Francesca da Rimini, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, 17 March 2013

Seeing this opera for the second time in less than three year convinced me that it fills a much-needed gap in the repertoire. Clearly the cuts in London made by Opera Holland Park in 2010 were well judged. But if you’re one of the singers or the conductor or a member of the orchestra it must be hugely enjoyable to perform.

All images MetOpera/ Marty Sohl

Zandonai’s rich orchestration provides powerful moments, but also some tiresomely melodramatic music for action of a lighter vein. Act I was full of this, with extended passages for Francesca’s ladies in waiting. But full marks to the Met for reviving and screening Piero Faggioni’s beautifully artistic production from 1984 with its glorious costumes, nineteenth century impressionistic backdrop, and art nouveau concept of what the fourteenth century should look like. Ezio Frigerio’s sets, Franca Squarciapino’s costumes, Gil Wechsler’s lighting, and Donald Mahler’s elegantly subdued choreography all worked well, and cinema direction by Gary Halvorson was excellent.

A Rosenkavalier moment

The star role is Francesca, sung here by Eva-Maria Westbroek who remarked in the intermission that this sort of story is still going on in the world today. She is quite right. A girl is married to a man she doesn’t love, while being in love with someone else. She arranges clandestine meetings with her lover, and the family kills the two of them. Francesca is in love with the fair Paolo, whom she once believed was to be her husband. In fact it’s his malformed brother, Gianciotto, and the insane jealousy of the third brother, Maletestino brings a denouément in which Gianciotto kills both his wife Francesca and his brother Paolo.

Smaragdi and Francesca

As Paolo, Marcello Giordani evidently relished the role from a poetic point of view, according to his intermission interview, but in Act I he sounded strained on the high notes, though he warmed up considerably in Act II. Eva-Maria Westbroek as Francesca sang and acted with dramatic power, but lacked a more nuanced portrayal that might suggest character development. It was perhaps easier for Mark Delavan and Robert Brubaker as the more one-dimensional characters Gianciotto and Maletestino, and both sang with great conviction. Fine solo appearance in Act I by Philip Horst as Francesca’s scheming brother Ostasio, and Ginger Costa-Jackson sang a beautiful mezzo as Francesca’s confidante Smaragdi.

She sings of potions, and appears in Act III as a Brangaene-like character to Francesca’s Isolde, but this opera’s eclectic allusions to Tristan und Isolde, and Lancelot and Guinevere, along with the musical resonances with Strauss and Puccini, weaken it and obscure any creative focus. There were lovely moments however, such as the kiss at the end of Act III, where Francesca’s costume and body language mirrored the 1895 painting Flaming June by Frederic Leighton. Eva-Maria Westbroek sang a fine prayer in Act IV, and the sudden ending with two brothers left standing while Francesca and Paolo lie dead was a coup de theâtre.

Gianciotto, Malatestino, Paolo

Plenty of tension from the orchestra under Marco Armiliato, and thank you to the Met for a production so fine that I shall never feel the need to see this opera again. In the intermission features, Sondra Radvanovsky told Marcello Giordani that he had performed 27 operas at the Met, and gushingly asked if this was his favorite. He answered diplomatically, unlike a singer in a previous opera who responded less charitably to one of her questions.

Die Walküre, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, September 2012

A pivotal point in Wagner’s Ring is Act II scene 1 in Walküre where Fricka faces her husband Wotan. A strong presence is vital here and Sarah Connolly gave a superb portrayal, avoiding the danger of playing her as overbearing but firmly and gently persuading her husband that he is in serious error. It was beautifully done, and she kisses him before he asks Was verlangst du? Her demand that he abandon the Wälsung finally succeeds, and as the scene ends, Bryn Terfel’s Nimm den Eid (Take my oath) was sung with a gravelly resignation.

