Strauss
Die Liebe der Danae – Opera in three Acts to a libretto by Joseph Gregor based on a scenario by Hugo von Hofmannsthal [sung in German with German and English surtitles]
Jupiter – Christopher Maltman
Mercury – Ya Chung Huang
Pollux – Vincent Wolfsteiner
Danae – Malin Byström
Xanthe – Erika Baikoff
Midas – Andreas Schager
Four Kings – Martin Snell, Bálint Szabó, Paul Kaufmann & Kevin Conners
Semele – Sarah Dufresne
Europa – Evgeniya Sotnikova
Alcmene – Emily Sierra
Leda – Avery Amereau
Four Guards – Bruno Khouri, Yosif Slavov, Daniel Noyola & Vitor Bispo
A voice – Elene Gvritishvili
Bavarian State Opera Chorus
Bavarian State Orchestra
Sebastian Weigle
Claus Guth – Director & choreographer
Michael Levine – Set designer
Ursula Kudrna – Costume designer
Alessandro Carletti – Lighting designer
rocafilm – Video
Dramaturg – Yvonne Gebauer & Ariane Bliss
Reviewed by: Curtis Rogers
Reviewed: 22 July, 2025
Venue: National Theatre, Munich, Germany
Described as a ‘cheerful mythology’ which adapts some stories about the Greek gods, Claus Guth’s new production of Strauss’s penultimate opera turns its wit into more of an urgent morality tale for our time, with a strain of satire. The deeply indebted King Pollux is persuaded to find a way out of bankruptcy by marrying off his daughter Danae to Midas, a peasant donkey-driver who has been made rich by his divinely given ability to turn whatever he touches into gold. Jupiter is already enamoured of Danae himself and sees a way to avoid the jealous fury of his wife, Juno, by having Midas stand in for him at his proposed marriage with the mortal woman. Danae is attracted to the figure of the servant who has been sent to woo her for Midas, but is really Midas in disguise. They become enraptured and she learns his identity, but tragedy strikes when they embrace, and she is turned into a golden statue.
The moral compromises and bargains made within the realm of human affairs when money or capital is the driving factor is aptly made by casting Pollux here as Donald Trump, and his court as an office at Trump Tower. Video projections conjure a view across the New York skyline, including a disheartening backdrop of grey clouds and rain, contrasting with the shower of gold which Danae has dreamed about (and by which Jupiter surreptitiously visited her in the original myth). Despite the specious prospect of riches and the appearance of Jupiter in lavish gold dress – correspondences with the exploitation by the likes of Jeffrey Epstein are too obvious for Jupiter to be made explicitly into that figure – her encounter with Midas teaches Danae the value of human relationships and a way out of the network of relations based upon commercial transactions. Also despite the apocalyptic destruction which has descended upon the neighbourhood of the skyscrapers in place of the desert to which they are meant to be banished, when Danae is restored to life she chooses a life of poverty with Midas rather than wealth and opulence with Jupiter.
Photos in the programme form a sort of picture book, showing Danae as a glamour girl hankering after vulgar material luxury, complement the production which opens with video scenes of her being photographed as a model. Contrary to that depiction, and pre-empting her self-realisation, Malin Byström develops her character as dignified and thoughtful – if anything, a victim of the set of transactional relationships around her. Allied with lustrous, measured singing, she enables the role to stand out as the true hero of the drama, despite the music (unusually for Strauss) not making the soprano the main role. However we interpret his actions, Jupiter is firmly at the opera’s centre, given a powerful and equally committed performance here by Christopher Maltman. Cast by Strauss and Josef Gregor as an alternative Wotan, Maltman’s Jupiter is never merely overbearing or swaggering, and his renunciation at the end, not to meddle with human affairs and to accept Danae’s rejection of him, registers as sincere and persuasive.
Andreas Schager has the more typical musical role of the male lover as Midas, which he delivers with almost consistently radiant force, expressing an urgent passion compared with Jupiter’s calmer calculations, though higher notes come under pressure when sustained. If Jupiter is akin to Wotan, then Ya Chung Huang’s puckish Merkur (Mercury) makes him here a winning counterpart to Loge. The four queens (former lovers of Jupiter) generally sing in lively quartet here, but Emily Sierra is notable as a vivid Alcmene. Erika Baikoff is an attentive, characterful Xanthe (Danae’s maid) while Vincent Wolfsteiner is a suitably ruffled Pollux-Trump.
Sebastian Weigle makes this a truly memorable performance with the Bavarian State Opera Chorus and Orchestra. It’s vehement and upfront from the start – no doubt the theatre’s excellent acoustics help to foreground the rich orchestral sonority – underlying the production’s serious moral sentiment, rather than making a merely witty, background commentary to a ‘cheerful’ entertainment. It demonstrates the high level of invention of which Strauss was still capable, on the cusp of his Indian summer, and argues the case passionately for an opera which should be heard more often than it is. The opera’s longueurs melt away in the white – or rather golden – heat of this gripping and insightful production.