Cameron Neylon

On Friday night we went down to London to see the final night of the
English National Opera's run of Doctor Atomic, the new opera from John
Adams with a libretto by Peter Sellars. The opera focuses on the days
and hours leading up to first test firing of an atomic bomb at the
Trinity site on 15 July 1945. The doctor of the title is J Robert
Oppenheimer who guided the Manhattan Project to its successful
conclusion and the drama turns around him as the lynch pin connecting
scientists, engineers, the military and politicians. The title recalls
the science fiction novels of the 50s and 60s as but the key reference
is to Thomas Mann's much earlier doctor, Faust.

Sellars made the intriguing choice of drawing the libretto from archival
documents, memoirs, recollections and interviews. The libretto places
the words of the main protagonists in their own mouths; words that are
alternately moving, disturbing, and dry and technical. These literal
texts are supplemented with poetry drawn from Oppenheimer's own
interest. John Donne's Holy Sonnet XIV, apparently the source of the
name of the test site, Baudelaire, and the Bhagadavad Gita (which I
learnt from the programme that Oppenheimer taught himself Sanskrit to
read) all play a role. The libretto places the scientists in their
historical context, giving them the human motivations, misgivings, and
terrors, as well as the exhultation of success and the technical genius
that lead to their ultimate success. The question is, does this
presentation of science and scientists in the opera hall work?

The evening starts well, with a periodic table projected onto a sheer
curtain. It appears to be drawn fromÂ  textbook circa 1945, with gaps
beneath cesium, below manganese, and between neodymium and samarium. The
choice is clever, providing a puzzle for people with all level of
scientific experience; what is it; what do the symbols mean; why are
there gaps; what goes into the gaps? It also leads into the first chorus
"We beleived, that matter can neither be created nor destroyed, but only
altered in form...". Unfortunately at this point things began to fall
apart, the chorus and orchestra appearing to struggle with the
formidable rythmic challenges that Adam's had set them. The majority of
the first half felt largely shapeless, moments of rythmic and dramatic
excitement lost within large tracts of expository and largely atonal
semi-recitative.

Gerald Finley and Sasha Cooke were both in magnificent voice throughout
but given limited opportunities for lyrical singing. The trademark
rythmic drive of Adam's previous works seems broken to pieces throughout
the first Act, the chorus is used sparingly and the orchestra rarely
feeling like it is moving beyond a source of sound effects. Act 1 is
redeemed however by powerful closing scene in which Oppenheimer, in the
shadow of the Trinity device, sings a lyrical and despairing setting of
the Donne, "Batter my heart, three person'd God", punctuated with a
driving orchestral interlude reminiscent of the more familar Adam's of
Klinhoffer and Nixon in China. The effect is shattering, leaving the
audience reflective in the gap between acts, but is also dramatically
puzzling. Up until now Oppenheimer has show few doubts, now suddenly he
seems to be despairing.

The second half started more confidently, with both chorus and orchestra
appearing to settle. The second half is better organised and touches the
heights of Adams' previous work but opportunities are missed. The chorus
and orchestra again seem under utilised but more generally the
opportunity for effective musical treatment seems to be missed. The
centre of the second act revolves around the night before the test, and
the fears of those involved; fear that it won't work, that the stormy
weather will lead to the device detonating, the fears of General Groves
that the scientists will run amok, and the, largely unspoke, fear of the
consequences of the now inevitable use of the bomb in warfare. During
the extended build to the climax and end of the opera the leads stand
spread across the front of the stage, singing in turn, but not together,
expressing their separate fears and beliefs but not providing the
dramatic synthesis that would link them all together. Leo Szilard's
petition to Truman is sung in the first half by Robert Wilson as part of
the introduction but not used, as it might have been, as a dramatic
chorus in the second half.

But the core dramatic failure lies in the choice of the test itself as
the end and climax of the opera. In todays world of CGI effects and
surround sound it is simply not feasible to credibly treat an atomic
explosion on a theatre stage or in an orchestral treatment. The tension
is built extremely effectively towards the climax but then falls flat as
the whole cast stand or crouch on stage, waiting for something to
happen, the orchestra simulating the countdown through regular clock
like noises all going at different rates. The flash that signals the
explosion itself is simply a large array of spots trained on the
backdrop. The curtain drops and a recording of a woman asking for water
in Japanese is played. Moving yes, dramatically satisfying? No.