Valkyries, all images ROH/ Clive Barda

His representation of Wotan is more mature than during initial performances of this Keith Warner production seven or eight years ago, and he ranged from gentleness to fury with great conviction. In talking to Brünnhilde in Act II scene 2 he showed serious introspection as he sings of giving up his work and longing only for das Ende! Recalling the words of Erda that allude to Hagen’s birth signalling the end of the gods, moves him to real anger, and his In meinem Busen berg’ ich den Grimm (In my heart I hide the fury) was delivered with huge effect. The orchestral ending of that scene under Pappano’s direction was superb.

As Brünnhilde, Susan Bullock started rather nervously after the misfortune of needing help from a stagehand to detach her harness, but for a performer to make her first entrance down a forty-foot ladder is surely a bit of an ordeal. She warmed up later, and at the start of Act III scene 3 her War es so schmählich (Was it so shameful), delivered initially without orchestral accompaniment, was beautifully sung.

Siegmund and Sieglinde

The final ending was an orchestral triumph, and so was the beginning with Pappano delivering a feisty prelude including wonderful thunder from the kettledrum after Siegmund enters, and beautiful playing from the solo cello. When John Tomlinson later enters as Hunding, driving his axe into the table, the drama moves into top gear and his initial Du labtest ihn? was unusually powerful. Followed by his Heilig ist mein Herd (Holy is my hearth), including a brief handshake with Siegmund, it became quite clear who was master here. A hugely commanding portrayal, only rivalled by La Scala’s new production in December 2010 with — wait for it — Tomlinson again. Yet in Act II after facing Siegmund with Wotan taking a hand, he suddenly shows uncertainty and fear, and rightly so as Wotan drives his spear into him, having done the same to Siegmund.

Valkyries and Terfel as Wotan

As Siegmund himself, Simon O’Neill gave a moving performance, singing with huge conviction and animation, and with fine chemistry between him and Eva-Maria Westbroek as Sieglinde. Faced later with Brünnhilde in Act II his So grüsse mir Walhall (Then greet Valhalla for me) was simply riveting. When Sieglinde awakes, the stage is suffused with new energy, and in Act III her emotional O hehrstes Wunder! Herrlichste Maid! was beautifully delivered, with a lovely ringing quality to her top notes.

Altogether a super Walküre, grounded by Bryn Terfel’s brilliant performance as Wotan. We shall miss him in the final opera, but his reappearance as the Wanderer in Siegfried on Saturday is eagerly anticipated.

There are four Ring cycles, the final Walküre being on October 28 — for details click here. There will also be a live broadcast on Radio 3 on October 18 at 4:45 pm, and Christmas broadcasts of Acts I, II and III on December 25, 26 and 27 at 4:30 pm.

Les Troyens, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, June 2012

As the Euro crisis deepens, it is salutary to see Cassandra on stage — her foresight ever accurate but never believed.

The City of Troy, all images ROH/ Bill Cooper

In the first part of this grand opera, Cassandra is the main character, superbly sung and acted by Anna Caterina Antonacci. It all starts with the chorus happily expressing their joy that the Greeks have been routed, but then Cassandra appears and the music abruptly changes mood. Les Grecs ont disparu! … but what dread plan lies behind their departure she asks. The first part leads up to the destruction of Troy, and is the perfect start to this great tale — pity Berlioz never lived to see it performed! A complete five-act production was first seen in Karlsruhe in 1890, 21 years after his death, but even then it was spread over two nights. Yet the whole thing takes a mere five and a half hours, including two half-hour intervals. Productions are rare, but it’s not the length alone — we’re used to that with Wagner — the trouble is you need a quiver full of first rate singers, including two brilliant performers in the mezzo roles of Cassandra and Dido, a Trojan horse, a ship, two walled cities, open countryside … oh, and two dance interludes.

