Benjamin Britten: Death in Venice

The idea of using Death in Venice, the novella by Thomas Mann (1875–1955) as model for an opera had ripened in Britten’s mind for years. He had known the author’s son, Golo Mann, from the United States where he lived during the early years of the Second World War, and promptly received his consent. In September 1970 he commissioned the libretto to Myfanwy Piper (1911–1997) with whom he had already previously collaborated on his operas, The Turn of the Screw, and Owen Wingrave. (The novella’s plot is widely familiar also thanks to Luchino Visconti’s famous film version dating from 1971, starring Dirk Bogarde.) Britten’s last opera, Death in Venice was written at a time when he had to grapple with severe stress, both physical and psychological: he was aware of the inevitability of undergoing a major heart surgery, but kept putting it off until the opera was finished. In its definitive form, the work sums up its composer’s lifelong creative aspirations. Britten most likely identified with the opera’s principal hero, author Gustav von Aschenbach, who becomes aware of his dwindling powers, and tries to find new inspiration in a journey to Venice. Once there, he falls in love with Tadzio, a Polish youth – without, however, actually approaching either the boy himself or his relatives and friends. Britten dealt with the absence of the two protagonists’ contact by assigning them unsung, mime parts, acting to the accompaniment of glittering sounds emitted by melodic percussion instruments resembling Indonesian gamelan music, thereby emphasizing the theme of inapproachability of Tadzio and his company. Britten wrote the part of Aschenbach for his lifelong partner, the tenor Peter Pears, to whom he dedicated the opera. The premiere took place on the stage at Snape Maltings near Aldeburgh, on June 16, 1973, with Sir Peter Pears in the main role. The production was directed by Colin Graham and choreographed by Frederick Ashton, with Stewart Bedford as the conductor. Notwithstanding the overall moderation and economy of the opera’s score, the atmosphere conjured up by Death in Venice is determined overwhelmingly by a sense of recollection of things past, contributing to the whole work’s status as the final accomplishment of Britten’s career as an opera composer.

The Prague State Opera is mounting Death in Venice in co-production with the Aldeburgh Festival, where it was performed on June 8 and 11, 2007, the Bregenz Festival (July 18, 22 and 29, and August 5, 2007), and the Opéra de Lyon (May 2009). The staging’s Japanese director based in Paris, Yoshi Oida, a theatrician with a record of work in the field of the traditional Japanese kyogen theatre, supplied an account characterized by mesmerizing starkness and a fascinating communication between the cultures of the West and East. A considerable share in the production’s success in the United Kingdom and Austria has been due to the plain and timeless stage sets designed by Tom Schenk, Richard Hudson’s costumes evocative of the Edwardian era, and Daniela Kurz’s choreography.

The Czech premiere of Death in Venice is taking place under the auspices of the Ambassador of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland to the Czech Republic, Her Excellency Linda Duffield.

The Czech premiere of Death in Venice is taking place under the auspices of the Ambassador of the Federal Republic of Germany to the Czech Republic, His Excellency Helmut Elfenkämper.

Premiere: Feb 26, 2009

Hilary Griffiths about Death in Venice

My first memories of Benjamin Britten were as a chorister at King’s College, Cambridge. We were making a recording of the St. John’s Passion by Bach, and Peter Pears was singing the Evangelist. Considering his relationship with Pears (and his pleasure at being around young men) it was hardly surprising that he was there, but we only knew of him as the most illustrious British composer of the time. People were already saying, that Pears’ voice was “over the hill”, but listening to that recording now, his artistry and vocal control were absolutely magnificent. As I was growing up, Britten’s music was always present his church music at Cambridge, works suitable for schools later on (Simple Symphony, Saint Nicolas, A Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra) and then the encounters with A War Requiem and the operas. It is difficult to overestimate the effect Peter Grimes had on the musical life of Great Britain. Suddenly there was a composer there who ranked at the very top of the international tree; and this gave other British composers the confidence to express themselves freely, without being tied to the forms and expectations of a provincial “Englishness” that had hampered many during the inter-war years.

My only experience until now of conducting Britten in Prague was a wonderful performance of the War Requiem in the Rudolfinum in 1995 with the FOK (Prague Symphony Orchestra) and the Regensburg Philharmonic Orchestra, although I recently conducted a performance of Peter Grimes in Wuppertal with two singers well-known in Prague, Jan Vacik and Maida Hundeling. I have conducted several other of his operas and many symphonic works (the Sinfonia da Requiem is a special favourite) but this production of Death in Venice will be my first. Steuart Bedford, who conducted the original premiere in 1975 as Britten was very ill at the time, is a great friend, and he has told me much about the first production, particularly about discussions over the structure. Britten originally wanted to run the opera without an interval but decided it would be too much of a strain on Pears in the role of Aschenbach.

The opera was very dear to Britten’s heart he said, it represented everything he and Pears stood for and it is in many ways a summation of his life’s work. For me, one of the most poignant moments is in the introduction to the second act. Whatever musical idea tries to develop, it is always interrupted by the “love motive”, a falling major third, in this case in the pizzicato strings. This major third runs like a beacon through the whole opera, bringing light and colour to a score otherwise full of dark tones and harmonies, showing Britten’s absolute conviction in the ultimate power of love, in all its forms, to override all other considerations. Among the other themes pervading the score are the “Serenissima” theme, first heard on board the ship in the second scene, and then incorporated in the various gondola scenes, and the “Tadzio” theme, built up from the aforementioned major thirds.

Musically the score is characterised by a continuous overlapping of textures, most obviously in the scene in the church, recreating the echoes of the singers, but also in the overture with the effects of the bells of St. Mark’s and the Gabrielli-like brass commentaries that also seem to come from inside the cathedral. These are also found in the “gamelan” music of the percussion section, which often accompany Tadzio, and which had interested Britten since his trip to Bali and Japan in 1956. One must also not forget that Britten was an accomplished pianist. In Death in Venice the piano has a most important part; it accompanies the recitatives when Aschenbach muses on his feelings and analyses his thoughts, it plays with the percussion as part of the gamelan, but also supports the strings and winds with added sonorities and even contributes low bell notes in the most extreme range. Otherwise Britten uses a conventional orchestra with the exception of the percussion. There he specifies six players and around 37 different instruments!

It is well known that Britten, while conducting the world premiere of his opera The Turn of the Screw in Venice, was very attracted to the boy David Hemmings who sang the part of “Miles” (and later became a very successful film actor). This undoubtedly formed a basis for his description of the relationship Aschenbach –Tadzio, and it is also clear that his relationship to Hemmings was purely platonic; Britten was no paedophile, and the opera Death in Venice is not about paedophilia. It is only incidentally about homosexuality, far more about the role of the Artist in society, about creativity and the artistic process, and the dichotomy between the emotional and intellectual sides of the human condition. It seems very appropriate that this score is a distillation of his previous work, eschewing the orchestral extravagance of some of his earlier operas to produce a work that is direct, almost astringent in tone, to convey his final great statement on the operatic stage.