It is just about the most beautiful music written. Claudio Monteverdi's Marian Vespers have enchanted even the most untrained listener since their premiere in 1610. Raphael Pichon is a young French conductor acclaimed for his shimmering yet refined musicality and more than absolute hearing. Everything director Pierre Audi touches usually turns to gold and artist Berlinde de Bruyckere has won every award you can think of in the art world.
The programme booklet for The National Opera's The Marian Vespers really only consists of lists and lists of successes. So the royal opening of the 2017 Holland Festival was a resounding, award-winning success in advance. The Gashouder of Amsterdam's Westergasfabriek, that steampunk cathedral that no man can't be impressed by, shimmered with anticipation. 1 hour and 55 minutes later, the applause was remarkably subdued. I heard the Queen, walking out below me, say something about some people now craving a cigarette. What had happened?
Aluminium
In short, it was a question of scale. To do full justice to the Marian vespers, the singing was arranged differently in almost every section. So singers moved to towers behind the gallery, one group went to the left, another to the right. Did the choir move to the centre, then back again. This kind of movement not only takes time, it also produces a tremendous bucket of noise if you are not careful.
In fact, aluminium scaffolding already tends to creak loudly when a mouse pees against it, let alone when a chorister walks over it. So it was, on the one hand, a challenge for the technology to make the hall 'quiet', and on the other, for the singers, a matter of walking very softly. And so that's where things went wrong.
Seventy minutes
Traversing the vast expanse of the Gashouder already takes quite a lot of time, if you also have to do so stealthily on stocking feet you are soon hours away. Hence, the music, which can usually be performed in three quarters of an hour, was now replete with repeats, extras, delays and more, to make some sense of the over an hour of walking time. Perfectly executed, of course. But thus seventy minutes extra.
Because the singers could not walk fast, things also became much more stately and static than could have been intended. Then you get the peppermint stress that the Protestant part of the audience in particular is familiar with from Putten's hellenot church. You start dreaming away, now and then. Thinking too long about what that huge sculpture in that gigantic arena is actually supposed to represent: a dead sperm whale? A giant octopus in decomposition? An alien-jesus? Could be anything, and then the thing is also located rather unhappily in sight of at least thirty spectator seats in the front rows (Recurring problem for Holland Festival openings).
Did that make the whole project a failure? Not really. All the ingredients make for a top-notch menu. The kitchen just left the pan simmering on a slightly too low heat for a little too long. That's when some visitors start craving a fag.
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