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Bachtrack, 11 August 2017 |
Von Zoltán Szabó |
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Wagner: Parsifal, Sydney, 9. August 2017 |
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The time has come: Jonas Kaufmann conquers Sydney as Parsifal
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As clearly visible on all photos, the Sydney Opera House has two “sails”,
interconnected major sections. One of them houses concerts, the other
operas. Opera performances, however, are not exclusively taking place in the
Opera Theatre. Over the years, essential works of the operatic canon,
neglected for a variety of reasons (some valid, others questionable) by
Opera Australia, have been produced in the Concert Hall by the Sydney
Symphony Orchestra. Due to the current renovation works in the Opera
Theatre, OA has come up with a number of alternate programmes in new venues;
one of these is three unstaged performances of Wagner’s Parsifal in the
Concert Hall.
The risks were considerable and not only financial. The
nation’s flagship company has not performed any of Wagner’s operas in Sydney
for many years, let alone Parsifal. The necessary physical and mental
stamina required for a non-repertoire opera lasting five-and-a-half hours is
immense, particularly regarding those protagonists who are constantly at
work during the performance: the orchestra and its conductor. The question
begged to be asked: would the orchestra of OA, unprotected by the anonymity
of their regular environment and unaccustomed to such exposure, be able to
emerge for all to see and hear; would it soar like Parsifal’s spear and
perform magic? The answer was reassuringly in the affirmative.
These
finely trained but seldom appreciated musicians gained a formidable and
inspiring ally in conductor Pinchas Steinberg, in his company debut. The
septuagenarian maestro kept proceedings firmly in hand, without any fuss but
with an unfailingly sensitive ear to detail, and, even more importantly, to
the balance. Right from the first extensive, longing sigh of the Prelude,
cushioned sonorities of the brass, finely tuned solo woodwind passages and
delicate, yet lush resonances of the strings promised much and delivered
even more. Despite the fact that the orchestra sat behind the soloists, no
singer was covered at any time by the might of the Wagnerian orchestra; a
major feat in an opera that was performed with no less than 107 orchestral
musicians at its 1882 première. The playing always remained sympathetic and
delicate – almost too much so at times; thus, the tumultuously descending
rapid scale announcing Kundry’s wild arrival sounded understated rather than
tortured, and the audience had to wait until the end of Act 1, the
uncovering of the Grail, before the release of the first genuine orchestral
fortissimo.
Overall, the stars lined up perfectly for a notable
performance (pun intended). Among the outstanding local and visiting
artists, two of the world’s leading Wagner singers excelled and contributed
to a truly memorable evening. Undoubtedly, the person everybody wanted to
see and hear was Jonas Kaufmann in the title role; I was, however, equally
captivated by Kwangchul Youn’s mesmerising performance as Gurnemanz. Both of
them were outstanding in their humble artistry and utterly human
personification of their role. Every word in Youn’s excellent diction had
meaning and importance, and every one of his lines was coated in the
honeydew of his warm bass voice; a voice that he, with enviable judgement,
hardly ever raised over mezzo forte. With the sensitive orchestral
accompaniment, there was no need, which paradoxically lent extra strength to
the role of Gurnemanz, who narrates much of the action in Act 1.
Similarly, Kaufmann used his famed Heldentenor not to show off but to
credibly build up the arch of his role from the swan-killing ‘guileless
fool’ (der reine Tor) at the beginning to the incorruptible hero who will
regain the spear and, like a latter-day Jesus, save Amfortas and his kingdom
by the end of the opera. Kaufmann’s wealth of experience in this role,
assisted by his focused commitment, resulted in a heartfelt interpretation.
The role of Klingsor, who is behind all evil deeds in this work, is
restricted to Act 2. Warwick Fyfe, whose artistic progress over the last
decade or so has been phenomenal, proved to be a worthy opponent to
Parsifal, dramatically as much as vocally. Unlike Youn, he never dropped his
passionate hatred (and his well-treated voice) much below boiling point.
Fyfe’s representation of Klingsor’s impotent frustration was as astute as it
was frightening.
In such august company, Michael Honeyman, as
Amfortas, sounded adequate, but not much more. His vocal qualities are
unquestionable; however, more empathy and artistic presence is needed to
credibly deliver the wounded king’s eternal pain. David Parkin as Titurel
sounded majestic and authoritative even from his position behind the
orchestra.
Of the female roles, the six Flower Maidens were
individually stylish and seductive but in their ensemble overbearing. Their
collective lack of volume control was intensified by Kaufmann’s gentle
responses as he resisted both their physical and vocal challenge. Michelle
DeYoung sang the role of Kundry with pained passion; the qualities of her
attractive voice were, however, at times diminished by an excessive vibrato.
No other Wagner opera offers as much to the chorus as Parsifal. The OA
and the Children’s Choruses sang with obvious enthusiasm and added many
colours to an already glowing performance.
Klingsor’s opening line is
(albeit referring to something altogether different) “Die Zeit ist da”.
Indeed, “the time has come” for Opera Australia to prove that its forces are
more than capable of delivering a highly satisfying performance of such a
demanding work, as Wagner’s last music drama. And, by extension, of other,
similar repertoire.
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