The Met Ring. Cycle II starting with Rheingold Thurs 26th April 2012 (also see separate notes on Rheingold). Die Walkure. Saturday 28th April 2012. 11am. Siegfried Monday 30th April; Gotterdamerung 3rd April (evenings)
Why bother writing about it?
It would be a challenge to describe what happens during the fifteen hours of vocal drama in the Lapage Ring at the Met this spring - and one I am not equal to. I tried for Rheingold and hardly began to describe what happened in the introductory two and a half hours in my summary. Furthermore, the operas have now all been broadcast to the cinemas of the world, mostly by direct transmission - exceptions being Japan, Australia and the Far East where delayed showings are necessary due to unfriendly time zones.
The singers.
Apart from the novel production, the vocal high points are well known … for example The Woodbird’s songs, Ride of the Walkyries, Brunnhilde’s war cry, Wotan’s monologue, Wotan’s farewell, Wintersturme, Du bist de lenz, Gibichungs’ chorus, (de rigueur!) the ‘fat lady singing’ (Siegfried love duet) and the immolation scene, to name just a few.
Regarding the ‘large lady’, neither Brunnhilde this year is big. A slight Katarina Dalayman sang with great confidence, ease and beauty. Intriguingly she omitted the high note at the end of Siegfried, despite hitting lots of other high, almost icy notes in the lead-up. Ms Westbroek did not scream as the sword (Notung) was pulled from the (‘two-plank’) tree trunk … she did, however, collapse at that moment with a great limp fall center stage. Her Sieglinde was exemplary. In a second Die Walkure we heard the Brunnhilde of Deborah Voigt, now again a slender and elegant singer but no better than Ms Dalayman and perhaps less balanced in her delivery.
There were two last minute changes, one major and one minor. Mr Gelb came out on stage before Die Walkure and related Mr Kaufmann’s illness and the serendipitous availability of Mr van Acken, husband of Ms Westbrook (Sieglinde) in real life back in Holland. A disappointed patron near me shouted “refund!” It was 11am Saturday morning when few people would envisage going to an opera, let alone in these disastrous circumstances.
The Dutch replacement tenor Mr van Acken sang creditably but was not quite in his wife’s class. I don’t know how he learned the production in just a few hours! And his German seemed fine. The next performance of Die Walkure (cycle III) which I was also lucky enough to attend, had Australian tenor Stuart Skelton in the role of Siegmund and he was magnificent, even allowing for compatriotism. The audience applause was rapturous for this consummate artist who, although also a stand-in, was amongst equals on the Met stage in this role which Placido Domingo had made his own for the past 15 years in this city.
Having sung brilliantly in Rhinegold, Eric Owens’ illness saw Alberich played by Richard Paul Fink in the Gotterdamerung role. The other cast members are mostly well known - and that is why they are singing at the Met. Adam Diegel performed Froh with great dignity. His rare and rounded tenor voice for his small part in Rheingold revealed a great talent which I would like to hear in other more major roles. The confidence and elegance of Bryn Terfel as Wotan also warrants noting and he is now a true Wagnerian of the highest calibre in my view.
Jay Hunter Morris has a pleasant, highly placed tenor voice with the staying power needed for Siegfried. Stephanie Blythe is a marvel as Fricka. The other singers in this year’s Met Ring were all of the highest calibre, too numerous to name in these superficial notes.
“The machine” (all 48 tons of it!).
The set for all four operas consists of 24 rotatable ‘flattened’ isosceles triangles each set on a horizontal axis which can be raised and lowered from the floor level to about half way up the proscenium. Hence one side of each ‘plank’ is flat while the other has an angle of about 150 degrees as part of the ‘cog’. This convenient angle was used for the riverbank to great effect in the first opera as well as in perhaps a hundred other discrete and moving tableaux during the long saga ending back in the same place a full week later.
One of the most realistic and effective uses for the planks was to form tree trunks. The ‘planks’ are actually made of some sort of interactive self-illuminating material which, like a computer screen, can change colours and patterns, presumably controlled by some computerised cue system. There was also highly focused projection onto them and sometimes it was not clear if the present effect was one or the other or both used together.
The opening in Siegfried was brilliantly evocative with a depiction of the forest floor in close-up. Then, as the set rose, the vista changed to the roots, worms and insects in crevices below the ground. There was also real beauty in the representations of the tree bark, leaf shadows, roots, snakes, birds and other forest dwellers. At other times one was transported to an open rural landscape, a waterfall, stormy waves breaking, snow storm and other dramatic and usually very beautiful scenes.
