The Great Wave Review – Hokusai’s opera looks beautiful but skimps on the drama | Opera

‘I “May I become art myself,” sings artist Katsushika Hokusai in the new opera by composer Dai Fujikura and librettist Harry Ross. And here he is doing just that: played by baritone Daisuke Ohyama, with the powers of Scottish opera wrapped around him.

Over five chapters, The Great Wave presents us with episodes from Hokusai’s life and death, beginning with his funeral and then continuing in flashback, including a dream sequence in which he encounters the wave that inspired his most famous print. As you might expect, it looks beautiful. The production is the work of an all-Japanese team headed by director Satoshi Miyagi, and is filled with photographs of Hokusai, projected onto the bamboo walls of Junpei Kise’s set, which reflect the artist’s barrel-shaped coffin. It often sounds beautiful, too: Fujikura uses the shakuhachi – a recorder-like flute, played by Shozan Hasegawa – as the foundation for a light-filled sound world that evokes openness and simplicity in an almost Copland style, made of elusive, elusive orchestral textures.

Everyone starts out wearing white canvases – blank – but Hokusai and Aoi, his daughter and assistant, gradually become soaked in the expensive Prussian blue dye, which, Japan being closed in the 19th century, must be obtained through forbidden trade with the fearsome Dutch. However, there is no real danger: we learn in passing that Hokusai’s house has burned down, and that he risks execution for his trade with the Dutch, but none of these things bother him. Even when a set of elegant dances is about to chop off the toes of his grandson, who has racked up gambling debts, he continues to paint.

So it’s not a retelling of a life story, but rather a series of extended vignettes, or a Philip Glass-style meditation. But for what? There’s a reason there are so few successful theater productions by successful artists. Hokusai is a happy man whose only wish is to live a long life so that he can continue to develop his art. And at more than one point—for example, when Hokusai shows pictures of adorable animals to a queue of admirers—it feels like a discussion about the mechanics of giving the audience what it wants. As for Ōi, she’s an artist, a divorcee who has returned to her father’s house as his assistant—but if her feelings about this are even remotely mixed, we barely hear from her.

Vocally, Ōi is the star, and Julithe Lozano Rulong radiates her generous nature, singing in a high, glowing voice. There are also strong performances from the supporting cast, including Shengzhi Ren, as Hokusai’s canny agent and sweet shop owner who sadly remembers his favorite customer, and lovely tenor Luvo Maranti as the annoying grandson. Conducted by Stuart Stratford, the orchestra and chorus play and sing with absolute conviction.

Cash-strapped Scottish Opera was able to develop a project with funding attached and worked admirably with it. With an exhibition in the lobby and a program book full of interesting articles, there is much to learn about Hokusai here. But don’t expect opera to do this job alone.