Subscribe to
Opera Today

Receive articles and news via RSS feeds or email subscription.


facebook-icon.png


twitter_logo[1].gif



Plumbago_9780993198359_1.png

9780521746472.png

0810888688.gif

0810882728.gif

Recently in Performances

Peter Sellars' kinaesthetic vision of Lasso's Lagrime di San Pietro

On 24th May 1594 just a few weeks before his death on 14 June, the elderly Orlando di Lasso signed the dedication of his Lagrime di San Pietro - an expansive cycle of seven-voice penitential madrigale spirituali, setting vernacular poetry on the theme of Peter’s threefold denial of Christ - to Pope Clement VIII.

Karlheinz Stockhausen: Donnerstag aus Licht

Stockhausen was one of the most visionary of composers, and no more so than in his Licht operas, but what you see can often get in the way of what you hear. I’ve often found fully staged productions of his operas a distraction to the major revelation in them - notably the sonorities he explores, of the blossoming, almost magical acoustical chrysalis, between voices and instruments.

David McVicar's Andrea Chénier returns to Covent Garden

Is Umberto’s Giordano’s Andrea Chenier a verismo opera? Certainly, he is often grouped with Mascagni, Cilea, Leoncavallo and Puccini as a representative of this ‘school’. And, the composer described his 1876 opera as a dramma de ambiente storico.

Glyndebourne presents Richard Jones's new staging of La damnation de Faust

Oratorio? Opera? Cantata? A debate about the genre to which Berlioz’s ‘dramatic legend’, La damnation de Faust, should be assigned could never be ‘resolved’.

Hampstead Garden Opera presents Partenope-on-sea

“Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside! I do like to be beside the sea!” And, it was off to the Victorian seaside that we went for Hampstead Garden Opera’s production of Handel’s Partenope - not so much for a stroll along the prom, rather for boisterous battles on the beach and skirmishes by the shore.

Henze's Phaedra: Linbury Theatre, ROH

A song of love and death, loss and renewal. Opera was born from the ambition of Renaissance humanists to recreate the oratorical and cathartic power of Greek tragedy, so it is no surprise that Greek myths have captivated composers of opera, past and present, offering as they do an opportunity to engage with the essential human questions in contexts removed from both the sacred and the mundane.

Actress x Stockhausen Sin {x} II - a world premiere

Is it in any sense aspirational to imitate - or even to try to create something original - based on one of Stockhausen’s works? This was a question I tried to grapple with at the world premiere of Actress x Stockhausen Sin {x} II.

The BBC Singers and the Academy of Ancient Music join forces for Handel's Israel in Egypt

The biblical account of the Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt is the defining event of Jewish history. By contrast, Handel’s oratorio Israel in Egypt has struggled to find its ‘identity’, hampered as it is by what might be termed the ‘Part 1 conundrum’, and the oratorio has not - despite its repute and the scholarly respect bestowed upon it - consistently or fully satisfied audiences, historic or modern.

Measha Brueggergosman: The Art of Song – Ravel to John Cage

A rather charming story recently appeared in the USA of a nine-year old boy who, at a concert given by Boston’s Handel and Haydn Society, let out a very audible “wow” at the end of Mozart’s Masonic Funeral Music. I mention this only because music – whether you are neurotypical or not – leads to people, of any age, expressing themselves in concerts relative to the extraordinary power of the music they hear. Measha Brueggergosman’s recital very much had the “wow” factor, and on many distinct levels.

World premiere of Cecilia McDowall's Da Vinci Requiem

The quincentennial of the death Leonardo da Vinci is one of the major events this year – though it doesn’t noticeably seem to be acknowledged in new music being written for this.

Aribert Reimann’s opera Lear at Maggio Musicale Fiorentino

In 1982, while studying in Germany, I had the good fortune to see Aribert Reimann’s opera Lear sung in München by the original cast, which included Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Júlia Várady and Helga Dernesch. A few years later, I heard it again in San Francisco, with Thomas Stewart in the title role. Despite the luxury casting, the harshly atonal music—filled with quarter-tones, long note rows, and thick chords—utterly baffled my twenty-something self.

