Die Meistersinger, in concert at the Proms, 17 July 2010

Wagner’s Meistersinger scales the heights of comedy, passion, youthful energy and mature wisdom. It’s a magnificent opera and should produce some wonderful productions, though I saw a real horror last summer at Bayreuth! In such a case one is better off with a concert performance, which of course this was, and it was terrific. The music was played with clarity and unflagging energy from the orchestra of the Welsh National Opera under the direction of Lothar Koenigs, and the cast was the same as their recently acclaimed production. Unfortunately the men were all in plain black, with no nod to the costumes, except for an apron for Hans Sachs in Act II, befitting his role as a cobbler, inundated with worried neighbours wanting to talk, and claiming uncomfortable shoes to justify their visits. This is where Amanda Roocroft as Eva interacted so well with Bryn Terfel as Sachs, their body language as eloquent as their words. Both of them sang magnificently, and Terfel gave a wonderfully nuanced performance. He built up gradually through Acts I and II, and in Act III his Wahn monologue was beautifully done, and he ended very strongly with his Verachtet mir die Meister nicht . . .

Christopher Purves was a superbly arrogant and insecure Beckmesser. He sang wonderfully, and his chewing up of the prize song was a lovely comic turn, but what a pity the translation in the libretto missed a trick in line two, translating ‘Blut’ as ‘blossom’ when it means ‘blood’ — Beckmesser has mistakenly sung Blut instead of Blüt. The last time I saw Purves he sang an excellent Tonio in I Pagliacci at the ENO, another role for a foolish and rejected lover, but I imagine his abilities go beyond these comic roles, and he’s surely a rising star. Andrew Tortise also sang beautifully as David, temporarily abandoning his beautiful tone as he made a gloriously deliberate mess of his first attempt at Am Jordan Sankt Johannes stand early in Act III. Anna Burford did well as Magdalena, and only Raymond Very as Walther was disappointing. His voice lacked youthful energy and did not come over well in the huge Albert Hall, though on the BBC recording the microphone seems to have picked up his voice far better. In close-up on the television he looked fine, if a little old for the part, but in the Hall his little white beard and poor posture made him look like a middle-aged version of Beckmesser.

The orchestra of less than seventy players, apart from some extra brass in the second part of Act III, produced big sounds when necessary yet managed to feel almost like a chamber orchestra at times. The chorus was magnificent, and witnessing Meistersinger in the Albert Hall with these performers was an uplifting experience. For such a feast of music one really wants the dynamic range afforded by a large auditorium, and I applaud The Proms for their first performance of this opera.

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, Deutsche Oper Berlin, Wagner Wochen, February 2010

Rossini’s comment that, “Wagner has lovely moments but awful quarters of an hour” was spoken before Die Meistersinger was created, and this opera has, for me, not a dull moment — it’s one glorious thing after another. Of course a determined director can spoil it, as happened at Bayreuth this past summer in Katharina Wagner’s diabolical production, but here in Berlin the production by Götz Friedrich was a wonderful antidote. The church pews became visible during the overture, the houses of Sachs and Pogner were opposite one another, the Flieder bush was visible on stage in Act II, and Sachs breathed its scent during his Flieder monologue. All this is as it should be, and I loved the sets by Peter Sykora, who collaborated with Kirsten Dephoff on the nineteenth and twentieth century costume designs. The production had a sense of movement and spontaneity, and on the fields outside Nuremberg the opening events of the final scene were enlivened by acrobats, and a wonderful charade with the tailors, their goatskin, and men dressed in armour, showing how they protected the city from a long siege by pretending it still had frisky goats inside.

Within this delightful production we had Klaus Florian Vogt as a glorious Walther, with Michaela Kaune as a lovely Eva, both having sung these same roles in Bayreuth last July. Beckmesser was brilliantly performed by Markus Brück, clearly sung, amusingly pompous and clumsy, but never over the top. Kristinn Sigmundsson was a strong Pogner with fine stage presence, and Paul Kaufmann and Ulrike Helzel did well as David and as Eva’s confidante Magdalena. James Johnson sang a very sympathetic Hans Sachs, and though he was a little underpowered and lacking in stage presence, he interacted well with the other cast members. The chorus sang strongly, and the conducting by Donald Runnicles never flagged, never went over the top, and gave the singers plenty of space.

As I said, this was the perfect antidote to the nonsense from Bayreuth, and I’m delighted I came to Berlin to see it.

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, Bayreuther Festspiele, July 2009

At the end of this opera, Hans Sachs sings a wonderful soliloquy on the importance of preserving German art against alien threats and invasions. How ironic then that this production is entirely alien to Wagner’s great opera, and only by keeping ones eyes closed and ignoring the indescribable nonsense on stage can one preserve the great art of Wagner’s music. Who could do such a thing to so wonderful an opera? And do it at Wagner’s own festival, in the opera house he founded? Surely the Wagner family, guardians of the great man’s legacy, would not allow one of his works to serve as a background on which a confused person can hang a lot of grossly impertinent and even grotesque staging. Who on earth was able to get away with this?

The answer is, I’m afraid, a member of the Wagner family, one who obviously lacks the self-discipline necessary for true creativity. This is someone whose narcissism seeks attention by shocking the audience, and by extension the world outside Bayreuth. But surely the administrators of the Festival will do away with such stuff? No chance, because the producer has put this on before, and has now become co-administrator. If anyone thought that might have tempered her wish to outrage the audience and shriek out her own inadequacy, they were mistaken, because this year’s production of Meistersinger was apparently even more ludicrous than last year’s.

It is useless to try listing the follies and contradictions that make this production so incoherent, and the only interest can be in the singers and conductor. It is clear that Bayreuth no longer attracts the calibre of singers it used to, so they were very lucky to have a superb Walther in the person of Klaus Florian Vogt, who sang like a god. Adrian Eröd was a very strong Beckmesser, as was Norbert Ernst as David, and Alan Titus a pleasingly solid Hans Sachs. Pogner was Artur Korn, with Michaela Kaune as his daughter Eva and Carola Guber as her nurse Magdalena, but they could not rise above the production. Conducting was by Sebastian Weigle, who did a good job with the invisible orchestra, but missed some highlights, though it is difficult to blame him when he has to watch the appalling nonsense on stage. At the end there was enthusiastic applause for some of the singers, particularly Klaus Florian Vogt, and hearty boos for the producer, Katharina Wagner.

This appalling nonsense was worse by far than yesterday’s dour production of Tristan, which is really saying something.