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buzzlegoose.com, 04/26/11 |
by David Salazar |
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Wagner: Die Walküre, Metropolitan Opera, 22. April 2011 |
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OPERA REVIEW: ‘Die Walküre’ directed by Robert LePage
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On April 22, the Metropolitan Opera premiered its highly anticipated new
production of Die Walküre, the second installment in Wagner’s celebrated
Ring Cycle. Earlier this season, Director Robert LePage unveiled a new
production of the Ring’s first installment Das Rheingold to mixed results
and reviews. Most infamously, the production which projects video technology
on 24 planks that run on a hydraulic system and weigh approximately 90,000
pounds, failed to operate during the climactic scene in which the Gods walk
across a rainbow into Valhalla. The problem was later resolved for
subsequent performances, but the stigma of “the machine” (which cost a
whopping $16 million dollars for the four operas) not operating properly has
hung over this production since. LePage used the same video technology in a
previous production of Berlioz’ La Damnation de Faust to awe-inspiring
results (even thought it had its own share of troubleshooting problems). The
technology was able to sense the intensity of the performers and react
accordingly, leading to multiple variations in its performance from night to
night. However, most critics lamented the lack of that ingenuity in the
Rheingold Production and the expectations were that LePage would make up for
it with the new Walküre. The stakes were heightened when one takes into
consideration that of the four Ring operas, Die Walküre is by far the most
beloved by the public (the craze was so high that there were even some
audience members wearing the infamous horned helmets that have become
stereotypical of opera singers).
The Production
But none of the expectations were to be realized. The production not
only failed to live up to the expectations, but in many cases the results
proved to be even more disappointing than those in Rheingold. More
importantly, as LePage walked on stage to take his curtain call, he was
greeted with massive boos and jeers from the audience who clearly did not
appreciate his lackluster effort. The Met audience has been getting slighted
for its increasingly hostile responses toward modern productions. While the
response is not always merited, this time it clearly was. A new Ring Cycle
production is no small matter in any house around the world. In an opera
world where houses are starting to share productions, it is still essential
to retain the autonomy of producing an exclusive Ring Cycle. Prior to
LePage’s work, the Met had the honor of housing Otto Schenk’s famous
production. It was polarizing for most critics because of its lavish sets
that often overpowered the singers, but it was a clear-cut favorite amongst
audiences worldwide. Schenk’s production was the last remaining traditional
Ring to be found in a major opera house around the world, which proved a
haven for opera aficionados looking for the ring “the way it was supposed to
be performed and stage.” Peter Gelb, the general Manager of the Met, had
been hyping this new production all year long, emphasizing the
state-of-the-art technology and innovations.
So what exactly does
this production do? As aforementioned, there are 24 planks that are
computerized to swivel around into different positions and create different
shapes. The planks themselves are visual screens which enables the
projections to make them look like different objects depending on their
configuration. As the opera started, the panels, which were laid flat across
the stage rose and separated. Visuals of tree bark were projected on the
planks, making them look like trees. Then the planks set themselves down
standing upright to give the image of a forest through which a chase
sequence was taking place. Afterward, all but two planks rose up to create
the ceiling of a hut into which the hero Siegmund hides. As the planks
configured into the hut, a stagehand crept onto the stage to fix the table
prop, an early indication that there might be technical problems. The hut
configuration was clearly lacking in imagination as the rest of the stage
was black and bare, resembling that cheap looking Met production of Thomas’
Hamlet from a season ago. The waste of space was emphasized by the fact that
most of the action took place around this central tree and table and that
the singers looked awkward when they wandered too far from this area. To say
that LePage wasn’t trying would be unfair. During a few expository moments
in which Siegmund reveals his history to Sieglinde and his enemy Hunding,
LePage had shadows portraying the action across the panels that were
creating the roof of the hut. Unfortunately, the space was so limited and
the shadows so small that any comprehensive action was indiscernible and the
end result looked improvised at best. For the rest of the act, there are
only a few light tweaks, but nothing that couldn’t be done with a less
expensive technology.
