Broken pieces, broken lives

Wozzeck, opera Bastille, Friday oct the 2nd. Last performance.
Marthaler's old production has proved its efficiency though completely different from what Alban Berg wrote for his opera. Here it is set in one spot,a cafeteria which could be in a hyper market opening on a chidren's playground,with people, children, coming and going. what has vanished is the water element, so important in the libretto adapted from Georg Büchner's play, where Marie will disappear stabbed by her obsessed companion and father of her son, where Wozzeck and his knife will sink, where the doctor and the officer will take their last evening stroll, not giving one single thought to these poor souls they had utterly persecuted when they were alive.
This warehouse of all the human flaws,injuries,breaks and deaths, is in fact a strong concentration of modern despair,the music going very well with its dreadful design. Atonality, jumping sounds, high sharp notes played on violins or strong rhapsodic drummings, cries,laughters, that special utterances neither sung nor talked, all contributed to this desperate picture of humanity.
Wozzeck was the French baritone Vincent Le Texier. He had the look of the character and his dark voice not really resounding could fit that depressed and obsessed hero , who is constantly humiliated by his fellow men. Marie is no longer in love with him, she can feel he is so much disturbed that she can no longer help him, being herself at the bottom of the scale, not a married woman with child. So humiliation and obsessions are their share. Waltraud Meier gave the role a stunning interpretation, whatwith her looks and voice. She had that modern appearance of being worn out by life, and yet had deep sincere outburts towards that child of theirs who behaves like an autistic child, in such an alianated world. I must admit that seeing her sitting in that bleak cafe light, in jeans and white shirt, short hair and rather heavy make-up on, made me feel upset and uneasy and when she decides, like after all, she could not care less, to go out with the Drum Major, she had an incredible look, the orchestral thundering tells us the end of that story, with the child waiting for his Mum, opposite the door where she disappeared with the Drum Major. Very bleak atmosphere where voices are reaching amazing heights . They were all very good. I had only listened to the Maderna opera film with Sena Jurinac as Marie. What I discovered that night was really extremely convincing.The Drum Major was Stefan Margita with an amazing look, a cross between Nigel Kennedy and Elton Jones! He was excellent in his macho-pig role. and extreme urban violence. The last scene has an orchestral interlude which at that point of the action made me sob. I realised it was a requiem for our human condition ridden by sex, violence, humiliation and alianation. The children are the last ones to be heard and seen singing, telling that poor child what he had to know about his dead Mum, kids lost in a world where adults cannot look after them, cannot give them love. (It is the last picture when the curtain is falling. Like a schoolroom. Tragic end). There was heavy silence before a thunder of applause.
Apart from three silent periods (corresponding to the end of acts) it had been non-stop for more than an hour and a half. Atonality is fascinating. I knew it because I have already listened to Pierre Boulez conducting extracts from Pierrot Lunaire some years ago.
It took me quite a while to move and get out of Bastille . I was relieved when I met some friends and came back on firm ground. I needed a glass of wine.