Satyagraha

by Philip Glass (libretto from the Bhagavada Gita)

seen at the Coliseum on 14 February 2018

This is the second revival of Phelim McDermott's 2007 production, this time conducted by Karen Kamensek and featuring Toby Spence as Gandhi.

The opera has three acts, named Tolstoy, Tagore and King, representing past, present and future in Gandhi's life. It is meditative rather than narrative, and the text is sung entirely in Sanskrit, taken from an ancient poem - thus it could hardly refer directly to any events being depicted visually. (It is interesting, by the way, to note that ENO's policy of singing opera in English has been waived for two Philip Glass operas, this and Akhnaten. The only other exception that I am aware of is John Buller's Bakxai from 1992, which used the ancient Greek of Euripides as its libretto.)

The relationship between the text, the names of the acts, and the setting is explained in program notes; otherwise only those well-versed in Gandhi's biography would be aware of the references and relevancies. As a young man he corresponded with Tolstoy, and named a community in South Africa after him (Tolstoy Farm). Later in life he was acquainted with the Bengali Rabindranath Tagore, but the second act relates more specifically to the newspaper Indian Opinion and the increasingly disruptive profile Gandhi had in South Africa as he attempted to shame the colonail government into abiding by its promises by means of satyagraha or non-violent action.

The 'King' of the third act is Martin Luther King, influenced by the principles of satyagraha but not someone who met Gandhi personally. He is a silent figure gesticulating at a podium at the back of the stage in this production, a vision evoking his famous oratory. (Likewise, in the earlier acts, Tolstoy ad Tagore are silent figures witnessing the action below.)

The staging uses slow movement to match the endlessly proliferating musical rhythms and shifting patterns of Glass's music. The figure of Gandhi himself is a focal point, and he has a number of solos; otherwise the movements of other characters and the chorus provide a stylised commentary on events or on the sung texts. It is very idiosyncratic, but wonderfully suited to the style of the music and the nature of the text.

Personally, I preferred the more gorgeous visual effects of Akhnaten, in which the hieratic nature of the Pharaoh's existence seemed to be exemplified both by what we saw and what we heard. In the case of Satyagraha the link is perhaps more tenuous and so harder to grasp, though the music is, as ever, mesmerising, and the orchestra, the soloists and the chorus were all excellent.

I saw the original production in 2007, but have to confess that on seeing it again this time, I had virtually no memory of its details. This surprised me, as I thought it had made an impression; but on the other hand, it is a piece that demands close attention, and eleven years is a considerable lapse of time.