Emociones Vocales del Futuro – Avant-garde vocalisation at it's finest

“Emociones vocales del futuro” is a project by VocaalLab, the Netherlands based international workspace for avant-garde vocal music; collaborating with the Teatro Real and the CMDC with an international group of exciting young singers, this unusual workshop concluded with a set of performances in the Sala Gayarre at the top of Madrid's Teatro Real.
More than just a musical anthology of contemporary vocal music showcasing new talent, “Emociones vocales del futuro” is a strong piece of performance art which stands alone. With modern classics such as Schönberg's “Der buch der Hängenden gärten” and Kagel's “Turm zu Babel”, a libretto translated from a Biblical fragment into various languages, performed in: English, French, Dutch, Greek and Hebrew; but also includes the work of contemporary composers such as Hungary's György Kurtág and the Spanish Álvaro Martínez León, performed in conjunction with movement, creative staging and intense expression.
The first act sets the scene for a party: the singers sport champagne glasses and elegant attire with the concert piano as the social hub. The performance leads you in slowly to the familiar grounds of traditional opera staging, where motion is generic and limited to embraces and dramatic strolls across the stage; but the dynamic evolves as random movements become prevalent and choreographed sign language flows into a sexual and maddened frenzy. Traditional vocal techniques expand using motion of the body with a conscious ability to enhance and constrict sound to push the limitations of the human voice further. The singers display their versatile talent with acrobatic contortions and sensual motion; a departure from the traditional statuesque poses taken up by most classical singers, exampled by the multi-talented Laura Bohn who belts out Schönberg with a great virtuosity, before crawling up the wall like an inverted arachnid. The act climaxes as the singers propel the grand piano across the floor into the doorway behind the stage, swinging and climbing from it with bacchanal intoxication.



A mental institution stages the next act, allowing absolute free reign in the anything goes territory. Vocal experimentation goes beyond standard singing to explore the uncharted art form breathing, clicking and throat singing. Motion still dominates as spanish soprano Carolina Barca gives a breathtaking rendition of Luciano Berio's Sequenza III, with the voice amplified, distorted and controlled using the cupping of the hands and the positions of the body in fluid movements projecting madness. Frantic insanity is coupled later with the short, post-modern brevity of the Hungarian piece “Tandoori-leider” composed by Kurtág and with a passionate performance by Bolivian lyric-soprano, Sara Sabag, accompanied by a haunting lone violin. “Le voisin d'en face” by Spanish composer Álvaro Martínez León closes the performance as a complete departure from classical singing, as an exploration of breathing and moans in the context of music, exploding like orgy in an asylum, going above and beyond the usual vocal expectations and cutting all boundaries and performed a cappella.
Individual pieces from various composers in several languages linked together by effective staging, with an excellent range and talent of singers who not only give a stunning vocal rendition but also breathtaking choreography and raw expression makes “Emociones vocales del futuro” a unique show. At times, some things appear gratuitous, which is a common pitfall in art with an edge, fortunately while some of the choreography seemed random, the majority was not without meaning. As with all avant-garde work, this project is an acquired taste and best suited to those seeking an experience which lingers on the fringes of modernity and convention. “Emociones vocales del futuro” is not an opera nor a recital, but a multimedia of art forms.

Current exhibitions at the CaixaForum

For some reason Sundays mean art days, not just for me but for the rest of Madrid apparently. After having spent the entire morning in bed in my PJs I felt almost disgusted with myself. I walked to the room next door and asked my flatmate if she wanted to go out, maybe check out a new exhibition. She thought it a splendid idea since she had spent the whole weekend in bed (such a house of sloths). A new impressionist exhibition has opened up in the Fundación Mapfre carrying great works of art from the Museé D'Orsay in Paris. Since it's free and looks interesting we decided to head out there and check it out.

However as soon as we got off the bus we shook our heads in disbelief wondering if an epic rock concert was taking place next door since there was a line of people going round the block. We crossed over the Paseo del Recoletos to find that the queue was indeed for the Impressionist exhibition. Certain art exhibits in Madrid have almost rock-star status and it's necessary to buy a ticket in advance to go (if it is a paid one) or to queue or go when the exhibit has been on for a long time. I remember I had to buy my Van Gogh ticket a week in advance for the exhibition two years ago a the Thyssen and I never managed to get into the Sorolla exhibit despite trying three times.

My flatmate and I looked at each other and discussed a contingency plan. Sitting in a bar or café was not a constructive thing to do so we thought we could try something else. The Prado is free on Sunday, so could try there. Again, a ruddy great queue. Lagrimas de Eros exhibition at the Thyssen? Good but I had already seen it and didn't particularly want to pay to see it again.

"What about the CaixaForum?" She said. I remembered having looked at the program and nothing caught my interest, but their exhibits are free and hence better than nothing. We walked on down the Paseo del Prado until we came to this post-modern art gallery funded by Spain's biggest bank.



