The electronic info screen in the underground showed me a very interesting statistic yesterday:
10,000 people living in Germany are over the age of 100!
This is incredible! I knew Germany had an ageing population, but I did not know that so many people living here were born in 1908 or earlier.
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19 February 2008
Henry Moore and the Countryside Exhibition
'Henry Moore und die Landschaft' at Opelvillen in Rüsselsheim from 7.11.07 to 30.3.08
Entrance: €6, €4 concs
Entrance: €6, €4 concs
On Saturday 16 February I visited the Henry Moore exhibition at the Opel Villa in Ruesselsheim about 30 minutes by train outside Frankfurt am Main. It was not what I had expected or secretly hoped for. Not for the first time, I was taken in by the advertising posters. These showed sheep grazing under a huge undulating organic metal form created by the Yorkshire lad. Forever the optimist, I looked forward to ambling about a huge green field dotted with such swirling forms and even the odd baaing sheep. Although pessimists enjoy immunity from disappointment, I still prefer revelling in my optimism while it lasts. At the exhibition my expectations gradually merged into the reality and, all in all, it was great to see some of Moore's works 'in the flesh' for the first time. So let's just focus on what was on view...
Around eight reclining figures were on display over the Villa's two floors, all of them so much smaller than the one with the sheep - indeed; they were actually smaller than a single adult sheep. And the numerous maquettes, small bone-like forms waiting to hatch like eggs into bigger things, were quite a bit smaller than lambs. Apart from that, I was mildly surprised to find the walls hung with dozens of two-dimensional artworks by the master sculptor. These were very abstract, for me, not as interesting as what they must ultimately have inspired; the three-dimensional forms themselves.
Moore explained that there are three basic positions for the human body: standing, sitting and lying. He saw that the reclining position afforded the sculptor the most freedom of form. Standing positions are limited and seated positions always require some sort of seat, whereas lying offers a countless number of possibilities - just try and count the times you readjust your body as you lie tossing and turning in bed one night and you’ll get what he means. I gleaned this information from one of the information posters – be warned that these were only in German!
You were allowed to touch the metal sculptures - run your hand along the smooth surfaces and explore the nooks and crannies. However, the two stone sculptures were off-limits. Now, I cannot recall the exact forms I saw in my head, they are not easily remembered like flat images, nor for that matter classical statues. The beauty of Moore's scluptures are that they change form and meaning as you circle around them. Wave upon twirl of raw lava flicker and cast shadows here and then there. You think you see a human resemblance and then you move on and you see the sheer face of a cliff.
The most interesting sketches for me were a series of details of an elephant skull. Taken as a whole an elephant skull is a complex feat of nature, but focusing on individual sections, as Moore does, only increases the wonder. A single curve on the cranium could be an old bent tree trunk. Moore was certainly dealing with the forces of nature and what more mighty and symbolic than an elephant.
Finally, there was a twenty minute film in which Moore discusses his work. Opel Villa does not seem too concerned about catering for non-German speaking visitors: the film was overdubbed in German. Even so, there were breaks in which Moore's Yorkshire accent could be heard uninterrupted. He came across as a very amiable and wise old gentleman. It was from 1981 when Moore was 83, so a little dated, but it was interesting to hear from the sculptor himself (he died in 1986). You saw him driving around his field of sculptures in Perry Green! And in his workshop surrounded by old bits of wood, stones and boney parts.
But where did Moore really learn how to sculpt such curves, oh! such curves? Well, his mother suffered from rheumatism and she gave her seventh child, young Henry, the privilage of rubbing oil onto her back. Ten-year-old Henry was a little embarassed, but he sure did learn from the top. What is more curvaceous than a woman's shoulder blades and the long sweep down to her round buttocks?
The exhibition certainly whetted my appetite for Moore. I look forward to seeing some of his really huge works. Of course, Sheep Piece at Perry Green, Hertfordshire, England, is the top of my list.
Around eight reclining figures were on display over the Villa's two floors, all of them so much smaller than the one with the sheep - indeed; they were actually smaller than a single adult sheep. And the numerous maquettes, small bone-like forms waiting to hatch like eggs into bigger things, were quite a bit smaller than lambs. Apart from that, I was mildly surprised to find the walls hung with dozens of two-dimensional artworks by the master sculptor. These were very abstract, for me, not as interesting as what they must ultimately have inspired; the three-dimensional forms themselves.
