Wagner - Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (Bayreuth, 2025)

Richard Wagner - Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2025

Daniele Gatti, Matthias Davids, Georg Zeppenfeld, Michael Spyres, Matthias Stier, Christina Nilsson, Christa Mayer, Michael Nagy, Jongmin Park, Martin Koch, Werner Van Mechelen, Jordan Shanahan, Daniel Jenz, Matthew Newlin, Gideon Poppe, Alexander Grassauer, Tijl Faveyts, Patrick Zielke, Tobias Kehrer

BR-Klassik Livestream - 25th July 2025

Matthias Davids' production doesn't look like any other production of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg you might have seen. We expect that at Bayreuth of course, but we are definitely far removed these days from the more adventurous Meistersingers of Bayreuth in the recent past. Katharina Wagner's own controversial 2008 production was keen to genuinely tear down any familiar ground and truly put the work of German Art to the test just as Hans Sachs advocates, while last production by Barrie Kosky in 2017 had great fun turning the work inside out and putting Wagner on trial for antisemitism. Both were very much testing of Wagner's greatest expression of the power of art, the freedom of the artist and the artist as a revolutionary, as much in their conception as their adherence to the underlying intent of the work. Davids' view on Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg to see it as a paean to peace, love and understanding is not unreasonable and perhaps reflects our needs and desires in these troubled times, but it is a rather more limiting viewpoint on a work that contains so much more.

Better known as a director of musicals, Matthias Davids' lighter approach places emphasis on making the work look bright, colourful and comic. Those aren't characteristics that one typically associates with Wagner but Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg is very much the exception to the typical Wagner music drama with its heavy emphasis on mythology. It's ambitiously expansive in its warmth, its humour, its insightfulness on a wider range of human experience and is more generously optimistic in its outlook. That's a lot to take in and consider, but it would be a mistake to emphasise the comedy and the romance to the exclusion of the opera's undercurrents of melancholy towards change and ...well, threats from 'outside'. I don't think Davids ignores this as much chooses to focus on the colour and setting and let Wagner's music fill in the rest. Wagner's miraculous music is more than capable of providing that with Daniele Gatti in the pit and a strong cast assembled for this production, but the production design and stage choreography does feel like a bit of a mess and distract from engaging with any deeper meaning in the work.

The best thing I can say about the first Act of the new Bayreuth Meistersinger is that it lays out the original premise of the opera clearly. It's not without a distinctive look and feel of its own with its long staircase up to St Catherine's Church in Nuremberg for the opening scene, the set revolving to a kind of lecture theatre setting for the marking of Walther von Stolzing’s first efforts at becoming a mastersinger. The street scenes for Act II look bewilderingly 'normal' as well, or not so much normal as picture book Nuremberg, an idealised non-period specific operatic setting the looks to tradition but modernises it to look bright and colourful. The buildings all look like the Keramikhäuser you find in German Christmas markets, or since this has a wooden appearance, more like a Christmas manger scene which kind of jars, in my mind anyway, with this being Midsummer's Eve.

The first half of Act II however is at least beautifully played, much more sensitively performed than Act I, but probably only because Wagner scored it with great warmth, nostalgia and human insight. Not so much in the acting, which is all broad gestures turning into slapstick inevitably by the end of the second Act. The director really hasn't got a handle on the nature of the people and the relationships between them as Wagner depicts them, or at least I never felt like these were real people with inner lives. It feels superficial, but Wagner's music soars under Daniele Gatti and has real heart and emotion behind it. It's not enough to carry the latter part of this act, and Beckmesser's wooing of Lena just feels agonising. It's surely impossible for this scene to be anything less than entertaining, but here it just drags with a lack of any kind of imagination or insight. The closing choral scene is chaotic, as it is supposed to be, but really shouldn't be this much of a mess.