The had 3 exhibitions on: one about Andrea Palladio - a famous Renaissance Italian architect, Hannah Collins - current History, and Maternities. I took one look at the Maternities brochure and recoiled in horror. I am not the kind of person who goes gaga over kids and motherhood is a concept which sends fear down my spine. Seeing an exhibition based on the gooey gagas of motherhood was not my idea for entertainment and at this point I was even considering paying for the Lagrimas de Eros exhibition again. My flatmate said "Come on - lets face our fears! Art is supposed to make you uncomfortable!" So we braced ourselves for the Maternities exhibition.



My honest opinion this exhibition generated no emotional reaction in me. The concept by photographer Bru Rovira wanted to show that love and family values could exist in any part of the world no matter how poor or devastated. Even reading the primary blurb made us look at each other and cringe "how corny". It's a concept that while noble has been overdone, almost a cliché now, but if the photography was good and had something to say it would be excused. The exhibition though was rather generic, and looked like they were photos which could have been pulled out of any National Geographic magazine. There would be a long blurb about the story behind the picture and you would look at the picture and it said nothing about the story. It was blank and devoid of a message. I would appreciate it if the message was conveyed, but it wasn't. The photos taken in Europe were more interesting because they were active, you could divulge a story from them. The others were bland.

The next exhibition was interesting: Hannah Collins - Current History. This was an exhibition split in 3 parts of photographic and video media about the life of the gypsies in Barcelona, life in Russia just after Communism and the journey of 3 African refugees to European countries projected on 3 screens. I thought this work was interesting, giving a snap shot of a life that most Europeans don't see. The gypsy one was fascinating as the film followed the life of this family in a slum outside Barcelona who lived a life total alien to what you would normally see. That their existence was based more in family and music and less about material comforts.



The Russian one was the weakest of the three parts. My flatmate found it too far removed from her culture and could not relate to it - just old guys walking staggering round the snow in fur hats drinking vodka. For me, while Russia and Hungary are very different countries, there were a lot of elements I recognised from living in Hungary just a couple of years after communism. If anything for me it seemed to familiar to be interesting to me.

The third section were 3 films shown side by side about African immigrants making their lives in Europe: One moved to London, one to Rome and one to Madrid. The Madrid one was the most interesting, talking about escaping Cameroon on a freight and trying to make a living in Madrid. This guy was homeless, but would wash his clothes in a bucket and leave them to dry in the sun. His appearance was smart as he tried to get legal status and a job in Spain. It was a rather moving piece and put a lot into perspective - that the little things we complain about in our luxurious lives are nothing compared to what other people suffer. It was not an exhibition I would go out of the way to see, but I am glad I did. It gave a lot of food for thought.




We wondered past the entrance for the Palladio exhibition and walked in to see it packed with people. We thought to give it a miss and do it another day, but soon realised that this was the last day for the exhibition. It looked interesting and was worth a skim at least. It chartered the work of architect Andrea Palladio through sketches, photographs and models. His influence on the neo-classical Renaissance style in Italy was very important. The exhibition was very cleverly laid and out and it was such a pity the previous two had saturated us a lot by this point. I am glad I gave it a quick skim.



The thing I like about the CaixaForum is that is gives a wide variety of art and through different media forms. The building itself is also worth having a gander at the architecture which is an interesting mix of cubism, modernism and post-modernism. The inclusion of vegetation into the architectural structure reminds me of the Austrian architect Friedensreich Hundertwasser who incorporated nature into his works.

Opera - Der fliegende Holländer by Richard Wagner

Wagner is back at the Teatro Real with “The Flying Dutchman” or thats “Der fliegende Holländer” in German to you. One of his shorter operas in comparison to the usual five hours I've sat through whenever I've gone to a Wagner opera.

Full of Romantic, 19th century ideals, “The Flying Dutchman” tells the story of a cursed sea-captain doomed to sail the seas for eternity; every seven years he gets a day off when set foot on land, so like every horn-dog sailor he searches for a woman. But the Dutchman is no randy seaman as he he searching for a good wife who will be faithful to him till “death do us apart”, through her loyalty he'll find salvation.

With movie-like titles projected onto the curtain announcing that the opera “Der fliegende Holländer” by Richard Wagner is about to start, the music resonates throughout the auditorium. The opera opens with Act I, set in the North Sea off the coast of Norway. A projection of waves are seen in the background, and the stage is set to look like a modern day Nordic fishing boat – at the moment the setting is simple but effective. Daland, the ships captain, goes off for a nap leaving his helmsman in charge of keeping watch. The tenor, Vincente Ombuena, sings the song of the helmsman which is passionate and lyrical dedicated to his beloved back at home, it is full of nostalgia and longing. The helmsman is not a very good watchman as he falls asleep pretty quickly on duty. While he slumbers a large ship is projected moving into the background to obscure the wave, effective and dramatic effect which moves in time to the music. The large white letters on a rust background fade into view with the words “HOLLANDER” on it, a little bit tacky since it just means “Dutchman” in German, however most people wont know this so this is a forgivable mistake.

Our Dutchman comes on the scene, oddly staged on the platform below despite the little ship being raised above - his ship is supposed to be bigger and therefore wouldn't he be above? Danish baritone Johan Reuter laments his story of damnation to moving lyric of Wagner's music with a strong voice and subtle charisma fitting of this tormented hero. His yearns are convincing and we empathise with his instantly with his woes.