The horse enters Troy to Cassandra’s consternation

Fortunately, David McVicar has overcome all difficulties in this new co-production with the Vienna State Opera, La Scala, and San Francisco Opera. He places the action in an undetermined time that could easily be seventeenth/ eighteenth century, which is not a problem. After all, scholarly opinion and tradition places the Trojan War about 1200 BC, Dido in the late ninth century, the founding of Rome in the mid-eighth century BC, and Troy had not yet been discovered when Berlioz wrote his opera. Costumes by Moritz Junge are wonderful, sets by Es Devlin (who is also designing the Olympic closing ceremony) are super, and lighting by Wolfgang Göbbel is magical. For instance in Act IV when Dido and Aeneas fully express their love, the model city that was on the ground turns upside down and suffused with a violet glow, its buildings twinkle with light as if it were the starry sky. The model city was a clever idea, and at the start of the second half when the Carthaginians sing with happy grace to their queen Dido, I almost expected her to respond Euch macht ihr’s leicht (Hans Sachs) … just kidding, but Moritz Junge’s costumes for this act reminded me of the final scene in Meistersinger, where Covent Garden’s staging includes model houses. Here, Dido tells us it is just seven years since she left Tyre to escape the murderer of her husband, and with the myth and history so well explained in Berlioz’s own libretto, this opera is Wagnerian in conception.

The happy people of Carthage surrounding Dido

The singing was terrific. Eva-Maria Westbroek was a gentle yet powerful Dido, Bryan Hymel gave a remarkable performance as Aeneas, and their rapturous duet in Act IV came over beautifully, enhanced by lovely changes of lighting. Hanna Hipp sang with great feeling as Dido’s sister Anna, and Brindley Sherratt was a striking vocal presence as her chief minister Narbal. Fabio Capitanucci came over strongly as Cassandra’s fiancé Coroebus, and Barbara Senator was entirely convincing as Aeneas’ son Ascanius. Excellent performances in all the solo roles, not just vocally but in terms of movement and stage presence. For example, Pamela Helen Stephen had huge presence as queen Hecuba of Troy, and Jihoon Kim was very effective as the ghost of Hector.

This massive team effort, with its magnificent chorus, was held together with consummate skill by Antonio Pappano in the orchestra pit, and as he said in a recent interview, this is just the sort of project the Royal Opera House should be undertaking. Quite right, and though there were some boos for the production team at the end, I didn’t understand why — it was a remarkable achievement. The Trojan horse’s head from the end of the first part was matched by a similar human torso and head at the end, which I took to indicate future battles between Carthage and Rome, brought on by Dido’s ritual curse of Aeneas and his descendents, and her foreknowledge of the mighty Hannibal.

A minstrel sings for Dido and Aeneas

McVicar’s production somehow manages to make sense of a world we have lost, where ghosts urge people on to great deeds, and gods issue commands. Perhaps some of our political leaders today would love to justify their actions as heeding urges of ghosts or gods, but in this remarkable story that’s what happens, and the production brings it to life. The Royal Opera have needed to score a goal, and they’ve got one here — it’s a beauty.

The performance on 5^th July will be streamed live on The Space, available at thespace.org, or by viewing on TV (Freeview HD channel 117). It will also be broadcast live on French television — information at www.mezzo.tv .

Performances at the Royal Opera House continue until July 11 — for details click here.

Il Trittico, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, September 2011

In performances of Puccini’s Il Trittico the first opera Il Tabarro often delivers the heaviest emotional punch, but not here. Suor Angelica knocked Tabarro right off the stage because of one person — Ermonela Jaho. She was … words fail me … sublime … ethereal. You have to beg, borrow or steal to get tickets for this show just to see her performance.

Suor Angelica with the other nuns, all photos ROH/Bill Cooper

She is so pure as she sings I desideri — desires are flowers of the living, and in death the Virgin Mother anticipates them all — yet after Anna Larsson as her aunt the princess arrives, cold and elegant in black, and carrying a lovely fox stole, Ms. Jaho starts to show real emotion, singing of her son, and asking for news of him. Her È morto? followed by her anguished cry, was as lyrical as it was powerful. In this production the abbess moves Angelica’s hand to sign the document, smiling obsequiously to the princess, contaminating the serene purity of the convent with her desire for the family’s money, and not a care in the world about Sister Angelica. When Ms Jaho has finished singing Senza mamma, with her cries of parlami, amore you know it’s the end for her. And when the end of the opera arrives what a huge triumph it is for Antonio Pappano in the orchestra pit and Ms Jaho on stage. A front drop comes down and Ms Jaho stands in a spotlight to thunderous applause.

