Deathly Hollow

Review – Tristan and Isolde (English National Opera, Thursday 9 June 2016)

Tristan – Stuart Skelton
Isolde – Heidi Melton
Brangäne – Karen Cargill
Kurwenal – Craig Colcough
King Marke – Matthew Rose
Melot – Stephen Rooke
Young Sailor – David Webb
A Shepherd – Peter Van Hulle
A Helmsman – Paul Sheehan

Director – Daniel Kramer
Set Designer – Anish Kapoor
Justin Nardella – Associate Set Designer
Christina Cunningham – Costume Designer
Paul Anderson – Lighting Designer
Freider Weiss – Video Designer

Orchestra of English National Opera
Edward Gardner (Conductor)

It’s hard not to be incredibly disappointed by ENO’s new production of Tristan und Isolde on every front except one – the magnificent playing of the orchestra under the baton of Edward Gardner. His tempos weren’t always convincing but the opening prelude – and the singing of David Webb as the Young Sailor from on high – set up a sense of expectation that was dashed like a ship trying to negotiate entry to Kareol.

Everything else – the confused staging, the poor direction and overall, the quality of the singing, just left a great empty hole which even Wagner’s music couldn’t fill.

Arguably, Tristan and Isolde are two of the biggest roles in opera and ultimately the two leads, Heidi Melton and Stuart Skelton, did not deliver. As Tristan, Skelton sounded mostly vocally under-powered and musically distant in the First Act. While he improved in the Second Act, he was hampered both by lacklustre direction and having to negotiate the set and in the Third Act he sounded vocally strained and at times literally ragged. Ms Melton was sadly wholly unconvincing. Vocally, this was much more than just a stretch and she sounded severely compromised at the higher end of her range. Top notes seemed only to be achieved through sheer physical effort and jarred Wagner’s vocal line. The resultant stress and strain then created a sound that was often harsh and unappealing – the greatest shame being the strangled final notes that sank below the lush, luminous sound of the orchestra’s closing bars. Personally I don’t think that this role is suited to her voice and in the long term could actually do some damage. Her acting was similarly under-developed.

In the supporting roles, Matthew Rose made an uneasy start but steadied quickly. Karen Cargill delivered a rich and mainly nuanced performance although there was at times a worrying amount of vibrato. Colin Colclough’s Kurwenal was also vocally strong but marred but a characterisation that – like the rest of the production – betrayed the opera itself.

And what of the production? Anish Kapoor has clearly researched previous productions of Wagner operas – from Wieland to the present day. Fused with his own previous work it just created a lack of coherence. The set for Act One was visually arresting, smartly creating both the idea of a ship as well as the distance between the two protagonists, but I did wonder about sight lines issues and the clumsy management of the two lovers once the potion had been drunk. The Second Act presented its own problems. Having the singers clamber around destroyed any sense of intimacy or – let’s face it – eroticism, and I would imagine that quite a few in the audience became distracted by the lightshow. And what were they clambering around? The moon? Their imagination? Or did King Marke really have an ugly grotto in his forest? Who knows and by that point did anyone care. The sudden appearance of surgeons and hospital beds upon their discovery by Marke felt contrived – a need to create a sense of sudden and unrelated drama. The final act – again relying on animation as distraction became tiresome and lacked any sense of dramatic impact.

As this production trudged inexorably it wasn’t helped by Kramer’s direction – or general lack of it as evidence by a reliance on stock dramatic gestures. There were some well observed moments in the opening act, but overall Kramer leeched any emotional intensity or electricity from the stage. Isolde’s self-harming was an interesting insight but wasn’t developed except by the two leads smearing themselves in blood and I why Kurwenal’s brutality towards Brangäne? He is a squire if not a knight after all. Neither eroticism nor sensuality stood a chance in the Second Act and the drama of Tristan’s monologue was undermined by Kurwenal’s clowning.

In terms of the costumes the clash of styles was more suggestive of time bandits than timelessness. The Eighteenth Century inspiration for Isolde, Brangäne and Kurwenal – by way of the blockbuster Mockingjay series it seemed – contrasted with the oriental-inspired costuming for King Marke’s court, except for his doctors. Yet by the Third Act, time seemed to have moved on – the characters had been aged with the resultant loss or growth or grey hair. Tristan had the stamina to survive a mortal wound, and Isolde was rowing herself to his rescue.

Ultimately, this Tristan und Isolde failed to convince, impress or excite on any level but one – the orchestra and Edward Gardner. The singers were disadvantaged; the direction was devoid of dramatic intent and Kramer, unwittingly I hope, bleached this great love story of any emotion.

A tragedy? Yes, but in every wrong way.

 

The Greatest Love Of All

Review – Die Walküre, Act Three (Millennium Centre, Cardiff. Sunday 26 April)

Wotan – Bryn Terfel
Brünnhilde – Iréne Theorin
Sieglinde – Rachel Nicholls
Die Walküre – Camilla Roberts (Gerhilde); Katherine Broderick (Helmwige); Sarah Pring (Waltraute); Emma Carrington ( Schwertleite); Meeta Raval (Ortlinde); Madeleine Shaw (Siegrune); Ceri Williams (Grimgerde); Leah-Marian Jones (Rossweisse)

Welsh National Opera Orchestra
Lothar Koenigs (Conductor)

My original feelings of disappointment at the no-show by Evelyn Herlitzius were dismissed with the opening bars of this performance of the final act of Die Walküre. Not only was the orchestral sound rich and deep, with barking brass and an urgency in the woodwind that is often lacking, but there was a pent up energy, an almost rhythmic brutality created by Lothar Koenig’s conducting.

I often fear that – with the performance of single acts of complete operas –the lack of both emotional and musical momentum created by the preceding act will be have a detrimental impact. Not so here. From the opening bars to the final moment when Terfel glanced back, this was a performance replete with incredible performances and dripping with visceral drama.

And the vocal prowess of every performer matched that of the orchestral players, starting with an impressive band of warrior maidens. Each and every one was full-blooded in their singing but there was also something else. Perhaps it was the obvious enjoyment these eight singers conveyed singing as ensemble, but there was not only a sense of sisterly camaraderie but also a real sense of competition between these maidens. And special mention must go to Katherine Broderick, Meeta Raval, Camilla Roberts and Emma Carrington.

