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Exclusive Review: Bayreuth Lohengrin
This review is reproduced from the October 2018 issue of Wagner Notes, the bimonthly publication of the Wagner Society of New York, which covers international reviews, Society events, and information on Wagner worldwide, and is included with membership.
From Rats to Moths — Yuval Sharon’s Lohengrin and the Bayreuth Season
Yuval Sharon, the first American to stage a new production at Bayreuth, has created a Lohengrin that is gorgeous and introspective yet very accessible, at least by Bayreuth standards. Focused on the fairy-tale aspects of the story but also on contemporary sexual politics, it features an exotic range of visual references, from Van Dyke’s paintings to the Disney movie Frozen to the BBC science fiction television series, Doctor Who, which has a cult following.
Many of the references and the look of the production are clearly not Sharon’s. A couple of years ago he replaced Alvis Hermanis as director. The project had a long gestation: the German husband-and-wife team of Neo Rauch (sets) and Rosa Loy (costumes), both famous artists, had been at work on it since 2012. Their well-established visual styles clearly contributed to the overall look, and it is stunning. Nietzsche described the overture as blue in color, and this is surely the bluest Lohengrin in history, with bright orange touches. Van Dyke’s influence shows up in the costumes, inspired by his portraits. Reinhard Traub’s lighting contributes greatly to the otherworldly feel of the whole affair. Sharon’s biggest contribution is to frame the work in stark, modern #MeToo terms, so that Elsa and Ortrud rise up against “corrupt men.” Lohengrin’s demands for blind faith and absolute trust are seen as unacceptably sexist, precluding “real love.”
Lohengrin, Act II: Lohengrin (Piotr Beczala) tying Elsa (Anja Harteros) to an insulator in the bridal chamber.
All Bayreuth photos: Enrico Nawrath.The opera takes place around a cartoonish rendition of an electric power plant and grid, framing the discussion in terms of electricity. In the opening scene, the plant is dormant, and in the program book Sharon explains that Brabant is “a land fallen from grace, without power or electricity,” which Lohengrin must bring, “similar to Lenin’s electrification of Russia.” When Lohengrin arrives, he immediately restarts the electricity, saving Elsa, who was about to be burned at the stake. But when he takes her to his bridal chamber, he uses electric cords to bind her to a giant insulator, becoming her oppressor. Elsa, whose tiny house is a replica of the Tardis—an old-fashioned British phone box painted vivid blue with a sort of antenna on top, which serves as a vehicle for time travel in the Doctor Who television series—is visited by Ortrud, whose normally deceptive warning becomes the catalyst for Elsa’s salvation: her rebellion against blind faith and tradition.
Hans Neuenfels’ fascinating Lohengrin production (2010–2017) was a dark inversion of the pious text and dealt with such questions as the post-Christian lack of faith, the destruction this causes and, significantly, whether power destroys love. The chorus was famously costumed as a bunch of laboratory rats. In Sharon’s production, the key figures all wear moth-like wings, and these take on great significance. For example, when Telramund and Lohengrin do battle (suspended on wires), Telramund loses a wing, which his minions then carry in a ceremony. Moths are, of course, drawn to light, but this seems to be more of a fairy-tale conceit that an overarching metaphor.
When Lohengrin vanishes and Gottfried shows up at the end, costumed to resemble a green monster, everyone else, even the Brabantians, drops dead except for Elsa and Ortrud. If the production has the feel of a tele- vision series, this is its season finale, leaving a mystery to be dealt with next year. Which could well be the case… In “Werkstatt Bayreuth” (Nietzsche’s term, later realized by Wolfgang Wagner), productions are frequently revised and reworked in successive seasons.
To my ear, Christian Thielemann is the finest Wagner conductor of our generation, and he led a vigorous, authoritative, deeply introspective reading of the score in the August 10 performance. The fabled Bayreuth chorus sang magnificently, as always.
Roberto Alagna, who had been cast for the title role three years ago, famously cancelled three days before the first rehearsal. Rescue came in the person of Polish tenor Piotr Beczala, whose youthful, bright, liquid tone, stamina, and fine phrasing made him a deeply sympathetic figure, not entirely in sync with Sharon’s darker characterization.
German soprano Anja Harteros brought power and stamina to her portrayal of Elsa, but her voice is simply too heavy for the role; she sounded more like an Ortrud. For that role, however, we had the great Waltraud Meier, making her first appearance here in 18 years; she has now retired the role. Occasionally she seemed to struggle, especially in “Fahrheim,” but her vivid dramatic portrayal carried the day. Polish bass-baritone Tomasz Konieczny was a superb Telramund, ferocious, with torrential power. Georg Zeppenfeld sang the role of King Henry with great dignity and beautiful tone.
James L. Paulk
James L. Paulk, a Society member, reviews for a number of opera and music publications.
[A version of this review appears in the current issue of the American Record Guide.—Ed.] -
Exclusive Review: The Ring in San Francisco
This review is reproduced from the August 2018 issue of Wagner Notes, the bimonthly publication of the Wagner Society of New York, which covers international reviews, Society events, and information on Wagner worldwide, and is included with membership.