Yet it was not just her — the rest of the cast was super, and Anna Larsson in particular was emotionally gripping as the princess. Even after an interval of 25 minutes one could not take another such drain on the emotions, and Gianni Schicchi was the perfect antidote.

Schicchi is the one in jeans and tee-shirt

This last opera of the evening was enormous fun, and the harmonically ostentatious pleading of the relatives produced delighted laughter from the audience. I loved the occasional disconnects in the music near the beginning, as if this were musical chairs, and Elena Zilio was an excellent Zita with Francesca Demuro superb as the young Rinuccio, so keen to marry the Lauretta of Ekaterina Siurina. As she sang O mio babbino caro to her father my only complaint is that this came over as a set piece aria, but Lucio Gallo as Schicchi gave a fine performance of a crafty peasant who can outwit the whole Donati family. Here was a man who could well use the mule, the mills, and give the house to his daughter as a wedding gift.

Il Tabarro — the set

Lucio Gallo was equally at home as Michele the barge owner in Il Tabarro, subdued and controlled yet still emotional. Richard Jones’s new production, with its set designs by Ultz was excellent, and I liked the way D.M. Wood’s lighting died down at the front of the stage towards the end. Alan Oke was superb as Tinca, and Anna Devin and Robert Anthony Gardiner were very good as the lovers. Aleksandrs Antonenko sang a hunky Luigi, but Eva-Maria Westbroek as Michele’s wife Giorgetta did not grip me. I’ve seen her give wonderful performances of Sieglinde, of Elisabeth in Tannhäuser, and even Minnie in Fanciulla, but after Irina Mishura’s Frugola has sung about her dream of a little house, and Giorgetta sweeps in with her own dream, È ben altro il mio sogno! Ms Westbroek lacked lyricism, and the duet with Luigi was disappointing. Pappano revved the orchestra up to glorious heights, but the singing didn’t rise to the same level.

Yet this Puccini trio of operas is a must-see for Antonio Pappano’s richly nuanced conducting, plus Richard Jones’s new production of Suor Angelica with Ermonela Jaho. I first saw her in January 2008 when she took over at short notice from Anna Netrebko in Traviata, and she was a knock-out. That’s a role she’ll repeat at Covent Garden in January 2012 — I shall be there!

Performances continue until September 27, with a starting time of 6:30 — for details click here.

Die Walküre, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, May 2011

The second act of Walküre is the axis about which the whole Ring turns, and I’ll restrict my remarks mainly to that part.

In the first Ring opera, Rheingold, Wotan is persuaded to give up the mighty ring that he stole from Alberich. This is when the earth goddess Erda appears from the depths warning him to Flieh’ des Ringes Fluch! (Flee the curse of the ring). Now his own wife, Fricka appears demanding he rescind his support for Siegmund who has broken the bonds of matrimony by taking Sieglinde from her loveless marriage. So often this comes over as a petulant moment, but Stephanie Blythe as Fricka exhibits a powerful presence, and in Robert Lepage’s brilliant production she rises from behind the stage set and, like Erda, compels Wotan to change his mind.

Wotan and Fricka, all photos Metropolitan Opera/ Ken Howard

The dialogue between her and Bryn Terfel as Wotan is superbly done, and as she demolishes his claims that Siegmund is a free agent, he is aghast. Yet Blythe manages not simply to demand, but cajole, becoming emotional and shedding tears. As she does so, Terfel’s Was verlangst du? (What do you ask/desire?) came through with heartfelt anguish, and by the time he sings Nimm den Eid! (Take my oath) he is utterly defeated. He then countermands his orders to Brünnhilde, who will later tell Siegmund of his fate. In scene 3 of Act II we find Siegmund and Sieglinde, superbly portrayed by Jonas Kaufmann and Eva-Maria Westbroek, as they reappear following their magnificent love scene in Act I. They showed wonderful chemistry together and after she falls asleep, and Brünnhilde appears to Siegmund alone, Kaufmann gave a riveting portrayal of his determination not to be defeated by Hunding, nor be a victim to Wotan’s change of heart. He showed immense nobility as he responded to Brünnhilde with So grüsse mir Walhall (Then greet Valhalla for me), and when he realises his fate is to die in battle, and tries to bring down the sword to kill both himself and Sieglinde, it is only Brünnhilde’s shield that stops him.

