Bayreuth Festival Retrospective, 2011

This year the Bayreuth Festival produced five different operas, opening with a new production of Tannhäuser, followed by four revivals: Meistersinger, Lohengrin, Parsifal, and Tristan, in that order.  I went to the first four, which included Katarina Wagner’s grotesque Meistersinger for which spare tickets were selling at half price, and no wonder. With a weak Walther this year it was even worse than I remembered. Tristan I avoided after the dull production and low quality performance of two years ago, so my sequence ended with Parsifal, which was stunning.

More on that later, but on opening night the Tannhäuser production team was roundly booed. Sebastian Baumgarten portrayed the opera as one vast recycling experiment, yet just behind me in the centre box sat Angela Merkel and Jean-Claude Trichet, who represent the main people in control of another huge experiment, namely the Euro. I wonder if they saw the irony. In the Euro experiment, Greece is in the Venusberg, and Elisabeth represents the Euro, but rather than seek redemption in Rome, the Greek government must journey to Berlin and Brussels. In Tannhäuser we know the result. He does not gain absolution for his sins of excess, but there is divine intervention. In the real experiment, Greece has now started its journey, but regardless of what the Euro gods eventually decide, the omnipotent power on high is the bond market. That’s worth remembering because although the higher power absolves Tannhäuser at the end of the opera, there’s a final denouement: both he and Elisabeth die.

What a pity the director of Tannhäuser made no use of this ominous comparison, so that left just two good productions, Lohengrin and Parsifal. In Hans Neuenfels’ Lohengrin production I liked the rats and video projections, which gave a novel insight into a Wagner opera I care for less than others, but the real punch was from Parsifal. Like many people I’m sceptical of unusual productions, but Norwegian director Stefan Herheim’s bold conception was remarkable. It gave an overview of German history from before the First World War until after the Second. The wound from the Treaty of Versailles, the sorcery that Nazism did to a weakened nation, the huge loss of prestige, and finally the cure from paralysis with the death of the old Germany in the person of Titurel. It was an experience not to be missed.

Fortunately Parsifal will reappear next year — see it if you can. It will be shown in the company of Tristan, Lohengrin, Tannhäuser, and a new production of Fliegende Holländer. As for the Ring, a new production will appear in 2013, the bicentenary of Wagner’s birth.

Tannhäuser, Bayreuth, July 2011

What fun this was at the end! The production team were booed to the rafters with not a handclap to be heard, and Stephanie Friede as Venus was so roundly booed she didn’t return for her second curtain call. What a relief to cheer the chorus, along with Michael Nagy’s beautifully sung Wolfram, and Günter Groissböck’s powerful voice and presence as Hermann the Landgraf.

All photos Bayreuther Festspiele/Enrico Nawrath

Bayreuth is celebrating its 100^th festival, delighting the management if not the audience by opening with another extraordinary production, this one by 42-year old Sebastian Baumgarten. His Konzept — and directors’ concepts are of the essence here — is that Tannhäuser is a huge experiment, reflecting the idea that the hero is experimenting with excess and its subsequent rejection. An audience on stage observes everything, and apparently Baumgarten wanted to run it without intervals. Thankfully the caterers objected, so he settled for the stage audience staying in place while the real audience left and the experiment continued. But anyone who thought they could stay to watch was soon ejected because that’s the way they do it in Bayreuth — the auditorium is emptied and the doors locked.

The Venusberg

The Venusberg is a cage with ape-men and various animals, including three giant tadpoles — could these be the three Graces who intervene to halt the ever more frantic proceedings? When it descends below stage we see three huge chemical processing plants in red, green and blue. Bold colours and big designs by Joep van Lieshout, but one gets lost in the details. The Act I shepherd in yellow trousers and white shirt is drunk, and reappears in the same state at the song contest of Act II where scantily dressed girls in knickers and stockings, with holsters on their belts, occasionally enjoy caresses with one another, and the pregnant Venus comes to watch proceedings. After going up to a high gantry and throwing water onto Wolfram and Biterolf as they’re singing, Tannhäuser holds Venus centre stage, and Elisabeth slashes her wrists.

