VIENNA — As Austria recovers from shock over the recent shooting at a secondary school in the city of Graz, the Theater an der Wien has unveiled an opera about nothing less than serial murder. Miroslav Srnka’s Voice Killer, seen at its June 13 premiere, is based on the story of Eddie Leonski, an American soldier who was hanged on the gallows in Melbourne after strangling three women in 1942. He had been stationed abroad to help the Australians fight in Pearl Harbor despite a history of unstable mental health and violent outbursts, only to kill victims on his evenings off.
Srnka has rejoined forces with playwright Tom Holloway, who provided the libretto for South Pole, about the race of British and Norwegian teams in the Antarctic in the early 20th century. The work brought Srnka into the spotlight as a stage composer following its premiere at the Bavarian State Opera in 2016. In Voice Killer, he and Holloway have taken an interest in the psychological trauma behind the actions of Leonski, who grew up in an abusive home and, after drinking himself into a stupor, would long to hear the voice of his mother (after murdering the singer Pauline Thompson, who performed for the troops, he reportedly said: “I wanted that voice”). Holloway also sets out to empower the victims by having the three women double as officials investigating their own murders.
The topic is, in theory, rich stuff for an opera. Srnka casts Leonski (here, just named Private) as a baritone who breaks into falsetto in moments of madness, while Pauline’s writing is stratospherically high. Leonski’s mother, who is reduced to a silent scream as he hangs from a noose in the final scene, is assigned a spoken role. One could trace the work’s lineage back to Berg’s Wozzeck — in which the title character is a deranged solider who commits a murder of passion — or Mozart’s Don Giovanni, which begins with a duel and ends with the Commendatore’s return from the dead. And yet Voice Killer is above all a tabloid opera that benefits from the shock value of its subject matter, and its effect is more disturbing than profound.
Nevertheless, the work creates an intriguing montage of the characters, chorus, and orchestra, effectively allowing the plot to unfold both as a real-life story and in an imaginary space. Srnka has crafted otherworldly atmospheres that can suspend time in space or create enormous tension in film-like fashion. With instrumentation including waterphones and rain sticks, the composer also explores the resonance of the voice itself and its interaction with the ethereal ensemble. Yet the score is too often relegated to a soundtrack for the commotion onstage.
As per the carefully researched libretto, the staging of Cordula Däuper juxtaposes stark realism with imaginary elements in an attempt to both render the story immediate and explore its Freudian elements. Scrims inform us about everything from the protagonist’s heritage (Polish and Russian) to the timing of his victims’ deaths, while a flashback to Leonski’s childhood includes giant furniture to represent his view of the world at the time (sets by Friedrich Eggert).
The production is impeccably put together, from the first appearance of Private laughing psychotically behind a real image of Leonski as it fades into the darkness to the swooning bar scene in which Srnka creates a sense of delirium and then panic before Pauline’s murder. Least successful are the repeated appearances of Private’s mother reminiscing or scolding him, lines the actress Jacqueline Macaulay belted in a Southern accent.
The dramatic and vocal standards were nevertheless high, lending credibility to a work that often struggled against its own weight. Seth Carico was in fine voice and convincing dramatically as the tragic Private. Julian Hubbard was steadfast as his confidant, Gallo. Caroline Wettergreen brought a lyrical voice and solid technique to the role of Leonski’s first victim, Ivy, while Holly Flack hit the challenging notes of Srnka’s at times mock coloratura writing and struck a bold presence as the glamorous Pauline. Nadja Stefanoff rounded out the cast as the final victim, Gladys.
The Arnold Schoenberg Chorus, which entered on an extended, monophonic drone, dispatched its role with a homogenous tone and sensitive dynamics. The Klangforum Wien gave a meticulous reading under the baton of Finnegan Downie Dear, creating ghostly sonorities that in the opening tableau take on a pixelated quality. Srnka’s score is packed with inventive timbres and harmonies and an original approach to structure. Hopefully, the subject matter of the next libretto he chooses will offer more substance and space for his musical ideas to unfold.
