerges as a hero — paying homage to the virtues of art while also not questioning those of imperial order.

The King of Portugal in Thausing’s staging becomes a trouser role, cast with mezzo-soprano Diana Haller, whose performance is by turns inspired and hyperbolic. The first-act “Truffle Song” was at times forced dramatically, which led to intonation problems. The exaggerated use of rubato in the Vienna Chamber Orchestra under Martynas Stakionis did not help matters.
Maximilian Mayer drew laughs as the lawless Cervantes, and Michael Laurenz was an appropriately sinister but also humorous Count Villalobos. Elissa Huber‘s Queen emerges as a motherly, at times hysterical figure. Beate Ritter warmed up to an impressive performance as the cunning Donna Irene, thanks to her bright timbre and physical stamina.
The trio “Wo die wilde Rose erblüht” (on which Strauss based his famous waltz “Rose aus den Suden”) was a high point due to the sheer beauty of the music, and the chamber orchestra accompanied with welcome legato. At other times, starting right with the overture, the performance in the pit lacked the cantilena that is in fact central to the score (it has an almost Verdian quality that can be traced back to Strauss’ travels in Italy in 1874).

Nonetheless, ensemble scenes featuring the Arnold Schoenberg Choir and a troupe of dancers were lively and well-coordinated. Choreography by Evamaria Mayer ranging from waltz steps to modern, irreverent moves added a dose of slapstick but also mined the work’s inherent absurdity. Her work is complemented by the costumes of Timo Dentler, who outfits the dancers with animal heads and baroque ruffles.
At the center of Dentler’s stage design is an ornate carousel, which adds a further dose of carnival and provides a convenient way of introducing or dispensing with characters. And yet it spins irrespective of what is happening in the score and at times comes across as a gag.
Despite the staging’s high energy and clever inquiry into the political commentary underlying the libretto, the evening also laid bare a lack of interest in the performance practice of Viennese operetta (if Nikolaus Harnoncourt decided it was important in Baroque music, why not this?). While Strauss’ Die Fledermaus is a staple at both the State Opera and Volksoper, the intimate Theater an der Wien mounts everything from grand opera to Monteverdi. Time will tell if this production is a one-time vehicle for the Strauss bicentenary rather than a move to restore an iconically Viennese tradition to the house where it was bred.