All language subtitles for 02- extras

"The cast of this "Rusalka" is a stroke"
of good fortune such as you rarely find.

High musical standards are combined
with acting abilities

you don't often see
in the opera house,

and this is true
of all the performers onstage.

As a result, we can delve
much more deeply than usual

"when you're often forced to decide;"
singing imposes certain conditions

and singing needs certain people
for whom acting may not come naturally.

But Kristine Opolais acts like
Nicole Kidman - and that's rare.

When I'm working I really don't
draw any distinction

between actors and singers.

The difference, of course, is the music.

Music is a kind of emotional putty

for the audience
and for the singers onstage.

It goes into every crack
and holds the whole thing together.

You don't get that in the spoken theatre
where the rehearsals serve above all

to produce this emotionality.

We've got only our bodies and language:
we don't have a medium like music.

Music automatically plumbs the listener's
unconscious and affects us there.

We first have to produce this
by means of rhythm , pauses,

arrangements, images and so on.

In spite of this, I begin by approaching
the story as a whole.

I then make a joke about it
by persuading singers

who tend to be poorly trained as actors

to dig deep inside themselves

and produce fantastic performances
as actors.

I've rarely had such a homogeneous and
"powerful ensemble as with this "Rusalka"."

All the performers involved
deserve their accolade as actors.

It's hard to categorize between
a stage director and an opera director.

The old cliché of an opera director
is of someone

who creates splendid installations
and then places the singers in positions

where they can sing
their arias beautifully.

In comparison, he naturally
directs people differently.

There have been times
when we were really tested.

It was a kind of mental multitasking
between singing, movement and expression -

there were a lot of
demanding situations.

But I understood
- and one often doesn't understand this -

why rehearsals last
five or six weeks.

In this particular case
not a day was too much.

Every minute was used
efficiently and meaningfully.

Martin Kušej is a director
who takes a close interest in the music,

and I think that's a very good thing
and very important.

For him the music isn't something
one would rather do without.

What's also important for me
is the director/conductor relationship.

This is invariably neglected
by opera companies.

Conflicts often arise
because of a lack of preparation.

Here both knew from the outset
what they were letting themselves in for.

They worked together
in a very cooperative and helpful way.

Another plus: the conductor Tomáš
Hanus was present at all the rehearsals.

He attended every rehearsal
and that's how you achieve these results.

I was conducting this opera
for the first time here in Munich.

You need outstanding singers
and an outstanding orchestra.

It's an extremely difficult opera to sing.

If I may say so, Dvorak was
quite ruthless with his singers.

Czech is a very complicated language

but also a very musical language,

and so a Czech native is ideal
as a conductor.

The singers worked intensively
on the language.

I wanted them to do so
and I told them as much.

If you pronounce the Czech language
correctly when singing,

this helps the music.

It sounds more natural
and more musical

if stress and length are correct.
Rhythm is the lifeblood of the word.

We worked hard , and I think

the singers achieved a very high standard
of spoken Czech.

Czech was actually sung
rather than just being hinted at.

Initially, when you look at the score

and see all these Czech
consonants together, so dry,

you think it's impossible to sing.

But I had a good répétiteur
who's very familiar with Czech,

and it was then amazingly easy
to get it past my lips or throat.

I'm now enjoying the vocal challenge.

One can really sing a beautiful legato
in spite of three consecutive consonants.

When I first set eyes on the text
and tried to read it

I thought I'd never be able to speak it,
let alone sing it.

Of course it requires
a bit more effort

than your native language
and even other languages.

The many consonantal clusters
make you think

that it's practically unpronounceable.

Somehow it all came very easily
with all these consonants

and everything else
that's in this language.

" I'd describe "Rusalka" first"
and foremost as a fairy tale.

The family is really
my story about it.

I don't think Dvorak
ever thought

it could be interpreted
in this way.

It's about shedding light on the human
psyche, about its unfathomable depths

and also of course the profound
desire for love,

also, I believe,
the desire for an ideal , a Utopia,

but of course this promise
is never really kept.

There's this man
who leads a double life,

and - a classic case - there's this woman,
a mother figure,

who very surprisingly is repeatedly
characterized by the fact that

at least subjectively she claims
not to know what's happening.

Ježibaba and the Water Goblin
are already present during the Overture.

We wanted to show that these characters
too are in a co-dependent relationship

and that in some way or other Ježibaba
too is abused by him.

This sense of being a victim , which she
already feels in the Overture,

this fear, which I hope to show,
this despair...

Her feelings change in the course
of the piece

so that Ježibaba, previously the victim ,
becomes actively guilty in Act I I I.

In this piece the Witch Ježibaba is
my wife, as it were.

Only at the beginning is
any light shed on our relationship

when we're onstage together.

