Intuition and Trust

The general director at La Monnaie, Peter de Caluwe, on the tasks, casting politics, culture of conversation, philosophy and identity of a house which he regards as the “opera of the European capital”

 

Mr de Caluwe, La Monnaie is the first ever “Opera House of the Year” outside a German-speaking country. Does that fact affect the value of the award for you?

Certain factors are the same for us as for a German opera house, of course – the award has an effect on the audience and a motivating impact internally. But apart from that the decision to bestow the “Opera House of the Year” award on La Monnaie did actually have a special significance. I always found it important to emphasise that we are a European opera house – the opera house for the capital of Europe. In this respect Germany and France belong as much to Brussels as we belong to Germany and France. For this reason, I believe that we have a very special task to fulfil; my predecessors Gerard Mortier and Bernard Foccroulle were already interested in using artistic means to illustrate how the diverse national expressions of European culture produce a functioning, harmonic whole, without losing the distinctive quality of individual voices. In order to ensure this we must continue developing this shared inheritance in a collective process, because there is no other way of expressing the ongoing exploration of great works. I believe that La Monnaie’s function as a European role model will become increasingly important. The word Brussels generally has such negative connotations – people think of bureaucracy and frenzied regulation. For this reason, it’s all the more important to prove that the opposite is true.

La Monnaie is not only the opera house of the European capital, but also of the Belgian capital – a country that needs positive role models at least as much as the EU.

My favourite concept for La Monnaie is that we have to be a vitrine culturelle, a shop window onto Europe, but also looking from Europe onto Belgium. The signals that we send out with our productions work in both directions, simply because the problems experienced in Belgium are the same as those experienced in Europe as a whole, just on a smaller scale. I would even claim that it is advantageous – key European themes become much clearer in Belgium, as if they are seen through a magnifying glass. Let’s take the question of identity, which is the central issue explored in our 2011/12 season. Identity is a complex matter for us Belgians because it cannot be simply resolved by language. I am Flemish, for example, and I lived in Amsterdam for a long time, where the language is the same as in Flanders. Yet the Flemish are Latinate people who have been influenced by a different religion. That is why there is a far more passionate relationship to opera here than in the Netherlands.

Were the two most important productions in the previous season, Wagner’s Parsifal and its antithesis, Meyerbeer’s Huguenots, planned as opera with a political dimension? The themes raised in the operas – on the one hand a society with no leadership, on the other a battle between hostile peoples – lead one to suppose that this is the case.

Of course you can interpret it that way after the fact, but I don’t think that opera is responsible for supplying definitive commentaries on everyday political events. Our task is to ask fundamental questions and communicate ideas which help people become aware of their own opinions. If people take that away with them, even if they weren’t all that impressed with a production, I feel I’ve achieved my goal. Even if we have to make certain concessions towards the audience’s need to be entertained, I maintain that we receive subsidies in order to play a role in society. That role does not involve us acting as politicians, but rather addressing issues which are dealt with by great works in a timeless fashion. Stories like that of Medea, Oedipus, or the Huguenots are still valid today, but we need to keep on being reminded of them. For one thing, they are one of the factors uniting Europe. Europe shares a culture, but its politics and economics have not yet merged. And one central aspect of this culture involves creating an understanding of the complexities of conflict by theatrical means. What could be more up to date than Medea? A woman who comes here from Central Asia, learns to adapt and is rejected by society – what’s up with her, what does she do? And also, how tolerant are we ourselves? Incidentally, I can tell by the serious discussions after works like Parsifal that these messages are reaching their target.

From that perspective, the message of a work like Les Huguenots is not about generating sympathy with the characters, but about showing the collective intoxication of violence, which broke out recently, for example, in riots in the United Kingdom.

Yes, that’s why when people were discussing the production afterwards, rather than recalling individual characters they remembered this collective feeling that embraced everyone involved like a giant wave.

Opera as a moral institution?

Ever since I’ve been going to the opera, visiting an opera house has felt like something of a sacred act – ritually engaging with oneself. I think this function is even more important nowadays than it used to be, firstly because there are hardly any institutions left which propound values credibly, and secondly because it has now become virtually impossible to have a collective experience of this kind, even if people’s opinions differ. Figuratively speaking, it is an analogy for a functional democracy. In contrast to football there are no winners and losers here.

