Well on the way to twilight!
Richard Wagner: Die Walküre, 15 May 2011.
The final transmission of the 2010-2011 season ‘Live from the Met in HD’ was on 14th May and was seen at the Sunday encore on the 15th. The opera was Die Walküre, the second of the new Ring cycle, produced by Robert Lepage. with Cirque du Soleil style set design by Carl Fillion. The first was, Das Rheingold, which opened the season last October
The final transmission of the 2010-2011 season ‘Live from the Met in HD’ was on 14th May and was seen at the Sunday encore on the 15th. The opera was Die Walküre, the second of the new Ring cycle, produced by Robert Lepage. with Cirque du Soleil style set design by Carl Fillion. The first was, Das Rheingold, which opened the season last October
A scene from Act III of Wagner’s “Die Walkure”. Bottom (left to right): Wendy Bryn Harmer as Ortlinde, Marjorie Elinor Diz as Waltraute, Lindsay Armann as Rossweisse, Molly Fillmore as Helmwige, Kelly Cae Hogan (behind Molly Fillmore) as Gerhilde, Mary Phillips as Schwertleite, Mary Ann McCormick as Grimgerde, and Eve Gigliotti as Siergrune. Top: Deborah Voigt (standing) as Brunnhilde, and Eva-Maria Westbroek as Sieglinde.
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera
The advantage of seeing the Sunday encore – sharing the matinee experience with the Met, combined with more available seats - outweighs for many the frisson of the live performance. On this occasion, for instance, the start was delayed for thirty minutes due to the malfunction of the electronics controlling movements of the elaborate stage set.
The theme of Die Walküre, complex, intricate and subtle, can be summarised in many ways: reverentially, incredulously, hilariously (á la Anna Russell), narratively, as fable, as domestic comedy, as allegory I aim at a succinct and, hopefully, objective account of the essentials.
The plot concerns the thwarted efforts of Wotan to engineer the breeding of a super-hero, Siegfried, to recover the Nibelung’s ring. There are three Acts. In the first, Siegmund, fleeing his enemies, takes refuge in the home of Hunding, who is married to Sieglinde, the former’s twin sister. They make love and flee, taking the magic sword, Nothung. IIn Act II, Fricka, Wotan’s consort, guardian of moral standards, is outraged and browbeats Wotan into allowing Hunding to kill Siegmund by breaking the sword. Contrary to Wotan’s orders, the pregnant Sieglinde is saved by Brünnhilde, the favourite among a group of warrior maidens, the Valkyries, fathered by Wotan, whose main task in life is to transport the bodies of dead heroes from the battlefield to Valhalla.
In Act III, Brünnhilde seeks the aid of her sisters going about their business but Wotan arrives in a rage at her disobedience. Sieglinde escapes (to bear Siegfried). Brünnhilde’s sentence (as much in sorrow as in anger) is to lose her divinity and to be put to sleep surrounded by a ring of fire (eventually to be woken by Siegfried’s embrace, at the end of the next opera).
This is a stupendous, thrilling production in all its aspects. On the one hand, the spectacle, engineering skill and imagination of the staging are awe-inspiring. On the other hand, the performance of orchestra, the singing and acting of the superb cast are equally impressive. The problem is that the two just do not match up. As in Das Rheingold, the somewhat self-indulgent technology of the staging is not compatible with the musical interpretation exploring the psychological motivation and behaviour of the characters. At least this was the impression to the cinema audience, where the use of close-up enhanced the intimacy of their exchanges.
The set, developed over a five year period, has involved strengthening the Met stage to bear its weight. It is basically a series of enormously long planks which are moved around under computer control to represent the scene: the Rhine, a stairway down to Niebelheim, the forest through which Siegmund flees his pursuers, gigantic hobby-horses symbolising the Valkyries’ steeds, the rock where Brünnhilde is encircled by fire, in an incredibly series of complex arrangements.
The cast is a roll call of top Wagner singers. Act I introduces Jonas Kaufmann’s outstanding portrayal of Siegmund, the fugitive finding sanctuary and love with the more reserved Sieglinde of Eva-Maria Westbroek (who recently created the completely different role in Anna Nichole). The Hunding of Hans-Peter König was not sufficiently boorish to forfeit all sympathy at the betrayal of his hospitality.
In Act II Stephanie Blythe made a formidable appearance as Fricka, arising in an ornate stair- lift decorated with antlers. Transformed from her passive role in Rheingold, she was the epitome of the lady without whose singing the opera cannot be over. Bryn Terfel’s subtle interpretation of Wotan continues to evolve, here with declining power, weakly torn between his moral duty and the achievement of his ambitions, reminding us once again what a consummate operatic performer he is.
The long awaited appearance of Deborah Voigt as Brünnhilde is vocally and dramatically stunning. Her final scene with Wotan particularly poignant despite apparently finishing up head down on the representation of the rocky crag with the encircling fire. (The use of a body double here is as silly as having an acrobat-double perform Tosca’s death-leap as in Ellen Kent’s 2004 production.) Unfortunately, such was the deep impression of Voigt’s recent performance in La Fanciulla del West, it is impossible not to see her, with long auburn hair, as Minnie in fancy dress.