Berlioz’s Requiem at the Concertgebouw – earthshakingly stupendous

It was high time the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra programmed Hector Berlioz’s Grande Messe des morts. They hadn’t performed it since 1989, and what better year to take it up again than in 2019, the 150th anniversary of Berlioz’s death?

Matthew Rose and Friends at Temple Church

I was very much looking forward to this concert at Temple Church, curated by bass Matthew Rose and designed to celebrate music for voice commissioned by the Michael Cuddigan Trust, not least because it offered the opportunity to listen again to compositions heard recently - some for the first time - in different settings, and to experience works discussed coming to fruition in performance.

Handel's Athalia: London Handel Festival

There seems little to connect the aesthetics of French neoclassical theatre of the late-seventeenth century and English oratorio of the early-eighteenth. But, in the early 1730s Handel produced several compositions based on Racine’s plays, chief among them his Israelite-oratorios, Esther (1732) and Athalia (1733).

Ravel’s L’heure espagnole: London Symphony Orchestra conducted by François-Xavier Roth

Although this concert was devoted to a single composer, Ravel, I was initially a little surprised by how it had been programmed. Thematically, all the works had the essence of Spain running through them - but chronologically they didn’t logically follow on from each other.

Breaking the Habit: Stile Antico at Kings Place

Renaissance patronage was a phenomenon at once cultural, social, political and economic. Wealthy women played an important part in court culture and in religious and secular life. In particular, music, musical performances and publications offered a female ruler or aristocrat an important means of ‘self-fashioning’. Moreover, such women could exercise significant influence on the shaping of vernacular taste.

The Secrets of Heaven: The Orlando Consort at Wigmore Hall

Leonel Power, Bittering, Roy Henry [‘Henry Roi’?], John Pyamour, John Plummer, John Trouluffe, Walter Lambe: such names are not likely to be well-known to audiences but alongside the more familiar John Dunstaple, they were members of the generation of Englishmen during the Middle Ages whose compositions were greatly admired by their fellow musicians on the continent.

Manitoba Opera: The Barber of Seville

Manitoba Opera capped its season on a high note with its latest production of Rossini’s The Barber of Seville, sung in the key of goofiness that has inspired even a certain “pesky wabbit,” a.k.a. Bugs Bunny’s The Rabbit of Seville.

Handel and the Rival Queens

From Leonardo vs. Michelangelo to Picasso vs. Matisse; from Mozart vs. Salieri to Reich v. Glass: whether it’s Maria Callas vs. Renata Tebaldi or Herbert von Karajan vs. Wilhelm Furtwängler, the history of culture is also a history of rivalries nurtured and reputations derided - more often by coteries and aficionados than by the artists themselves.

Britten's Billy Budd at the Royal Opera House

“Billy always attracted me, of course, the radiant young figure; I felt there was going to be quite an opportunity for writing nice dark music for Claggart; but I must admit that Vere, who has what seems to me the main moral problem of the whole work, round [him] the drama was going to centre.”

OPERA TODAY ARCHIVES »

Performances

Katharina Wagner (Photo: Nawrath)
16 Aug 2007

Katharina Wagner's Debut at Bayreuth

If you are in need of a Romantic, Alt-Nuernberg, Beloved-Old-Vaterland-As-It-(Never)-Was sort of production of “Die Meistersinger,” you would probably do well to wait for the Met revival, and stay far far away (actually, add another “far” to that) from the Bayreuth Festpiel’s latest “Skandal”-ripe interpretation.

Above: Katharina Wagner (Photo: Nawrath)

 

As imagined by Katharina Wagner (nepotism does pay), the milieu is stuffy, pedantic Academia, and the “Meisters” are boring and inflexible academicians who “heff zeez rrrroooooools.” The setting is a large paneled institutional meeting room surrounded on three sides by balconies, the side tiers of which display busts of great thinkers, artists, or teachers.

