Passion time is when there are chocolate eggs for everyone, for both children and adults, you might think. Because chocolate eggs and bunnies are already piling up in the supermarkets, after all it’s almost Easter. Once that’s over, the sweets that are reminiscent of the Christian resurrection story will quickly disappear. A ritual, quickly committed, quickly over. But Lent is also in the church year at the moment, the preparation for Easter, which only begins with Easter. The concert organizers orient themselves more towards the liturgical calendar. They are currently piling up performances of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Matthew Passion, the unrivaled leader among the settings of the biblical passion texts.
It is also on the program at Theater Basel, in a scenic version that directors have always been drawn to. Benedikt von Peter, Artistic Director in Basel since 2020, is having half the house converted for this purpose. Another grandstand is installed on the backstage, the audience sits in two halves facing each other. The Basel Symphony Orchestra is spread out to the left and right of the performance platform in the middle; The choir and extra choir of the Theater Basel sing in several formations on the stands and in the gallery. It turns the double choir of the music into architecture, which quickly dissolves in concert frontal performances. The two choirs answer each other, but also unite to form a powerful mass that carries out the cruel execution of Jesus of Nazareth.
Alessandro de Marchi acts more as a musical coordinator than as a conductor, staying straightforward in rapid tempi. The Sinfonieorchester Basel phrases vividly, lively, especially in the wind section, but plays on modern instruments, not historical ones, which are now common in more advanced performances. It fits perfectly with an aesthetic that doesn’t strive for perfection, but for participation. Other singers from amateur choirs in the region are distributed among the spectators, encouraging them to sing along. Well behaved we join in “O head full of blood and wounds”.
Everything is shown well: Does Peter want to apply for the Oberammergau Passion Play?
Theater, whether in ancient Greece or the Passion Plays of the Middle Ages, has its origins in sacred spaces where communities told their stories. Just as Bach once transformed the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig into a latently theatrical space with his St. Matthew Passion, Peter, conversely, turns the theater into a ritual space. The content of the ritual is well known, depicted by thousands of painters in the same pictorial topoi. Peter imitates them on the play platform in the middle, in tableaux vivants, such as those in the Passion Play in Oberammergau are common.
Robin Tritschler, the evangelist’s singer, acts as director, for whom his light tenor in the mixture of soft sound and concise articulation is ideal. André Morsch sings the Christ as a suffering, also combative human being, not as a god who pours out his balm. The last supper, the prayer in Gethsemane, Jesus before Pilate: none of the traditional motifs are missing here, nor are any of the traditional props, palm branches, spears, torches, Roman helmets and a favorite stuffed lamb, a symbol of Jesus’ innocence. Does Peter want to apply to succeed Christian Stückl in Oberammergau?
Not quite, because those playing here are children, members of the Basel Girls’ Choir and Boys’ Choir. Sometimes they also sing, the cantus firmus in the opening chorus or small roles. Most of the time, however, they just stand there with a seriousness that adults would hardly muster, dressed in pastel Nazarene tones by costume designer Lene Schwind, with fabulous cuts, but a bit sweet for contemporary tastes. After all, children are normally responsible for the nativity play, not for the tale of woe. It sets a subtle but clear question mark. Do we only believe in this ritual like some children believe in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny? Does it require a childlike innocence of heart? Or just naivety, even stupidity?
The director puts a ritual up for discussion by literally placing it in the room
For Bach there was no doubt: “I will gladly accept the cross and cup,” sings the bass in one of the arias that apply to the individual: With his sins he helps to execute this Jesus and is at the same time freed them. That is Christian theology to this day, even if the sacrificial motif has been a stumbling block since the Enlightenment. The soloists Álfheiður Erla Guðmundsdóttir, Beth Taylor, Nathan Haller, Christian Senn, responsible for the arias and the small solo parts, rush back and forth between the performance platform and the spectator stands, switching from observing to the role of haunting mediators. What they convey can be read in video projections above the game platform: humility, endurance, renunciation, sacrifice of love – none of these values are popular in individualistic Western societies.
Or again, when you think of movements like “Fridays for Future” that inspired Benedikt von Peter? He wants to make the passion visible as a “value machine,” he says in the program booklet. One of the girls, dressed more progressively than the others, seems bothered by this. It calls out apocalyptic Bible texts to the audience, wants to relieve the others of the heavy cross. The evangelist pushes the children back into their roles, but cannot quell the doubts that some of them formulate in a video at the end.
The only elements of classical deconstruction remain, carried out somewhat too late and insufficiently. Paradoxically, the evening would be even more irritating if the direction remained purely experimental. Because it almost constantly deconstructs and reconstructs itself as it is being performed. Peter puts a ritual up for discussion by literally placing it in the room. He doesn’t interpret it from the director’s high seat, but allows it to be questioned himself. Softly but firmly. Passion time is when there are chocolate eggs for everyone, for children and adults alike. Or is it more?