Act 2 was no better. This time, the planks
created a mountain with a crater in the center. Unlike the first act, the
singers were asked to walk across the planks, leading to some nerve-wracking
moments. According to rehearsal videos of this act (see the video below),
Brünhilde, sung admirably by Deborah Voigt, was supposed to climb up on the
plank and sing her famous “Hojotoho” war cry. However, Friday night Voigt
slipped and fell as she tried to climb up. There was noticeable concern in
the audience, but Voigt simply laughed it off and continued as if it was all
part of the show. She proceeded to sing the section on the lower ground
instead of climbing up on the planks. For the rest of the act, she seemed to
avoid climbing the planks as much as possible, but when she later took the
chance, it was clear that she was uncomfortable and very cautious. Later on
in the act, Fricka, sung by Stephanie Blythe was transported on the planks
by a large chair with animals as armrests that looked as if it belonged in a
Disney movie rather than a Wagner opera. She sat during most of her scene,
but when she tried to get up for a moment, she slipped and almost fell over.
For the rest of the act, the beams creaked and wobbled as the actors walked
across them. After such incidents it was difficult to watch the performance
without feeling dread that one of the singers might slip and hurt
themselves.
During another narrative section, Lepage had the planks
rise and reveal the missing eye of the God Wotan, which projected a
combination of images and colors to help the audience follow along with the
lengthy story. But the effect was laughable at best. When Wotan speaks of
the God’s palace Walhalla, the rainbow was projected on the eye. When the
evil Alberich was mentioned, there were tiny messy shadows projected. And
when Wotan mentioned the all powerful Ring, the famous image of the golden
ring twirling around from Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings Trilogy
appeared. It was an honest attempt to be sure, but it failed on all counts.
Act three is the moment that most audience members anticipate, for it
begins with the famous “Ride of the Valkyries.” In LePage’s Faust
production, he was able to project and create the effect of horse riding, so
there was great hope that this would be replicated for the famous scene.
This scene usually looks ridiculous in most productions considering that the
Valkyries’ conversation revolves around their grazing horses, but there are
never horses anywhere on stage. This was LePage’s opportunity for
redemption, but he failed here as well. LePage opted for placing each
Valkyrie on a single plank with other planks surrounding them. The planks
that the Valkyries rode had the faces of horses projected on them while the
surrounding planks had projections of the ground below. The effect was
comical at best, eliciting lots of murmuring and laughing from the audience.
One audience member remarked after the show that she had thought that the
Valkyries were riding surfboards, which was not too farfetched. For the
remainder of the act, the machine was negligible and distracting at best.
During the emotional scene where Wotan must strip his beloved Brunhilde of
her divinity and tie her to the rock forever, the planks converged into a
large rock which had avalanches at seemingly random moments. Meanwhile the
singers performed along the lower ground with the massive rock taking up the
background so that the machine might have something to do. The final effect
in which Brunhilde is tied to the rock and surrounded by a wall of flames
was interesting and seemed to be the main motivation behind this production.
However, it lacked the consummate beauty of Schenk’s more realistic flame
effects. Overall, it seemed as if LePage was playing with his new toy and
trying out experiments, but never really pushed the technology to its
greatest capacity. Another recent Ring Production was created in Valencia,
Spain utilizing similar video technology and it is safe to say that the
technology is a major component of not only creating the world of the Ring,
but highlighting its story and characters.
LePage’s main concern was
clearly the machine, which meant that his singers were generally hung out to
dry with little direction to create a truly driven dramatic interpretation.
The Valkyries scrambled about the stage to protect Brünhilde from Wotan
without any sense of unity. The entire scene essentially lost all dramatic
force because of the lack of coordination and direction. The fatal moment in
which Wotan must let his son Siegmund die in battle was poorly choreographed
and vulgar in its execution. As Brünhilde and Siegmund prepare to battle
Hunding and his army, Wotan comes out from the left of stage, tastelessly
nudges Brünhilde out of the way and then breaks Siegmund’s blade. I will
concede that LePage’s direction of Wotan holding Siegmund in his arms as his
son dies was devastatingly beautiful. The same could be said when Wotan
picks up Brunhilde’s spear and shield from the ground and hands it to her so
that he may see her as his warrior daughter one last time. However, these
moments were rare, due to his emphasis on the machine and the special
effects. His direction was like that of a film director whose emphasis on
visual effects overshadows the story, making it less effective.
I
usually do not comment on costumes, but in this case, they were a laughing
matter. In an attempt to give the Met audience a “traditional” Ring, LePage
and costume designer Robert St-Aubin opted to go with a borderline
stereotypical wardrobe. Brünhilde came with the shiny metal armor and the
stereotypical horned helmet that has been the bane of opera imagery. Hunding
had an animal skull across his vest to emphasize his vicious nature.