Siegmund and Sieglinde in Act I

This is a second turning point in Act II. If Brünnhilde had obeyed Wotan then the lovers would die and the gods would live on while Fafner continues guarding the ring. But it is not to be. Siegmund’s love has moved Brünnhilde to disobey Wotan, allowing Sieglinde to escape after the battle with Hunding, and as Siegmund lies mortally wounded she is spirited away. Wotan’s anguish was palpable as he cradles his own son, the dying Siegmund in his arms. Terfel is remarkable, brilliant, outstanding in his portrayal of Wotan. As he sweeps his arm sideways to dismiss Hunding, his emphasis is on the second Geh! Here is a god whose anger and frustration will lead eventually to the twilight of the gods.

Brünnhilde arrives on high carrying Sieglinde

In Act III the Valkyries tremble before Wotan’s arrival, declining to help Sieglinde. Brünnhilde then takes charge, deciding to send her to the East with the shards of Siegmund’s sword, and naming her unborn baby, Siegfried. Eva-Maria Westbroek then launched into Sieglinde’s O hehrstes Wunder! (Oh, most sublime miracle) as if it were the high point of the entire ring, and for her it was. We do not see her again. Yet although I may praise the singers for bringing out these high points to perfection, it was only through James Levine’s sensitive and powerful conducting that all this was possible. He brought huge emotion from the orchestra, building up to the great moments so that they came on the audience with enormous force. Levine’s conducting of the so-called Ride of the Valkyries was done without any of the bombast that sometimes spoils this orchestral prelude to the third act. His sensitive support of the singers, along with the staging in which the Valkyries could sing front-stage made the first two scenes of Act III come over beautifully.

The rather thankless role of Hunding in Act I, and briefly in Act II, was strongly sung by Hans-Peter König, and the entire cast sang superbly, including Deborah Voigt as Brünnhilde, though her facial expressions did not always suit the emotions she was expressing in the music. She was such a wonderful Isolde for the Met in 2008, but she is singing Brünnhilde for the first time, and I’m sure she will bring more depth to the role in the last two operas of the Ring next year.

This new Ring is already showing a unified sense to the staging, as the Valkyries and Rheinmaidens both appear at the top of a slanting set, and I look forward to Siegfried in November, and Götterdämmerung next February.

Anna Nicole, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, February 2011

This is an opera for today’s celebrity culture, where parts of the media, eager for salacious details, are happy to pick on anyone available. But Anna Nicole Smith was not just anyone — she worked as a stripper and snagged an 89 year-old billionaire, J. Howard Marshall I, though it’s said they never lived together. He died in 1995, fourteen months after their wedding, and Anna Nicole herself died in 2007, aged 39. The contest over his will, however, is still alive and has now reached the US Supreme Court.

The marriage to Marshall

Act I of this new opera by Mark-Anthony Turnage tells of Anna’s life up to the wedding with Howard Marshall, including her first marriage, but it starts with her as a sex symbol, singing, “I want to blow you all — blow you all —— a kiss”. And those are also her last words before she dies, riddled with drugs, following her son, who died of a drug overdose. Almost at the start the cameras appear, cleverly shown as heads of performers in opaque black body stockings. At first there are two, but by the end there is nothing but cameras, and Anna herself. Then, finally, she too is covered in black and the lights go out.

