Music: Bluebeard on the Couch

Before Freud, Bluebeard was a fairytale monster with a pleasantly chilling tendency toward murder. After Freud, Bluebeard’s libido became a subject for reexamination. The late composer Bela Bartok and Librettist Bela Balasz were quick to see the possibilities, in 1911 put the theory into the form of a one-act opera, Bluebeard’s Castle. It was staged for the first time in the U.S. last week by the New York City Opera.

Wife Judith, the fourth, enters the castle of Bluebeard’s soul, is consumed with curiosity about the seven doors to his subconscious. She coaxes his keys from him, one by one opens the doors to discover 1) his torture chamber, 2) his armory, 3) his treasury, 4) his secret garden, 5) his broad domain, 6) his vale of tears and, finally, 7) his three previous wives, alive, but all in trancelike states.

Judith realizes then that her husband cannot be fulfilled by any one woman: his first wife was dewy-fresh like the morning; the second was ardent noon; the third was a twilight sorrower. Too late, she makes her final discovery: her curiosity has gone too far. Bluebeard hands her the mantle of night, and she joins the others behind the seventh door. Judith is sung by Soprano Ann Ayars; her “inner self” is danced simultaneously by Mary Hinkson. Bluebeard is sung by James Pease (his inner self is the castle). All this had the first-night audience sitting on the edge of its seats—partly out of excitement, partly trying to make out what was going on. Grand opera fans found it pretty rough going—the music never hit upon a tune, the orchestra was heavy and even the best-pleased listeners took issue with such details as Bluebeard’s spidery costume and the static quality of the action. But psychoanalysis is popular in Manhattan. When it was all over, it looked as if Bluebeard’s Castle would be a successful part of the company’s repertory.