Principals: I. Theorin, D. Brenna, G. Grimsley, J. Barton, F. Struckmann, D. Cangelosi, B. Jovanovich, K. Mattila, A. Silvestrelli, R. Aceto, S. Margita, R. Miller, B. Mulligan, J. Adams, S. Tappan, R. Tatum, L. McNeese, M. Citro, S. Cambidge, N. Birkland, L. Krumm, R. Rapier. San Francisco Opera Orchestra; D. Runnicles, cond.; F. Zambello, director; L. Feldman, assoc. director; M. Yeargan, designer; C. Zuber, costumes; M. McCullough, lighting; J. Hartley, S. Katy Tucker, projections; L. Pech, dance master; D. Maier, fight director; San Francisco Opera Chorus, I. Robertson, chorus master. Performances of June 26, 27, 29, 30, July 1, 2018.
Die Walküre, Act III: Valkyries watching Sieglinde (Karita Mattila) accept
Siegmund's sword from Brünnhilde (IréneTheorin).Exuberant enthusiasm characterized both the performance and the audience reaction to the third cycle of Francesca Zambello production of the Ring at the San Francisco Opera. The Orchestra under conductor Donald Runnicles filled the venerable War Memorial Opera House with an ocean of music and the audience responded with a tidal wave of applause. During intermission several people told me that they were so enthralled by the beauty of the orchestral sound that they could only concentrate on the music. His interpretation of the score was at times so exuberant that the orchestra overwhelmed the singers. Pacing was brisk throughout, and sometimes rushed, as in Siegfried’s Rhine Journey, but always compelling.
On stage an excellent ensemble of singing actors gave life to Zambello’s concept of the Ring as a human/feminist drama set in the contemporary United States. This was the third outing for the complete Zambello Ring (San Francisco Opera 2011, Washington National Opera 2016) and it remains one of the most thought-provoking and effective of all contemporary Ring productions. It is also one of the most accessible, as Zambello turns mythic characters into modern people with modern problems whose story unfolds through grand music.
For example, Wotan (Greer Grimsley) was a CEO/Master of the Universe but he could not avoid being ensnared by the vocal virtuosity of his slippery lawyer Loge (Stefan Margita), nor could he resist the large and persuasive voices of his wife Fricka (Jamie Barton), or lover Erda (Ronnita Miller).
The familiar story achieved new shades of meaning through skillful acting and staging. This was especially true of the two giants: except for their great height and metal hands, they not only looked human, but displayed painfully human emotions. In Das Rheingold, when Fasolt (Andrea Silvestrelli) sang about love, he was wooing Freia (Julie Adams), and she reciprocated by later showing her reluctance to leave him to go back to the loveless family of gods. In Götterdämmerung, Silvestrelli was a horny Hagen who clumsily pawed his half-sister Gutrune. Was Hagen just an evil man hungry for sex, or was he actually looking for love and a way to escape his father Alberich’s baleful influence? In Das Rheingold, while Fasolt sang of love, Fafner (Raymond Aceto) looked at him with the predatory gaze of a poisonous snake preparing to strike. Fafner soon found an excuse for murder in the dispute over the treasure. In Siegfried, he defeated Fafner appeared in his giant/human form to sing a tender death scene that sounded like an acknowledgment that he had wasted both life and treasure and was now passing his tainted legacy on to Siegfried. Aceto faced an additional vocal and acting challenge when he took on Hunding in Die Walküre, a reprehensible character who exemplified the need for the #MeToo movement.
The Ring is huge but it is made up of many telling details that great artists may utilize, with small words leading to serious consequences. A few of the highlights: In the first scene of Das Rheingold in order to steal the gold, Alberich (Falk Struckmann) renounces love with a curse: “So verfluch ich die Liebe!” In this phrase the word Liebe consists of only two syllables sung to two musical notes but Struckmann managed to endow it with a universe of meaning, for indeed love, or the lack thereof, was the primary motivation for all that followed.
In Die Walküre, the father-son relationship between Wotan and Siegmund could be summed up in two words and some heavy breathing. In Act I Siegmund (Brandon Jovanovich) sang “Wälse, Wälse” as a powerful invocation to an absent father who quickly responded with a sword and a lover leading to a glorious duet with Sieglinde (Karita Mattila). In Act II, Wotan (Greer Grimsley) sank into deep despair after he was forced to agree not to protect his son. He punctuated his anguished cry of “das Ende, das Ende!” with the heavy breathing of a dying man. This breath of death was later heard from Siegmund as he died in the arms of his father Wotan.
At the end of Act II of Siegfried, Siegfried (Daniel Brenna) told the Forest Bird, “ich bin so allein” and sang this simple phrase with such depth of feeling that it illuminated another key concept: loneliness and separation. Siegfried was destined to die with only the memory of Brünnhilde as a farewell song.
By the final scene of Götterdämmerung, Brünnhilde (Iréne Theorin) was also alone. She had lost everything, including her parents, sisters, and two husbands. She was left with only the magic of her glorious voice to redeem the world through the healing power of music. As the final notes faded, a young girl in a white dress came to the front of the stage and planted a tree, a sign of hope for a new beginning.
Ellen Scaruffi
Ellen Scaruffi, Ph.D., a Society member, is a veteran of several Zambello Ring cycles.
Die Walküre, Act I: Sieglinde (Karita Mattila) embracing Siegmund (Brandon Jovanovich). Siegfried, Act III: Wanderer (Greer Grimsley) challenged by Siegfried (Daniel Brenna). © Wagner Notes, a publication of the Wagner Society of New York 2018. All rights reserved.