Anna Nicole, Stern and the new baby, all photos by Bill Cooper

Act I was deliberately tacky, but Eva-Maria Westbroek as Anna Nicole carried it off well, looking gorgeous. Then she had a boob job, which did not improve her appearance, and by the end of Act II she looked bloated, which was of course the intention. Alan Oke was suitably frail as old man Marshall, and Gerald Finley gave a strong performance as Anna’s lawyer and third husband, Stern. He was the one promoting her, and had the garish idea of filming the birth of her new baby — his baby he thought — so that it will be broadcast as ‘pay per view’. But as she tells him later, “The baby’s not yours!” Indeed Anna had many lovers, but that is one thing that didn’t quite come over. She must have been a very sexy lady, yet the sexuality on stage was very stylised and lacked allure. That may have been intentional, showing an entirely materialistic attitude to life, alleviated in her case only at the very end as she shows real emotion. There is, however, one thread of sensible humanity running through the opera in the form of Anna’s mother, superbly sung and portrayed by Susan Bickley. She and Eva-Maria Westbroek formed excellent focal points for Turnage’s music, which was remarkably melodious, with its jazz elements reminiscent of Kurt Weill.

The production itself, by Richard Jones, is nothing if not colourful — even the Royal Opera House curtains were replaced by pink ones with Anna Nicole motifs, and there were photographs of her around the balconies and above the stage. The theme is of course tackiness, and the libretto by Richard Thomas pulls no punches in terms of coarse language. Perhaps there is something thrilling about defiance of conventional decorum, and as old man Marshall says, “Don’t grow old with grace. Grow old with disgrace”. The audience loved it, judging by the enthusiasm of the first night. Whether this success will last when the Royal Opera House is no longer pulling out the stops to promote it, remains to be seen, but Turnage’s music has a strong rhythmic pulse, and is well-served by Antonio Pappano’s conducting.

There are six performances in total, ending on March 4 — for more details click here.

Anna Nicole, Royal Opera House Insight Evening, February 2011

This ‘Insight’ evening gave the audience some background to the forthcoming new opera by Mark-Anthony Turnage, and it was most informative and well presented. For a review of the first night, click here.

“What’s it like to see your picture all over the London Underground?” asked Elaine Padmore, director of opera, referring to the ubiquitous adverts featuring Eva-Maria Westbroek as Anna Nicole Smith. For anyone out of the loop on this, Anna Nicole was a model, stripper and sex symbol who wanted to be the next Marilyn Monroe. At one of her performances in Houston she met, and later married, J. Howard Marshall II, who was 89 at the time. As a young man he started a law career at Yale, later worked for the federal government, then left to join the oil industry, made a fortune and went into the energy business. Their marriage lasted fourteen months until his death in 1995 at the age of 90. There was then a legal row about his will (for an estate worth a billion pounds), which did not include Anna Nicole nor one of his sons. The son died in 2006, Anna Nicole died in 2007 (aged 39), and the case has now advanced to the Supreme Court.

“I think she really loved him”, answered Eva-Maria Westbroek, “[he] made her feel wonderful”. Gerald Finley will sing Anna Nicole’s third husband Howard K Stern (Howard Marshall was her second), and he commented that, “This is a feast of [Mark-Anthony Turnage’s] talent as a composer . . . he has such a strong rhythmic pulse”. Antonio Pappano, who will conduct it, commented on the balance of strings compared to the large complement of wind along with a variety of percussion and other instruments, such as an electric bass, not normally heard in an orchestra. He described the music in the first act as ‘zany’, while in Act 2 it gets ‘bigger’. Turnage has a strong background in jazz, and this ‘opera’ is being treated to some extent as a musical. Will it be like Kurt Weill? No one mentioned his name, but they did mention Zeitoper, and Krenek’s Johnny spielt auf. We will have to wait and see about the music, but the lyrics already intrigue me, and an example was given, reminding me of Cole Porter’s You’re the Top. The man in charge of the libretto is Richard Thomas, who received an Olivier Award for his score to Jerry Springer — The Opera. As Turnage said, the words come first and the music follows, but there has obviously been a strong interchange between Thomas and Turnage, and as Gerald Finley said, “After the first ten days of working there was a new script”.