Hans Sachs' workshop at the start of Act III brings a welcome change of tone; the spare set, the simplicity of the widower's home a wooden low wall circle, the loneliness of it all working with the melancholic tone. Georg Zeppenfeld can do deep melancholy well (not so great with humour), but his gestures remain broad. He is perhaps not everyone's ideal Hans Sachs, but his singing nonetheless carries the beauty and intent of this role in this scene. For me, these scenes with Eva and with Walther are the heart and soul of the work: they are filled with meaning, with the experience of life, looking back and looking forward and trying to come to terms with it all. Musically it's a marvel, the crowning achievement of Wagner's longstanding efforts to capture the essence of the German spirit through art, mythology and storytelling, but here without the usual grandiosity. He even quotes Tristan und Isolde (composed during the writing of Meistersinger), but instead of the despair of King Marke, Wagner's Sachs is inspired by or comforted by the optimism of youth and the new spirit of love in Stolzing, Eva, David and Lena. These scenes are beautiful and the best part of this new production at Bayreuth, as it ties in well with the director's approach and vision for the opera as a whole.

Of course it's nothing without the quality of the Prize song to prove it, and Michael Spyres brings out the full beauty of his Liebestraum. If Zeppenfeld's reactions of amazement and wonder at the knight's performance look a little exaggerated, you can nonetheless well understand it when you hear Spyres sing it like this. Although the poetry strikes me as rather flowery - literally - it still casts a spell of enchantment that is irresistible. It has to be believed that this song is near miraculous and Wagner composed it to have just that impact, more beautiful here in its moment of spontaneous creation than in the unnecessary spectacle of the final act performance - which of course Walther tries his best to reject. It can be just as wonderful at the conclusion, but it's not here and it's not because Walther and Eva do actually reject the nationalistic sentiments expressed by Sachs, but there are other issues with the staging of the scene that undermine it somewhat. Thankfully we have this 'demo' version before it becomes 'overproduced'.

The final scene suits the occasion to an extent, even if it is not particularly tasteful. The scene is set for a song contest in the style of Search for a Star, a regional Nuremberg heat of 'Germany’s Got Talent' or whatever the latest TV show incarnation of X-Factor is currently popular. It is indeed a popular scene involving the whole community so it is not inappropriate, even with a huge colourful inflatable cow canopy and bales of hay. Within that the concluding scenes plays out in a fine if unexceptional manner and it's interesting that the decision to reject being the new idol of holy German Art is instigated or supported by Eva who whisks Walther off to seek live the lives they want to live.

For all my misgivings about the production, the scene was a moving one and, aside from the mixed response to the production team at the curtain call, the premiere performance of the new production appears to have been appreciated by the Bayreuth audience. I can't say it doesn't meet the intent of the work and do it justice, just that it felt unadventurous in not really interrogating the work, meaning we had some very dull passages, particularly in the first Act.

Lifeless scenes in the first half aside, musically and in terms of the singing performances this was indeed a very enjoyable production that took on a momentum of its own and made this just about a worthwhile experience. Aside from the capable performance of Georg Zeppenfeld and Michael Spyres' wonderfully sung Walter von Stolzing, the other performances all had much to admire. Michael Nagy sang well as Beckmesser, but deserved better than the role being reduced to little more than a sidekick for comic slapstick. Christina Nilsson's role debut as Eva was excellent. If she seemed occasionally overawed, that could also be attributed to her character's position in the work. She led the quintet in Act III beautifully. Matthias Stier made a strong impression as David and the reliable Christa Mayer was a fine Magdalena. Jongmin Park was a steadfast Pogner, and indeed all the Mastersinger roles (in their tea cosy helmets) were well defined and sung. The lightness of touch and warmth that Matthias Davids was aiming to achieve was certainly there in Daniele Gatti's conducting of the warm, luscious score, but somehow it never seemed to gel with any sense of genuine warmth and humanity reflected on the stage.