To what extent were last season’s productions related to the theme of tolerance?

The programme was conceived along three lines. In addition to the Parsifal–Huguenots axis there was the juxtaposition of Kát’a Kabanová and Mozart’s La Finta giardiniera, as well as a block comprising Nabucco and Intolleranza. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out with Intolleranza. Christoph Schlingensief’s production was supposed to appear in Hungary first and then be presented in Brussels to mark the start of the Hungarian EU presidency, alternating with a concert performance of Nabucco. But then a new government took charge in Hungary and was no longer interested in showing a work which was critical of xenophobia.

You have very definite ideas about the message that the works convey. That can lead to potential for conflict with the directors.

Absolutely – I have an idea about the way a production could turn out if I entrust it to a particular director. But sometimes something completely different comes out of it. My main rule is, once I’ve delegated a work, then it’s no longer in my hands. As the general director I make my statement via the programme; directors and conductors know what they’re doing by themselves.

Nevertheless, there’s an enormous difference between hiring a professional director such as Olivier Py and an artist like Romeo Castellucci, whose first ever opera production was Parsifal.

That’s why I wouldn’t ask Py to do Parsifal or Castellucci to take on Les Huguenots. You don’t really need to worry about whether someone like Py will deliver on time. Working with a fine artist is totally different, because he creates images and doesn’t really initially consider time constraints or the technical processes involved in staging opera. It’s an approach which challenges us as an opera house in a different manner. However, an artist can compensate with certain other qualities.

It’s possible to interpret your repertoire in an entirely different way. Not merely as an exploration of certain themes, but also as a balancing act between French and German taste, under the particular influence of the Belgian theatre scene.

When I arrived at La Monnaie I started setting up a “family” of artists from around Europe: Stefan Herheim, Andrea Breth, Deborah Warner. I was following in the footsteps of my predecessors Gerard Mortier and Bernard Foccroulle, who also set up their own “families” – Mortier with the Herrmanns, Luc Bondy and Patrice Chéreau; Fouccroulle, for example, had directors such as Antonio Pappano and Kazushi Ono. Generally speaking, I think it’s important for an opera house to present several different styles. I found Munich under Peter Jonas too one-dimensional, for example, despite some fantastic individual productions. I don’t pass judgement according to national quotas, for one thing because they don’t tell us anything. Andrea Breth actually has no connection with German Regietheater. Is Stefan Herheim a German or Scandinavian director? And when we have good people like Guy Cassiers and Guy Joosten in Belgium, it stands to reason that they should work for us. The idea of a family is more important to me – that conductors, singers and directors like being here, that they feel at ease, that they come back and build upon what they encountered the first time round. And that they value what we have to offer them.

What do you offer that’s so special?

First there’s the stagione system: the whole house concentrates totally on the new production. We’re not a repertoire house; that wouldn’t be possible because we’re not a metropolis to which people flock in order to experience opera. Then there’s the special dynamics of the situation – we’ve always had young chief executives and general directors. That creates a completely different energy. I keep on hearing from artists that this is a prerequisite if you want to do well-known works differently and better. In addition, it’s possible to come here time and time again, at your own pace, and reflect on things. Castellucci, for instance, kept on coming over a period of two years to talk about Parsifal. Rather than seeking a dialogue he wanted to be clear about his aims by talking them over. The focus at La Monnaie is still on the project itself rather than on logistical matters. That creates a sense of calm and depth. Moreover, there’s been a feeling of team spirit here since the Mortier days. We are trying to eradicate pyramidal thinking bit by bit. The number one person can’t dictate everything. Communication can only take place by supporting each and every employee at an artistic level. That’s something I’m noticing now: everyone is pleased with the return of La Fura dels Baus because working on Grand Macabre was such an experience for all concerned. One crucial aspect of this is sharing a beer at the end of the evening, when the hierarchy becomes looser and more transparent.

Something you adopted from your predecessors is that great trouble is often taken with the casting to ensure the performers are a perfect match for the production, both as singers and actors.