Superb.

As Sieglinde, Rachel Nicholls’ perhaps suffered slightly from not inheriting the Dramatic momentum of singing the first two acts. In spite of some distracting vibrato, she gave a good and solid account but I’m not sure that ultimately she has the heft for the entire role.

The last time I saw Iréne Theorin was when she stood in at the last moment for an indisposed Katarina Dalayman for the second act of Tristan und Isolde. I never got a chance to write that performance up but I have long admired her. Her performance in the Salzburg Elektra in the title role is well-worth the price of the DVD alone as Isolde last year she was superb.

But here as Brünnhilde, Theorin gave a performance of incredible – almost iconic – stature. Her interpretation was multi-faceted, resting comfortably on rock solid technique and using to the fullest her superb vocal instrument seeped extravagantly in both colour and timbre.

This Brünnhilde was not only simply magnificent, but also a woman. From the moment she stalked on stage, Sieglinde in tow, she portrayed a Brünnhilde at first in desperate flight before transitioning into a defiant yet resolute daughter to the very end. Vocally, her soprano gleamed and shone, effortlessly cutting through the orchestra. And she made every word clear and every phrase, intelligently shaped, count. And once she had despatched Siegmund’s widow to the forest, her fear of confronting her father was almost palpable.

I often think that the scene between father and daughter is nothing short of a love duet. I can’t think of another scene depicting love – in whatever form – that surpasses it. The love Wotan has for Brünnhilde and her love for him is, quite simply, the greatest love of all. And that is what makes his final farewell so heart-rending. And what inspired Wagner to one of his greatest moments in the opera.

And this love was evident her subsequent sparring with Wotan. Not only was it ever so beautifully sung, each phrase eloquently shaped, each she imbued each word and sentence with a conviction that she had ultimately done his bidding. Whether she was revealing the truth of Siegmund’s heir or imploring Wotan to guarantee a hero’s-only rescue, so impassioned was Theorin’s performance that you felt it was almost as if Wotan himself was going to be convinced.

And Bryn Terfel – first heard off-stage a before storming in in true fury, gave an equally defining performance as Wotan. From his first entrance, he took the willing audience through the entire range of emotions that this God feels – anger and fury, disappointment, anguish, love and finally resignation, not only at the loss of his daughter, but of his own ultimate fate. This was a performance on par with his incredible performance at the Proms two years ago. As with Theorin, each word was weighed and conveyed with authority; each line of Wagner’s music dug into to heighten it’s emotional impact. The despair, as well as the love he felt for his daughter washed over the entire hall as he launched into Leb’ wohl, du kühnes, herrliches Kind!.

Ranged behind the singers, and as I’ve already mentioned, the Welsh National Opera Orchestra supported the singers with great authority, playing their own critical role in weaving together Wagner’s incredible canvas. Koenig’s Wagnerian credentials are second to none already, and in this performance he demonstrated that he firmly understands the architecture and breadth of Wagner’s music, while also giving it both time to breath and revealing the smallest of details.

With singing and playing of this calibre, surely it is time for Welsh National Opera to consider – even in concert-version – a Ring cycle?

Kunst & Company First.

Review – The Mastersingers of Nuremberg (English National Opera, Saturday 7 February 2015)

Hans Sachs – Iain Paterson
Walther von Stolzing – Gwyn Hughes Jones
Sixtus Beckmesser – Andrew Shore
Veit Pogner – James Cresswell
Eva Pogner – Rachel Nicholls
Magdalena – Madeleine Shaw
David – Nicky Spence

Fritz Kothner – David Stout
Kunz Vogelgesang – Peter Van Hulle
Konrad Nachtigall – Quentin Hayes
Ulrich Eisslinger – Timothy Robinson
Herman Ortell – Nicholas Folwell
Balthasar Zorn – Richard Roberts
Augustin Moser – Stephen Rooke
Hans Folz – Roderick Earle
Han Schwarz – Jonathan Lemalu
Nightwatchman – Nicholas Crawley

Director – Richard Jones
Set Designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume Designer – Buki Shiff
Lighting Designer – Mimi Jordan Sherrin
Choreographer – Lucy Burge

The Chorus of English National Opera
The Orchestra of English National Opera
Edward Gardner (Conductor)

It’s me, I know, but Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg is possibly the only opera by Wagner that I truly struggle with. Even more so than with Parsifal.

I am beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that it’s because it is slightly too “home and hearth” for me. I have a similar problem with Strauss’ Intermezzo. Maybe I just like dragons, magic potions and gods too much.

But don’t get me wrong, this is a magnificent production in spite of the broo-ha-ha currently taking the headlines over the (mis)management at English National Opera. I was afforded quite a good ringside seat during the last management meltdown at St Martin’s Lane, and then as now, despite what is happening two doors down in the management office, the company rises above it all to produce music making of brilliance. When Sean Doran and Martin Smith exited stage left, the company pulled together for an utterly sublime Billy Budd. And last night they did they same for Wagner.

Perhaps ENO should become a commune and dismiss all the management as well as the constantly interfering board. Perhaps democracy might be a better way forward?

ENO’s “Mastersinger” is in fact the WNO production that Richard Jones created in 2010. It’s a shame that – celebrating his quarter century with the Coliseum – it wasn’t a completely new production. But considering this is an opera of epic, almost Cecil B De Mille proportions, and ENO’s financial straits, this was probably the best option.

The production itself was replete with Jones’ usual vocabulary and visual style but that is not to say that it felt tired. Rather, as ever his attention to detail, the careful attention paid to each and every characterisation, made this a very rich and satisfying evening. As he made clear in the programme, his was not a Mastersinger set in the Sixteenth Century but rather in a period inspired by the year of the opera’s first performance – 1868. While I didn’t quite get the sense of ennui he mentioned, his approach did capture a sense of immured traditionalism, and indeed at the end I wasn’t so sure that von Stolzing wasn’t going to find himself – rather like the Emperor in FroSch – turned to stone rather than leading a revolution.

