Where do I start?
Ingmar Bergman, the Swedish godfather of psychological cinematography; Fanny and Alexander, an Oscar-winning masterpiece from 1984 – these two core concepts are what De Munt brought together as a grand finale for 2024.Fanny and Alexander
is a psychological coming-of-age story. The inner workings of family structure – both that of the Ekdahls and the household of Bishop Edvard Vergerus (a sinister portrayal from none other than baritone Thomas Hampson.) I didn't expect he could appear even more imposing – in voice and presence alike – but here we are. It was a stellar cast that came together, but let's stick to the heart of the matter: Fanny and Alexander. Of the two children, it's really the almost painful transition to adulthood for young Alexander that takes center stage. In true Bergman fashion, nothing is black and white. No one, not even the children, is always entirely truthful. Vocally, it's rare to see a young voice given such dramatic and performative attention. Alexander is impressively portrayed by young Jay Weiner. by Swedish composer Mikael Karlsson, under the baton of conductor Ariane Matiakh. A world premiere by De Munt on commission from Ingmar Bergman Jr. But more importantly: a new creation that proves opera can be more than a relic of the past.Ingmar Bergman
Having lived in Stockholm for a few months myself, this opera felt like a brief homecoming. Scandinavian arts, cinema, and honestly even their opera productions, possess a quality that's hard to put into words. You move through an expressionistic world that demands a certain intuition. There's no spoon-feeding, which keeps tedium and exhaustion at bay. Sometimes there's also a raw beauty. One that confronts you, as if you're staring into an abyss and can't look away. And this is certainly true for the silent, magnified spaces – both physical landscapes and spiritual wanderings – that I feel more acutely when watching an Ingmar Bergman film (which does happen from time to time.)
is a psychological coming-of-age story. The inner workings of family structure – both that of the Ekdahls and the household of Bishop Edvard Vergerus (a sinister portrayal from none other than baritone Thomas Hampson.) I didn't expect he could appear even more imposing – in voice and presence alike – but here we are.This feeling also returns in the production of
It opens with a joyful occasion: a Christmas party. The family is together, but something feels off. Having set this scene, the Ekdahl family
on display
is a psychological coming-of-age story. The inner workings of family structure – both that of the Ekdahls and the household of Bishop Edvard Vergerus (a sinister portrayal from none other than baritone Thomas Hampson.) I didn't expect he could appear even more imposing – in voice and presence alike – but here we are.
soon gives way to a descent into the threat of Bishop Vergerus, cloaked in religion and domesticity. And that, by extension, of his devout housemaid Justina (mezzo-soprano Anne Sofie Von Otter). is a psychological coming-of-age story. The inner workings of family structure – both that of the Ekdahls and the household of Bishop Edvard Vergerus (a sinister portrayal from none other than baritone Thomas Hampson.) I didn't expect he could appear even more imposing – in voice and presence alike – but here we are.. It opens with a festive occasion: a Christmas party. The family is together, but something feels off. Having set this scene, the Ekdahl family on display, is quickly followed by a descent into the menace of Bishop Vergerus, cloaked in religion and domesticity. And he, by extension, through his devout housemaid Justina (mezzo-soprano Anne Sofie Von Otter).
The common thread running through it all is the children. The adults in their lives, such as their mother Emilie (mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke), set events in motion, but it is Fanny (Sarah Dewez) and Alexander who bear the consequences. We don't necessarily see the story through their eyes, but we are drawn into their emotional world. Particularly that of young Alexander, who struggles with a destructive youthful urge to rebel. This takes on mythical proportions in an unreal and unique section: Ismaël (countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen).
I've never felt such mixed emotions about a character as I have with Ismaël. In Bergman's story, Alexander's mythical cousin is the messenger that fantasy – in this case Alexander's wish that the bishop dies – and reality are closer together than you'd think. Cohen, like Hampson, is a figure who physically towers over the others on stage like a giant. Ismaël in the story is a mysterious, magical figure – one where you get the feeling that if he were a fairy tale, it would be one to warn children. Cohen's voice, as a countertenor, is incredible. It's big, it rings clear, and at one point it even drops to a low register that makes it sound as though two people inhabit the figure of Ismaël. The entire section, combined with the compelling performance by Weiner – young, but already someone who leaves an impression – is brief, but it touches the soul.
is a psychological coming-of-age story. The inner workings of family structure – both that of the Ekdahls and the household of Bishop Edvard Vergerus (a sinister portrayal from none other than baritone Thomas Hampson.) I didn't expect he could appear even more imposing – in voice and presence alike – but here we are. is a production I hope to see again someday. It deserves to become a permanent fixture in the opera canon. These are the kinds of mythical (opera) stories that will surely stay with us.