The characterisation of all the Valkyries was not the traditional one of fierce warrior maidens, carrying out their gruesome task (instead of corpses we had just a few bones scattered on the stage), their cries more the whoops of a girl’s night out, from their ‘dismounting’ by sliding over the heads of the see-sawing planks representing their horses – all very jolly! This impression was not reduced for the cinema audience by the interview by Placido Domingo of four of them, identical in build and Brooklyn accent, during the intermission.
The musical momentum was carried along by conductor James Levine, adopting sedate tempi, firmly in control of orchestra and singers, allowing both to give of their best.
We left the cinema overwhelmed by what we had seen and heard. Only with restored critical faculties was it possible to make the above analysis. With two down and two to go, how can we summarise our impression of the Met’s new Ring cycle? I would say we are experiencing simultaneously two entirely different concepts: that of the producer Robert Lepage and that of musical director James Levine. The result is rather disconcerting.
The theme of Die Walküre, complex, intricate and subtle, can be summarised in many ways: reverentially, incredulously, hilariously (á la Anna Russell), narratively, as fable, as domestic comedy, as allegory I aim at a succinct and, hopefully, objective account of the essentials.
The plot concerns the thwarted efforts of Wotan to engineer the breeding of a super-hero, Siegfried, to recover the Nibelung’s ring. There are three Acts. In the first, Siegmund, fleeing his enemies, takes refuge in the home of Hunding, who is married to Sieglinde, the former’s twin sister. They make love and flee, taking the magic sword, Nothung. IIn Act II, Fricka, Wotan’s consort, guardian of moral standards, is outraged and browbeats Wotan into allowing Hunding to kill Siegmund by breaking the sword. Contrary to Wotan’s orders, the pregnant Sieglinde is saved by Brünnhilde, the favourite among a group of warrior maidens, the Valkyries, fathered by Wotan, whose main task in life is to transport the bodies of dead heroes from the battlefield to Valhalla.
In Act III, Brünnhilde seeks the aid of her sisters going about their business but Wotan arrives in a rage at her disobedience. Sieglinde escapes (to bear Siegfried). Brünnhilde’s sentence (as much in sorrow as in anger) is to lose her divinity and to be put to sleep surrounded by a ring of fire (eventually to be woken by Siegfried’s embrace, at the end of the next opera).
This is a stupendous, thrilling production in all its aspects. On the one hand, the spectacle, engineering skill and imagination of the staging are awe-inspiring. On the other hand, the performance of orchestra, the singing and acting of the superb cast are equally impressive. The problem is that the two just do not match up. As in Das Rheingold, the somewhat self-indulgent technology of the staging is not compatible with the musical interpretation exploring the psychological motivation and behaviour of the characters. At least this was the impression to the cinema audience, where the use of close-up enhanced the intimacy of their exchanges.
The set, developed over a five year period, has involved strengthening the Met stage to bear its weight. It is basically a series of enormously long planks which are moved around under computer control to represent the scene: the Rhine, a stairway down to Niebelheim, the forest through which Siegmund flees his pursuers, gigantic hobby-horses symbolising the Valkyries’ steeds, the rock where Brünnhilde is encircled by fire, in an incredibly series of complex arrangements.
The cast is a roll call of top Wagner singers. Act I introduces Jonas Kaufmann’s outstanding portrayal of Siegmund, the fugitive finding sanctuary and love with the more reserved Sieglinde of Eva-Maria Westbroek (who recently created the completely different role in Anna Nichole). The Hunding of Hans-Peter König was not sufficiently boorish to forfeit all sympathy at the betrayal of his hospitality.
In Act II Stephanie Blythe made a formidable appearance as Fricka, arising in an ornate stair- lift decorated with antlers. Transformed from her passive role in Rheingold, she was the epitome of the lady without whose singing the opera cannot be over. Bryn Terfel’s subtle interpretation of Wotan continues to evolve, here with declining power, weakly torn between his moral duty and the achievement of his ambitions, reminding us once again what a consummate operatic performer he is.
The long awaited appearance of Deborah Voigt as Brünnhilde is vocally and dramatically stunning. Her final scene with Wotan particularly poignant despite apparently finishing up head down on the representation of the rocky crag with the encircling fire. (The use of a body double here is as silly as having an acrobat-double perform Tosca’s death-leap as in Ellen Kent’s 2004 production.) Unfortunately, such was the deep impression of Voigt’s recent performance in La Fanciulla del West, it is impossible not to see her, with long auburn hair, as Minnie in fancy dress.
The characterisation of all the Valkyries was not the traditional one of fierce warrior maidens, carrying out their gruesome task (instead of corpses we had just a few bones scattered on the stage), their cries more the whoops of a girl’s night out, from their ‘dismounting’ by sliding over the heads of the see-sawing planks representing their horses – all very jolly! This impression was not reduced for the cinema audience by the interview by Placido Domingo of four of them, identical in build and Brooklyn accent, during the intermission.
The musical momentum was carried along by conductor James Levine, adopting sedate tempi, firmly in control of orchestra and singers, allowing both to give of their best.
We left the cinema overwhelmed by what we had seen and heard. Only with restored critical faculties was it possible to make the above analysis. With two down and two to go, how can we summarise our impression of the Met’s new Ring cycle? I would say we are experiencing simultaneously two entirely different concepts: that of the producer Robert Lepage and that of musical director James Levine. The result is rather disconcerting.