Gwyn Hughes Jones made an impressive Walther von Stolzing. His singing conveyed a real sense of the character’s impetuosity married to some marvelously lyrical singing and real attention to the dynamics. Rachel Nicholls, replacing (sadly for me) Wendy Bryn Harmer, also proved very able as Eva Pogner although her voice did, on occasion, sound slightly pushed. In contrast, Madeleine Shaw’s Magdalena was delightful, possessing a bright and focused soprano and real acting ability. I last heard James Cresswell in ENO’s Dutchman at which time I had some misgivings about his performance. But of his Pogner I had no reservations whatsoever with a performance that was vocally mellifluent, pleasingly resonant and beautifully articulated. Both Andrew Shore’s Beckmesser and Nicky Spence’s David turned in performances of credibility – even if at times both sounded slightly challenged by the music – to complete an able ensemble of key characters.

But of course, the main focus was for most people the debut of Iain Paterson as Hans Sachs. Having greatly enjoyed his Kurwenal at the end of last year as well as his Wotan for Barenboim at the Proms, his first Sachs was equally impressive. He is an intuitive Wagnerian and this shone through in this debut. Vocally assured – although there were some occasions when I felt we lost him in his lower register – there was a depth and intelligence to both his singing and his portrayal of the cobbler that bodes well for Paterson becoming much in demand in this role in future.

From the pit, the soon-to-depart Edward Gardner once again inspired some splendidly rich and eloquent playing from the orchestra and hearty singing from the chorus. While there were some slight glitches in negotiating the various gear changes in the overture, the panache of Gardner’s approach suited the grandeur of Wagner’s music. Indeed, it is sad to think that this is Gardner’s final season as Music Director at the Coliseum and it will be sad to see him depart.

So, no denying that ENO’s Mastersinger was a triumph and proof that when a crisis hits – as it so often seems to at this venue – the company itself can rise above the back-biting of the senior management and boardroom and produce great art.

A true company effort.

Mass Transfiguration

Review – Tristan und Isolde (Royal Opera House, Friday 5 December 2014)

Tristan – Stephen Gould
Isolde – Nina Stemme
Brangäne – Sarah Connolly
Kurwenal – Iain Paterson
King Marke – John Tomlinson
Sailor – Ed Lyon
Melot – Neal Cooper
Shepherd – Graham Clark
Steersman – Yuriy Yurchuk

Director – Christof Loy
Associate Director – Julia Burbach
Designs – JohannesLeiacker
Lighting Design – Olaf Winter

Royal Opera House Chorus
Orchestra of the Royal Opera House

Antonio Pappano (Conductor)

Transfiguration (Def)
Pronunciation: /ˌtransfɪɡəˈreɪʃ(ə)n, ˌtrɑːns-, -ɡjʊr-, -nz-/

Meaning: “A complete change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state.”

The current revival of Tristan und Isolde is missing one thing. The programme should carry a health warning.

It’s been a while since I have left a production of such searing intensity that my senses were overloaded. And despite having seen the original production in 2009 – and loved it back then – nothing prepared me for the emotional and musical impact created that evening.

And I don’t believe I was the only one. While I seriously did think that Nina Stemme as Isolde was singing just for me – something I experienced when I saw her sing Brunnhilde at the Proms – I am sure that her performance of the Irish Princess was as overwhelming for the majority of the people sitting in Covent Garden that night.

It’s hard not to speak just of Nina Stemme’s performance but – as with the Berlin Ring cycle in 2012 – she was part of a cast that was from top to bottom, superlative.

Tristan is a challenging role but Stephen Gould’s performance was one of the most impressive I have heard in a long time. Vocally robust, as well as having the necessary heft and stamina, he also infused his singing with a musically intelligent use of colour and dynamic range. His Third Act monologue was beautifully paced and full of the dramatic impetus that is sometimes lacking in singers and in the Second Act he was wonderfully in sync with Stemme throughout.

As his companion Iain Paterson was equally impressive. His ‘brag’ in the opening act had the necessary balance of swagger and charm and his investment in making Kurwenal a believable character rather than a simple cypher was compelling at the opening of the Third Act as he moved from resignation and remorse to ultimately love and fealty even in death.

While some did not admire John Tomlinson’s King Marke, I was completely mesmerized. I have to admit if there’s a moment when my mind is apt to wander it is usually at the end of the Second Act when the King discovers the betrayal.

Not on this occasion. While his voice doesn’t necessarily have the range or lustre that it once had, there was an innate musicianship to Tomlinson’s performance and portrayal that made the King – for me – a human being.

And before we get to Isolde and her maid, a special mention of Ed Lyon. Why isn’t he seen on Covent Garden’s main stage more often. His lustrous tenor sailed out across the auditorium, beautifully clear and shaped. And in the smaller support roles, Neal Cooper as Melot as well as Graham Clark and Yuriy Yurchuk made very strong impressions.

Sarah Connolly is one of those singers who – no matter the role – pours her heart, soul and incredible talent into it. Alongside her Medea and her Octavian, her Brangane was no exception. I am currently listening to her new recording of Elgar’s Sea Pictures (high recommended) and her voice has developed a noticeably richer, deeper hue that was very much in evidence on stage as well. She matched her Isolde note for note, mood for mood in the First Act, and her warnings during the lovers’ tryst soared over the orchestra from the back of the stage.

But of course it was Nina Stemme’s Isolde that dominated. She has grown in the role since 2009, there is a new depth to her hatred as well as her passion around which is wrapped the most mesmerizing – almost hypnotic – singing, not only in terms of quality and richness but also in terms of characterization. Her curse reminded me of the white heat she generated in the trio of Gotterdammerung, but it was her Liebestod – a culmination of the emotional intensity of the entire evening – that left everything in its wake. And how wonderfully she floated the closing phrase.

Magical.

I read recently that Loy didn’t have Isolde die at the end, but rather she returns to her ordinary life with King Marke. And as Isolde slowly slid into that chair, I definitely felt that sense of resignation and nostalgia for a love lost and irreplaceable.

And I admit I love Loy’s production – the way he creates two very different worlds, bound together by an incredible sense of tension. He captures perfectly the simple fact that when you are in love, nothing else – not the world around you – matters. The life that surrounds a couple in love seems slower, more muted. But at the same time he creates a real sense of emotional tension in the small gestures. The almost tangible “buttoned-up” feeling he created – so cleverly in such an open space – could do nothing but explode with the ferocity of their first embrace. The way Stemme portrayed Isolde with almost child-like naiveté filled with overwhelming excitement as she spoke to Brangane as the Second Act opened. Setting the table. The way that, as they moved into the duet proper, Tristan and Isolde moved slowly together, hands touching first before holding one another.