Daland (Hans-Peter König) finds the watchman doing his job; but that's the least of his worries when he sees a great big boat parked right next to him. Daland calls to the alien ship, and its captain reveals himself to be a Dutchman. He makes his big entrance down a rusty plank (again oddly staged since before we saw him down below) and reveals to Daland that he is loaded with precious jewels and gemstones. The Dutchman wastes no time in asking the captain if he has an unmarried daughter, and by the convenience of fiction and drama he: a beautiful, young and single daughter. Daland is a bit struck for cash and agrees that his daughter to be married off to the pale foreigner with the big rusty boat for a packet of gems. The Dutchman is excited at not only about finally getting a woman after years going insane at sea - but more importantly for the loyal wife who would break his curse.

Act II opens with a chorus of women in a fish factory, and a very dreamy looking Senta walks around carrying a little boat with red sails. She is soon joined by Mary, who in this production plays some kind of manager of the factory and suffers an identity crisis of being a young woman who wants to dress like a frumpy matron with terrible clothes and good make up, although German Mezzo-Soprano Nadine Weissman plays the role convincingly considering what she was allowed to work with, but at least her fabulous voice was allowed to shine through.

Senta tells her and the other women about the legend of the Flying Dutchman – this man damned to sail the seas in an eternity in boredom and despair. She naively wishes it to be her destiny to become his loyal wife and salvation – I guess she'll be happy at what Daddy is bringing her home then. German Soprano Anja Kampe sings the ballad with Leitmotiv beautifully and with great clarity, but the attention to her remarkable voice is distracted by a small object moving up on the wires. Even sitting in the 3rd row down in front I had trouble trying to discern what this object was... soon I realised it was a tiny toy boat, and I experienced deja vu back to the Stonehenge scene in This is Spinal Tap – having a spoof heavy metal go off in my brain while I tried to concentrate on Wagner was rather distracting.

Senta's ex Eric (Stephen Gould) over hears her passionate desires and is upset; he tells Senta of his dream that her father came back with a stranger from the sea for her to marry - he should get himself a tent and a crystal ball and charge people money with insightful talent like that. Surprise, surprise – Daland comes home with a new gift for Senta, a brand new husband who she doesn't know, fortunately it's love at first sight between the two. There is little acting or physical interaction between Senta and the Dutchman, but there is chemistry between them which electrifies the air. The look they give each other is genuine, but understated. A curiosity, an interest and a cautiousness between these two strangers. The execution between the two singers is excellent, it is subtle and effective – so why did the director place two extras in the background making out when he had such a talented cast to work with I don't know. I guess he wanted to home in the point they were falling in love, but the effect was cheap. The duet between the Dutchman and Senta is sublime, with the passionate and erotic charge you only get from Wagner's music.

Act III. At this point the director drives me crazy. The curtain is down and the letters ACT III are projected the same as the past two acts, which is fine and clean, but having a random cyclist go across stage shortly followed by a gratuitous Labrador then followed by a group of girls who run after a guy stripping his clothes off; all so contrived and ill fitting to the music. It played no part in the plot or symbolism or music - just pure gimmickry. Also during the storm, already effectively executed by the wonderful chorus, the director sticks random naked women spazzing out behind glass windows in the background, for no reasons other than shock factor. I am not a prude. I do not mind nudity on stage, but if things are just shocking for no reason I find this a show of poor directing, trying to be “avant-guard” for the sake of it. The ending too is poorly staged when you see the Dutchman walk off stage via the rocks, followed by Senta declaring to save him and jumps off the rocks in the same direction – does she jump onto the boat or does she kill herself? It's left too dubious and makes me wonder if the director got confused thinking he was directing Tosca.

Overall musically the show is wonderful, the cast is intensely good and one of the very few productions I have seen where the entire cast is strong, the chorus too did a fantastic job. The music, conducted by Jesús López Cobos is also flawless and raw with emotion, sensuality and drama. Musically this is one of the best productions I have seen in a long time.
The staging – as you may have guessed – annoyed me. It is not the worst production I have seen. The general staging, not including the irrelevant and annoying gimmicks was OK, but just Ok The singers were not made to act, and it was evident that they could. The setting was bland and executed mediocre at best. This is a fascinating story and a lot could be done to bring it out, but it's a sign of poor directing when the only way to follow the show is by keeping up with the subtitles. A pity as I like being able to follow the narrative from the stage and not just from skimming the libretto; the gimmicks just added insult to injury.

Overall I do highly recommend this production – if only for the talented cast and the wonderful music. I thoroughly enjoyed the two and a half hours of this production, but there is no interval so don't drink too much before going in. Definitely a must to check out if you are a Wagner fan or even new to Wagner as this is a nice introduction to the maestro.


Dates:14,15,17,19,20,22,23,24,26,27,28 of January
Location: Teatro Real, Plaza Oriente
Transport:Metro line 5,line 2, R (Opera) or line 1, line 3(Sol)
Prices:Without discount (16€-151€) ages 26 or under at last minute tickets get 90% off!