The ‘machine’ makes some clicks and clunks at time, but no more than one often hears with standard stage machinery. Those sitting in the front of the auditorium may have heard the pneumatic sounds of the centre of gravity of the planks rising which followed it by a few seconds each time. Again, the nuisance value was modest and the benefits included being able to be as close as ever to Wagner’s specific instructions for his epic drama. After the callisthenic displays, I was happy when the ‘machine’ stopped moving for extended periods and one could focus on the marvellous palette it had created for the drama we were experiencing.
Some high-points of the production.
Both Rhinemaiden scenes were magnificent … the first with suspended singers/swimmers and riverbank settings. The final one saw the ladies slipping and sliding on the most spectacular sloping rocks amid flowing water (which evocatively turned red when Gunter washed his hands of Siegfried’s blood).
The Norns’ rope weaving scene was very cleverly and tastefully done. Two dozen strands appeared as the curtain went up, each issuing from one of the plank ends. These are about the only unfortunate and less-than-attractive points of the ‘machine’ … they look like temporary riveted letter boxed lined up. The 24 suspended strands made three substantial ropes, one for each Norn. These then joined into a major rigging which in turn shred and perished as the sorry story requires.
The snow storm opening Walkure was indeed spectacular and immensely beautiful. It is hard to describe the electric feeling that can be elicited by this unique orchestral introduction to the following 5 hours of glorious musical drama. I have often complained about directors deciding to put stage events to overtures or preliminary music which were originally intended to be unaccompanied ‘symphonia’. Lepage has here put two simple but beautiful video images to his audience, starting with constant breaking waves on a shoreline followed by a quite realistic snow storm across the screen. Following all of this activity on stage, Hunding’s house with central tree was presented as ordered by the book.
One of the most memorable stage tricks of all time MUST be Lepage’s serpent appearing in response to Alberich’s transmutation using the Tarnhelm … to the shock and/or hilarity of the packed Met audience, the front of a gnashing skeletal horror figure appeared on the right side of the stage with the corresponding tail flapping opposite, as if the beast went right around the theatre, town or perhaps the whole world! Next Tarnhelm trick saw the frog as a small, slimy and sedant character, easily caught up in the net of Loge and Wotan. Their plan was to pay off the castle Valhalla’s builders before the Giants took the agreed collateral being Freia, the goddess who grew the apples which kept all the gods from aging. Anna Russell said at this point in the story: “I am not making this up, you know!”
Fafner’s dragon cave was indeed impressive as was the blow-up out-sized nematode-headed beast. To go further would be unfair on those intent on seeing this production which is bound to become a classic. Not that everyone has to like it … but I do.
Maestro Fabio Luisi, producer Robert Lepage and their musical and artistic colleagues deserve many accolades for this marvellous addition to the Wagner canon. This production might be the closest to Wagner’s detailed instructions for the operas, some of which are seemingly impossible to physically enact on a 'normal' stage (like the famous ship sinking in La Gioconda by Ponchielli). With the projections and moving-plank stage virtually anything is possible. There must be innumerable others who should be credited with getting this enormous undertaking realised.
Maestro Fabio Luisi, producer Robert Lepage and their musical and artistic colleagues deserve many accolades for this marvellous addition to the Wagner canon. This production might be the closest to Wagner’s detailed instructions for the operas, some of which are seemingly impossible to physically enact on a 'normal' stage (like the famous ship sinking in La Gioconda by Ponchielli). With the projections and moving-plank stage virtually anything is possible. There must be innumerable others who should be credited with getting this enormous undertaking realised.
Speaking of which: some criticisms.
By the end of the long act I of Gotterdamerung we had some gratuitous and pointless uses of the planks to no particular dramatic purpose. It was as if the director was saying … ‘the opera is nearly over but look what I can do with the controls’. At one point numerous planks were literally spinning, making some for some unpleasant noises as well as frantic movements on stage. The opening of Act II of Gotterdamerung was immensely beautiful with a huge wall of small concentric circles of red and yellow with three niches for three statues of Wotan, Donner and Frika (these explode at the end). However, rather than the curtain just rising to this, the team insisted on twisting and turning their machine in order to form it, taking one’s attention away from the glorious orchestral introduction.
Erda’s ‘sermons’ were solid and well delivered by Patricia Bardon when she was woken. In Siegfried she reappears with her long white hair wearing a full length dress make of pieces of black pietra dura, appropriate perhaps for an Earth Goddess. If others can get away with a dress made of meat I suppose biotite mica is equally possible. It reflected rather uncomfortably in the curtain calls and I don’t think that this heavy igneous style will take on more widely.
It was an enormous privilege to join over 4000 people on this glorious Rhine journey … and for untold more in cinema-land.
Comments by Andrew Byrne ..
Opera blog: http://andrewsopera.blogspot.com/