External links: BR-Klassik, Bayreuther Festspiele

Wagner - Lohengrin (Vienna, 2024)

Richard Wagner - Lohengrin

Wiener Staatsoper, 2024

Christian Thielemann, Jossi Wieler, Sergio Morabito, Georg Zeppenfeld, David Butt Philip, Malin Byström, Martin Gantner, Anja Kampe, Attila Mokus, Juraj Kuchar, Daniel Lökös, Johannes Gisser, Jens Musger

Wiener Staatsoper Live Stream - 5th May 2024

Any work grounded in mythology can be used - and in the case of Richard Wagner's Lohengrin during the Hitler years abused - to have its meaning twisted. Whatever Wagner's original intentions for the work might have been, its nationalist expressions aligned to the will of god can be inherently problematic in the context of history and to present day viewpoints. Most contemporary stage directors will challenge this in some way - the most directly confrontational I've seen in recent years being the Olivier Py one - or prefer to take an abstract distanced approach. I think the latest production directed by Jossi Wieler and Sergio Morabito for the Vienna State opera is however the first that I've seen to attempt to subvert the traditional divisions in the work between good and evil. To be fair, it's more likely that the directors might be looking for a little more nuance to that position than is usually found in productions of Lohengrin, but that can often just end up muddying the waters.

Wieler and Morabito initially approach this then as something of a crime thriller. During the Vorspiel Elsa is seen disguised in boys' clothes, skulking around in a guilty manner, unaware that she is being observed in a courtyard by Ortrud from what appears to be the rampart of a castle. When she is challenged then about the disappearance of her brother, the successor to the line of Duke of Brabant, she displays none of the usual fear or cowering before the charges of fratricide levelled against her. This Elsa is confident of her position, wholly certain that her story of a knight in shining armour will be believed by the credulous population. She is not some helpless young woman being judged by society and the king, but seems to be the instigator and in control of the events.

The proposal in this production seems to be put that Elsa did indeed murder her own brother, throwing him into the lake - or attempt to murder him, since at the conclusion here, he reappears pulled out of the water. The motive for her action is perhaps not so straightforward. There may be an element of wanting to strike back against a very clearly patriarchal society that is against her from the outset, that will overlook any claim to title in favour of her younger brother simply because she is a woman. Perhaps she also wants to pin the blame for her actions and justify them as a way of rejecting a marriage to the scheming Friedrich von Telramund and expose him as someone interested only in using her - and accusing her - for his own gain.

When the hero appears to defend her, it does seem as if he is conjured by her suggestion, appearing here - in contrast to much of the period setting - in the traditional garb of a knight, complete with chainmail, armour and sword. Not only that, but his 'divinity' is suggested also by his Jesus-like appearance, with short beard and long hair in wavy curls. Whether real or merely a fantasy image that the King and the people of Brabant are willing to believe in, Lohengin's heroism isn't really put to the test as the mere effort of lifting a sword seems to place such a strain on Telramund that he appears to have a heart attack. "Du hast wohl nie das Glück besessen, das sich uns nur durch Glauben gibt?" Have you never known the happiness that is given to us by faith alone?

Whether asking us to accept this reading of Lohengrin as credible or a bit of a stretch, you have to consider any rational explanation of the myth as having a few holes or at least an ancient kind of admiration for chivalry and mysticism that is hard to reconcile with our times. How else can we accept Lohengrin’s demand that Elsa adhere to an unreasonable order not to know or even ask who he is? What is that but keeping a woman in her place and not questioning her man? That seems at least to be the premise or the perceived flaws that the directors pit themselves against in this production, like many others, not so much challenging it as perhaps finding a way to work with a work that remains problematic for many reasons, yet is still deserving of exploration.

It seems then that the intention is not to rationalise it nor indeed resort to undermining it. The measure of that is that this is not purely taking the feminist viewpoint, since it also paints Elsa as a murderer, a fantasist and a manipulator. Nor does it subvert the view by portraying Elsa as evil and Ortrud and Telramund as in some way good. It's not as simple as that. In a discussion about the intentions for the production Sergio Morabito refers to the Lars von Trier film Dancer in the Dark, and - without the production trying in any way to replicate the techniques used in the film - it's a good reference point for an oppressed and abused young woman's imagination lifting her out of the very serious situation she faces. It also establishes a more critical modern take on a fairy tale. 