Elisabeth at the Act II Song Contest

Video projections continued throughout, and one of a young woman operating machinery suddenly reminded me of the Nazi period. Perhaps that was my imagination, yet in Act III Wolfram accompanies Elisabeth to the huge BIOGAS cylinder and locks her in. “Kinder schaff’ Neues” (Children do something new) said Wagner, but did he really mean them to alter his dramas in this way? Elisabeth represents a pure type of love, and Wolfram adores her, yet he apparently murders her and sings O du mein holder Abendstern (Oh you my precious evening star) to the pregnant Venus, whose baby is passed round among the chorus ladies at the end.

Stage audience, Tannhäuser, Venus and tadpole in Act I

Yes, this is still Tannhäuser. Words and music remain Wagner’s, and conductor Thomas Hengelbrock gave us thrilling crescendos in the prelude to Act III. Production concepts notwithstanding, Lars Cleveman in his many costumes sang strongly as Tannhäuser, and Camilla Nylund made an attractive Elizabeth, with Michael Nagy and Günther Groissböck as Wolfram and the Landgraf giving the performance real vocal heft.

Ironically there really is a great experiment going on in Europe at present. It’s the Euro, and two of its gods sat a few rows behind us in a box — I refer to Angela Merkel and Jean-Claude Trichet. What they made of this I don’t know, but it’s now the Greeks who have been metaphorically in the Venusberg, and are trying to gain redemption. Tannhäuser was denied it in Rome, and it took a miracle from on high, yet he dies in the end.

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.

Wagner at the Deutsche Oper Berlin, a retrospective, February 2010

Five Wagner operas in six days — Lohengrin, Rienzi, Der fliegende Holländer, Tannhäuser, and Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg — was quite a marathon, but well worth it, particularly for three of the productions. Lohengrin and Meistersinger, both under the direction of Götz Friedrich were excellent, and Philipp Stölzl’s Rienzi gave us an intriguing representation of Hitler and the Nazis — very appropriate when one recalls that Hitler loved the opera and possessed the original score, which presumably went up in flames in the bunker when he died. Interestingly enough, Wagner had already disassociated himself from this early opera well before he died, which was before Hitler was born. Of the other two operas, the production of Tannhäuser by Kirsten Harms was effective in the first two acts, but disappointing in the third, while the one-act Holländer was given an absurd production by Tatjana Gürbaca. Opera houses that put on such nonsense shoot themselves in the foot, as word gets around and many seats remain unsold.

Some of the singing was outstanding. Anyone who did not attend Tannhäuser missed a superb performance by Stephen Gould, who seems perfectly suited to this role. In November 2011 he will sing it at the Wiener Staatsoper, where he will also perform Siegfried in the last two Ring operas. Mentioning singers who fill a role to perfection, I thought Torsten Kerl performed very well, and was convincingly narcissistic, as the title character in Rienzi. And a similar wonderful pairing between singer and role was Klaus Florian Vogt as Walther in Meistersinger. It’s one of his main parts, along with Lohengrin, and I would rather have seen him in that opera than Ben Heppner, whose power seems to have weakened in recent years, though he retains his lyricism. As it was I thought the best performers in Lohengrin were Waltraud Meier and Eike Wilm Schulte, who were wonderfully mendacious as Ortrud and Telramund. King Henry the Fowler was also very strongly sung by Markus Brück, who gave us a superb Beckmesser in Meistersinger, young, smug and appallingly lacking in self-esteem — it was a wonderful act. Holländer is hardly worth mentioning since the singers cannot do their best in such an absurd production, but I found the strongest member of the cast to be Hans-Peter König singing Daland, as he did a year ago at the Royal Opera.

As far as the conducting went, Jacques Lacombe’s rendition of Holländer came over well, and since the production was so awful I kept my eyes closed and concentrated on the music. Sebastian Lang-Lessing did well with Rienzi in the cut-down version that was performed here, and I very much liked Michael Schønwandt’s conducting of Lohengrin. Ulf Schirmer did well with Tannhäuser, but although I found Donald Runnicles’ conducting of Meistersinger to be very sensitive to the singers, I wasn’t sure he had taken enough time to rehearse. Being later in Wagner’s oeuvre than the other operas during the week it is musically more sophisticated and I felt there was some raggedness in parts.

Altogether, however this was a great week of Wagner. I particularly loved the Götz Friedrich productions of Lohengrin and Meistersinger, and found Rienzi stunning after a rather dubious first half. Congratulations to the Deutsche Oper for putting it on in this new Philipp Stölzl production.

