‘The opera Die Harmonie der Welt is without any doubt one of Hindemith’s major works,’ states Giselher Schubert at the start of his booklet; indeed, it is perhaps the major post-war work by this composer. Hindemith first seems to have contemplated an opera on the polymath Johannes Kepler in the late 1930s, in the wake of Mathis der Maler. However, exile from Nazi Germany and a sense that he needed more time before tackling what would be a magnum opus meant that not until 1955 was serious work started on the libretto, although, as with Mathis two decades before, he had already written a symphony using themes reserved for the opera.

There are also superficial similarities in subject treatment between the two stage works. Die Harmonie der Welt is an opera about an astronomer-cum-philosopher rather than science, just as Mathis had been about an artist, not painting. Kepler’s career is set in the context of his time, culminating in the tumultuous Thirty Years’ War (1618-48), just as Grünewald’s had been set against the 16th-century Peasants’ Revolt. Yet Kepler is not so involved in the whirl of events as was Mathis; rather he stands apart from them, concerned increasingly just to resolve his theories about the harmony of the world. His view differs greatly from those around him, particularly the main political protagonist, Wallenstein, whom Kepler is nonetheless content to have as patron. Yet in the end his search is vain and he dies with the word ‘Futile’ on his lips.

By the time of the première, Hindemith’s star had waned and some critical reaction regarded the opera also as futile, especially when compared to Cardillac and Mathis. But in several respects Die Harmonie is just as successful musically, its symphonic coherence and integration more consistently achieved than in earlier stage works and the composer had indeed grown as a creative artist. If some of the characterisation is two-dimensional, this is made to serve the symbolic aspects of the whole, most clearly in the final scene as the main characters assume celestial roles in a cosmic passacaglia, the incandescent culmination of which truly raises the roof.

Marek Janowski directs a splendidly paced and committed performance, with some fine singing and playing from the forces of Berlin Radio. François Le Roux turns in a thoughtful and multi-faceted account of Kepler, with Robert Wörle’s conniving but ultimately doomed Wallenstein and Christian Elsner’s Ulrich the pick of the rest, though mention must be made, too, of Tatiana Korovina as Kepler’s wife, Susanna. Recorded in the Jesus-Christus-Kirche, Berlin, the sound is clear and spacious (befitting an opera with astronomical overtones), the acoustic and balance serving the music better than in most theatres. A marvellous achievement, strongly recommended.