Letters From the Holocaust

The Holocaust has become a symbol of the great oppressions of the twentieth century: although it is shocking enough in its own right, it can stand as an emblem of the failure of the enlightenment project or a manifestation of humanity's inhumanity. As such, it is unsurprising that Andy Arnold choose to conclude Mayfesto with an idiosyncratic, yet bleak, tale from Nazi Germany, while Bernard MacLaverty's libretto for Scottish Opera examined an episode from the Polish occupation.

Without doubt, The Letter follows the more traditional telling: even the music is more classical than Scottish Opera's other 5:15 entries. The gradual destruction of a Jewish community is movingly and succinctly told, as the singers circle in doomed harmony.

Address Unknown is rarer: despite a static staging- it is an epistolary script- it offers an almost comic revenge on the casual Nazi that turns the usual "Jews as victims" trope upside-down. In this alone, it is a fascinating entry, and the cold finale is ironically hopeful. Yet with two strong performance, and  stark direction from Andy Arnold, this production does not allow the triumph to lighten the essential darkness of this battle of wits.

The Letter, equally, never allows the elegance and passion of the score to overwhelm the horror. That the cast parade around the stage in a perpetual circle, changing characters as they move but slowly heading towards an inevitable end, strips the opera of unnecessary glamour.

Whether either of these visions get beyond an already accepted sense of the Holocaust's immensity is doubtful: not only is it a powerful symbol, it is almost too powerful to comprehend, becoming a short-hand for inhumanity. Yet by bringing out these smaller, personal stories, both The Letter and Address Unknown are witnesses to the words that can escape the terror.