Shows how much I know, really: Benjamin seems to be a pretty prominent contemporary composer, but I'd never heard of him before seeing his work on Medici. I have more or less the same things to say about both of these operas, so I'm covering them together.
Written on Skin is based on a medieval legend of some kind, of questionable veracity. There's this rich lord of some description, known only as "the protector." He commissions a scribe known only as "the boy" to make an illuminated manuscript depicting his family in Paradise and his enemies in Hell (surprised Trump hasn't thought ot that one--I'm sure John MacNaughton would be happy to do a commission, but given Dear Leader's history, he'd be prudent to demand payment in advance), so he's doing that, but then his wife Agnès--whom he dominates and treats like a child--starts up an affair with the boy. When the protector finds out, he murders him and feeds his heart to his wife (what can I say; they were hella gruesome in the past) and asks her how she likes it. She defies him by telling him it's super-delicious, which you have to admit is pretty gutsy. She then commits suicide by jumping out the window before he can kill her. There are a trio of angels watching this, who also embody several of the characters. Libretto and production both involve significant anachronisms; there's clearly an effort to have this transcend the putative setting.
Lessons in Love and Violence is another historical setting, this one regarding Edward II and the political intriguing around him: his lover Gaveston is murdered, and his wife conspires with an earl, Mortimer, to overthrow him; this having been accomplished, said son turns on them and has Mortimer killed, in one of the more violent climaxes I've seen in an opera. Unlike Written on Skin, there's no anachronism in the text, but the production for this, the debut production, is almost aggressively contemporary.
These two operas are thematically and tonally very similar. They both have that sort of poisonous, decadent, unnerving atmosphere to them. Benjamin's music is tense and clattery in a way that might not be my all-time favorite, but that works well for the stories it's telling. But beyond that, the similarities are probably because the libretti are both written by the same playwright, Martin Crimp. And that, I am of two minds about (like a tree in which there are two blackbirds). On the one hand, yes, Crimp's writing is uncommonly literary, and it really does create a strong atmosphere with some very striking moments. Conversely, though, the very fact that it's so strongly mannered and artificial means that these turbulent, violent stories ironically feel a bit bloodless. I can't say that I was emotionally drawn into either of them at all. They've received high praise (with Le Monde declaring Written on Skin to be the "best opera written in the past twenty years"), but I found them to be easier to admire than love. And admire them I did! I'll certainly follow Benjamin's future work with interest. I don't think he'll ever be my favorite contemporary composer, though.
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