"Norma" in Berlin: Society Under the Weight of Dictatorship and Sonya Yoncheva as a Business Woman
- 18 hours ago
- 4 min read
On May 1, Berlin hosted a performance of Norma directed by Vasily Barkhatov. As is often the case in contemporary Regietheater, the action was moved from ancient antiquity into a vaguely modern setting. The production deliberately avoids a precise geography or timeline: the audience is presented with a state that has undergone a radical political transformation.
A once free society — one shaped by art, sculpture, and freedom of thought — gradually turns into a harsh dictatorship visually reminiscent of the eras of Joseph Stalin and Mao Zedong. Instead of inspiration, there is the endless production of busts of rulers; instead of individuality, there is the cult of power and ideology. At the same time, the production raises another important question: which civilization is truly more progressive? The Gallic society, where a woman-priestess occupies the highest position of authority, appears significantly freer in terms of gender and leadership, yet this same society continues to practice human sacrifice. In this way, the production avoids a simplistic division between the "civilized" and the "barbaric": both systems reveal themselves to be equally cruel and deeply contradictory.
Against this backdrop, the figure of Norma becomes especially fascinating. Although the opera was written in the 19th century, Vincenzo Bellini created a heroine who is not merely a tragic woman, but a true spiritual and political leader. Norma here is a figure of authority and influence: she guides her people, inspires resistance, strikes, and revolutionary action. In this interpretation, Norma becomes a kind of archetype of the modern businesswoman: a strict tailored suit, high heels, emotional restraint, a dramatic gaze, and a cigarette as a symbol of control and inner tension. The character merges political power, charisma, and emotional isolation — qualities contemporary culture often associates with women forced to survive in a male-dominated world.
Visually, the production follows the familiar aesthetics of contemporary Regietheater: grey-brown palettes, industrial spaces, cold monumentality, and intentionally suppressed beauty. Perhaps the only truly striking visual image is the opening scene, visible even before the opera begins. The action unfolds inside a sculptural workshop — a space where art has become an instrument of propaganda and the mass production of ideological symbols.
And yet, despite all of Norma’s political influence and authority, she ultimately remains a victim. This is perhaps the central paradox of the character: a woman who possesses spiritual power and the ability to command an entire people is emotionally destroyed by a man who cannot even summon the courage to speak honestly with her before the revelation of his relationship with Adalgisa. Here the romantic tradition of Bellini and his era becomes especially apparent. For many Romantic composers, women embodied sacrifice, forgiveness, and unconditional love. Even while holding immense power, Norma ultimately remains a figure defined by her ability to love and forgive — almost a sacred embodiment of emotional self-sacrifice.
As for the cast, the greatest discovery of the evening for me was Angela Brower as Adalgisa. Particularly impressive was her vocal technique and her ability to move effortlessly from tenderness to dramatic intensity within a single register, colouring phrases with a remarkable range of emotional nuance. Most importantly for Bellini, she largely remained within the stylistic framework of bel canto.
As for Sonya Yoncheva in the title role, her performance was solid and professionally constructed. However, it seems that the verismo repertoire suits her voice more naturally, allowing her to unleash the full passion of her temperament through dramatic outbursts, chest resonance, emotional accents, and almost physical intensity. In Bellini, this approach occasionally felt excessive, since the music demands greater flexibility, elegance, and control of line.
The aria Casta Diva initially impressed with its restraint and near-academic precision, as though the singer were consciously preserving the aesthetics of bel canto. Gradually, however, the interpretation shifted toward a more dramatic, almost verismo-like manner. Sharp transitions between registers and a certain heaviness in the coloratura and fioriture became noticeable. And, of course, the upper notes lacked those true "pearls" of bel canto — light, luminous, almost weightless high notes floating above the orchestra.
At the same time, the duets between Norma and Adalgisa became the true musical climax of the evening: their voices blended beautifully, creating a rare sense of dramatic and timbral unity.
Pollione, performed by Freddie De Tommaso, also left a very positive impression. His voice possesses a beautiful, noble timbre, solid technique, and an ability to convey emotional complexity without reducing the character to a mere stereotypical betrayer. In his interpretation, Pollione appeared less cruel than weak, conflicted, and emotionally lost.
Special mention should also go to Erwin Schrott as Oroveso. His bass sounded remarkably even, deep, and authoritative. The performance carried precisely the calm authority and inner monumentality required for the role. Perhaps this was one of the most flawless vocal performances of the evening — it was difficult to find anything to criticize.
Interestingly, despite the relocation of the setting and all the characteristic elements of Regietheater, the production was warmly received by the audience. The audience remained deeply engaged throughout the evening, and the performance concluded with a long ovation. Applause repeatedly broke out during the opera itself — something that does not happen often today, especially in productions that radically reinterpret a classical work.
Text: Julia Pneva
Photo: Bernd Uhlig
Comments