tirsdag, september 25, 2007

Looking ahead ....

Let me give you some figures.

In 2002/03 the chorus had 67 performances. In 03/04 a little more ...... 90. In 04/05 a bit more again - 114 (that's when we moved into the New House). The 2005/06 season saw a slight drop, back to 98. Last year, however, there were 119 opportunities to catch the chorus on stage (almost twice as many as in the 2002/03 season).

And this year we are almost unavoidable; to quote from Leonard Bernstein's opera, Candide, we will be doing our best to "glitter and be gay" almost every other day. Shared between Holmen and Gamle Scene, the chorus will be singing in 156 performances. It is quite a rise in a very few years. And that takes some planning.

Rehearsals for this season's opening premiere, Hoffmann's Eventyr, were well underway already in May. It opened on the 8th September. Now a revival of Don Giovanni has been playing for a week. It's our smallest piece - a group of 24 singers, and the ladies only get to sing in 1 number (though, for the record, they have an even shorter part in Ragnarok: where despite almost 5 hours of music, Wagner has only allotted them 15 notes. In contrast to that, music scores are brushed down and opened up once again next week to relearn Verdi's choral blockbuster, Don Carlos, and, with 71 singers, it is our largest piece this season In the meantime, Den Glade Enke started music rehearsals last week and La Bohème hits the boards next week. The chorus appears only in the 2nd and 3rd Acts, and Act II of La Bohème is one of the shortest acts the repertoire - coming in at around 20 minutes - about the same length as the orchestral prelude to Parsifal! It is not short, however, on the number of characters the chorus are required to play - in this production there are 18 different characters who have a specific task to fulfil allied to the role they are singing - and all of these have to be covered in case of illness.

In all that's 5 different pieces in 8 weeks. We will be getting our tongue tied around 4 different languages: French, Italian, Danish and Czech. The linguistic competence that is required by a chorister is worth a blog in itself, but just as a taster, let's consider Czech.

Czech is the language of Dvorak's opera Rusalka which will get it's Danish premiere in February 2008, despite having had its world premiere 107 years previously!! The idea of singing in Czech generally fills a singer with dread, at first. Why? Because of all European languages it has the greatest number of words with no vowels. One can be expressive singing "A", try being expressive on a "K" or a "P".

I am sure I do not need to tell you there is a lot of death in opera -in Czech opera, there is a lot of "smrt". "Morta, morta" cries the Italian, "smrt! smrt!" buzzes the Czch, thereby covering the last row of the orchestra in a fine dusting of saliva. "Ice" is "zmrzl" and a "fool" is a "blb". But my favourite has to be this:

"Strc prst skrz krk"

That's the longest sentence without any vowels. Try singing that and projecting it to the back of the auditorium. It is unlikely we will ever need to. Rather appropriately, perhaps, it means "stick your finger through your throat". Who knows - it might help. But we won't need to find out for some weeks yet.

This week we will be concentrating on pulling Bohème together for repremiere on October 1st. It also marks the arrival of our new chorus master, Jeremy Bines, the biennial Chorus Seminar, with opera chief, Kasper Bech Holten with whom we also embark on a 7-week journey which will culminate in the premiere of Don Carlos on the 18th November.

With 9 performances already past as I write, you only have 147 opportunities to catch us.

See you there!


Philip White

torsdag, september 20, 2007

Kære "Kor".......from Philip




On 8th September as the curtain fell on the first evening of Hoffmann's Eventyr, so too the curtain fell on a whole era in the life of Det Kongelige Operakor. For after 18 years, as the red velvet brushed the slightly dampened stage floor (the last act of the piece is set in Venice!), so it marked the official departure of my colleague, Kaare Hansen, as chorus master.

17 years ...... phew!

17 years, during the majority of which Kaare was the sole director of the group of 60 singers the chorus comprises,

17 years, which saw the steady rise in the quality of the chorus' work,

17 years, during which Kaare managed to preserve his quiet unflappability, always with underlying gentle good humour for which he was famed, doggedley pursuing his goals of perfection with his eye and ear for detail, and always fronted by a great human warmth, which one could witness, not only in his work with the chorus, but with any of his colleagues in the different departments of the Opera.

[*Click for more photos by Michael Bennati Schou ]
When I auditioned for the post of 2nd chorus master nearly 5 years ago, I was in no doubt afterwards, that I wanted to work with this group of people. We had worked for only about 30 minutes and yet it had felt good, productive. But I was keenly aware that I was, in fact, applying for a job-share and, whilst I was optimistic about working with the chorus itself, I was slightly hesitant about how things would go with the "other chorus master". I need not have worried.