It's a marriage where nothing
works any longer,

we've lived together for decades
and drifted completely apart.

Each seeks refuge
in his or her own world.

She turns to drink and mumbo-jumbo.

With me a process of total
brutalization has taken place.

I have my secret passion
in the basement.

I perform magic for this girl whom we
keep quiet by telling her stories.

My husband pretends to be a
water goblin and tells her stories,

and sometimes I've played the part of this
witch for the children in the basement.

So Rusalka is even more
surprised when she sees me as a witch.

I think I was always
this man's back-up plan:

There's still Ježibaba.

My disguise as a witch

is all part of the game
we put on for these children.

With this magic I want to stir
her imagination and send her away.

I want to get her away
from the place where she's been.

She asks too many questions and
becomes awkward. She simply has to go.

This is all dressed up in a bit of
esoteric hocus-pocus

to get rid of her
as quickly and efficiently as possible.

This is all a kind of second layer
placed over the opera

and so we had to throw light on it
and take account of it to the very end.

You can do it in this way
but you don't have to.

But it was fantastic to work
with the singers.

From the outset they took the concept
very seriously and fully understood it.

They wanted to do it this way,
and I found it a wonderful process.

From the very beginning I was
completely taken by this idea.

It makes sense to provide
a topical context for this fairy tale.

And it's not just a fantastic idea,

its realization is also hugely successful ,
with no weaknesses.

Dramaturgically speaking,
the work has become a thriller,

so you really have to brace yourself
as a member of the audience.

If you interpret the concept
of a fairy tale as a world of appearances,

as an impossible but ideal state
or an ontological state of the world ,

this works in this piece
only because there are two worlds.

There's a harsh, realistic world
and there's a world of appearances

created for the young women
and derived from the fairy-tale world.

Children are naturally receptive
to such unreal , unnatural worlds,

especially if they're traumatized .
They need a framework, an environment

they can cling to
and in which they can explain things.

So we made this initial assumption:

the Water Goblin, who wants to play
a positive role in this story,

tells the children from the outset
that they're very special :

they're chosen creatures
like nixies, elves or mermaids.

In this way an entire universe arises
within another universe.

For me, this was the only way
I could tell this story.

Our first meeting was in fact
when we discussed this concept.

I was initially a little shocked
by this concept.

I naturally find the theme upsetting.

I really didn't know
if we should do this

and introduce this theme
into this fairy-tale world.

Aren't we giving a platform
to these criminals?

Can we ever really know
what a victim is feeling?

Aren't we victimizing
the victims all over again

by recreating these events
on the operatic stage?

And aren't we just following in the wake
of the gutter press?

This exercised me a great deal.

I didn't know what Martin had in mind.

But it was clear to me that he'd make
something out of this fairy tale,

"a "psychological thriller","
which lies beneath the surface.

When he explained to us what he had
in mind , I was surprised

at how quickly we all understood
how well it would work.

There was a further surprise in store

when the surtitles arrived
towards the end of the rehearsals.

It became clear how well the text allows
a second and third level of meaning

to emerge on top of the action.
It was almost uncanny

to see how well this text went together
with what we were doing onstage.

It was like a hand
grabbing you by the throat.

Horror is the wrong word.

We were enthralled , gripped.

I basically love playing nasty types.

It's a kind of catharsis,
getting rid of negative energy

in a healthy, channel led form
that doesn't harm anyone.

This role is very different,
of course, from Hunding or Fafner

or the usual thugs and murderers,
for all their psychological depth.

There were particular difficulties here.

In the opening scene, this pawing
and touching of the children

initially caused me some trouble.

But Martin helped me
overcome my inhibitions

in a very natural form.

Natural form sounds stupid

as it's of course something deviant,
however you look at it.

But he helped me overcome
this inhibition onstage.

And after about a week,
however stupid it may sound ,

it really was great fun playing this role
and identifying so completely with it.

And I think that in the final analysis
it has really worked.

I'd never thought
I could be so unappetizing.

I don't think Martin Kušej
has reinterpreted anything at all.

Kušej is a director
who seeks deeply.

As in a mine, he explores
the depths of the piece

and lays things bare that aren't
visible at first sight.

"A fairy tale like "Rusalka""
is a veritable treasure trove, of course.

It's also this
that frightens many people

when they see how radical and how true
these fairy tales can be.

If you read other fairy tales closely, "like
"The Frog Prince" or "Snow White","

you'll discover something similar - that's
why these fairy tales were written.

We know from the child's psyche,
the traumatized child's psyche,

that these fairy tales
also have this function with children.

Kušej has merely laid bare
"what's already in "Rusalka"."

I've worked with him a lot,
and this is really his great strength.

He looks for the hidden depths,
the contradictions.

He also looks for the complexity.
He isn't interested in harmony.

