In many ways, Walter Steffens' Two Cells in Sevilla is a work of polar
opposites. Quasi-tonal but modern, traditional but minimalist, the
German composer has created an opera uniting two historical protagonists
as multi-faceted as the music itself. The libretto, written by
Steffens' son Marec Béla Steffens, fancifully merges the lives of
Brother Gabriel Téllez, best known under his pen name Tirso de Molina as
the inventor of the fictional womanizer Don Juan, and that of Miguel de
Cervantes, the author of windmill-fighting Don Quixote. Both look upon
the world from their own respective confines – the monk Brother Gabriel
from his cloister, Don Miguel from a debtor's prison cell. Their divine
literary outbursts are provoked by a very mundane desire indeed: Both
habitats share the same slothful cook, a lady with a penchant for
gallant novels. Spurred by the same simple wish of enjoying a heartier
fare, both Brother Gabriel and Don Miguel de Cervantes embark on a
competition to come up with the raciest, most exciting novel to win the
good will of their cook. The music captures this dialectic perfectly,
conveying a grandiose arc of drama with deceptive ease and at the same
time elevating the mundane to greatness. It would be tempting to
diagnose enlightened undertones in the libretto as well as in the music:
For as sublime as the work sounds, it remains deeply committed to the
human spirit. Two Cells in Sevilla is rounded off by Steffens' musical
interpretation of five poems by fellow-German Friedrich Hölderlin,
widely known for the intensely lyrical, idealistic quality of his work
and his tragic descent into insanity. With these lieder's ethereal
fluctuation between beauty and pain, they truly are an apt choice for an
album as full of contrasts as this one.
In many ways, Walter Steffens' Two Cells in Sevilla is a work of polar
opposites. Quasi-tonal but modern, traditional but minimalist, the
German composer has created an opera uniting two historical protagonists
as multi-faceted as the music itself. The libretto, written by
Steffens' son Marec Béla Steffens, fancifully merges the lives of
Brother Gabriel Téllez, best known under his pen name Tirso de Molina as
the inventor of the fictional womanizer Don Juan, and that of Miguel de
Cervantes, the author of windmill-fighting Don Quixote. Both look upon
the world from their own respective confines – the monk Brother Gabriel
from his cloister, Don Miguel from a debtor's prison cell. Their divine
literary outbursts are provoked by a very mundane desire indeed: Both
habitats share the same slothful cook, a lady with a penchant for
gallant novels. Spurred by the same simple wish of enjoying a heartier
fare, both Brother Gabriel and Don Miguel de Cervantes embark on a
competition to come up with the raciest, most exciting novel to win the
good will of their cook. The music captures this dialectic perfectly,
conveying a grandiose arc of drama with deceptive ease and at the same
time elevating the mundane to greatness. It would be tempting to
diagnose enlightened undertones in the libretto as well as in the music:
For as sublime as the work sounds, it remains deeply committed to the
human spirit. Two Cells in Sevilla is rounded off by Steffens' musical
interpretation of five poems by fellow-German Friedrich Hölderlin,
widely known for the intensely lyrical, idealistic quality of his work
and his tragic descent into insanity. With these lieder's ethereal
fluctuation between beauty and pain, they truly are an apt choice for an
album as full of contrasts as this one.
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