Ballet: A striking contemporary Kullervo in Helsinki

The Kalevala is the Finnish national epic poem, compiled by a scholar in the 19^th century from myriad oral accounts collected from throughout Finland. It is a strange and gory epic, replete with incest, violence, heroes, and monsters. One portion of the epic deals with Kullervo, who is abused and sold into slavery by his parents, arranges for his abusive foster parents to be torn apart by wolves, rapes a girl who turns out to be his sister, and, consumed with remorse, lays waste to the countryside and finally commits suicide, falling on his implanted sword. All this carnage evokes memories of other Norse legends, Siegfried and the incestuous twins of Die Walküre.

The young Jean Sibelius (1865-1957) set this tale in Kullervo, Op. 7 (1892). The work, previously unfamiliar to me, is a 70 minute orchestral tone poem in the tradition of Liszt, Smetana, and Richard Strauss, who had just completed his inaugural cycle (e.g. Don Juan, Death and Transfiguration).  The five movement structure includes a large orchestra, vocal soloists (Kullervo and his sister) and a primal-sounding male choir singing in unison or octaves. Most of it shows Wagner-influenced post romanticism, but with more overt evocations of nature (e.g. bird songs), as well as primal rhythms, chanting and rhythmic orchestral writing that look ahead to Stravinsky. I liked it better than the more familiar later Sibelius symphonies, whose emotion is dialed down several notches to typical levels of Nordic reserve. The music alone is a little over-long but, set to modernist ballet as was done by the Finnish National Ballet, created a compelling spectacle. Choreographer Tero Saarinen was unknown to me, but has some fame for his angular, expressive dance style, and his company has been admired on its intermittent trips to the US. The choreography looked primitive, rather like the original Rite of Spring choreography by Nijinsky (famously resurrected by the Joffrey Ballet some years ago). No one dances on point; there are athletic jumps, arms flying about akimbo, and intense mime and acting. There were very striking narrative dance gestures, such as at the opening curtain, where we saw rings of dancers running in concentric parallel circles, with only Kullervo running in the opposite direction—the maverick. There are often striking lighting effects that amplify the energy of the dance. 

All of this suited the intense Kullervo story, and the edginess was a great counterpoint to Sibelius’ ripe post-romantic music. You can get a good sense of it on this short trailer  here. It all added up to a stunningly integrated evening of voice, orchestra, and dance. 50 men of the Finnish Opera Chorus sang onstage with impressive resonance and intensity, confirming my stereotypes of great Nordic choral singing. 

I felt lucky to be in Helsinki to see such a performance, since it would not likely be staged elsewhere given the local subject and large resources required. The people, architecture and ambiance of Helsinki are emotionally restrained by standards of many other capitals, but it seems that the Finns express their repressed rebellion via edgy and high quality modern art, dance, and music. To quote the choreographer Saarinen: “We don’t speak much…yet our avoidance of speech may be one reason why we become fine dancers”. And provocative artists--see this violent/phallic neo-pagan art created by a modern artist, in a rural castle I visited in Hämeenlinna:

 

Notes on the Finnish National Opera, Helsinki: The interior is pleasantly modern, comfortable, and good acoustically, seating 1500 or so. There is a nice tradition there (as at the Bayreuth Festival in Germany) of patrons being able to reserve dessert and coffee during the intermissions, the repast already served at small lobby tables on your arrival from the hall, preventing the usual long lines and creating a very civilized ambiance. The audience is a nice mix of old, middle, and young, and were appropriately enthusiastic about the performance. Remarkably, the fine orchestra did not immediately bolt after the conductor took his bow, as happens elsewhere (e.g. at the Mariinsky in St. Petersburg the players seemed almost run out of the pit). They not only stayed until all applause was done, but took a second orchestral bow, and many were in the pit 20 minutes before the performance started. Great to see the orchestra both appreciated and appreciative. The view from the Opera lobby is unique—a cool vision of lakes and trees that certainly evoke Finland:

The only minus is the exceedingly tacky exterior, that looks like a white tiled bathroom fixture that fell over in the tub. Why this was thought to be a good design in a prominent building for the otherwise pretty city of Helsinki is beyond me.