Anna Viebrock's sets and production design settles consequently for some intermediate non-specific period, the fantasy castle ramparts of Act I looking more like a overpass of a road and a underpass entrance with graffiti on the wall by the time we arrive at Act II. There is obviously a militaristic setting that is crucial to the work, the army uniforms here similar to French soldiers in the trenches of the first World War, the women mostly in nurses uniforms. This aspect can't be avoided or overlooked, as there are other implications that you can draw from this particular opera and its legacy about a nation willing to go to war under the influence of mass suggestion, and this production seems to address that. Of course that means that Friedrich and Ortrud see through the willing delusion of Elsa and the German people of Brabant, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they are good and Elsa bad, just that they have their own agenda to push.

Tying this all together in a way that is coherent is a challenge that is not made any easier by trying to impose or suggest other readings or offer an alternative view of the work. The ending here does leave you with much to consider, and I'm not sure I grasped the implications of Elsa's brother, who may have been the inspiration for the mystical knight who bedazzles the people, dragging himself out of the river or canal at the conclusion to strike down Elsa, foiling in the process Ortrud's efforts to gain influence. Or something. Whatever it was it made for a powerful conclusion that matched the force and romanticism of Wagner's score.

Dramatically interesting and very well stage-choreographed, the fact that this has impact is also undoubtedly down to fine performances from Malin Byström as Elsa and David Butt Philip as Lohengrin, and another outstanding performance from Georg Zeppenfeld as Heinrich. His control, enunciation and characterisation is as close to perfect as you could hope. You'd think you might like occasionally hear someone else sing the role, but why settle for second best? The same goes for Friedrich von Telramund, where there are few better than Martin Gantner. Anja Kampe cuts a fine Ortrud even if it requires some effort on her part to hit the higher notes. She finds a good position to maintain between the opera's view of her as some kind of witch and a woman seeking to assert control within a male dominated and oriented society. Musically, as you would expect, it's a very fine performance from the Vienna orchestra under Christian Thielemann, the soaring full orchestral and choral elements utterly enrapturing.

External links: Vienna State Opera, Wiener Staatsoper live streaming

Wagner - Parsifal (Bayreuth, 2023)

Richard Wagner - Parsifal

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2023

Pablo Heras-Casado, Jay Scheib, Andreas Schager, Derek Welton, Georg Zeppenfeld, Elīna Garanča, Jordan Shanahan, Tobias Kehrer, Siyabonga Maqungo, Jens-Erik Aasbø, Betsy Horne, Margaret Plummer, Jorge Rodríguez-Norton, Garrie Davislim, Evelin Novak, Camille Schnoor, Julia Grüter, Marie Henriette Reinhold

BR-Klassik livestream - 25th July 2023

There is obviously more than one way to view an opera, particularly so in a work as rich, abstract and enigmatic as Parsifal, but this year's new production by American director Jay Scheib for the 2023 Bayreuther Festspiele actually went as far as delivering a production where the audience watching it could see two different productions playing out at the same time. The was achieved by 'augmented reality', allowing a small proportion of the audience (330 of the almost 2,000 capacity) to see enhanced elements while the majority got the plain vanilla version. As if there could be anything 'vanilla' about Parsifal. While I can't say much about the enhanced version - having watched the non-augmented reality version (or simply 'reality' as most people know it) via a livestream, I have doubts that it could offer anything more than the regular version. And even if that wasn't particularly revelatory, this Parsifal had a few interesting ideas and some fine musical and singing performances.

It's just my opinion of course, but no Wagner opera should be exempt from the kind of restless experimentation, updating, reworking, rethinking, modernisation, whatever you want to call it that Bayreuth often exercises in their stage productions of his works. Some works appear to be more suited to this than others, some are just incoherently thought out, but often they do succeed in inspiring new ways of considering some of the greatest works of opera. Parsifal has less surface narrative than most and is often interpreted in a wide variety of ways, but there are nonetheless deep important spiritual intentions in the work that should not be neglected. But if you can find other ways to tap into this, why not try?