Moore explained that there are three basic positions for the human body: standing, sitting and lying. He saw that the reclining position afforded the sculptor the most freedom of form. Standing positions are limited and seated positions always require some sort of seat, whereas lying offers a countless number of possibilities - just try and count the times you readjust your body as you lie tossing and turning in bed one night and you’ll get what he means. I gleaned this information from one of the information posters – be warned that these were only in German!
You were allowed to touch the metal sculptures - run your hand along the smooth surfaces and explore the nooks and crannies. However, the two stone sculptures were off-limits. Now, I cannot recall the exact forms I saw in my head, they are not easily remembered like flat images, nor for that matter classical statues. The beauty of Moore's scluptures are that they change form and meaning as you circle around them. Wave upon twirl of raw lava flicker and cast shadows here and then there. You think you see a human resemblance and then you move on and you see the sheer face of a cliff.
The most interesting sketches for me were a series of details of an elephant skull. Taken as a whole an elephant skull is a complex feat of nature, but focusing on individual sections, as Moore does, only increases the wonder. A single curve on the cranium could be an old bent tree trunk. Moore was certainly dealing with the forces of nature and what more mighty and symbolic than an elephant.
Finally, there was a twenty minute film in which Moore discusses his work. Opel Villa does not seem too concerned about catering for non-German speaking visitors: the film was overdubbed in German. Even so, there were breaks in which Moore's Yorkshire accent could be heard uninterrupted. He came across as a very amiable and wise old gentleman. It was from 1981 when Moore was 83, so a little dated, but it was interesting to hear from the sculptor himself (he died in 1986). You saw him driving around his field of sculptures in Perry Green! And in his workshop surrounded by old bits of wood, stones and boney parts.
But where did Moore really learn how to sculpt such curves, oh! such curves? Well, his mother suffered from rheumatism and she gave her seventh child, young Henry, the privilage of rubbing oil onto her back. Ten-year-old Henry was a little embarassed, but he sure did learn from the top. What is more curvaceous than a woman's shoulder blades and the long sweep down to her round buttocks?
The exhibition certainly whetted my appetite for Moore. I look forward to seeing some of his really huge works. Of course, Sheep Piece at Perry Green, Hertfordshire, England, is the top of my list.
08 February 2008
The Queen of Spades
On Saturday 26 January I saw 'The Queen of Spades' by Tchaikovsky at the new opera house in Frankfurt am Main. It was only the second opera I have seen, but I was very impressed.
The production was immaculate and the highs and lows ebbed and flowed deliciously.
It was sung in Russian and had German sub(top)titles. The music was solemn and measured, perfectly fitting the lurking threat of death that haunted the characters.
Officer Hermann, the main character, is a heavy gambler and a wild man, full of passion. On first sight he falls in love with Lisa, the granddaughter of a countess known as the Queen of Spades. However, Lisa is already engaged to the buoyant Prince Yeletsky. Hermann is in despair when he finds out - he believes that he is far too poor to compete for the fair Lisa. His officer friends taunt him and tell him the story of the old countess. Her fortune is said to be based on the secret of three dead-cert winning cards: 'tri karty! tri karty! tri karty!' A refrain oft repeated throughout the piece.
Frank van Aken is perfect for the role of Hermann. He staggers around the stage with the weight of the world on his shoulders and rages against the elements, memorably in a flashing thunderstorm. It was van Aken, incidently, who played Laca, another desperate aggressive lover in the other opera I saw here, 'Jenufa'.
Lisa performed by Anja Kampe, certainly has the innocent desire to do good. Just as Jenufa, she is cast as the embodiment of purity. Lisa falls for the raw passion of Hermann over the take-it-or-leave it attitude of Yeletsky. For me there was something missing in her character. She was too much the simple object of purity. She just did not emit enough emotion, her facial expression seemed too rigid - neither loving, nor despairing.
