The First Humans opera review – Adam, Eve and a Macbook?

The late Steve Jobs must be furious, fizzing somewhere on his black polo-neck cloud. For he is not the edgy pioneer he thought he was. Adam, the first human, beat him to the techno-punch. Adam had a Macbook Pro from the get-go of creation. Even before the Fax machine was thought of. At least, he constantly peers at one in the opening scene of Dutch National Opera’s new revival of The First Humans, by Rudi Stephan, now showing on the Arte Opera channel here. Not only the first human, the first laptop. Cain sports the first tuxedo. Welcome to a GQ themed genesis.

Curtain up finds Adam seated at a long, fruit-strewn table, ignoring a seductive Eve. She squishes languorously towards him, across the tabletop, scattering pips in a trail of juice. He remains remote, focused on his Facebook account. Cain looms menacingly underneath, black tie hanging loose, slavering silently as Eve’s nylon clad legs loom into view. 

Hang on. Who is he Tweeting? At this stage in the Genesis narrative, Adam would have maxed out at three social media friends – Eve, Cain and Abel. But what, I hear you say, about the Serpent? Undoubtedly, the slithery manifestation of Beelzebub would be online, making four? 

Get up to speed. 

It was an early principle of social media moderating in Eden that troublesome, politically incorrect account holders – inappropriate snakes – be banned from posting. The tradition holds good today. Satan has to run his own social media account, usually from Florida. The Serpent’s first post about Eve and that bloody apple had forced God – Zuckerberg – to cast him hence from Facebook Eden. So, not even a snake in the grass, fourth, online friend for poor Adam to “like”. Stuck in a dysfunctional family forum. 

The problem with Spanish director Calixto Bieito’s opening smart-ass laptop device is that it instantly catches the eye and trivialises the serious artwork the composer, Stephan, intended. That and the slaughtered bloodstained toy lamb that Abel carts around are gratuitous distractions. The First Humans fixated the composer. 

He considered it his early life’s most important creation. This was a warning tale written to encapsulate nothing less than the human condition. The original production, staged five years after the composer’s death in 1920, featured a cast clad in bearskins, then fashionable. Not a distracting, modernist prop in sight.

Bieito is renowned for his modernist interpretations of traditional works. His recent (2020) white-sofa version of Lohengrin, staged by Staatsoper, Berlin is typical Regietheater – director rules, forget originality. His The First Humans ploughs the same furrow.

Rudi Stephan (1887 – 1915) is one of the 20th century’s “what if?” composers, relatively unknown. Brimming with promise, he was shot in the head in the trenches of World War I at the age of 28. The First Humans is his only opera. But he left a sufficient canon of orchestral work and songs as evidence of his unfulfilled potential. 

He stood at the threshold of Late Romanticism, Modernism and Impressionism. Had he survived he would have been a counterpoint to the Schoenberg school, for his was a lyrical rather than atonal, brutalist style. He was influenced by Schoenberg but steered away from stridency. The sound world of The First Humans is harmonic, intense and compelling. 

This is a singer’s opera. All four principals are set free to express their intense emotions. It is high drama. Also, erotic. Almost to the point of indecency. Stephan was fixated by René Schickele’s 1909 novel, Der Fremde, which added a Freudian twist to the relatively simple snake, apple, sex, good brother, bad brother biblical familiar. Bieito elevates the erotic theme to high prominence.

The librettist is Otto Borngräber. He was a somewhat fey idealist, fascinated by burgeoning trends in psychoanalysis. In his interpretation, Adam’s lust for Eve is waning. While attempting to reignite the former apple-induced libido, she entertains sexual fantasies about both of her sons. Sigmund, what do you make of that? Freud’s new theories were all the rage at the time. 

The traditional Old Testament Creation narrative is only the foundation upon which the opera, subtitled an “Erotic Mystery”, is built. Having been shown the door of paradise Adham (Adam), Chawa (Eve), Kajin (Cain) and Chabel (Abel) now live in a vast, sprawling landscape – the first humans and only exemplars of their species. The opera features Hebrew names.

Chawa is alienated from Adahm. His growing indifference increases her longing to return to Eden. Kajin and Chabel espouse different views of life; the deep channels from which the river of all subsequent human conflict subsequently flows. Kajin is driven by selfish desire – expressed sexually in this opera. Chabel lives for his love of God. He is a mummy’s boy and Kajin resolves to kill him for that. And to have Chawa for himself.

High tech and strange fashion intrusions aside, Bieito’s staging is compulsive viewing. The action is slow and deliberate. During his under the table scene, Kajin takes fully five minutes to silently progress from one end to the other as Chawa tries to seduce Adahm above. The degree of separation is minimal; the sense of menace created is very real. 

Chawa is sung by German soprano, Annette Dasch, who delivers a bravura, seductive performance. She would make a wonderful Delilah. At one point when the sung dialogue between Kajn and Chabel dominates the action, she is seated akimbo on the table slowly transforming a mound of pink modelling clay into – what?

Your evil-minded reviewer’s lurid anticipation was proved wrong when a pair of innocent arms were eventually added, and it turned out to be nothing more than a primitive figurine. This legerdemain was more relief than disappointment. Her sculpting was filmed in closeup and projected onto a backcloth – a theatrical device now seemingly in everyday use in Regietheater productions. 

American bass-baritone Kyle Ketelson sings Adahm. He has a vibrant stage presence and has performed in film versions of Don Giovanni and Le Nozze de Figaro. His Adahm portrayal captures the mood of laptop absorbed indifference to Chawal perfectly. 

Leigh Melrose, a British baritone is Kajn. I have come across him before, in Schreker’s Der Schmied von Ghent. He is gaining a reputation for cutting edge modern roles. John Osborn, a bel canto tenor, proves himself a plaintive Chabel. The nice guy role is hard to pull off. Osborn manages to deliver a principled character rather than an annoying mummy’s boy. He and Melrose were excellent foils. I may not have appreciated all of director Bieito’s tricks of the trade, but his casting was strong.

François-Xavier Roth leads the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra for the first time. He is currently Principal Guest Conductor with the London Symphony Orchestra and Musical Director of Cologne Opera. The Rudi Stephan work was obviously new territory for him, as well as most of the audience. Under his baton, the piece exudes warmth. 

This is a basically fine and well-deserved revival of an opera whose theme has captured the imagination of others before Rudi Stephan. Scarlatti was first out of the Genesis trap with Il primo omicidio as long ago as 1707. After 18 months of Covid introspection, it is perhaps unsurprising that Dutch National Opera should stage a work that delves deep into the origins of the driving forces of humanity. 

Of course, Adahm and Chawal eventually get on with their altered lives. As shall we. 

Watch Rudi Stephan’s The First Humans at the Dutch National Opera online now.