Oper von unten - Deutsche Oper Berlin
Opera from below
No German composer knew his audiences as well as Albert Lortzing. His operas are masterpieces informed by the spirit of traditional theatre. Jörg Königsdorf offers his thoughts on the classic work
Albert Lortzing was arguably never happier in his 50 years than in the days that followed the 4th January 1839 – and this despite that winter’s particularly bitter temperatures. With the triumph of his second opera premiere he saw himself as having definitively arrived: the Berlin performance of THE CZAR AND THE CARPENTER at the Königliche Hofoper Unter den Linden marks the day that Lortzing suddenly comes to the attention of an international public as an opera composer of stature. Moreover, a notice penned by the most influential critic of the day, Ludwig Rellstab, called the opera »far and away the best work to be written by a young German composer since I began my appraisal of music performances in Berlin«. At the age of 38, Lortzing is riding high, the shooting star of the German opera scene.
The huge success of the piece is remarkable for a number of reasons. For a start, the first night of THE CZAR AND THE CARPENTER in Berlin is emphatically not the world premiere, which had been held in Leipzig the year before. On that occasion the reception had been warm but nothing like the riotous exuberance that preceded the opera’s triumphant world tour. Secondly, he is an unknown quantity. Before CZAR Lortzing had penned only one other opera, likewise a comedy of errors aimed at a broad audience but one that has failed to imprint itself on fans of the sub-genre.
Indeed, Lortzing’s success flies in the face of the cult of the Romantic genius prevailing at the time. While the leading German composer of the day, Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, agonising over the core characteristics of musical theatre and under pressure to break the mould, gets bogged down in annotations and drafts, Lortzing rocks up and points the way, demonstrating that quality comes from doing and from soaking up with eyes and ears what’s happening on stage.
And among German composers Lortzing is the doer par excellence. He has been steeped in theatre from childhood onwards, his hobby-actor parents having hitched up with a company of travelling players after their leather goods firm went bust. Lortzing learns the tools of the drama trade, as actor and singer, as Mozart’s Don Giovanni, as youthful lover in the popular comedies of August von Kotzebue, as joker in simple farces. As time passes, he develops an instinct for when a provincial German audience is likely to feel tickled, tense, moved or bored. Musically, he is largely self-taught, absorbing works by Mozart, Rossini and Bellini – another possible reason for his relatively late start as a composer presenting works for public consumption.
What maybe sets Lortzing apart is that, for him, an artist is not primarily seeking self-gratification through his work but rather fashioning it with his audience in mind, aiming to entertain in the best sense of the word. Which is another reason why Lortzing usually writes his librettos himself, the only composer before Wagner to do this. And no work showcases his skill at inserting punchlines better than THE CZAR AND THE CARPENTER, which succeeds not only thanks to catchy tunes like the famous Clog Dance but also due to its blend of repartee and musical wit. No surprise, then, that van Bett, the hopelessly flustered mayor, applying this very humour to his opening aria »O sancta justizia!«, instantly becomes the most sympathetic protagonist in the opera. As a way of adapting the brilliant interplay of wittiness and musicality for today’s audience, our production of CZAR, two centuries after its premiere, has a libretto adapted by director and author Martin G. Berger.
Lortzing’s aspirations in the aftermath of the Berlin premiere are not realised, however. His operas are performed far and wide but he himself sees little of the profits. At his death in 1851, aged 50, he leaves behind a wife and child in penury. Nonetheless, Berliners later raise a monument to their eloquent composer in the Tiergarten park.