A more generous colleague I could not have had the good fortune to work with. After all, Kaare had already been here for nigh on 13 years: when he took over the chorus I was still reluctantly putting student days, ways and thoughts behind me - and now we were to share the same job, as equal partners. Yet I was forgetting that if I had enjoyed my audition with the chorus, if they had responded so quickly and if they had been in such good form, then there must be somebody decent behind it all - and that could only be Kaare.

There was a lot to learn (least of all Danish); the season was already a decent size and now within three months of my arrival we were all to move over to Holmen and everything would get bigger with quite different working conditions. But having seen the move through, the chorus safely installed and what must be over a 100 different productions behind him, Kaare decided to call it a day. And so next week I will be in his position 4 years ago, welcoming my new colleage on board ship.

It can only be my ambition that when I eventually hoist anchor and sail to different shores, that my successor will find the chorus in as fine fettle as I did.

I also hope my new colleague will be able to pronounce my name properly. I don't think my anglo-saxon tongue ever got that right.

Philip White

[*Click for more photos by Michael Bennati Schou ]

onsdag, september 12, 2007

En Assistents Bekendelser. Kapitel 8: Mit liv som Teletubbie

Der er mange mennesker ansat på Det Kongelige Teater. Skuespillere, sangere, dansere og Det Kongelige Kapel. Så er der teknikere, kostumeafdeling, frisører, ledelse, statister, påklædere, kantinemedarbejdere, rengøring, korsyngemestre, regissører, producenter, dirigenter...ja, der er sikkert mange flere.
Men over os alle svæver dét, jeg kalder DEN HIMMELSKE FORORDNING.
Som i Teletubbieland er der højttalere, hvorfra der med jævne mellemrum er en stemme, som taler til os. Stemmen siger, hvor vi skal gå hen og hvornår. Det hedder intet mindre end kaldet.
Af Den Himmelske Forordning bliver vi med monoton stemme kaldt (eller kaldet?) til fx "prøvesal 7, korprøvesal...", eller "prøvesal 1, prøvescene..."
Ude hos os på Holmen begynder kaldet sommetider med ordene: "store opera..." - det er én af de koder, jeg ikke har knækket endnu. Men måske bliver jeg bare testet i min tro? Hvis jeg lytter mere intenst eller går hurtigere til den rigtige prøvesal, vil ordenes sande betydning måske åbenbare sig i mit hjerte?
Man kan blive helt afhængig af denne usynlige vejleder. Der er situationer i livet, hvor det ikke ville være dårligt, hvis en stemme lige kunne fortælle én, hvad man skulle gøre. På den anden side er det meget rart ikke at leve hele sit liv som Teletubbie...
Anna Julie Brønholt

søndag, september 02, 2007

Den store badedag


..................................................................... [*Foto: Miklos Szabo]
Omsider blev der åbnet for sluserne, skruet op for alle haner, og en spektakulær scenografisk idé kunne søsættes på Store Scene ude på Holmen.

Efter adskillige uger i en varm og knastør prøvesal med anvisninger som ”Husk, du står midt ude i vandet” eller ”Nu skal alle herrerne være oppe af vandet”, fik vi endelig i denne uge lejlighed til på scenen at prøve the real thing

Slangerne blev rullet ud og bassinet blev fyldt til randen med litervis af veltemperet vand. Alle måtte vi en tur i baljen. Herrer og damer fra koret iført de til lejligheden indkøbte sorte eller hvide gummistøvler.

Med en snedig reference til Venedig (og Den store badedag?) lader den græske instruktør Yannis Houvardas og scenografen Herbert Murauer handlingen i Giulietta-akten af Hoffmanns eventyr bl. a. udspille sig i – og hold nu fast i badevingen – et ca. otte gange fem meter stort vandbassin.

Og en hel del vandpjaskeri bliver det til i løbet af operaens tredje akt og prolog. Solisterne og vi fra koret har rig lejlighed til at få væltet os godt og grundigt rundt i poolen i den efterhånden meget nøje indstuderede scenegang. Iført pels kravler Giulietta rundt i vandet, Schlemil falder i det, og til sidst lægger Hoffmann sig helt fladt ned på ryggen i vandet – alt i mens der synges naturligvis.


Det er en meget anderledes, men spændende scenografi. Kom selv og tjek scenariet ud, der bedst lader sig beskrive som en biograf med eget babybassin.

Og selvom der blot er ca. syv centimeter vand i Operaens nye indendørs swimmingpool, forhindrer det på ingen måde bølgerne i ind i mellem at gå højt.



....................................................... [*Fotos: Miklos Szabo, DKTs hjemmeside]

Ole Jegindø Norup