Loy’s production brings Tristan und Isolde into the real world, amplifying emotions and turmoil that most people would fear to feel or express. I sincerely hope that – as the BBC don’t seem to be broadcasting it on BBC Four despite an apparent new commitment to the arts – Covent Garden are taking the opportunity to film this production for posterity.

And Pappano directed the orchestra with incredible fervor. The tempo at which he too the opening Prelude set the tenor for the entire opera. There was a noticeable ferocity to the playing in the First Act that was beautifully counterbalanced by the luxuriant sound world he created for the Second. And in the final Act, he slowly built on the bleak, drained sound created in the orchestra for Tristan’s monologue to created crashing waves of glorious – almost technicolour – sound for those closing moments.

And as the music slowly faded, I have no doubt that it was a performance that quite literally transfigured many of the people who had witnessed it.

Northern Twilight

Review – Götterdämmerung (Leeds Town Hall, Saturday 12 July 2014)

First Norn – Fiona Kimm
Second Norn – Heather Shipp
Third Norn – Lee Bisset
Brünnhilde – Alwyn Mellor
Siegfried – Mati Turi
Hagen – Mats Almgren
Gunter – Eric Greene
Gutrune – Orla Boylan
Waltraute – Susan Bickley
Alberich – Jo Pohlheim
Woglinde – Katherine Broderick
Wellgunde – Madeline Shaw
Flosshilde – Sarah Castle

Vocal Consultants – Dame Anne Evans & Sir John Tomlinson

Chorus of Opera North
Orchestra of Opera North

Concert Staging & Design Concept – Peter Mumford
Lighting & Projection Designer – Peter Mumford

Richard Farnes (Conductor)

The success of Opera North’s Ring cycle cannot be overestimated either in terms of ambition and vision but also – ultimately – artistic standards.

It’s to the Company’s credit and determination that they’ve delivered this cycle despite the initial media and public reservations and in a tough economic climate. And artistically, overall it has been a success.

What Ring cycle doesn’t have its weak links or moments of disappointment?

An incredible Das Rheingold was followed by a more disappointing Die Walküre and Siegfried but the final performance of Götterdämmerung in Leeds dissipated any previous concerns with playing and singing that was in the main superlative.

And superlative is the adjective best applied to the incredible playing of the Orchestra of Opera North.

Richard Farnes inspired some of the most luminous and rich playing I’ve heard in any Ring cycle. Not only was there a depth and volume to the strings but Farnes marshalled them with utter precision, and they responded accordingly to the ebb and flow of Wagner’s music. Wind and brass – from the opening chords – played with complete confidence, balancing the warmth of the strings with a bloom and – as required – piquancy that reverberated around the hall. And the percussion was every bit as committed. Never have the timpani beats, reminding the audience of Fafner and Fasolt, sounded so forbidding.

And as well as providing incredible support to the singers, the orchestra was very much part of the unfolding drama. From Siegfried’s journey down the Rhine to his devastating Funeral March, the orchestra provided an additional narrative of timbres and colours.

And in the podium, Farnes demonstrated a grip of the music and it’s overall architecture as he had in Siegfried. He had the sweep of the music firmly in his hands but didn’t allow it to swamp the finer details of Wagner’s score. While his departure from Opera North might be a loss to the Company itself, I sincerely hope that he will now be seen in other opera houses – and especially in Germany – where I think his talent and musicianship will be most welcome.

Of the singers, Alwyn Mellor as Brünnhilde was inevitably the focus of everyone’s attention. And rightly so. Following her appearance as Sieglinde in Opera North’s Walküre you have to wonder why Ms Mellor wasn’t cast as Wotan’s daughter for the entire cycle?

It was a very accomplished interpretation and performance. And I separate those two elements deliberately. Technically, apart from the occasional snatched note at the top of her range, Ms Mellor demonstrated that she has the heft and stamina for the role. And by stamina I don’t only mean that she can rise above the orchestra as required, but until the very end she demonstrated the ability to scale her voice right down. I always think it is a test of any Brünnhilde how she sings “Ruhe, ruhe, du Gott!”. The Immolation scene isn’t only one of volume, and this Brünnhilde showed that as well as providing the sheer volume, in the more reflective moments she could similarly project her vocal authority with eloquence. And in terms of interpretation, Ms Mellor revealed both the daughter of Wotan and betrayed wife of Siegfried. There was a convincing vulnerability to her characterisation, particularly at the beginning of the Second Act. But as a scorned woman she quickly revealed a steely determination before ending the opera once again as the daughter of a God – wise, forgiving and ultimately resolved to her fate.

And while Alwyn Mellor’s Brünnhilde – as with all Brünnhilde’s – will always be an evolving interpretation, her performance in Götterdämmerung suggests that she has it within her grasp to be a leading Brünnhilde.

I shall be looking out for her on stage in the future and I sincerely hope that Opera North have contracted her as all three Brünnhilde’s for their complete cycles in 2016. Indeed I hope one day to hear her as Isolde.

Mati Turi was pronounced slightly indisposed before the performance began. After my concerns about his pacing in Siegfried, clearly a solid technique helped him deliver a convincing performance in this final opera. If his singing felt was slightly ‘covered’ and less than heroic at times, it remained elegantly fluid and his narration in the Third Act was well nuanced and intelligently sung.

As Brünnhilde’s sister, Susan Bickley made for a totally convincing Waltraute. Having seen her most recently as Eduige in Rodelinda and Jocasta in Thebans, she brought her vast experience to bear on this small, yet pivotal, role. For a moment I almost thought she was about to convince Brünnhilde to return to Valhalla and thereby rob us of the rest of the evening. Fortunately they stuck to Wagner’s plan.

The three Rhinemaidens delivered some of the finest ensemble singing in these roles I’ve heard. Their voices remained distinct but melded beautifully, each displaying a keen ear in terms shaping their phrasing. And similarly Lee Bisset – an impressive Freia – returned as a vocally nuanced and confident Third Norn. I do wonder why we don’t hear her more in London?

