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Opera Britannia, May 28, 2016 |
Sebastian Petit |
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Wagner: Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, Bayerische Staatsoper, 26. Mai 2016 |
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Wagner : Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg
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What a bizarrely schizophrenic evening this was! On one side one could revel
in a superb musical performance led by Kirill Petrenko featuring a strong,
cohesive cast. On the other hand, that performance was constantly
contradicted visually and emotionally by David Bösch’s grungy, determinedly
anti-romantic production. The evening started strongly and throughout the
first act the lithely iridescent musical performance seemed to go hand in
hand with Bösch’s view of the piece. Each of the Masters was a sharply
defined character – I particularly enjoyed the mildly rebellious master
listening to music on headphones during the meeting! The carefully graded
and varied reactions to Stolzing’s musical hand grenade all rang true
without caricature. The final image of the act – a heartbroken Kothner
clutching a shard from a shattered bust of Wagner was unexpectedly moving.
But as Act II progressed, doubts grew as the Personenregie seemed to
rely more and more on tired sight gags and pratfalls. The look may have been
staunchly modernistic but some of the visual jokes would not have looked out
of place in an Otto Schenk Wagnerworld production. The moment Markus Eiche‘s
wonderfully strange Beckmesser produced a large sledgehammer I knew with
sinking certainty that he would drop it on his foot. And, alas, he did not
disappoint. The picky amongst us could also be forgiven for wondering what
Pogner, apparently prosperous, was doing living in a sink estate akin to the
nightmare environments of La Haine or Dheepan. Christof Fischesser was a
well sung but dramatically understated young father figure in the part.
The act climaxed in a riot scene which was the opposite of comic;
involving, as it did, some extremely realistic violence, thugs in animal
masks and the taunting of a powerless police force (substituting for the
Nightwatchman). The chorus blocking was merely confusing rather than
riotous. The climax with Beckmesser, already covered in blood, apparently
about to be kneecapped, left a distinctly nasty taste in the mouth.
Alas, matters deteriorated still further in Act III with an interminable bit
of business involving bad coffee and even worse milk. The almost foolproof
moment leading into “O Sachs, mein Freund” failed to come off, despite the
best efforts of Sara Jakubiak’s Eva and Wolfgang Koch’s Sachs. This failure
was down to a combination of an insufficiently angry “Hat man mit dem
Schuhwerk nicht seine Not” and the decision of the director to not allow the
young lovers to be drawn into Sachs’ frustration and hurt. Despite being
hampered by this, this was Jakubiak’s best moment with her strong, very
individual voice given the chance to open out thrillingly. Later in the
horribly exposed launch of the sublime quintet she sounded nervous with the
voice losing focus at the ends of phrases. A pity that Petrenko, in a
generally very fast reading of the score, chose to slow the pace quite so
much at this most testing of pages.
Only a house with the tech-savvy
of Munich would stage the famously difficult scenic transfer from Sachs’
workshop (or graffitied van, in this production) into the meadow on the
banks of the Pegnitz without recourse to a drop curtain or house tabs. But,
bang on cue, huge sections of scenery glided off with a minimum of fuss and
noise thanks to the crack stage team. Admittedly what transpired was no
meadow but a grim adversarial ring surrounded by scaffolding balconies and
hung with crude banners. Only Pogner apparently could afford an illuminated
name sign. Beckmesser, dressed as if going for the bizarre act of the year
in Eurovision, was the only person onstage allowed any colour in sea of
white, blacks and greys. Clearly this populace had little cause to celebrate
Johannistag except for the obligatory day off from toil.
The actual
song contest proceeded much as in any production, though the joke of
Beckmesser’s song-spot constantly shifting position onstage soon became
wearisome. Jonas Kaufmann arrived as if playing the rock god and, given his
luminous singing of the Preislied, that seemed fair enough. Even Bösch’s
decision for Sachs’ plea to respect the Meister and Holy German Art to fall
on deaf ears and for Walther and Eva to abandon Nuremberg rang true within
the context of the production. To be honest, even Sachs didn’t seem that
convinced. But Bösch couldn’t even trust that slightly sour ending and piled
on the sensation by having poor Beckmesser first threaten Sachs with a gun
and finally blow his own brains out just as the music reached its joyful
climax. No wonder the audience were left flabbergasted – they were handed a
monstrous anti-climax which subverted Wagner’s intentions for cheap
sensationalism. A pity, as the first act had promised so much.