When this opens on February 17 it all has to be entirely ready. Opera is not like theatre or musicals where you get a run at it first in a series of previews. In this case the ROH have used ‘workshops’ to play that role, and already one important change has been made. Originally they were going to abandon surtitles, because there’s some subtle ‘miking’ and they thought the singers would be readily heard. But as soon as the orchestra came into play they realised surtitles would be necessary, and though these won’t cover all the words, there will be enough. That’s a great relief, and I already look forward to reporting on it after the first night, and again later in the run. It sounds very exciting, and I believe tickets are now hard to come by.

There are six performances, running from February 17 to March 4 — for details, click here.

Tannhäuser, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, December 2010

When the Paris Opera invited Wagner to produce a new version of Tannhäuser they asked him to insert the customary ballet in Act II, but he refused. Instead he expanded the Venusberg music to include a ballet in Act I, and the result was pandemonium. The aristocrats of the Jockey Club, accustomed to leaving their dining tables after the interval to view their favourite dancers, disrupted the production with cat-calls and dog whistles until Wagner was permitted to withdraw it after three performances.

Tannhäuser in the Venusberg, all photos by Clive Barda

What the choreography in Paris was like, I don’t know, but here in Tim Albery’s new production the choreography by Jasmin Vardimon worked well. It involved a long table with smartly dressed young men and women displaying enormous physical energy, and partially stripping off one another’s clothes towards the end of the scene. When the first part of Act I is over and Tannhäuser has abandoned his beloved Venus, the curtain closes across a proscenium arch on stage — this is a second proscenium arch, identical to the one at the front of Royal Opera House auditorium. It reappears in Act II, lying on the ground in a broken form, with the curtain a mere reddish rag on the floor. I wondered what the point was — is this to be the setting for the song contest at the Wartburg? Only when it reappeared in Act III, utterly broken into pieces of driftwood, did I see this as a metaphor for the Venusberg in Tannhäuser’s unconscious mind.

Elisabeth and the broken proscenium arch in Act II

Before Tannhäuser reappears from his pilgrimage to Rome in Act III, his old friend Wolfram stands on a piece of this driftwood bridging a chasm on stage, and after seeing a portent of death he launches into O du mein holder Abendstern (O you my precious evening-star). The evening star is of course the planet Venus, but how different is this celestial Venus to Tannhäuser’s Venus of earthly rapture. As different of course as the chaste Elisabeth to the lascivious Venus, well sung here by two different performers, Eva-Maria Westbroek and Michaela Schuster. Wolfram’s unassuming love for Elisabeth was convincingly portrayed by Christian Gerhaher, a remarkable baritone who has studied philosophy and is a qualified physician. He sang as if this were a lieder recital, filling the auditorium with beautiful sound. Tannhäuser himself was boldly and strongly sung by Johan Botha, whose ample frame suits the role of one who has taken his fill of earthly delights. Yet in Act I he sings that despite wandering in far distant lands, he never found rest nor peace (ich nimmer Rast noch Ruhe fand), and it came over with real feeling. This is the story of a man who succumbs to worldly delights yet cannot sate his desire for a deeper satisfaction, and cannot seem to redeem himself. His journey to Rome is a metaphor for his attempt to do so, but it only succeeds when Elisabeth is dead and he finally gives up the effort, resigning himself to his apparent fate.

Wolfram and the dying Elisabeth

Wagner used Christianity as the backdrop for this drama, and the miracle of the Pope’s staff yielding new shoots is a metaphor for the miracle of redemption. Other tales of this nature use other methods of redeeming the lost soul — Wagner’s story is not essentially Christian. Tannhäuser is simply a great opera, and Semyon Bychkov conducted brilliantly, with the musicians playing superbly and the brass going off-stage at one point to play horns from a balcony on the side. Musically it was terrific, and even though I thought the broken proscenium arch of Act II detracted rather than added to an understanding of the song contest, I felt by the end that it had its place in the overall scheme. When I commented on Act II to a friend in the second interval he wittily riposted, “I always think Act II is a good time for dinner”. This wonderful bon motnotwithstanding, here was five hours of excellence, not to be missed.

Performances continue until January 2^nd — for more details click here.