Propheten, composed by Kurt Weill, text by Franz Werfel "'A scriptural action in modern times' from Act 4 of Der Weg der Verheissung" Devised by David Drew, supplementary orchestration by Noam Sherriff UK premiere (world premiere Konzerthaus, Vienna, 28 May 1998) The Rabbi Kurt Azesburger The thirteen-year-old Julian Becker The estranged one Michael Mellinger Isaiah/Angel of the end of time Neil Jenkins Jeremiah/Voice of Solomon Albert Dohmen The adversary Christopher Gillett A woman Susan Hampton Hananiah Harry Nicoll Pashur/King's Messenger/Watchman Ethan Freeman Zedekiah Wolf Kahler Ebed Melech Anthony Marber The dark angel Stuart MacIntyre First white angel Andrew Murgatroyd Second white angel Robert Johnston Rachel Janice Watson Conductor Matthew Bamert BBC Symphony Orchestra BBC Symphony Chorus, Finchley Children's Music Group Act 4 of Der Weg der Verheissung formed a coda in modern (as opposed to scriptural) time to the first three acts, which recount the history of the Jewish people up to the reign of Solomon. Der Weg der Verheissung was conceived in 1933 as a fundraiser in the United Stated for Zionist projects. A collaboration between Weill, Werfel, and Max Reinhardt, it had a complex development, and act 4 didn't make the final production in New York in 1938. The first three acts were a great success, but with Reinhardt involved the production was so wildly expensive it failed to make any money for the cause it was intented to support. Politically and spiritually, however, it makes a powerful case against persecution of all kinds and for a Jewish homeland in particular. In a synagogue "in a time of persecution", the rabbi reads the scriptures to a thirteen-year-old boy who longs for the Messiah. The boy's father, who has renounced his religion but wishes to return, sits nearby and is the nominal audience for what follows. Isaiah and Jeremiah each recount their visions, one peaceful and utopian, the other tragic. Jeremiah goes through the streets, observing and denouncing the adversary (who sells gods) and Hananias the false prophet, and incurring the wrath of the people. He then confronts king Zedekiah, and is imprisoned. Zedakiah is destroyed because he will not humble himself, and the modern community calls again on the Messiah. A vision of the end of time is interrupted by the (modern) king's messenger, who tells the people that they must leave. A final celebratory vision of the temple of Solomon, with an infectious and thoroughly singable setting of psalm 47, "Ye nations, clap your hands", is interrupted again by the real-world watchman, an ironic match to the one invoked by Isaiah at the beginning. He tells them that they must leave, but the boy and his father stand by the rabbi to await their fate. Propheten uses the theatrical components of the Bach passions, including a tenor narrator quoting scripture, a double chorus representing the mob, and an extra treble chorus, and arias based on scripture. There are explicit echoes, for example, when the chorus sings Steinigt ihn to a setting similar to Lass ihm kreutzigen. But the theatrical presentation is typically Rheinhardt; there are layers of staging, with the modern characters at the front and the scriptural characters on towers (different areas of the choir in the Albert Hall). And the music is Berlin theatre going on Broadway rather than operatic. Jeremiah's satirical/tragic vision is communicated in melodies similar to those in Mahagonny, for example. The orchestration seems prosaic at times, possibly because there wasn't enough sketched in for Noam Sherriff to go on, but also perhaps because Weill was aiming for a Broadway style already and hadn't got the hang of it. The main values of this performance weren't musical, though there was some fine singing, especially from Kurt Azesburger as the rabbi, Albert Dohmen as Jeremiah, and a surprisingly resonant, and sinister, Christopher Gillett as the adversary. The theatre worked remarkably well in the hall, and I found the end, with the vision of civilized happiness blown away and the boy's final gesture of steadfastness, to be very moving. Der Weg der Verheissung was written before the Holocaust. It represents a tragic summary of a history of persecution, not a response to events that even in 1937 might have seemed an insane nightmare rather than a realistic possibility, and it looks history in the eye and demands better. Henri Dutilleux' Shadows of time, composed in 1996 and performed at the Proms on 22 July, can only deal with reflections and glances at the truth. After an opening of aggressive virtuoso brass, "maleficient Ariel" evokes the spirit of hatred darting about the city. The deeply moving third movement includes a child's voice (beatifully sung by Edward Burrowes) asking "pourquoi nous? pourquoi l'etoile?", an explicit evocation of Anne Frank. A movement of flickering flames, possibly those of a burning city or the death chambers, follows and the work concludes with an uncomfortable and uncentred question, "Dominante bleu?". An emerging, unstated, theme in these proms about power and politics is the point of view of children, both their joyful hopes and their fear and despair. As well as the boys in Propheten and The shadows of time, to some extent that was there in Falstaff, as well, in his endless quest for fun. It also appeared in the second half of tonight's concert, Mahler's fourth symphony, which expresses a series of gently ironic visions of happiness, ending with Das himmlische Leben, a child's vision of heaven which is just like a village with plenty to eat and jolly music. There's too much opera and music theatre at the start of the season, but there's also some excellent programming this year.