The set designer and I didn't want
a dull reflection of real life,

either in the sets onstage
or in the narrative.

My aim isn't to criticize
any perverse pederasts.

That's just common sense:
you don't need to stress that specially.

But I'm excited by the poetic component
that throws light on man's hidden depths

and which reveals a few facets
that are by no means evil

or, rather, they involve more sadness
and longing than mere evil.

And this hierarchy, this kind of
foreground and background ,

appearance and reality,
this upper world and this lower world ,

all of this played a very important role
in the sets.

As for the skinning of the doe, there were
insane discussions here in Munich.

This skinning is of course
also a part of the set:

we're showing
what lies beneath and behind.

I'm convinced the doe was
simply the pretext for a reaction

that really affects this society
and strikes at its very heart.

It's interesting that we've
been showing a piece about child abuse

and the whole discussion has been about
a stupid doe onstage.

On the one hand , this story
about the doe was interesting

because it shows in the best and most
pointed way how the theatre operates.

It's a very great and powerful point
for the theatre to make.

We live in a world in which millions
of animals are slaughtered every day.

They're eaten, consumed
and thrown away.

We've turned a blind eye
to this in our society.

We go to a delicatessen and see

if we'd prefer this cut of venison
or this lamb for our Christmas roast.

Suddenly an animal appears onstage
and people are frightened to death.

Why? Because they're confronted
by something they suppress in real life.

It's the same with sexuality,
erotic attraction and violence.

This is the function of the stage,
and that's how it must be.

When I work with Kušej
I know there'll be blood.

Working with him is very demanding
but also very inspiring.

When I look at what I've achieved
since working in this profession

the only work of any real relevance
has been achieved with Martin Kušej.

This scene with the extras
where they're all dressed as brides...

It's one of Rusalka's nightmares.

She's attending the Prince's party and
soon afterwards she appears as a bride.

We initially wondered about

using only women in this scene
or dressing men as women.

At some point it struck us
as a very interesting mixture

to have these men with beards
come on wearing bridal dresses -

there's something
insanely disturbing about it.

Do our eyes deceive us? What is it?
What's coming towards me?

This doe recurs throughout the piece
and throughout the libretto.

The Prince describes Rusalka as a doe,
and there's also a hunt.

The doe then appears again
in manifold forms.

This mixture of blood and bridal dress
produced a nightmarish image.

This gave rise to
a very interesting tension

with this balanced music, this waltz.

What's so tragic about this production

is that Rusalka's real failure
comes about in our own human world.

Of course, it's a consequence
of her failure to integrate with society.

But the story becomes terrible when she
enters the world of human beings.

Down there she's guarded
and protected as a child.

True, she's abused ,
and that's altogether appalling.

But she knows nothing else,
and until she discovers the desire

to see the Prince
or to be among people

she seems to get along quite well
with this identity of hers.

Rusalka tries to return to the world
she's fled from.

She realizes the world out there
is far worse than she'd expected.

She'd prefer to return
to the terrible world

where at least she had
a kind of identity.

The water wasn't a problem for me
because I knew about it from the outset.

I could take account of it.

I knew I'd need material
that was water-resistant.

We tried to keep the singers
as dry as possible.

If you know something in advance,
it's not a problem.

It's hard for an opera singer
to be in water and sing:

the voice, after all , is
easily affected as an organ.

But there was no problem
with Kristine Opolais.

Martin Zehetgruber is a colleague
I value highly.

For me as a costume designer
his spaces are always a challenge

because the stage and the sets
are always so reasonable and right.

If you put costumes
onstage that don't look right,

"it screams: "Error! Error! Error! ""

"With the costumes for "Rusalka""
it was important for me to ensure

that, although there are two worlds,

it remains Rusalka's world.

This second world is the world
of Rusalka's imagination,

in other words, her fears, including
this traumatic image of the brides.

There's a second level , but it still
has to remain a self-contained world.

I actually have two great duet scenes
with Rusalka.

But in these duets she doesn't sing
but remains silent.

As a result these duets
really become arias.

That's already something special.

Here I'm fortunate in having
Kristine Opolais opposite me.

She acts so intensely and stares
at you with such big eyes

that you get enough feedback
to react to something.

Normally you react to what has been sung -
that's what produces the expression.

She has to produce all this without using
her voice, and she does this really well.

Of course this also helps her partner
to find colours in his own voice,

to react to things and in spite of
everything to act with his partner.

It was great fun.

At all events Rusalka fails.

This really can't be explained
even in terms of the opera.

It's a rather unsophisticated libretto

with a very idealistic
and conciliatory ending.

I myself really can't make
much sense of it.

So I'd rather ask questions
of real life, and real life shows us

that people who've endured something
like this are marked for life.