Of the remaining roles, it was Alberich and his son Hagen who delivered the most convincing performances. In the dream scene, Jo Pohlheim instantly reminded us why he made such an impact in Siegfried. In signature black gloves, his resonant and darkly hued bass was matched by his acting ability. And like father like son in terms of Mats Almgren’s Hagen. The intonation and diction problems that affected his Fafner were nowhere to be seen in his performance as the Gibichung’s half-brother, sung with a malevolent and confident eloquence.

The Chorus of Opera North gave electrifying performances in the Second Act – diction clear, singing forceful yet clean and distinct.

As in her portrayal of Senta for ENO, I found Orla Boylan’s Gutrune rather hard-toned vocally. She has the heft and despite a tendency for her voice to spread at the top of her range, the technique but the edge in her voice diminishes any sense of gleam or warmth. But there was no doubting the passion and musicianship she invested in the role especially after Siegfried’s death. However, as her brother, Eric Greene’s Gunter was disappointing – vocally occluded and at times technically and musically strained.

Yet the sum of this Götterdämmerung’s parts outweighed its small disadvantages, making for a thrilling evening and fitting end to this ambitious project. And it seemed right and proper that Farnes and his incredible players received the loudest cheer and ovation at the end if it all.

Potted Wagner.

Review – Inside Wagner’s Head (The Linbury Theatre, Thursday 5 September 2013)

Writer & Performer – Simon Callow
Director – Simon Stokes
Designs – Robin Don
Lighting Design – Rick Fisher
Sound Design – Adrienne Quartly
Video Design – Robin Don, Duncan Mclean

“I come to Wagner, not as an addict but as a devotee, not as a musician but as a music lover, not as an interpreter but as an observer …”

So begins Simon Callow’s programme note for his one-man show, In Wagner’s Head – part of Deloitte Ignite’s Wagner festival curated by Stephen Fry. Sadly it is the only part of Fry’s programming that I will be able to see but if the rest is of this quality then it will be impressive.

It’s a bold man who endeavours to relate the life and music of Richard Wagner on stage alone. But Simon Callow has both the presence and the charisma for the job.

This was ‘shorthand’ Wagner. But it didn’t suffer as a consequence.

Well constructed on the whole and over a span of about one hundred minutes, Callow began with the simple premise that throughout his Wagner upset people either voluntarily or not, through the sheer force of his personality.

From husbands and wives to princes and kings, from philosophers and critics to singers and conductors, each had a strong reaction to the composer, his writing and his music.

Mediocre just wasn’t ‘in Wagner’s DNA’ and no one it seemed was immune to the force of Wagner’s personality. Something that holds true even today as we celebrate his bicentenary.

Overall Callow’s narration was a fine balance of contextualised history, biography and anecdotes. He also skillfully weaved in clear and generally simple definitions of the beliefs and thinkers who had influenced the composer such as Feuerbach, Bakunin and most importantly Schopenhauer.

Naturally the script touched upon Wagner’s attitude and opinions on Judaism, which Callow dealt with adroitly. This was not I believe from any attempt to gloss over Wagner’s anti-Semitism but rather because Callow rightly felt that to enter into anything more detailed or opinionated would drag the evening off its main direction.

The stage itself was adorned with aide memoires, which enabled Callow to map the story of Wagner’s life. While some are more obvious than others – the anvil and horned helmet for example – others only become clear as Callow recounts his tale. The swinging lamp – simple yet dramatic – for The Flying Dutchman for example and the spinning wheel representing not Senta but Cosima creating hearth and home at Wahnfried. And each was smoothly woven into the narrative by Callow. Similarly the video projections were never distracting but supported what Callow was saying with some nice visual touches.

And yet, while there’s no doubt that Callow is both devotee and observer, personally I wonted for more music during the evening. The excerpts – such as they were – felt too short and there were moments when music could have lifted – or perhaps replaced – some of the narrative itself.

But by the end of the performance, it was clear that Callow had crafted this piece from his own deep love of and respect for Richard Wagner. But more importantly, he had created a work that appealed both to devotees like him as well as an audience who might not know that much about the man himself.

If there are still tickets left, it is worth seeing.

Stemme Shrinks Then Soars

Review – Götterdämmerung (BBC Proms, Sunday 28 July 2013)

Brünnhilde – Nina Stemme
Siegfried – Andreas Schager
Hagen – Mikhail Petrenko
Gunther – Gerd Grochowski
Gutrune & Third Norn – Anna Samuil
Waltraute & Second Norn – Waltraud Meier
First Norn – Margarita Nekrasova
Alberich – Johannes Martin Kränzle
Woglinde – Aga Mikolaj
Wellgunde – Maria Gortsevskaya
Flosshilde – Anna Lapkovskaja

Royal Opera Chorus
Staatskapelle Berlin

Daniel Barenboim (Conductor)

Nina Stemme performed a magic trick last night – over and above her stunning performance and that of her colleagues.

The Swedish soprano managed to shrink the Royal Albert Hall so that over five thousand people believed that they were alone with her and she was singing just to them.

Astounding.

There aren’t words to adequately describe this performance of Götterdämmerung. Or indeed the entire cycle brought to London by Daniel Barenboim and the Berlin Staatskapelle.

From the opening bars of Das Rheingold, through the drama of Die Walküre and the closing ecstasy of Siegfried to the final Immolation Scene last night, this is a cycle that stands comparison with the greatest. In fact, personally it surpasses all too many of them.

A constant throughout the four nights was the superlative playing of the Berlin Staatskapelle. Never have I heard such precise yet flexible playing. Every note was imbued with colour, every phrase articulated to perfection, every dynamic not only realized but also chased down with unerring precision. And if the drama was played out in front of them, then the players realized the drama themselves. Last night alone I watched as the clarinetists swayed, as the Second Violins dug deeper than ever before as Barenboim urged them to ever grittier playing the Siegfried’s Funeral March, as the brass lit up the entire hall with some of the most accomplished, and assured ensemble and solo playing I have every heard.

Yet at no point did the orchestral overpower the singers. Marshalled to perfection, under Barenboim’s leadership they were the singers’ willing friends, lovers and accomplices throughout. No detail was too small to be brought to the fore, no texture too inconsequential to highlight. Lavish attention was paid to the inner detail of Wagner’s music, no section rushed through or simply played to get to the next tableau. For example the transition to Siegfried’s Rhine Journey was full of the expected panache and arrogance of youth, but the transition back before the incredible confrontation of Stemme and Meier managed to convey the familial gloom that was about to descend.

