Limbo
Director and artistic director: Michal Grover Friedlander
Stage design: Eli Friedlander
Music: Hadas Pe’ery, Sireen Elias, Barbara Strozzi
Story excerpt: Omer Friedlander, Memory excerpt: Ryo Takenoshita
Creators/Performers: Ryo Takenoshita (performer), Taum Karni (conducter), Doron Schleifer (Countertenor), Rona Shrira (Contralto), Noam Sharet (Flute), Inbar Sharet (Clarinet), Neta Maimon (Cello), Ziv Kaplan (Percussion)
Dramaturgical Advice: Jelena Novak
Noga Chelouche: Editor and Translator of program booklet
Layla Hallaq: Translator for program booklet
Studio Bank, 2019
Director's Note
Project Limbo an Opera is, in several ways, about memory, as
well as about the inability to remember. I always felt, even when
I was younger, that I cannot remember things, most things. It is
an odd feeling, as if my past is unavailable to me, and for that
reason, neither is my present.
Limbo is about ways of evaluating one’s life through
remembering and memory. The meaning of life crystalizing
around one meaningful memory (offered in the film After Life);
the inability to remember (prose fragment by Omer Friedlander)
the duality of mourning death and celebrating life, both part of
the same ceremony (Jazz funeral march); an in between language
and music in which breathing comes to suggest a primary
elemental zone of being (Hebrew Lessons by Pe’ery); constant
search for that which is ever-changing, by the time we understand
a structure, its rhythm, melody and texture—it has already transformed (Samai’e by Sireen Elias). Limbo an Opera evokes memories of the medium of opera, the
passing away of opera, its voices, their memories-- as evoked
in Fellini’s And the ship sails on…. and in the vocal timbre of
a counter tenor. Limbo brings back bits and pieces, a sound, a
movement, an idea, a prop from a performance’s past: Doron
Schleifer’s voice, Ryo Takenoshita’s gesture, Eli Friedlander’s
design, an umbrella…
In Limbo we work through ‘crossings’ or ‘meetings’ of memory
and the end of life. Hirokazu Kore-Eda film After Life is about
an opportunity to choose what you carry with you unto eternity.
The catch is that one can choose only a single memory from
An entire life, all the rest vanishes and is forgotten. In the film,
the memories selected by the dead are staged, screened, and
“entered into”. What is so moving about Kore-Eda’s film, is
that the dead’s choices predominantly consist of memories of
sensations-- smell, sound, tactility—all quite challenging for
film to portray. Those unable to select a memory, remain in an
between zone, a way station assisting others with their choices.
If limbo is to be in a state caught in between stages, or in an
intermediate undetermined place--at loss-- then our memories
are in a state of limbo, as we ourselves are.
Kore-Eda’s After Life suggests the value of life in choosing
one memory. In Nietzsche’s thought of the eternal return, one
relives them all, remaining forever in the life one led: "This life
as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once
more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing
new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and
sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will
have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence -
even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even
this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is
turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of
dust!" (The Gay Science, s.341)
Omer Friedlander’s prose fragment for Limbo, concerns not
being able to remember, the strain to unearth a life lost to you:
“Remembering is excavating and my fingers plough the earth,
layer after layer, searching for the beating heart buried on a
mountain, surrounded by olive trees and limestone jutting out
like teeth. Instead, I dig up the leftovers, the rubbery grey of the
liver, the bleached root columns of the spine. Where is it? I can
feel it. It is waiting underground, like a cicada, for seven years.
The sky is the color of wet cement and I am stuck in amber, floating in formaldehyde, trapped in limbo.”
Each of the scenes in Limbo an Opera, is an attempt at
remembering, each a different take on memory’s fleeing
manifestation. This is the reason why the scenes are unlike one
another, diverse in their sound sight texture and movement.
None can be the memory, as that does not exist. Each scene is a
venture towards retrieving, recollecting; each a renewed invention
of our many selves, worlds, surroundings, assigned meanings,
unavailable emotions.
In each new opera project I direct, I find myself taking more
risks, more liberties, placing more at stake. In Socrate, our last
project, a piece of music by Erik Satie is transformed and made
into an opera; Limbo assembles ‘worlds’ in an attempt to suggest
what opera can become.