Wagner's music score is more than capable of withstanding any conceptual conceit a stage director throws at it, and it can be just as intriguing hearing what the individual interpretation a conductor can bring to the pace, delivery and detail of the score. If you have that and when you have a good cast, you know the work has everything it needs, and anything else that the stage director decides to focus on is a bonus that you can choose to consider or not. As far as the new Bayreuth production is concerned, the musical under Pablo Heras-Casado is. I've liked others better, but that's just personal preference and as long as the purpose of the music and its relation to the underlying sentiments, philosophy, mood and drama is maintained - which it is here - then that's the basic minimum you can expect. The singing is essential also - you simply can't do Parsifal without strong experienced voices - and looking at the cast here for the roles of Gurnemanz, Parsifal and the Kundry here, there are no worries on that account, but it's supported also by fine performances in the roles of Amfortas, Klingsor, and Titurel. There can be few complaints, if any, on that score.

The deeper message of Parsifal lies in the musical expression, and perhaps even more in the responsiveness of the listener, all of which are more expressive than the relative and deceptive simplicity of the plot outline, which you would think would not allow for any great variance - although many directors have managed to successfully find other creative ways to relate to the underlying tone of the work. One can glance through past reviews here just to see how varied interpretations can be. This long preamble might suggest that I don't have a lot to say about this specific production that I haven't said before and which hasn't been expressed better in other productions - including of course Stefan Herheim's Parsifal at Bayreuth, which I have yet to say anything about - and to some extent it's true that there is not a lot that was inspired about this new version (non-augmented reality version anyway), but it was still good enough to impress.

Leaving aside the augmented reality aspect, one way a director can choose to impose or highlight a certain crucial aspect of Parsifal or any opera work, is by the use of additional silent actors. While most of us don't see the visual overlays, we do see at least one 'invisible' figure, a kind of mirror image of Kundry, or simply 'woman'. Gurnemanz upon waking, or in his waking moments, is seen grappling in the embrace of an unknown woman during the prelude. She appears to be a holy woman, judging from the image of a saint or holy figure on the back of her shirt, or perhaps just appears that way to the devout Gurnemanz. She remains in the background in Act I, tending to the unhealing wound of Amfortas and appears elsewhere throughout the work. Is she a mirror image or expansion of Kundry? In a work where the presence of woman outside of Kundry barely makes an impression other than to lead good righteous men into ruin, Kundry's expansive presence can be extended in a work where compassion is important.

And yet, although many other productions make a powerful Kundry central to the whole ethos and philosophy of the work, that aspect is not emphasised as much, or seemingly as central to the other significant spin that the director places on the work, which is in how the Grail and the worship of the Grail is depicted here. The Grail is shown as a large purple-blue crystal, but more than its physical presence, what it important is how it is depicted as something painful, an adherence to old traditions (and religions?), that need to be cast off for mankind to be free from the weight of the past in order to achieve transcendence. This is hinted at in the second Act, where there is a connection established between the Grail and the cavern where Klingsor resides, which is the same shape and colour as the crystal in Act I. This is taken through to Act III which goes as far as Parsifal destroying the 'grail', the crystal thrown to the ground and shattering into pieces.

Although pain and suffering has always been an essential part of Parsifal, the path to enlightenment being essentially a painful journey, it's a significant departure nonetheless to actually destroy the Grail at the conclusion. Yet somehow this doesn't really achieve the redemptive quality of the work that you expect, but there is clearly an effort made to tie it in with the transformative impact that all the principal figures - and even secondary ones - undergo. Personally, while the set design is at least wholly sympathetic to the work, I think the fine singing is key to bringing this together as successfully as it does. Act I at least has all the beauty, agony and magnificence you could hope for and expect, laying the seeds for what it proposed in the subsequent acts. The set is open and spacious, simple and abstract - a pool, a platform/bed/coffin, a high steel pillar and a circle of light that rises to fill the stage with light during the transubstantiation offering (this one very reminiscent of a Catholic mass communion processional), but it's Amfortas's pain and the performance of it from Derek Welton that hits the mark.