Overall, the clothing ranged from cheap looking (Siegmund’s effeminate armor
and tights) to over the top (Brünhilde’s aforementioned attire).
The Singers Prove to be the Remedy
For all
the short comings of the production, there could be no impeding the success
of the singers. The cast was built with household names and it was expected
that they would provide the night’s greatest delight, despite the
production. And they did not disappoint. Bryn Terfel was an
incredible Wotan, packing a strong punch from his voice which cut through
Wagner’s thick and often muscular orchestration. He imbued his Wotan with
great humanity, showing rare tenderness for his frustrated Fricka, where
most Wotans would be tortured by their own personal dilemmas. Terfel’s
greatest moments were the aforementioned death of Siegmund in which his pain
built to such a point that he led out a horrifyingly effective shriek of
grief and rage as he killed Hunding. His moments with Brünhilde were
heart-wrenching. Wagner wrote what is probably his greatest vocal writing
for the Bass-Baritone during Wotan’s “Leb’ Wohl” in which Wotan bids
Brünhilde one last goodbye. Terfel caressed every phrase, imbuing it with
silky legato that is a rare treat from many Wagnerian singers. After seeing
his muscle and strength during early portions of the opera, Terfel’s
tenderness was a beautiful arrival for this most tragic of operatic heroes.
Deborah Voigt made her international debut in the role Brünhilde. Over
the years, Voight’s upper register has been cause for concern due to its
increasing instability. However, she proved to be more than capable of
fulfilling Wagner’s demands for the role. Her performance was energetic
ranging from coquettish and innocent in Act 2 to heartbroken during the
climatic Act 3 confrontation with Wotan. Her upper range showed some frailty
later in the performance, but she more than made up for any problems with a
direct and vigorous performance.
Tenor Jonas Kauffman, also
making his international debut as the tragic Siegmund, provided the role
with rare youthfulness and flexibility. Many Wagnerian tenors who take on
this role have already battered their voices from years and years of singing
Wagnerian roles. The result is that many Siegmunds sound like worn old men
rather than heroic youths. Kauffman has only sung two Wagner roles prior to
Siegmund: Lohengrin and Parsifal. However, he has also sung a fair share of
Italian and French repertoire to balance his vocal flexibility. His
exquisite control over his pianissimo throughout the night portended a
delicacy and frailty that few others can bring to Siegmund. His performance
of the famous “Winterstürme” was particularly striking in its tenderness and
suavity. However, when he was called upon to provide the requisite Wagnerian
power and heft, he did so formidably. The most famous instant is when
Siegmund must sing out “Walse” over an earth-shattering tremolo from the
orchestra. It is written in the score as a half note with Fermata, though
most tenors hold it for as long as their breaths can hold. To compound the
difficulty of this passage, the passage is written first on a G flat and
then on a G natural, which are located on the most fragile part of the
tenor’s voice known as the passagio. Kauffman was more than up to the task,
his upper range never showing any sign of fatigue during this climatic
moment.
Eva-Marie Westbroek made her Met debut with a solid
first Act. She was announced sick after Act 1, but Peter Gelb assured the
audience that she would continue. However, she never showed up during Act 2.
Her replacement Margaret Jane Wray was a formidable replacement, singing
with somber intensity.
Hans-Peter König was a formidable Hunding. His
booming voice was both menacing and thrilling, projecting a great sense of
power and dignity for this villain. Stephanie Blythe was extraordinary as
Fricka. She sat on her chair during most of her performance, but possessed
authority throughout. She brought an uncomfortably beautiful color to her
voice as she expressed her sorrow at being betrayed by her husband.
Conductor James Levine had canceled previous engagements during the last few
weeks due to illness, but it was truly rewarding to see him at the podium
for this premiere. He gave a fluid account of Wagner’s elaborate score,
bringing out the plethora of details with such ease. His tempos were
stretched throughout, enabling for such emotional moments like Siegmund’s
death and Wotan’s farewell to Brünhilde, but he also never lost any of the
vigor or force of Wagner’s glorious music. The first Act was particularly
masterful in the exploitation of its architecture, with the music gaining
unrelenting momentum until it exploded into its erotic climax.
The
audience truly showed its appreciation for the singers, serenading them all
with thunderous applause after each act. The notion that staging and
direction are the most important to operatic theater has become increasingly
popular nowadays. However, this premiere proved otherwise. Singing actors
continue and will always rule the world of opera.
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