Homage to Robert Mapplethorpe: slideshow with moderate music #HF19

A black man sits on the edge of the stage of Amsterdam's Stadsschouwburg, pardon ITA. He observes us with intense gaze as we walk into the auditorium. - As the incarnate subtitle of the performance dedicated to Robert Mapplethorpe Triptych (Eyes of One on Another). Behind a gauze screen are the instruments of Asko|Schönberg, which, together with Roomful of Teeth, will provide the musical accompaniment. Bryce Dessner wrote the music, many know him mainly as guitarist of rock group The National.

Triptych is based on three portfolios from the work of Mapplethorpe (1946-1989), known simply as X, Y, Z. His homoerotic photographs with nothing disguising sadomasochistic scenes and nude portraits of - mostly black - men caused much controversy. In 1990, it even came to a lawsuit against the Cincinnati Contemporary Art Center because of the 'obscenities' displayed. - Which, incidentally, the plaintiffs lost.

Bombardment of images

In his own words, Dessner "doesn't want to fight a battle that has already been won. After all, these days we don't look up from a porn picture more or less. Rather, he zooms in on Mapplethorpe's "radical, uncompromising view of man, his body, feelings, pain and craving". He calls Triptych 'a musical examination of notions of beauty and love, eroticism and art, freedom and persecution.' This consists of a one-and-a-half-hour bombardment of - indeed very explicit - images.

The music is an eclectic mix of Tuvan overtone singing, yodelling, Monteverdian madrigalism, gospel, Sardinian folk singing, grunting, pop and minimalism. The American choir Roomful of Teeth plays the leading role in this, Asko|Schönberg has only a secondary function. With simple, repeating patterns, they support the often scanned vocal parts, with motifs reminiscent of Scottish or Irish folk music. Very occasionally, the percussionists are allowed to indulge in a passage with thunderously pulsating rhythms.

Slaughtered pig

Director Kanez Schaal lets the lone black man walk across the stage or watch from the side. With him, we view the immense pictures, while the chorus sings elongated, quasi-philosophical lyrics by librettist Korde Arrington Tuttle. These are projected onto the gauze screen and draw partly from poetry by gay activist Essex Hempill and singer Patti Smith.

The opening image of 'X' shows a man hanging upside down from a cross, with a dark blood trail across his body. It evokes associations with both a freshly slaughtered pig and Christ. The following pictures are also explicitly sadomasochistic. The eight-member choir alternates between sweet chanting together and ominous growls. All sing through a microphone; the hall sound is cuttingly loud and even slightly distorted.

In 'Y', text fragments from the 1990 court case resound against a backdrop of floral and bondage photographs. Alternately, a man and a woman step forward as soloists with whooping, unfortunately rather shakily intoned, exclamations. The actor assumes the same pose as one of the people portrayed, his arms wrapped protectively in front of his head.

Unified music

Prior to 'Z', the man leaps in front of the curtain and briefly adopts a ballet dancer's pose. The chorus hisses and hums and spits out fragmented words. 'Aesthetics can justify desire, but desire can provoke punishment.' Well, it will, you think, murmured by the relentless stream of images and lyrics.

Despite the multitude of vocal techniques used, the music is ultimately too uniform to remain captivating. Moreover, not for a moment does it become clear what exactly the makers are trying to say. Is Triptych an indictment of racial discrimination, a plea for acceptance of the lhgtb community, for love perhaps?

Roomful of Teeth also lacks the level of ensembles like Cappella Amsterdam and the Netherlands Chamber Choir. Soon boredom and irritation strike, partly because of the high sound volume. When you think it's finally over, another spoken dialogue about a date follows. 'Did you fuck 'm?' - 'What do you think?'

Gay marriage

Next, the male soloist launches a cappella into a song that seems to advocate gay marriage. 'In America / I place my ring / on your cock / where it belongs', which grows agonisingly slowly into a polyphonic anthem. In which, oh dear, the strings of Asko|Schönberg also get to play a few lines. The black man returns to his old spot, his legs dangling over the edge of the stage.

Triptych is little more than a slide show with mediocre music, yet apart from some stray boos, there are mostly cheers. Given the composition of the audience, I cannot help but get the impression that this is largely coming from fans of Bryce Dessner, who have little familiarity with modern composed music. - Which is actually hopeful then. Who knows, maybe they will find their way to Muziekgebouw aan 't IJ next for Neuwirth, Ligeti or Moore.