Act II is much more exotically coloured and lit than is usual for the garden of the flower-maidens, appearing genuinely enchanted (and I imagine even more so in the AR version) but again, what really brings it to life is the singing. The struggle between Klingsor and Kundry as he exerts his power over her is excellent, mainly on account of the performances and singing of Jordan Shanahan as Klingsor and Elīna Garanča as Kundry. Andreas Schager has a key role to play as Parsifal of course, and does so with characeristic intensity in this act. Building on the view of the Grail that this production takes, poor Sir Ferris exists as here as a blood splattered dummy in the background while Kundry attempts her seduction of Parsifal. Parsifal is moved to rip out his heart out and compare it to a stone, as he reflects on his failing to recognise what has prevented him from understanding Amfortas/The Saviour's suffering for our sins and begin the search for redemption. Schager makes it feel real and is matched by Garanca's expression of Kundry's torment. It's hard not to be won over, even if there is little that is new expressed here.

I can't say I've ever seen a production of Parsifal that matches the description stage directions for Act III as "A pleasant, open spring landscape with a background of gently rising flowery meadows". More often it looks more like a post-apocalyptic landscape. Here indeed the stage is dominated by some monstrous looking rock crushing truck that houses Gurnemanz, and by a crater in the centre of the stage that doesn't look much like a holy spring. The rock crushing extends then to Parsifal's destruction of crystal, ending the worship of the Grail and the ways of the past. This is also the idea emblazoned on the back of the shirts of Kundry and Parsifal, the former saying 'Forget Me', the latter 'Remember Me', the two of them united in the holy spring. Even Gurnemanz embraces his shadow Kundry. It would seem to have little to do with Wagner's idea of redemption, but it is impossible nonetheless not to be moved by the extraordinary beauty and majesty of this work and what it achieves across four hours.

That at least is supported by truly impressive singing performances and an outstanding chorus. Georg Zeppenfeld is his usual solid impressive Gurnemanz, with grave, clear intonation and authority. Andreas Schager sings with such intensity that he inevitably show a little bit of strain. Elīna Garanča makes her debut appearance at Bayreuth, but I've seen her sing the role of Kundry in an ambitious production of Parsifal at Vienna in 2021 (which interestingly doubled the role of Parsifal as they do with Kundry here). She is even more impressive here and takes the curtain call at the premiere of this new production to deservedly thunderous applause. Pablo Heras-Casado is warmly received for a consistent measured performance dramatically attuned to the stage, that nonetheless (although limited to the sound mix on the livestream) I thought sounded a little lacking in detail in places. There was inevitably a mixed reception for the production team, the louder boos trying to drown out what sounded in the main like welcome applause.

This was not a great production though. Depending on your view it fails to make the essential point of the work or you could think that it finds its own roundabout way around to it, but it has moments that are successful and it looks suitably impressive. Like many of the recent Bayreuth productions however it feels like a kind of halfway house between the extreme much-maligned but fascinating excesses of the last decade and a more traditional production that at least touches base with the original stage directions. The new developments like the use of AR here - which I've read about subsequently and it seems genuinely interesting if a little overdone (reminding me of an initial misguided and eventually rejected idea to do something similar in Robert Dornhelm's greenscreen experiments for his film version of La Bohème way back in 2006) - are welcome, showing a willingness to still trying to extend the word, the music, the significance and the legacy of Wagner into the future while at the same time trying not to lose the traditional unadventurous audience who expect something more respectful or reverential.