You can see that Michael Nagy has fun playing the happy-go-lucky Prince Yeletsky and he provides a great foil to the brooding Hermann. I really enjoyed his lighter mercurial lines which came as some relief from the melancholic mood.
The importance of the military and its traditions in late 19th century Russian life was powerfully evoked as the stage was often filled with rows of soldiers in blue uniform. And the codes of courage and strength clearly shine through all that jolly cameraderie. Pistols abound and game upon game of Russian roulette is gleefully played with little concern for the dead losers who have to be dragged out of the way.
Finally, the stage set and choreography of the characters really made the piece. Four huge square arches were lined up in a row on the stage. On one side they were shiny, which made the lightening scene, and on the other dark. The action took place under this forboding monolith and to make the characters seem even more fragile and pawn like, the pillars were set on a circular rotating stage. One of the huge backdrops showed a fine bearded man, perhaps representing Hermann. In a later scene, this was turned upside down to reveal a grinning skull!
The set was both modern and minimalist, yet also strangely classical. The statue of a bright red gorilla with raised fist was hardly out of place. It reflected the raw brutal animal urges of Hermann. When the statue smashed into pieces on the floor, it was not a good sign. To see something like this live... well it was so much more powerful and real than any Hollywood special effects.
Overall, a fantastic performance that carried Tchaikovsky's self-declared 'masterpiece' off with great applomb. He must have been smiling in his grave.
The production was immaculate and the highs and lows ebbed and flowed deliciously.
It was sung in Russian and had German sub(top)titles. The music was solemn and measured, perfectly fitting the lurking threat of death that haunted the characters.
Officer Hermann, the main character, is a heavy gambler and a wild man, full of passion. On first sight he falls in love with Lisa, the granddaughter of a countess known as the Queen of Spades. However, Lisa is already engaged to the buoyant Prince Yeletsky. Hermann is in despair when he finds out - he believes that he is far too poor to compete for the fair Lisa. His officer friends taunt him and tell him the story of the old countess. Her fortune is said to be based on the secret of three dead-cert winning cards: 'tri karty! tri karty! tri karty!' A refrain oft repeated throughout the piece.
Frank van Aken is perfect for the role of Hermann. He staggers around the stage with the weight of the world on his shoulders and rages against the elements, memorably in a flashing thunderstorm. It was van Aken, incidently, who played Laca, another desperate aggressive lover in the other opera I saw here, 'Jenufa'.
Lisa performed by Anja Kampe, certainly has the innocent desire to do good. Just as Jenufa, she is cast as the embodiment of purity. Lisa falls for the raw passion of Hermann over the take-it-or-leave it attitude of Yeletsky. For me there was something missing in her character. She was too much the simple object of purity. She just did not emit enough emotion, her facial expression seemed too rigid - neither loving, nor despairing.
You can see that Michael Nagy has fun playing the happy-go-lucky Prince Yeletsky and he provides a great foil to the brooding Hermann. I really enjoyed his lighter mercurial lines which came as some relief from the melancholic mood.
The importance of the military and its traditions in late 19th century Russian life was powerfully evoked as the stage was often filled with rows of soldiers in blue uniform. And the codes of courage and strength clearly shine through all that jolly cameraderie. Pistols abound and game upon game of Russian roulette is gleefully played with little concern for the dead losers who have to be dragged out of the way.
Finally, the stage set and choreography of the characters really made the piece. Four huge square arches were lined up in a row on the stage. On one side they were shiny, which made the lightening scene, and on the other dark. The action took place under this forboding monolith and to make the characters seem even more fragile and pawn like, the pillars were set on a circular rotating stage. One of the huge backdrops showed a fine bearded man, perhaps representing Hermann. In a later scene, this was turned upside down to reveal a grinning skull!
The set was both modern and minimalist, yet also strangely classical. The statue of a bright red gorilla with raised fist was hardly out of place. It reflected the raw brutal animal urges of Hermann. When the statue smashed into pieces on the floor, it was not a good sign. To see something like this live... well it was so much more powerful and real than any Hollywood special effects.
Overall, a fantastic performance that carried Tchaikovsky's self-declared 'masterpiece' off with great applomb. He must have been smiling in his grave.
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