The eccentrically compelling burlesque La Grand Macabre is a milestone in modern music theatre played at the Elbphilharmonie hall
Le Grand Macabre
Elbphilharmonie hall, Hamburg
György Ligeti’s eccentrically compelling burlesque Le Grand Macabre, with an overture played by 12 car horns, and here sung in English, is a milestone in modern music theatre, and it explored the full potential of Hamburg’s stunning new Elbphilharmonie hall.
Like London’s Barbican, the Elbphilharmonie was a project that first became known for industrial disputes, delays and cost over-runs, with, in Hamburg’s case, an increase from the original budget of €270 million to a final bill of €800 million.
But, unlike the Barbican, what Hamburg ended up with is a truly spectacular multi-tiered hall with great acoustics that allowed this complex show, with singers everywhere in the auditorium, to be performed with no amplification whatsoever.
Werner Van Mechelen sinks his teeth into Heidi Melton as Mescalina in György Ligeti’s eccentrically compelling burlesque Le Grand Macabre
The Elbphilharmonie was built on an old coffee warehouse, the huge walls of which are retained, with the two concert halls – one seating 2,100 people, the other 550 – perched on top, encased in a stunning display of modern architecture at its finest.
The main hall not only affords concert-goers excellent sightlines, but outside there are extraordinary views of Hamburg’s harbour and waterways complex, so stunning that in two years the hall has sold two million tickets, but the visitors, who just come in to look at the views, now number ten million.
London’s Barbican Hall has never really satisfied anyone, which is why the London Symphony Orchestra’s music director, Sir Simon Rattle, wants a new one, which is to be put on a traffic island currently occupied by the Museum of London.
The Elbphilharmonie was built on an old coffee warehouse, the huge walls of which are retained, with the two concert halls perched on top
A dreadful site that will offer none of the joys of the Elbphilharmonie. If Rattle and his supporters can’t find an equally extraordinary site to that in Hamburg, why bother? Then there’s the small matter of paying for it; Rattle’s team has no serious cash.
Ligeti, one of 20th-century music’s most fascinating gadflies, worked in Hamburg for almost 20 years. Two New Yorkers, the conductor Alan Gilbert and the director Doug Fitch, put this show on in the Big Apple in 2010, and now present it again here.
It should come to London. They both think the Royal Albert Hall would work brilliantly.
Afterwards, my eyes and ears were full of so many weird and wonderful sounds and images – there’s also an entr’acte for 16 cycle bells, for instance – but one stands out for me.
The British tenor Andrew Dickinson as the White Minister suddenly sings ‘Brexit’, and the orchestra pelts him with white plastic balls. Sort of sums it all up, doesn’t it?