Rising above the Staatskapelle was a cast of singers that was nothing short of the perfect ensemble.

The Rhinemaidens – Aga Mikolaj, Maria Gortsevskaya and Anna Lapkovskaja – made a welcome return to the stage, delighting with their finely crafted ensemble singing. Margarita Nekrasova’s First Norn alongside her sisters was in possession of a darkly hued voice perfectly suited to the role and her attention to the words was telling.

Johannes Martin Kränzle also returned as Alberich for the dream sequence at the opening of the Second Act. The return of so many of the singers in the same roles delivered in spades in terms of characterisation. Kränzle‘s Alberich of the final opera in the quartet was a Nibelung that had surpassed greed and revenge and had reached desperation.

Anna Samuil improved on her initial outing as Freia as both the Third North and Gutrune. While her voice retained a slightly brittle and brassy tone and ventured a little wayward above the stave, her performance – particularly as she awaited Siegfried’s return – as the tragic Gibichung sister was never anything less than committed. And as her brother, Gerd Grochowski’s Gunther balanced some fine singing with strong acting skills.

What Mikhail Petrenko’s Hagen may have very occasionally lacked in heft he made up for in the malevolence of his characterization. Like Terfel in Die Walküre, Petrenko deployed his stage whisper with chilling effect and combined with his fine ability to sneer through his words, he made his Hagen eminently believable and dislikeable. And ranged alongside him as his cohorts and conspirators, the excellent chorus of the Royal Opera House.

But what a difference a Siegfried can make, and in Andreas Schager I think we finally have a Siegfried of note. Schager is the man who stepped into Barenboim’s Ring when the contracted Siegfried – Lance Ryan – did not turn up.

Lucky for us Schager set his watch correctly.

From the get go this was a Siegfried to be reckoned with. Vocally stunning til the end, Schager was not only technically stunning, but he also possesses a clear, bright tenor voice, burnished and even and – most importantly – able to deliver the broadest dynamic range with any drop in the quality of his singing. From his opening duet with Nina Stemme to his final monologue, Schager was Siegfried and this was only made more pronounced by his excellent acting. This was a Siegfried with swagger, exuberance and more than a little naïve arrogance.

So finally to the two leading ladies.

First, Waltraud Meier. I still remember her Ortrud in Munich and here, both as Waltraute and Second Norn, she once again demonstrated that she is, quite simply, a singer of incredible distinction, experience and authority with a voice that literally shines. And the audience showed their appreciation and veneration for Ms Meier at the end. Waltraute might be a small role but in Waltraud Meier it had both stature and nobility.

And Nina Stemme? Over the course of the cycle – from the exuberance of her opening Hojotoho in Die Walküre to her final Selig grüsst dich dein Weib! – this magnificent soprano took the entire audience on Brünnhilde’s journey from Immortal Warrior to Woman.

Stemme’s performance had everything. Vocally secure throughout, there was a steely sheen and gloss combined with a depth and weight in her voice that carried her both above and through the orchestra. And it was a Brünnhilde of great subtlety. Stemme displayed a stunning control of both dynamic range and colour that was thrilling. Her sense of horror at the end of the First Act was nothing compared to the white-hot rage as she realizes her deception by Siegfried and the resultant blood-curdling trio as she exacts her revenge. And all delivered with such passion, vitality and breadth of colour that the audience collectively held its breath.

But nothing prepared the audience for the final scene. Here the sweep of grandeur of Stemme’s voice, her total commitment, the sense not only of finality, but both justice and love was wrapped up in the most incredible Immolation scene ever heard.

And what a dramatic coup – placing her above the orchestra, above the audience. Amazing.

Her success was evident in the roar of approval from the audience. It was nothing short of any shout than can be heard in any sports stadium.

Finally to Daniel Barenboim. Genius. Simply genius.

Over four nights he brought Wagner’s music to life, painting a succession of scenes in both words and sound that was nothing short of perfection. And his short speech at the end, after all the cheering, was brilliant.

And his clear love of the Ring cycle was evident throughout. Not in the fact that he didn’t always need the score; or that he energetically exhorted the orchestra to dig deeper and deeper into the music; or that he coaxed and directed the singers, shaping their phrases with his gestures.

No. It was in those moments when he stood back against the podium and let the music sing out for itself.

This was a Ring cycle not of note but of history. And to be part of it was more than exhilarating. Or exciting. Or momentous.

It was humbling.

Brangäne und (Tristan und) Isolde

Review – Tristan und Isolde (BBC Prom, Saturday 27 July 2013)

Tristan – Robert Dean Smith
Isolde – Violea Urmana
Brangäne – Mihoko Fujimura
Kurwenal – Boaz Daniel
King Mark – Kwangchui Youn
Melot – David Wilson-Johnson
Steersman – Edward Price
Shepherd/Young Sailor – Andrew Staples

Cor Anglais – Alison Teale

BBC Symphony Chorus
BBC Symphony Orchestra

Semyon Bychov (Conductor)

Personally it was an odd choice for Roger Wright to programme Tristan und Isolde smack bang in the middle of Barenboim’s magnificent Ring cycle at the Proms. With Das Rheingold, Die Walküre and Siegfried still fresh in the audience’s mind – unkindly or not – comparisons would have been made.

For the most part favourably I would imagine.

It also struck me – attending the Berlin Ring and last night’s performance – how many Prom debuts were being made as a result of the Wagner bicentenary. I just hope that the BBC – with its newfound commitment to ‘culture’ – doesn’t wait another two hundred years.

The beauty of the Proms is that they sometimes reveal to the UK audience a number of previously unknown remarkable performers.

Ultimately I think that this Tristan und Isolde will be remembered for the stand-out and utterly compelling performance of Mihoko Fujimura.

Her Brangäne even surpassed her mistress Isolde with an absolutely stunning performance. Ms Fujimura’s mezzo was both bright and warm with a depth and richness that was missing from her colleagues.

Ms Fujimura gave an impassioned, vocally secure and musically intelligent performance the likes I have not seen since Sofie von Otter for Peter Sellars or Sarah Connolly for Jurowski.