So
thank God for the musical side of this mismatched equation. Within the space
of one week I have been privileged to hear Christian Thielemann conduct one
of the finest Lohengrins of my experience and now Petrenko’s Meistersinger.
Far too many conductors smother this score with too much love and produce a
lumbering, turgid evening – Petrenko never made that mistake. The overture
kicked off at a tremendous lick – this was Meistersingers on a power walk
rather than the usual pompous march. Petrenko ensured throughout a long
evening that audibility was never compromised by orchestral grandeur.
The other aspect that characterised the musical evening was crystal
clarity and attention to precise musical detail. This was carried through to
the singers – I have rarely heard the numerous tiny decorations with which
Wagner peppered the vocal line sung with such accuracy. Two examples will
suffice – Kaufmann’s Act I “Gewinnen” and the numerous fussy fioriture in
Eiche’s Act II serenade. Eiche was in many ways the star of the evening.
Vocally almost impeccable, he portrayed a complex personality worlds away
from the usual desiccated caricature. Eiche (and presumably, Bösch’s)
Beckmesser was a young-ish man and a perfectly credible suitor for Eva. His
awkward personal interactions marked him out as a typical low-achiever, a
victim of bullying who, having achieved a modicum of power, has himself
become the bully. A pity that the climax of his Act III song of triumph
which should have crowned his assumption came slightly unstuck.
There
were loud mutterings after Kaufmann’s opening night relating to his alleged
unsuitability for the role and an overcautious husbanding of the voice in
the first two acts. However, 3 performances into the run, he seemed to have
settled into his stride and, while never producing a massive sound, had no
problems riding the orchestral climaxes. His “Am stillen Herd in Winterzeit”
was gorgeously realised and his furious outburst in Act II was appropriately
thrilling. He avoided the classic mistake of over-singing the song writing
scene and had plenty left for a crowning Preislied. Any long term
reservations are likely to relate to the vocal timbre, which is darker than
the usual silvery tenor in this role. But who today sings and looks the role
as well? It would be interesting to see him in a more traditional production
but, for now, after so many prophesies of doom related to his vocal estate,
I will be content with this performance.
Wolfgang Koch is familiar to
Londoners as Sachs, having appeared with the Royal Opera in both London and
Birmingham under Pappano. This, however, was a very different view of the
role and one which posed as many questions as answered. This cobbler,
scruffily dressed and almost grey of complexion, was no centre of his
community. Indeed, already living on the edges of society, he seemed almost
ready to drop off entirely. It appeared odd that such an apparently isolated
figure could hold sway amongst the Meister and, still more unlikely, in the
city as a whole. Koch sang with his accustomed power and sensitivity and
while the voice is not intrinsically beautiful he rarely flags even at the
end of a very long evening.
Benjamin Bruns, a singer new to me, was a
strong David – singing with a silvery beauty and power. Despite his scruffy
Masters, he was nattily attired in a shiny grey suit and bow tie and looking
almost disturbingly like a young Peter Pears. Bösch’s concept of the role
was far from the usual lively young whippersnapper. This David was a prissy
martinet in the making, far closer in character to Beckmesser than Sachs. As
with Beckmesser, there were disturbing indications that David was the victim
of bullying. His relationship with the very unpleasant apprentices trod an
uneasy path between overseer and punchbag. His extreme outburst of violence
towards Beckmesser, the character he most resembled, was therefore all the
more shocking. Bösch’s disturbing view of the apprentices extended to
several senior members of the ensemble being roped into their number and
then costumed as Just William type schoolboys.
As already noted,
Jakubiak was an unusual Eva, better at full throttle than in repose. She
looks gorgeous onstage and the relationship with Sachs is strongly
delineated. An unusual take on her part in Act III sees her believe that he
has betrayed her trust and agreed to her marriage to Beckmesser – Jakubiak’s
anger and disappointment was vividly felt, as was her radiance as she
realised her mistake. She was lucky to be paired with Okka von der Damerau’s
unusually imposing Magdalene, who already sounds ready to graduate to roles
such as Fricka and Brangäne.
All the Meister, including Eike Wilm
Schulte’s gentle Kothner, were strongly sung and vividly characterised – a
testament to the strength of the Munich ensemble. Also notable was Tareq
Nazmi’s Nightwatchman, whose resonant tone strongly contrasted with his
powerless Officer Krupke type character.
Musically, this was as fine
a Meistersinger as I’ve experienced in some years but the production was a
frustrating missed opportunity that threw away a promising first act in a
welter of cliché and unwanted sensationalism.
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