The rear wall boasts a grand piano in one chamber, and a cello propped on a chair in the other, with the highest tier peopled in part by several artisans who are restoring the old traditional ceiling frescoes. At opening, a very attractive Walther (Klaus Florian Vogt) climbs out of the grand piano (yes, out of it) in modern, hip clothing with (and this is important) white sneakers.

As he cavorts above, Eva and Magdalene (Amanda Mace and Carola Guber), dressed in identical grey business suit and skirt combos (which do nothing to flatter their short stature and ample figures) and with identical henna pageboy wigs (making them indistinguishable) frolic below.

And I mean, those girls get down! They do jetees, and little leaps and spins, and jump up and down like excited schoolgirls playing with purple scarves semaphorically in a way that would make Sophie Tucker proud. But the whole effect was. . .well. . .remember the Hippo ballerina in “Fantasia”? If so, ya got the (probably intended) effect. . .

Concurrently, rather trim middle-aged choristers dressed as Buster Brown school boys and girls (with very unfortunate wigs) march in, carrying what look to be candles, that they stick in a holder along a railing upstage. They return with more of these carried on their shoulders as if rifles, and do the same. Only later do we find out that these are in fact the legs of conference tables and chairs, that they screw in and assemble to create a biiiiiig meeting table for the masters who arrive stuffily dressed, save Sachs (and the afore-mentioned Walther).

Sachs is a barefoot renegade outsider, all dressed in a black, Johnny Cash-like shirt and trouser get-up. He stands to the side and broods a lot. And smokes cigarettes. A lot.

The contest and “ze roools” do not seem to be about mere songs, rather performance art, and to this end Walther seems to be an out-of-control graffitist par excellence. With a bucket of whitewash, he starts defacing first the cello, on which he paints breasts and the word “Eva,” and later jumps onto, and adorns the big, holy conference table itself.

He and Beckmesser have a jumbo jigsaw puzzle challenge, both attempting to put a puzzle together and create a famous lithograph of “Alt Nuernberg” in their designated picture frame, each on an easel. Beckmesser (Michael Volle) succeeds, but dang if Walther’s isn’t upside down. Ach, the Sturm! Ach, the Drang!

Poor Walther just cannot -- cannot -- put the pieces in the right places and conform. So he defaces Beckmesser’s “correct version” with his initials, and flings a lot of paint around as he exits.

But. . .I have to say by Act’s end, Katharina’s concept of the definition of art, the “establishment” versus free-thinking, the negative climate that defeats challenge and growth, etc., was not only well-established, but I thought was quite clearly and even compellingly made. And there were some real laughs. And prolonged applause. Then came Act II.

Same three-tiers, but some cafe tables are now stage left and behind them, a giant sculpture of a forearm and hand poised in an act of benediction. Sachs has a work table down right, at which he sits and types on an old fashioned typewriter through much of the act.

There are four white sneakers strategically placed down- and up-stage, a symbol of all that is innovative and daring, I think. In any case, during his great monologue, he stopped typing and tried to fit his bare foot in one of the sneakers, and he cannot -- cannot fit -- cannot be hip -- cannot be progressive.

White-sneaker-shod Walther is now on a tirade, and he slops a bit more paint, and then flings the sneakers around. When one of them clocks the giant forearm hard, it wobbles a bit and then bends forward in deference (oooooooh), allowing him to deface it as well, painting a big ol’ white nail, perhaps on the fickle finger of fate?

Eva eventually decides to buy into this performance-art-thing, throws off her wig and suit, and climbs The Hand in an unflattering blue shift. Walther gets her to pose for him so he can paint her. And. He. Paints. Her. Literally. Well, her dress, that is. Circles around the breasts, love flowers on the hips, “Ewa” across her pubic area, etc. Pity the costume mistress.

Meanwhile, the Night Watchman, no lamplighter he, has come and gone with a miner’s helmet, picking up litter with one of those litter-picker-uppers. He returns to pick up the sneakers and Eva’s discarded wig. Also in the meantime, Beckmesser has come to pay his visit and to practice his entry to the contests. Although he has no lute, the twanging from the pit works “okay,” in a demented-mental-condition sort of way. Anyhow, Sachs sort of “plays” along with his typewriter. And then it gets a little nuttier.