And the singer ensured that her Brangäne was no cipher. Her horror in the First Act was palpable and her interjections in the Second Act nothing short of mesmerizing. Even her final short interjections in the final act were wonderfully accomplished.

It is not surprising that Ms Fujimura was the recipient of the loudest cheer and applause of the evening. So why do we not see more of this mezzo-soprano in the UK?

Sadly Peter Seiffert cancelled as Tristan and was replaced by Robert Dean Smith. I have mixed feelings about this tenor. Having seen him previously successfully negotiating the the Emperor in Die Frau ohne Schatten and a splendid Bachhus in Ariadne auf Naxos, his Tannhauser disappointed – it was strained and one dimensional.

And sadly his Tristan was very much the same.

Even having drunk the love potion, this Tristan was emotionally flat and vocally disappointing. The strain of singing this role is most telling as Robert Dean Smith heads towards the end of a phrase – the tone tightens and more often than not the last note is clipped or snatched.

There was some fine singing – especially the opening of the exquisite O sink hernieder Nacht der Liebe – but it was rather a Tristan of individual moments, not a sustained performance. At times he resorted to barking above the orchestra – and pace Maestro Bychov, you weren’t always the most sympathetic conductor to you singers – and at points of the vital Third Act monologue completely lost. As a result the dramatic impetus of this marvelous scene was mostly lost on me.

But most distracting was the ever increasing ‘beat’ in his voice that became evident in the Second Act, undermining to an extent the duet.

Again it could be that the venue isn’t doing the singers any favours, but when the vast majority of other singers are managing and in fact overcoming similar challenges, that can only form part of the problem.

Violeta Urmana was by contrast an emotionally intense and vocally formidable Isolde. Her voice may adopt a slightly harsh and brittle tone at the top of her register but she uses it to her advantage. It was thrilling in the curse scene and her confrontation with Tristan in the First Act for example but in the Second Act love scene an added warmth infused her voice. And the Liebestod was both beautiful and dramatic. Rising above the orchestra, Ms Urmana powered up to the inevitable climax but then didn’t fail to float those final few notes perfectly.

Of the rest of the cast Andrew Staples, as the Young Sailor high above our heads after the opening was clear and bright. The remaining singers were passable without being notable. Kwangchui Youn was a solid King Mark – the notes were there if nothing else.

The gentlemen of BBC Symphony Chorus were in fine voice and the Orchestra found that balance between the sensuality and swagger of Wagner’s music. The opening of the Prelude and the final act were beautifully wrought and the fevered intensity of the opening of the second act was both articulate and transparent.

And extra special kudos for the eloquent and haunting playing of Alison Teale. Simply beautiful.

Semyon Bychov himself was a conductor of two extremes with – surprisingly – very little in between. Her drew some excellent playing from the orchestra – as I have mentioned the sensuality was there as were the crowning moments – but there was little of the ebb and flow that Tristan und Isolde should have and some of the tempos – in the duet and final Liebestod for example – felt slightly hurried. And at times the orchestra simply overwhelmed the singers.

It cannot be denied that by the end of the performance this Tristan und Isolde was ‘Proms perfect’ in that sense of a star revealed.

The audience got to hear and revel in the beautiful voice and memorable Brangäne of Ms Mihoko Fujimura.

Pseudo Siegfried

Review – Siegfried (BBC Prom, Friday 26 July 2013)

Siegfried – Lance Ryan
Brünnhilde – Nina Stemme
Wanderer – Terje Stensvold
Mime – Peter Bronder
Alberich – Johannes Martin Kränzle
Fafner – Eric Halfvarson
Woodbird – Rinnat Moriah
Erda – Anna Larsson

Staatskapelle Berlin
Daniel Barenboim (Conductor)

I suppose if I had paid attention at school, the law of statistics – or was it probability – would have told me that things cannot remain constant.

After an excellent Das Rheingold and a white hot Die Walküre that something had to give. It was also interesting to note that after the crush of the first two operas, there were noticeably a few empty seats. Personally I struggle with Siegfried at the best of times and it’s good to know that perhaps I am not alone.

That something was Siegfried. Literally.

That is not to say that Lance Ryan wasn’t a competent and in some parts, a formidable Siegfried – and perhaps it was the unforgiving acoustic of the Royal Albert Hall at times – but it wasn’t a consistent Siegfried.

He clearly has the vocal range for the role and there were moments in the Second and Third Act where he sang with both great authority and eloquence. Daß der mein Vater nicht ist was beautifully delivered as was his monologue before the appearance of Brünnhilde. And dramatically there were some telling moments – for example his confrontation with the Wanderer. But in the First Act and the final duet with Nina Stemme it wasn’t so much the strain of singing above the orchestra as the lack of heft and in some places – the Forging Song –it was very noticeable. Indeed there were times when Ryan didn’t seem able to follow what Barenboim was clearly seeking from him.

I am in sure in an opera house, with the orchestra in the pit, Ryan’s Siegfried is the whole package, but while in South Kensington it was both compelling and well acted, vocally it lacked that vital sheen and depth.

And just a note here on the acting. It faltered in Das Rheingold but in both Die Walküre and Siegfried the singers have literally inhabited the stage.

Barenboim drew some wonderful singing from the rest of the cast. The Mime of Peter Bronder might have fared better with stronger vocal characterisation and there were moments when I almost felt like he was shouting to be heard, but both Johannes Martin Kränzle as Alberich and the Fafner of Eric Halfvarson continued their strong performances from the opening opera of the quartet. Similarly, Terje Stensvold’s Wanderer was incredibly strong – both vocally and dramatically. His performance oozed a real sense of experience.

Anna Larsson returned as Erda sans the excessive vibrato of Das Rheingold and delivered the Earth Goddess with deep and velvety authority and the Woodbird of Rinnat Moriah was a delight. Perched at the top of the hall, her bright soprano literally shone and floated and whereas it is quite commons for the Woodbird to sound rushed, Barenboim indeed expertly made it all sound fluid, relaxed and birdlike without halting or slowly the tempo.

And Nina Stemme continued to enthrall the audience and delivered an incredibly strong, vocally secure and impressive Brünnhilde in the final act. She commands the stage as ever from her first appearance. It has been a long time since I have heard the Siegfried Brünnhilde sung with such a range of emotion and colour.