We do not see the consequences of the test. We don't see the, undoubted,
exhultation of scientists achieving what they set out to do. Nor do we
see their growing realisation of the consequences. We are shown in short
form the human consequences of the use of the weapon but not the way
this effects the people who built the weapon. Ultimately as an
exploration of the inner world of Oppenheimer, Teller, and the other
scientists it feels as though it falls short. Given the inability to
represent the explosion itself my personal choice would have been to let
the action flow on, to the party and celebration that followed, allowing
the cast to drift away gradually sobering and leaving Oppenheimer
finally on stage to reprise the Donne.

The Opera is moving because we know the consequences of what followed. I
found it dramatically unsatifying for both structural reasons and
because it did not take the full opportunity to explore the complexities
of the motivations ofÂ  the scientists themselves. There are two
revealing moments. In the first half, having heard the impassioned
Wilson reading Leo Szilard's petition, Oppenheimer asks Wilson how he is
feeling. The answer; "pretty excited actually", captures the tension at
the heart of the scientists beautifully, the excitement and adventure of
the science, and the fears and disquiet over the consequences. In the
second act, Edward Teller comes on stage to announce that Fermi is
taking bets as to whether the test will ignite the atmosphere. He goes
on at some length as to how his calculations suggested this would
happen, Oppenheimer telling him to shut up, saying that Bethe had
checked the figures. Teller continues to grandstand but then agrees
magnanimously that he has now revised his figures and the world will not
come to an end. Humour or arrogance? Or the heady combination of both
that is not an unusual characteristic amongst scientists.

These flashes of insight into the leads minds never seem to fully
explored, merely occasionally exposed. Later in Act 2 Teller teases
Oppenheimer and the other scientists for placing bets on explosive
yields for the device much lower than they have calculated. We never
find out who was right. The playful, perhaps childish, nature of the
scientists is exposed but their response after the test is not
dissected. What was the response of those betting when they realised
they knew exactly what the yield of the device to be dropped on
Hiroshima was? Were the bets paid out or abandoned in disgust? The opera
draws on the Faust legend for inspiration but the drama of Faust turns
on the inner conflict of the scientist and the personal consequences of
the choices made, things we don't see enough of here.

Finally there is the question of the text itself. The chorus is
restricted largely to technical statements. Richard Morrison, reviewing
in the Times (I don't seem to be able to find the review in question
online) said that Adams struggled to bring poetry to some of these
texts. It seems to be though, that there is poetry here for the right
composer. I was slightly dissappointed that Adams was not that composer.
Don't let me put you off seeing this. It is not one of the great operas
but it is very good and in places very powerful. It has flaws and
weaknesses but if you want to spend your life waiting for perfection you
are going to need to be very patient. This is a good night at the opera
and a moving drama. We just need to keep waiting for the first
successful opera on a scientific subject.

> We believed that  
> "Matter can be neither  
> created nor destroyed  
> but only altered in form."

> We believed that  
> "Energy can be neither  
> created nor destroyed  
> but only altered in form."

> But now we know that  
> energy may become matter,  
> and now we know that  
> matter may become energy  
> and thus be altered in form.  
> \[....\]
>
> We surround the plutonium core  
> from thirty two points  
> spaced equally around its surface,  
> the thirty-two points  
> are the centers of the  
> twenty triangular faces  
> of an icosahedron  
> interwoven with the  
> twelve pentagonal faces  
> of a dodecahedron.  
> We squeeze the sphere.  
> Bring the atoms closer.  
> Til the subcritical mass  
> goes supercritical.
>
> We disturb the stable nucleus.
>
> From the Chorus Text, Act I Scene I, Dr Atomic, Libretto arranged by
> Peter Sellars from a variety of texts, copyright Boosey and Hawkes

[Doc Bushwell](http://scienceblogs.com/bushwells) has also [reviewed Dr
Atomic](http://scienceblogs.com/bushwells/2008/11/doctor_atomic_a_brilliant_lumi.php)


On Friday night we went down to London to see the final night of the English National Opera’s run of Doctor Atomic, the new opera from John Adams with a libretto by Peter Sellars. The opera focuses on the days and hours leading up to first test firing of an atomic bomb at the Trinity site on 15 July 1945.

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Do high art and science mix?