When Music Dares to Reflect the Times . . .
On the same day NATO leaders gathered in The Hague to deliberate military budgets and defense priorities, a very different kind of gathering unfolded just a few streets away, in the Conservatoriumzaal at Amare. There, the talented young artists of the Dutch National Opera Academy, alongside the Residentie Orkest, invited the audience into a space of reflection with two one-act operas that confront the realities of war, power, morality, and the human cost of survival. The evening featured Kurt Weill’s Die sieben Todsünden (The Seven Deadly Sins) and Viktor Ullmann’s Der Kaiser von Atlantis (The Emperor of Atlantis), brought to the stage under the direction of Floris Visser and the baton of Sam Weller.
I begin with Der Kaiser von Atlantis, performed in the second half of the evening -fittingly so, as it directly confronts the absurdity of war and the corruption of absolute power. Composed in 1943 by Viktor Ullmann, with a libretto by Peter Kien, the opera was written and first rehearsed in the Nazi concentration camp of Theresienstadt. Neither composer nor librettist lived to see it performed; both were killed at Auschwitz. This gives the work a chilling weight that goes beyond allegory.
The story is surreal but unsettlingly familiar: a tyrant, Kaiser Overall, declares universal war. In response, Death – offended that his function has been hijacked – goes on strike. No one dies anymore, and the world descends into chaos. Life without death becomes unbearable. The only way to restore balance? The Emperor must be the first to die. The opera’s historical significance is matched by the force of this production. Visser’s staging, Esmée Thomassen’s costumes, and Gertjan Houben’s lighting combined to create a world that was both grotesque and intimate. Every choice was deliberate. Nothing was left to chance.
The young artists fully inhabited their roles, not only vocally but physically. I found myself drawn into the theatrical space they created, where sound, gesture, and silence carried equal weight. One could sense not only their talent, but their joy at being on stage. They reminded us that the theatre, even when it is about death, can be alive. There was no posturing, no distance – only presence.
Earlier in the evening, Die sieben Todsünden offered a mirror of a different kind. Written by Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht in 1933 during their exile from Nazi Germany, this ballet chanté follows Anna I and Anna II – two halves of the same woman – on a journey through seven American cities, where they encounter each of the so-called deadly sins. The irony, of course, is that the sins are punished not for being immoral, but for interfering with financial success. Pride, anger, lust – everything is expendable when profit is at stake.
Demi Wals (Anna II) brought boldness and intensity to the stage, channeling the impulsive, emotional side of the character with striking physical presence. Anna I (sung alternately by Aimee Kearney / Elisa Maayeshi) provided the voice of logic, restraint, and compromise. Together, they mapped a psychological struggle that felt uncomfortably current. The Family—sung with bite by the male quartet (Salvador Simão, Milan de Korte, Pavel Zelenev, and Román Bordón as “Mother”) – served as a moralizing chorus, urging conformity in the name of success.
The result was a production that dared to ask uncomfortable questions. In each city, Anna faces a choice. In each of us, there is an Anna I and an Anna II. How far will we go to fit in? What are we willing to suppress? At what cost?
What united both pieces was the extraordinary synergy between the youthful energy of the cast and the musical maturity of the Residentie Orkest. You could feel the excitement of early-career artists sharing the stage with seasoned professionals. And the audience – likely filled with friends, family, mentors, and curious concertgoers -was warm, engaged, and visibly moved. Last night, the room was full. The applause sincere.
The show can still be seen at Amare on 26th, 28th and 30th June. It offers no utopian fantasies, no cheap catharsis. Instead, it holds up a mirror – and for me, that mirror felt especially sharp in a week dominated by political statements about security and force.
If nothing else, it is a reminder that even in turbulent times, art can still do what it does best: question, disturb, and – in its most honest form -connect. Carmen Bulz, 25th June 2025
Photo by Reinout Bos