The interruptions to Beckmesser’s song are not the tapping of the cobbler, but rather Sachs at his typewriter and. . .white sneakers falling from the flies. First one by one. Then more. Then, they started rather raining down. As the street confrontation scene plays out, the busts of the statues come to life -- turns out the bust-actor’s body was concealed by the pedestal. Then some academics come in the upstage tiers and are stripped of their robes to their underpants.

The Buster Brown students tear off their wigs and some costume parts, forming several Bunny-Hop style lines and dancing. Some brandish the oversize jigsaw puzzle parts from Act One. One of the graffiti’d desk tops makes an appearance.

And at the height of it, more choristers come on the tiers with buckets of colored paint and begin creating a “Jackson Pollock” right on the stage and over the assembled singers! Sing and fling, sing and fling, sing and fling. Garbage-picker Watchman comes back once more surveying the “art.” Curtain down.

Vociferous booing. Love it or hate it, it was quite a statement on progressive performance art, and the wisdom of unstructured disregard of artistic traditions. Audience displeasure aside, there were no empty seats for Act III so I guess everyone either figured “I paid 180 Euros and I am staying” or “I want to boo even more loudly at the end” or “I can’t wait to see what wacky thing that darn Katharina will come up with next.” Well. . .

We are now in a rather modern apartment with three enormous picture windows, through which we see the upstage tiers filled with the “busts” of the Old Masters (including Wagner) in the guise of over-sized mask/headpieces like those on the Seven Dwarfs at Disneyland. Well, actually these are just a giant head . . .with legs.

Walther, Eva, and Sachs are apparently re-thinking “you know this tradition thing may not be so bad after all so let’s compromise,” and begin changing into traditional evening wear and business attire. Mid-point in the scene, Sachs closes the curtain on the ever-observant Heads.

Conversely, Beckmesser seems taken in by the performance art agenda and now appears in jeans, sneaks, and a tee shirt that reads “Beck in Town.” And he begins formulating his performance art “prize song.” David has twice come and gone through a secret “door” in the stairs fronting the platform, dragging a smaller framed picture of “Alt Nuernberg” with him. Ah, tradition is still an influential presence. . .but ya have to be sneaky about it lest you appear “old-fashioned.”

For the quintet, apparently to prophesy the future, Sachs provides Walther and Eva with three children “extras,” and ditto two for David and Magdalene, and he calls in two large picture frames from the loft to make “family photos.” Visually simple and blessedly still, this was one of the nicest moments in the opera until one of the young “sons” had been directed to act as though he had to pee. Badly. Perhaps Ms. Wagner wanted to keep reminding us that this is a comedy. Or she wanted to “piss off” the traditionalists. But I digress. . .

For the transition music after that, all the “Seven Dwarfs” Meister-Busts appeared in front of the window unit, and danced an amateurish kick line as if in a bad German Variety Show. (An oxymoron, I know. . .all that was missing was Anneliese Rothenberger lip-synching “Vilia.”)

They are soon joined by three buxom bare-breasted Bavarian lasses, also in big mask/heads with long blond pigtails and traditional dirndls, well, save the missing bodice. They proceed to strip (some more) and whoopsie, one of them is a guy. This strip-tease greatly excites the Dancing-Head Meister-Busts, and they expose excited rubber phalluses, one or two of which fall off. Whoopsie again. This is what Nurernberg Gay Pride Day in Hell must be like. . .

The sense of hackles rising in the audience was palpable now. You could cut the tension with a rubber phallus.

Eventually a big metal road case was rolled in, the Busts of all kinds were shooed away, the residue picked up, and dumped in the box. As if to purge the place of this nonsense, Sachs lights a Bic and touches it to the enclosed rubble which bursts into flame. He and the four rubble collectors all warm their hands in the flames, at which point. . .

The window unit flies out and chorister-packed banks of bleachers rise from the ground until they filled the background with a seemingly vertical mass of bodies clad in various casual clothing which made quite a lively patchwork. Very impressive effect.