I find that logical. Perhaps that is the reason I feel more at ease here than somewhere like Munich, where there is simply the expectation that certain stars will be performing. There is no such compulsion here. In addition, we have the advantage that our house isn’t too large, which makes it easier for us to cast more expressively. For example, I encountered a lot of scepticism when I cast Marlis Petersen as Marguerite in Les Huguenots. People said the role required a weightier voice. But I couldn’t have wished for a better result. Look at Joan Sutherland in the role on YouTube – there’s no trace of the seductive nature of the role. Casting is much more a question of intuition and trust than merely ticking boxes. Nowadays we have a wonderful choice of singers.

Basel was the “Opera House of the Year” before Brussels. Basel, too, is a house which neither has a music director, nor does it use its own orchestra for important productions.

Actually we only perform Baroque music with a special orchestra. We even performed Gluck with Christophe Rousset extremely well with our own orchestra. There’s a new generation of musicians, and over the next ten or fifteen years we’ll possibly be able to provide people to play everything. You can see the same trend in other opera houses.

Nevertheless, it seems to be easier to put together a good programme without a forceful music director.

What does “music director” actually mean? It implies to me someone who is always there. Anyone who stands at the top of a hierarchy has to participate in every decision. On the other hand, it’s good for an orchestra to know that they’re being led by someone who is in demand at the Met or Covent Garden. It strengthens their position and their self-confidence. However, this situation inevitably results in a certain distribution of power: I’m here every day, you can always speak to me, therefore I make all the decisions. As of the coming season we will have Ludovic Morlot at the helm, a musical director who will lead the orchestra through a period of great change in terms of its membership. A significant proportion of the musicians will be retiring in the next few years and have to be replaced. For that they need a leader who understands the chemistry within the orchestra perfectly.

Your first music director, Mark Wigglesworth, was completely rejected by the orchestra. Have you learned something from that disaster?

I certainly underestimated the task in hand. In Amsterdam I liaised with the orchestra, but didn’t have any direct responsibility. The situation was difficult there because principal directors such as Ingo Metzmacher and Edo de Waart always kept their distance from the opera house. It only worked with Hartmut Haenchen because he was on a sure footing as the head of the Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra, a position Marc Albrecht now holds. For that reason I wanted someone who could stay for at least six months in Brussels. The problem was that the orchestra had just fallen head over heels in love with Kazushi Ono. And our orchestra reacts rather sensitively when the chemistry just isn’t right. It’s different with orchestras like the Concertgebouw, where the musicians feel superior to the conductor.

Belgium is one of the Eurozone countries with a high level of debt. One obvious option would be to make cuts in arts funding. How is La Monnaie doing in this respect?

Of course, our philosophy of seeing ourselves as the opera house of the European capital is a way of ensuring that politicians don’t threaten our existence. After all, Belgium also has the Vlaamse Opera and the Opera de Wallonie. Nevertheless, we have had to make some painful cuts in the last few years in order to achieve the necessary savings. It was bad luck that we had to negotiate our budget up until 1913 in 2008/9, during a period of such great financial uncertainty. As a consequence not only did we have to cut back the production budget, but we also had to make some redundancies. In 2000 we had 492 employees, but by 2013 there will only be 422. We had to reduce the choir from fifty to forty members, for example. Of course that’s not great, but given the current situation I don’t think it’s unfair. Out of the 34 million euros we receive in subsidies from the government, 33 million is spent on salaries and operating costs at La Monnaie. In other words, the building is placed at our disposal and we have to ensure that the finances are sufficient to keep going.

Even though appearances can be deceptive, an evening at the opera conjures up the image of luxury and opulence.

Absolutely, and in this respect an opera house is undoubtedly a sign of a healthy society. I have no concerns on that front. People who can afford it always yearn for luxury. Without luxury there is no culture. I find it problematic to say that people are starving in Africa, and therefore we don’t need opera. We in the theatre business can’t help Africa, but a healthy society can – if it so desires. Of course opera is elitist, but the elite has always changed the world and produced new ideas. Opera must influence and challenge this elite in a positive sense. Europe cannot distance itself from an art form that is more European than any other. Otherwise it will lose its own identity.

By Jörg Königsdorf