"That fairytale world has never been my world," director Ivo van Hove declared before the premiere of Schreker's fairytale opera Der Schatzgräber. Remarkable, as Van Hove and his regular scenographer Jan Versweyveld were previously responsible at De Nederlandse Opera for Tchaikovsky's Iolanta and Janáček's The Makropulos case - also fairy tales rather than grand dramatic works.
Tchaikovsky's last opera is all about Princess Iolanta. Everyone knows she is blind, but keeps it hidden from her. Until knight Vaudémont betrays the secret and Iolanta realises she is missing something: light. As if by magic, an Arab doctor heals her and Iolanta marries her valiant knight. Main character of The Makropulos case is 337-year-old Emilia Marty. As a girl, she was given a magic potion that has kept her alive for centuries, but when she feels it is wearing off, she goes in search of the recipe. In the end, she realises it is better to die after all.
Also in Der Schatzgräber two fairy tale elements play a crucial role: the queen's stolen jewels that keep her young, and singer Elis' magic lute, which enigmatically leads him to all kinds of treasures - hence his nickname the treasure hunter. Elis, however, cares nothing for wealth and ostentation and immediately gives away the treasures he has found. In exchange for a wife, the jester points out this singer to the king, after which Elis is sent on a quest. In the process, he meets Els and falls in love with her, unaware that she holds the jewels. Her cruel (step-)father runs a pub, but wants to retire and has already found a rich suitor for Els three times, who, however, Els unscrupulously has her servant Albi kill. Elis threatens to be hanged for this, but Els saves him by giving up the jewels, but he is never allowed to ask how she got her hands on them. When Albi is arrested and confesses, Els in turn escapes death because the jester claims her as his wife. Only on her deathbed does she see Elis again, who has always loved her.
A story from a grim fairy tale book, then, and we should take that literally with Van Hove. The whole set is a gigantic open book, but a modern book, because it is not only a pop-up book where set spaces smoothly slide forward and back, but also a modern reader on which film projections are also shown.
As with Iolanta and The Makropulos case Van Hove chooses one scene on which the entire concept is based. At Iolanta resulted in a shadowy production in semi-darkness. Iolanta lacks light and so does the audience. Much more successful was the staging of The Makropulos case. In that opera about mortality and eternity, spinning atomic clock mercilessly counted down the one hour and forty minutes the opera occupies. At Der Schatzgräber Van Hove zooms in on Els' lullaby at the beginning of the third act in which she sings of her unhappy childhood.
Always a little sick, a life in poverty and a mother telling her that her father is gone forever. Van Hove depicts this childhood trauma in evocative film images that should make it clear why she so unscrupulously orders murders. Opera and film remains a tricky combination, however, and however beautifully filmed, Tal Yarden's images have a clichéd feel - a dip in the water, white horses, a starry sky during a lovemaking session.
The invention to illustrate the magical power of the jewels is nice, though: Van Hove suggests a great leap in time between the third and fourth acts by making all at court old, complete with walkers and canes, while the queen is the only one to have retained her youth. This also suggests that Elis and Els' love night lasted endlessly, exactly what Schreker does there with music emphatically reminiscent of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde.
With the emphasis on Els' story, German soprano Manuela Uhl is given plenty of room to shine, although she struggles in the first two acts with the orchestra playing at full power. Elis is much more sketchily coloured, making tenor Raymond Very and the other - otherwise excellent soloists - less prominent. The only exception is the jester, but British tenor Graham Clark manages to make something special out of every role.
Like five years ago at Schrekers Die Gezeichneten however, the orchestra claims the absolute leading role. With Schreker, everything seems to be about timbre, and Marc Albrecht and the Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra show why he was so keen to conduct this particular opera in Amsterdam. It remains unclear why Van Hove wanted to direct this particular fairy-tale opera. Like no other, he knows how to capture the essence of the opera, but also brings all the weaknesses of Schreker's libretto to the fore.