Earlier this month, audiences experienced an impactful rendition of Viktor Ullmann’s opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis, featuring a libretto by Petr Kien.
Ullmann completed this significantly historical work in Ghetto Theresienstadt just before he was sent to his death in Auschwitz-Birkenau.
The performance by the Carmel Quartet and Meitar Ensemble, joined by soloists and conducted by Nir Cohen-Shalit, celebrated the 50th anniversary of the opera’s premiere. The production, translated by Assaf Levitin, also marked the work’s first-ever performance in Hebrew.
This anniversary performance was particularly timely as the Paul Sacher Stiftung foundation in Basel, which holds Ullmann’s archive, recently issued the opera’s complete facsimile, making all available material readily accessible to scholars and performers – a vital development for what Dr. Heidy Zimmermann, a specialist at the foundation, describes as “the only complete opera that has been written and created in a concentration camp.”
Indeed, Ullmann’s work serves as a thinly veiled metaphor for the Nazi regime and remains a harrowing document: a musical depiction of the inner and outer realities that the prisoners in Theresienstadt had to face.
A touching and inspiring event
The production was presented to audiences in several cities. In Tel Aviv, the performance was a touching and musically inspiring event, held before a nearly full house at the Tel Aviv-Jaffa Music Center. The staging was appropriately minimal, resonating with the constraints Ullmann faced. The use of a chamber ensemble only underscored the sense of deprivation inherent in the work’s origins.
Especially effective was the integration of the performers into the opera; they wore bloodstained shirts and occasionally joined in the many spoken passages in the work.
The cast brought compelling energy to the stage. Johnny Bombino as the Emperor “Überall” lived up beautifully to his part, mimicking Hitler’s deranged intonations and cloaked in a majestic cape with only a set of boxers to his waist. Yuri Kissin’s portrayal of Death was impressive in his lower registers. Reut Ventorero is equally gifted as a singer and actress. Daniel Jan Pruzansky and Tali Ketzef, as the soldier and girl, respectively, who choose love over war, were highly convincing. Ketzef’s talent made itself especially apparent in the finale with a beautiful, sharp soprano. Amit Dolberg performed the demanding keyboard parts effortlessly, and Nir Cohen-Shalit was in full command of the score.
Since its premiere, Ullmann’s opera has been recorded and performed several times. But why? According to Prof. Yoel Greenberg, it is “just an exceptionally good composition, a concoction of musical style.”
Ullmann’s opera is sui generis, weaving Kurt Weill cabaret music with ultra-modern Schoenbergian passages. Kien’s brilliant libretto, written on the back of transport documents, is an allegorical denunciation of the Nazi regime, musically complemented by the cynical integration of iconic German themes such as the Deutschland über alles anthem or the Kaiserhymne.
Ultimately, it was this biting satire that prevented the opera from being performed in Theresienstadt. According to Zimmermann, its suppression was “probably a form of self-censorship by the officials of the Jewish self-administration,” as it was clear to the Judenrat that the SS guards would never have tolerated such a blatant subversion.
One of the truly compelling aspects of Ullmann’s opera is its enduring resonance. As Zimmermann clarifies: “It is a manifesto against tyranny and war, and as we can see in recent times, the opera’s message has lost none of its relevance today.”
On October 16, 1944, Ullmann and Kien were deported to Auschwitz. They perished there shortly after arrival.