The recently published facsimile edition of Viktor Ullmann’s “Der Kaiser von Atlantis” reveals the historical depth of focus of his chamber opera, composed in Theresienstadt, and thereby offers an important resource for performance practice.
The facsimile edition of Viktor Ullmann’s “Der Kaiser von Atlantis”, published by Bärenreiter-Verlag and edited by Heidy Zimmermann and the Paul Sacher Stiftung, opens new perspectives for performance practice.
An autocratic ruler takes off, hermetically sealed in a cube that seems to be both a screen and a cage at the same time. The only acoustic links between this Emperor Overall and the outside world, as described in the prologue by librettist Peter Kien, are the Loudspeaker, “which we do not see, only hear” and the Drummer, “a phenomenon who isn’t entirely real, like the radio”. Four further stylised characters – a soldier, girl/Bubikopf, Death and Pierrot/Harlequin – complete the cast, which was strongly influenced by when it was composed and yet appears to be detached from any particular time. A new production is currently running in Mainz, which draws on the theme of the media and translates it to the present. Director Ana Cuéllar Velasco describes the Emperor as “a narcissist with a compulsion to control”, reinterpreting the Stroke of Death as his own patronising gift of eternal life – and immediately allows this to circulate as Fake News.
The facsimile contains the score and libretto, together with essays on important points of reference. What is always the same throughout time is the evident craving of such a ruler for personal recognition, which Kien and Ullmann caricature in a varied play of textual and musical references as described by John Gabriel in his essay “Zitat und stilistische Allusion im Kaiser von Atlantis/ Quotation and Stylistic Allusion in Der Kaiser von Atlantis”. Kien has the Drummer recite an absurd list of titles in the aria “Wir, zu Gottes Gnaden, Overall”, recalling the Habsburg Emperor, and to this Ullmann composes the distorted melody of the German national anthem, contorted into the Phrygian mode. Kien possibly alluded to “Deutschland, Deutschland, über alles” with the name of the Emperor “Overall” and thereby inspired this setting (Heidy Zimmermann).
However convincing this aria is, the problem remains – is it the composer’s final version? The facsimile shows that the complete aria was crossed out again. The question of whether this cut was made because of censorship, self-censorship or resulted more from philosophical-religious than political motivation, is also discussed in essays by Zimmermann, Gabriel and Ingo Schultz. In the performance material published by Schott Music, the “version with the quotation of the Emperor’s Hymn or the German national anthem is given preference, and the later version is published in the Appendix” (Andreas Krause).
It is not only the Drummer’s aria, but also the conclusion of the work that raises questions. With the various documents reproduced – including the full score, the manuscript and typewritten libretto, the essays and a synopsis of the different versions of the text – the facsimile supplies all the material needed for scholars to immerse themselves musically and dramaturgically in this opera. Amy Lynn Wlodarski writes about the work’s reception history, stating that “every stage performance by the Emperor ... reflects the external politics of memory and the artistic climate in which it is received”. Whilst the first productions since the first performance in 1975 wrestled with the issue of whether the holocaust can be depicted at all, more recent productions approach the opera like Katrin Hammerl in 2019 at the Theater Basel: “For me the work is timeless and supertemporal.”
A bleak work, or one which conveys hope because death overcomes the oppressors? At any rate, Ullmann’s and Kien’s opera is a timelessly valid, strong voice against totalitarianism and tyranny.
Diana Rothaug
(from [t]akte 1/2026)
(translation: Elizabeth Robinson)