Tannhäuser, Deutsche Oper Berlin, Wagner Wochen, February 2010

With Stephen Gould as Tannhäuser, and Nadja Michael as Venus/Elisabeth we had the singers for a great performance, and they didn’t disappoint. Reinhard Hagen as Landgraf Hermann also sang strongly and with a lovely tone, and Dietrich Henschel was an earnest if somewhat underpowered Wolfram. The chorus was powerful, as was Ulf Schirmer’s musical direction, but what really made the evening was Stephen Gould’s Tannhäuser. He was forceful and articulate with a superb tone and strong stage presence. This is the sort of singer one wants as Tristan or Siegfried — Covent Garden please note.

The production by Kirsten Harms was well lit by Bernd Damovsky who also designed the sets and costumes. It had some interesting and powerful moments, particularly the silver armoured horses and riders that met up with Tannhäuser in the second part of Act I, and reappeared at the back of the stage at the very end of the opera when miraculous news from Rome shows that Tannhäuser is forgiven and redeemed. At the start of Act II forty suits of armour appeared on stage and remain suspended above the action for the rest of the opera. These matched the forty beds in Act III, for the healing of the pilgrims, but those I could have done without. I want to see the pilgrims returning from Rome — the heavy tread of these exhausted men is there in the music, and when I first saw this opera, in a Götz Friedrich production at Bayreuth in 1974, they made a huge impact. Here we merely had them in the beds of a hospital ward, which I found disappointing and lacking impact.

That aside, this production was good, and Nadja Michael in her simple long white dress gave a wonderful performance as both Venus and Elisabeth. The transformations between the two were accomplished quite subtly on stage by modifying her hair, long for Venus, and braided on top for Elisabeth. But in the end this was about the singing, and that is where Stephen Gould and Nadja Michael, along with the chorus and orchestra carried it all off with great effect.

Wagner Week at the Deutsche Oper in Berlin, February 2010

On February 9^th I shall be in Berlin for a week of Wagner operas at the Deutsche Oper. Here is the list, with details of the performers.

Lohengrin: production by Götz Friedrich, conducted by Michael Schønwandt, with Ben Heppner as Lohengrin, Ricarda Merbeth as Elsa, Waltraud Meier as Ortrud, and Eike Wilm Schulte as her husband Telramund. I recall that Shulte sang a very strong Kurwenal in the Metropolitan live relay of Tristan in March 2008.

Rienzi: production by film director Philipp Stölzl, conducted by Sebastian Lang-Lessing, with Torsten Kerl as Rienzi, who sang Tristan at Glyndebourne in summer 2009. Camilla Nylund will be his sister Irene, Kate Aldrich her lover Adriano, and Ante Jerkunica as Adriano’s father.

Der fliegende Holländer: production by Tatjana Gürbaca, conducted by Jacques Lacombe, with Egil Silins as the Dutchman, Hans-Peter König as Daland, Manuela Uhl as his daughter Senta, and Endrik Wottrich as Erik. Ms Uhl had the misfortune to portray the eponymous role in the dreadful production of Salome by the Deutsche Oper last year, but let’s hope she has the advantage of a sensible production for this opera. Mentioning last year in Berlin, I recall Jacques Lacombe conducting an excellent Ariadne auf Naxos for the Deutsche Oper, and last summer a very fine Tosca for the Royal Opera in London.

Tannhäuser: production by Kirsten Harms, conducted by Ulf Schirmer, with Stephen Gould as Tannhäuser, Nadja Michael as Venus/Elisabeth, and Dietrich Henschel as Wolfram. Both Stephen Gould and Nadja Michael were together at the Royal Opera last January in Korngold’s Die Tote Stadt, an opera, like Tannhäuser, where a young man is pulled into a vortex of desire by a woman portraying two roles.

Die Meistersinger: production by Götz Friedrich, conducted by Donald Runnicles, with James Johnson as Hans Sachs, Klaus Florian Vogt as Walther, and Michaela Kaune as Eva. She was the Marschallin in the Deutsche Oper’s Rosenkavalier last year, and I saw both Vogt and Kaune in the Bayreuth Meistersinger this past summer, where he sang brilliantly despite the diabolical production. Beckmesser will be Marcus Brück, with Ulrike Helzel as Magdalena, and Paul Kaufmann as David.