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New York Times, 14 July 2009 |
By GEORGE LOOMIS |
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Talent Makes 'Lohengrin' a Hot Ticket
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MUNICH — Operagoers know only too well the frustration of witnessing a
musically rewarding performance undermined by a wayward production. But
rarely is the gulf as wide as in the Bayerische Staatsoper’s new production
of Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” which opened last week in the National Theater.
This is Munich’s hottest opera ticket, made so by fevered expectations for
the tenor Jonas Kaufmann’s first-ever appearance in the title role. Not only
does he deliver, but the Staatsoper has surrounded him with singers at or
near his level.
This is the good news. The production by Richard Jones, however, puts
forward a sociopolitical interpretation in the form of metaphor: the ongoing
construction of what looks like a modest Bavarian country house. The décor
by the designer known as Ultz follows a practice common in large-scale
operas with massed scenes: a divider — here a wall with modern doors —
intermittently isolates characters for greater intimacy. Yet the wall’s real
function is to emphasize progress on the house each time the full stage is
revealed.
Mr. Jones portrays Elsa as no maiden in distress, but as an overalls-clad
construction worker scarcely bothered by the life-and-death charges of
fratricide leveled against her. After her champion Lohengrin mysteriously
appears, pledges his love and vindicates her cause, he picks up a trowel and
joins her in laying bricks while — in one of several mismatches between what
is seen and what is heard — soloists and chorus sing rapturously of his
victory.
By Act III the house is finished, in time to serve as home for the
newlyweds. The sparse, pine-paneled interior includes a cradle — perhaps Mr.
Jones will answer a favorite question of opera fans: what would it be like
if heroine X and hero Y survive to lead a normal domestic existence? But
Elsa poses a question of her own, breaking her promise not to ask about
Lohengrin’s name and origin; soon the knight douses the house and sets it
ablaze. The opera ends with mass suicide.
In a clip on the Staatsoper’s Web site, its general director, Nikolaus
Bachler, says that this “Lohengrin” is about constructing a new society.
(The program book offers a collection of articles about both Wagner —
including one mentioning Bayreuth’s jingoistic 1936 production — and
architecture, without linking the two.) Seizing on the chauvinistic tone of
the opera’s theme of uniting Germans against a common threat, Mr. Jones
chooses to delineate how to construct a new society the wrong way. The
nonspecific uniforms of Ultz’s costumes suggest both the former East Germany
(and thus the need for a new German society) and fascism (how not to achieve
it). But Mr. Jones’s strained interpretation results in a “Lohengrin” that
is perhaps the mirror image of the 1936 Bayreuth production. At bottom, his
is simply another attempt to exalt the unseemly in Wagner’s work. Don’t ask
about the opera’s mythic, chivalric or storybook dimensions.
The singing is so good as to soar above the surroundings, constantly
returning us to what Wagner had in mind. Though dressed in T-shirt and
athletic pants and endowed with superfluous magical powers, Mr. Kaufmann
conveyed Lohengrin’s essential nobility through his singing. He is an
accomplished exponent of Italian and French roles, but the voice has a
weight and darkish timbre ideal for lyrical Wagner roles like Lohengrin. He
makes a startlingly beautiful sound at full cry but also offers arresting
soft singing, as in the Grail Narrative, that never lapsed into crooning.
Anja Harteros sings Elsa in beautifully produced tones strung together in
legato phrases that capture the maiden’s dreamy nature. An especially
cherishable moment came when she hailed Lohengrin as her redeemer (“Mein
Erlöser”) with an exquisitely floated high A. But Ms. Harteros also
unleashed vocal reserves for Elsa’s more commanding utterances, as when
confronting the sorceress Ortrud.
Another outstanding performance comes from the baritone Wolfgang Koch as
Ortrud’s husband Telramund, who is duped into falsely charging Elsa, which
he does with thorough self-satisfaction. But Mr. Koch goes on to chart the
ill-fated knight’s growing desperation with fierce energy. Michaela Schuster
is a fine Ortrud, and a plausibly seductive one, but a few vocal blemishes
remind us that we have not in fact reentered a golden age of Wagner singing.
Christof Fischesser contributes an animated, well accented King Henry, and
Evgeny Nikitin, looking like a college professor in tweed jacket but oddly
stationed on a tall chair as if refereeing a tennis match, is a terrific
Herald.
The score sounded newly scrubbed in Kent Nagano’s scrupulously textured
reading. He is not one to indulge in Romantic excess, yet the clarity of the
playing he encouraged did not come at the expense of the music’s grander
gestures. Mr. Nagano observed the traditional cut in the final scene,
omitting the departing Lohengrin’s cringe-producing assurance that Germany
will never succumb to “Eastern hordes.” Never a regrettable loss, the
passage would be especially out of place here, since Mr. Jones has ensured
that the country is already in shambles. |
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