As ever Barenboim drew some incredible playing from the Staatskapelle Berlin. I have never heard the horn solo – or any of the instrumental solos in Siegfried – played with such aplomb and beauty. The brass were particularly impressive and I have never heard any performance where the players and conductor have created so many different colours and hues. The opening, so expertly controlled by Barenboim in terms of dynamics and tempo was chilling but it was the playing in the final scenes – Barenboim almost up from the podium to exhort the brass to ever greater brilliance – that was simply astounding.

The combination of Barenboim, the Staatskapelle and a cast including Stemme, Waltraud Meier and Mikhail Petrenko promises an incredible end to the cycle on Sunday with Götterdämmerung.

O hehrstes Wunder!

Review – Die Walküre (BBC Prom – Tuesday 23 July 2013)

Wotan – Bryn Terfel
Brünnhilde – Nina Stemme
Siegmund – Simon O’Neill
Sieglinde – Anja Kampe
Hunding – Eric Halfvarson
Fricka – Ekaterina Gubanova
Gerhilde – Sonja Mühleck soprano
Ortlinde – Carola Höhn
Waltraute – Ivonne Fuchs
Schwertleite – Anaïk Morel
Helmwige – Susan Foster
Siegrune – Leann Sandel-Pantaleo
Grimgerde – Anna Lapkovskaja
Rossweisse – Simone Schröder

Staatskapelle Berlin
Daniel Barenboim (Conductor)

Sieglinde’s O hehrstes Wunder said it all.

On the strength of the first two performances and if the BBC is smart it will find a way to issue this Prom Ring cycle on CD or download.

Clearly Das Rheingold was simply the warm-up because on the second night of the BBC Proms’ first ever complete Ring cycle, Daniel Barenboim, a second-to-none cast and the Staatskapelle Berlin delivered a Die Walküre of such intensity that I haven’t personally experienced either on stage or in concert performance.

The quality of the performances, the playing and the acting on that limited stage all came together in a perfect moment.

It brought back memories of that night in 2005 and a single, isolated performance of Die Walküre. However the emotional intensity of the Berliners performance exceeded even the emotional temperature of that evening.

And Bryn Terfel sung in both. I will admit, I have never truly been convinced by his Wotan – until last night.

Having also seen him at Covent Garden and the Metropolitan I have always felt that there was that final ‘something’ missing. Not so of his Wotan on the stage of the Royal Albert Hall. Perhaps it was because he was stripped bare of the distractions of a stage setting that his performance was incredible. Vocally he chartered the descent of Wotan from arrogant God to loving and distraught father. Every phrase was thought through and convincingly delivered – the words always clear, his voice marvelously shaded, the phrasing beautifully shaped, his singing always incredibly expressive. His was a Wotan worth reckoning with – from his incredible scene with Fricka to his final showdown and heartrending breakdown. His Leb wohl was both majestic and human.

As his wife, Ekaterina Gubanova continued her tour de force as Fricka. And my God from her first appearance, as she slinked down the stairs, she sounded and looked the part. I have yet to finish my review of Gergiev’s recording of this opera simply because I struggle to get beyond listening to the second act with Ms Gubanova. And here she displayed the same high level of musicianship, that beautifully rich and almost muscular mezzo that perfectly conveys the haughty grandeur required of Fricka. Throughout the scene this was a Fricka in control – not completely the woman still hopefully in love of Stephanie Blythe – but a Goddess. Yet, right at the end, once she had extracted the necessary promise from Wotan, there was a sudden and unexpected sign that this was a Fricka who still loved her husband as he sat broken.

At the opposite end of the emotional spectrum was Anja Kampe’s incredible performance Sieglinde. From the vulnerability of her opening scene with Simon O’Neill’s Siegmund and their burgeoning love, her distress in the Second Act to her final exultant and ringing O hehrstes Wunder, Kampe displayed a vocal authority that has definitely grown since I first saw her in this role. Her voice was strong and even throughout its range and again the colours she injected into her singing was tingling.

Opposite Sieglinde, Simon O’Neill was a credible and vocally secure Siegmund. I wonted for more drama in his characterization and perhaps at times greater depth to his singing but there was no denying his commitment in the role.

Hunding as bully was brilliantly portrayed by the deep and brutal singing of Eric Halfvarson. But his was no cipher in performance. Above the brutish and threatening vocal stance he adopted – and led by Barenboim – Halfvarson also uncovered the oft missed – and in many ways – more threatening ability to find those moments in Hunding’s music to sneer and patronise.

And Nina Stemme as Brünnhilde? Personally there aren’t sufficient superlatives.

Unlike in San Francisco, where she was head and shoulders above her colleagues, here Ms Stemme was equally matched by the rest of the cast and it strengthened and enriched her performance. Vocally secure throughout her Brünnhilde was simply stunning and spot on. Her eloquence in the role was simply mesmerising. She made you hear and feel everything – from Brünnhilde’s initial bravado as Wotan’s favourite to the wonder and awe as she witnessed true love to the anguish and fear of defying of father.

There simply isn’t a Brünnhilde like her today.

Even the Walküre – sometimes a hit and miss affair of competitive singing – were marshalled and made a thrilling ensemble. Vocally secure, each had a sufficiently identifiable vocal timbre that made them individuals as well.

So to Barenboim and the Staatskapelle Berlin.

Simply genius.

Barenboim – conducting the first act without glancing at the score – seemed more involved than his measured conducting of Das Rheingold. Clearly this is an opera he loves dearly and it showed in his gestures to the orchestra. Never was this more noticeable than when he was driving the orchestra towards the final bars of each of the three acts. Or when he was exhorting the excellent brass section to greater – if it was possible – grandeur in their playing. Or threat and menace generated at the very beginning, when his physical gestures that had the strings digging deep from the beginning. Or when he motioned to the singers at critical moments in the drama.

And the Staatskapelle responded with deeply committed and passionate playing. Focused, attentive and engrossed in the music, each and every player was part of the drama that Barenboim unfolded on the stage.

I did not see the ‘altercation’ at the end of the Second Act but if performance is sometimes about artistic difference then it worked because I do believe that the playing in the final act even managed to surpass that of the preceding acts.

After a brilliant Das Rheingold, it was impossible to think that the ensemble could raise the bar with Die Walküre. But they did.

It makes the expectation of the Siegfried to come almost unbearable.