As if immobilised by an alien force, the audience scarcely stirred for the 105-minute duration of Innocence by the Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho (1952-). This international joint commission was given its UK premiere at the Royal Opera House last Monday. Since the subject matter is gun violence, specifically a school shooting in Finland and its aftermath, we knew what lay ahead. The impact, however, is primarily meditative, the suspense psychological rather than theatrical or dogmatic. First seen in Aix-en-Provence in 2021, with mostly the same cast and artistic team, Innocence was – as then – conducted by Susanna Mälkki and directed by Simon Stone (Phaedra, National Theatre), both making welcome house debuts.
To a crisp libretto by the Finnish writer Sofi Oksanen, with translation and dramaturgy by Aleksi Barrière, the action shifts across two timelines. A wedding is taking place, 10 years after the attack in which 10 students and a teacher were killed. The groom is the gunman’s brother. The bride knows nothing of the tragedy but the secret cannot be kept. Threads are drawn together until, in a final twist, we understand the story’s awful resonance. Nimble, naturalistic sets (designed by Chloe Lamford, lighting by James Farncombe), revolve briskly, in short scenes, between international school and wedding feast. Parents, son and bride sit in a queasy “last supper” configuration beneath pink heart-shaped balloons. Victims and survivors, deliberately indistinguishable, speak their thoughts, hopes, fears.
For this most precise of composers, several elements provide bedrock for her layered, integrated sound world: surges of percussion including bells, celesta, harp and piano; low gurgles of contrabassoons and tuba; a wordless, offstage (excellent) chorus; stark, unworldly Finnish folk song; a text that moves between Finnish, Czech, French, Romanian, Swedish, German, Spanish and Greek. Of many chilling, pivotal moments, one stands out, exemplifying Saariaho’s ability to yoke music and words to maximum effect: the essence of opera.
The killer’s father, Henrik, (Christopher Purves) finds himself alone in the kitchen talking with a waitress (Jenny Carlstedt). Her daughter Markéta (Vilma Jää) was shot dead by this man’s gun, stolen by his son on that fateful day. As mutual recognition dawns, Henrik loses self-control, overwhelmed by the indelible stain on his family. A rich-toned baritone, Purves has to sacrifice all vocal colour and inch his way, pathetically, mercilessly, up to a tiny, falsetto rasp. Henrik begs to drive the waitress home, for her sake, for his, for both. The orchestra falls silent, save for a whispered horn, then explodes in a rat-a-rat roar. We are back at the shooting. The past is no foreign country but an unbearable, inescapable domestic present.
Other composers have made opera out of the violence of modern life. (Tansy Davies’s 9/11 work, Between Worlds (2015) stands out; Jeanine Tesori’s Blue, featuring police violence and racism, has just opened at English National Opera.) For Saariaho, whose best-known stage work, L’Amour de Loin (2000), is about a 12th-century troubadour, Innocence is a departure. The sensuous textures, every bit as allusive and elusive as in her other scores, were honoured by the Royal Opera orchestra and Mälkki, and by a first-rate cast which included Sandrine Piau as the nervy mother, Markus Nykänen as the conflicted groom, Lilian Farahani as the non-judgmental bride, Lucy Shelton as the distraught teacher, Julie Hega in the speaking role of the truth-teller, Iris, and Timo Riihonen as the ingratiating priest. Love survives, as the music’s briefly harmonious closing bars indicate, but to what end? We must ponder the unanswerable. Saariaho’s work, powerful as it is, lacks that glimmer of a smile, those tears of laughter which heighten tragedy. As far as it goes, it offers thoughtful, disturbing rewards. This staging has no weak links.
This was a red-letter week for musical Finns (eight, including four singers, were involved with Innocence). At the Barbican, Sakari Oramo, the Finnish chief conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, was on the podium for an invigorating concert with his ensemble. For whatever reason, possibly because they are fine musicians working with a top conductor playing masterpieces old and new as has been the case since 1930, the orchestra was on exultant form. Two days earlier, the BBC had announced a U-turn on proposals to cut 20% of jobs in the corporation’s orchestras.
With the threat lifted for now, they zestfully tackled Grażyna Bacewicz’s Concerto for Large Orchestra (1962), a work of bubbling, crackling energy that should be in every orchestra’s repertoire. Dvorak’s Violin Concerto keeps its greatest pleasures to the joyful last movement, but with the young South Korean violinist Inmo Yang as soloist – light-toned, lyrical, elegant – the entire work gained interest and came into its own. In the second half of the concert, all the contrasting mystery and swagger, poetry and flamboyance, of Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra – an influence on Bacewicz’s similarly titled work – was on display. Oramo unleashed the work’s virtuosity and danger, letting every section have its moment in the spotlight. With risk comes the occasional swerved corner, but this was a thrilling performance, with more Bartok – a Romanian folk dance played at breakneck speed – as a breathless encore, prompting rowdy cheers from a delighted audience. The BBCSO will be out in force as usual at this summer’s Proms, announced last week, with Mahler’s third symphony a highlight.
At Kings Place, Explore Ensemble, a group built around a core sextet, often using electronics, performed a programme called Sensations of Tone by four composers working today: Cassandra Miller, Rebecca Saunders, Beatrice Dillon and Catherine Lamb. From Miller’s For Mira, prompted by a computer-generated transcription of Kurt Cobain singing “Where did you sleep last night?”, to Lamb’s Parallaxis Forma, enhanced by Lotte Betts-Dean singing in pure, wordless spirals, each demanded close attention. This was an ear-bending, mind-expanding workout, in a week not short of aural exertion and all the better for it.
Star ratings (out of five):
Innocence ★★★★
Sakari Oramo/BBCSO ★★★★
Explore Ensemble ★★★★
