‘Die Tote Stadt’ Reveals Intimation Of Its Depth In Semi-Staged Concert

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The Boston Symphony Orchestra, in collaboration with Boston Lyric Opera, presented semi-staged performances of Korngold’s ‘Die tote Stadt ‘ at Symphony Hall. (Photos by Hilary Scott)

BOSTON — Die tote Stadt, Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s 1920 post-Freudian operatic psycho-drama, plays like Strauss, reads like Ibsen, and sounds more like Puccini than Schoenberg. Whatever the apt comparisons, it demands to be an organic unit: theater, music, ideas, text. The Boston Symphony Orchestra’s semi-staged concert version, starring soprano Christine Goerke and tenor David Butt Philip and led by music director Andris Nelsons, gets at most of that, but not all of it.

Embedding a dream of love within a love story and a comedy, Die tote Stadt mines the rich materials of post-Freudian thought and the emotional fragility of late 19th-century Europe. The Boston Symphony, in collaboration with Boston Lyric Opera, presented semi-staged performances of Korngold’s intricate score Jan. 30 and Feb. 1 at Symphony Hall. Goerke sang the double roles of Marietta/Marie, who become mysteriously entwined with the widower Paul, sung by Philip.

A storm of psycho-tropes clouds the bizarre relationship: transference, fetishism, dream therapy, the femme fatale, the virgin-whore, melancholia, stalking. The dense, deft score — a preview from the 20-something Korngold of his subsequent successes in Hollywood — often blasted from the stage. A large orchestra, three choruses, two prominent soloists, and a half-dozen antic sidekicks made for loads of sonic competition.

Andris Nelsons led a cast headed by soprano Christine Goerke, in the double roles of Marietta/Marie, and tenor David Butt Philip as Paul.

Korngold paints a crafty picture of Paul with allusions to the devastated city of Bruges that mimic the character’s stark emotions. Paul has carefully created a house shrine to his dead wife and seemed intent on not leaving. But as the action begins, Paul has seen a dancer in a commedia dell’arte troupe (which later performs its own Act 2 interlude) who reminds him precisely of his wife.

Marietta the dancer woos the thunderstruck Paul and then abruptly abuses him and the memory of his wife, Marie. He in turn idolizes Marietta, becoming an abject stalker/inamorata. The opera culminates in Paul strangling her with a braid of his wife’s hair, an obsessively preserved token. Only after killing Marietta does Paul realize it’s all been a dream (the audience realizes it then, as well), claiming that experiencing the delusion has cleansed his fixation.

Three choruses, including an offstage contingent, participated in the performances.

Semi-stagings have become a BSO staple during Nelsons’ 10 years and an audience favorite (opening night of Die tote Stadt was sold out). Nelsons and the orchestra have programmed multiple semi-staged Wagners, Cosí fan tutte, La bohème — all compellingly performed. The benefits of semi-staging: greater prominence given to the instruments, usually a plus. The drawbacks: instrumentalists who would normally be in the pit share the sonic space, overwhelming the voices.

Tenor Philip was a late substitution in the cast, bravely taking on the strenuous role of the obsessed widower. He had substituted for the BSO in Beethoven’s Ninth the previous week and stayed to fill in for this role. Philip has an adroit, lively instrument, and it’s little surprise that he is much in demand. But it was disappointing not to hear the role sung with confidence. Little fault of his own, Philip overly relied on the score and on Nelsons to keep up at the expense of staying in character. This became particularly troublesome during the exhausting duet that opens Act 3 — the monumental argument that ends with Paul strangling Marietta.

Goerke herself, normally a force of robust creativity, had trouble being heard over the orchestra. Elliot Madore’s lyric bass (as another double, Frank/Fritz, Paul’s confidant, then part of Marietta’s troupe) struggled to be heard at times as well. But in his moment — the Act 2 interlude, singing “Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen” (My longing, my dreaming, brings me back to the past), prefiguring the outcome of Paul’s grief therapy — Madore both articulated and lanced Paul’s fantasy in strong voice and spot-on character.

Lyric bass Elliot Madore articulated and lanced Paul’s fantasy in strong voice and spot-on character.

There were touching moments in the densely through-composed score, which has some memorable solos and duets. Paul and Marietta join in the searching Lute Song, “Glück, das mir verblieb” (Joy, sent from above), as they warily meet for the first time. Brigitta (mezzo-soprano Karen Cargill, another double role as a housekeeper/lay religious), the half-dozen players in the commedia troupe, and the three chamber choirs — Tanglewood Festival Chorus, Boston Lyric Opera chorus, and the well-regarded St. Paul’s Choir School boys — filled in with poignant complementary scenes. Their appearances alluded to the origins of the libretto, Georges Rodenbach’s 1892 novel Bruges-la-Morte, and deepened the comparisons between Paul and the dead city.