And now, the “song” contest. Remember the song contest?

Well, “Beck” (the Beck-a-Rama, the Beck-a-Rootie, the Beck-a-’Rocious, the Man) is back with a small carnival wagon festooned with balloons which turn out to be attached to an inflatable sex doll (Eva). We also get treated to a rather yummy naked chorus boy (Adam). When the doll explodes and deflates Adam’s, um, chances, The Beck opens his zipper and pulls out his loooooooooong flesh-colored rubber “snake” with which he does many rude things, not the least is swinging it in a circle.

They are soon driven from Paradise as the wall of choristers rips off their casual duds and throw them to the ground revealing them to suddenly be in tuxes and jewel-colored satiny evening gowns in boy-girl alternating vertical rows. Truly beautiful effect!

How will it all end? Well, Walther presents his “performance art” prize song as a traditional Garden Scene with old-fashioned painted archway flown in (there have been references to this with a stage model replete with set designs earlier on), and enacted in dumb show by a beautiful traditional prince and princess. Awwwwwww. . . .(He wins, you know?)

Sachs’ last famous monologue about preserving and revering (the superior) German culture was quite unadorned, with large statues of (I think) Schiller and Goethe forming columns to witness (challenge? monitor?) his sentiments. Sadly, by now Franz Hawlata had spent the best part of his voice elsewhere in the evening, and had neither the sustaining power, the beauty of tone, nor the vocal presence to score in this signature moment.

The lights went out to instantaneous booing from some very loud and determined folks who seemed to need an exorcism very very badly. Not all of the audience was Clinically Displeased, but those that were were strident.

The excellent chorus was then cheered. Most singers got decent applause. Poor Eva was roundly booed, but while she did not have quite the vocal presence wanted on this occasion, she didn’t deserve that. Sachs also got the razz. But The Beck and The Walt (those cool dudes) got the most rousing and vociferous ovations of the night. Neither erased memories of say, Hermann Prey and Ben Heppner for me, but they were very good, and in any event, the best in the cast.

And therein lies my problem. For all of the eccentricities of the production, and my cheeky comments aside, it mostly “worked” okay. Save a couple of bad choices, the focus was where it needed to be. The concept was consistent, clear, and controlled. And I thought The Beck’s Adam and Eve performance art debacle to actually be a comment on the sort of “Konzept” that can derail a production just like this very one we were seeing. In short, I think the woman not only has some creative ability and directorial skill, but also perhaps, considerable wit.

Musically, however, the cast was very uneven, something that certainly should be avoidable at a festival of this prestige and importance. The small-voiced Arthur Korn (“Veit Pogner”), rather squally “Magdalena,” and a couple others were decidedly not of the highest international standard available.

The orchestra was very good, if not quite “world class,” the soloists (especially the cellist) were excellent, and I liked the conducting, but I think that the covered pit must be an acquired taste. I personally thought the brass and winds sounded too muffled. Give me the brilliant sound of the first class band at the Met or Staatsoper or Covent Garden any day.

I recall an old anecdote about one Met horn player who, as the “Meistersinger” performance evening was entering it’s 6th hour, ironically asked his pit colleague: “Soooo, what other comic operas did Wagner write?”

Katharina Wagner was upfront that she was attempting a non-traditional, irreverent approach that emphasized quirky comedy. I have to say that that loooooong two-hour Act III went by more quickly than any other I have experienced. And I had fun, darn it! (But I didn’t always like myself for it!)

But to now paraphrase George Bernard Shaw, I don’t think one can appreciate this production on one viewing. . .and I certainly have no intention of seeing it again.

Still, it was my first Bayreuth experience and it was great fun in toto. Everything is well-organized to include hotel shuttles, catering options, and really, all the hosting elements were superior. And while it was wicked fun to partake of a genuine Bayreuth Skandal, I would hope that future visits might reveal the reputed high musical qualities that meet the revered Festival’s normal standard.

James Sohre

Send to a friend

Send a link to this article to a friend with an optional message.

Friend's Email Address: (required)

Your Email Address: (required)

Message (optional):