External links: Bayreuther Festspiele, BR-Klassik

Wagner - Der fliegende Holländer (Bayreuth, 2021)

Richard Wagner - Der fliegende Holländer (Bayreuth, 2021)

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2021

Oksana Lyniv, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Georg Zeppenfeld, Asmik Grigorian, Eric Cutler, Marina Prudenskaya, Attilio Glaser, John Lundgren 

BR-Klassik streaming - 25th July 2021

Is it possible to basically undermine the original spirit and intention of a work and yet somehow get closer to a more universal truth? All great art is alive and constantly open to interpretation and speaks to each of us differently, and certainly in the world of modern productions of opera, that idea is often tested to the limit. Dmitri Tcherniakov certainly applies such standards, but so too do the current administration at Bayreuth. As bizarre as some of the spins are put on productions of his work however, Wagner only seems to come out the stronger for it. I'm not saying that Tcherniakov and Bayreuth brings any great new vision to this new 2021 production of Der fliegende Holländer, but Wagner's early working of his ideas for myth and opera certainly don't suffer from the experience of being brought a little more down to earth.

On the surface Tcherniakov's reworking of legend into reality is perhaps not as radical as his take on Der Freischütz at Munich earlier this year, but there is one major spin spelled out during the Vorspiel that does change the complexion of Der fliegende Holländer considerably. It becomes not a tale of tragic, romantic love and exile as a story of revenge, and perhaps madness. All myths of course have some basis in reality and the stories a human emotional dimension, so as presumptuous and misguided as it might seem, Tcherniakov elaborates a rationale for the Dutchman's fate.

During the Vorspiel we see the Dutchman as a child, witnessing and suffering the trauma of seeing his mother involved in an affair with a married man, subsequently ostracised from society and ending up taking her own life. The married man was Daland and, now an older man, Holländer comes back to the town to wreak his revenge on Daland by taking his daughter. It's not enough to just buy her, being far too easy to dazzle the avaricious man with money and jewels, but he needs to win and destroy the heart of his daughter in order to be satisfied that he has avenged his mother. The romantic myth of the Dutchman - which he himself elaborates to Daland's crew in Act I - is just a means to achieve that objective through the power of the story, the myth. So as a concept, it's not entirely detached from Wagner's own ideals and self-promotion.

One other fundamental difference that the director brings to his production of Der fliegende Holländer is that the sea does not feature at all. Nor ships and not even ports really. The opening scene seems to be a lads night out at the bar, taking advantage of the bad weather as an excuse to stay out drinking all night. The odd man at the other end of the bar however looks like trouble. The complete absence of the sea in this opera must be a first, and again it seems something of a deliberate pose. Since it's not really all that relevant to the underlying idea of the work - as much as the sea could be said to feature prominently in the music - the same story could be true of any small town where prejudice against strangers and foreigners exist, where small mindedness holds sway and refuses to recognise greatness, genius and originality. Again, not a million miles away from deeper themes that are consistent through Wagner's work.

In order to bring this tale to a suitable conclusion - one that doesn't rely on any high-flown romantic scenes of supernatural legend and mythology, Tcherniakov employs Mary to greater use than usual, casting her also as the mother of Senta. Although that means it's mostly a silent role outside of her traditional part as the leader of the spinning ladies in Act II, as Daland's apparently long-suffering wife, now witnessing his selling off of their daughter to a stranger, she ends the horror in a dramatic fashion at the conclusion of the opera. Senta's madness and delusion, brought about with what should have been a cautionary tale, comes crashing down to a state of shock as she understands what her mother has gone though.

If you haven't heard of Asmik Grigorian - and really there have been plenty of online and DVD opportunities in major productions to see what she can do - you will certainly hear more of that name after this production. She gives a phenomenal performance as Senta. Her reach and technical ability is outstanding, throwing herself physically into the role and soaring to those great heights of emotional outpouring. Her acting might be a bit overstated for some, but perhaps not, as Senta is by no means a rational person and is driven some kind of madness. Tcherniakov doesn't give her a background as he does the Dutchman, and it might have helped to understand more of her unhappy dysfunctional family background, but that is certainly hinted at, even in Wagner's depiction of Daland willing to sell her to a stranger, and in her unequal relationship with Erik.

Grigorian is undoubtedly the star of the night, but this is by no means a production that rides on one exceptional performance; the other singing performances are of an equally very high standard. Georg Zeppenfeld is as reliable as ever, currently untouchable in almost every Wagner bass role (and seems to be playing every Wagner bass role at Bayreuth). John Lundgren is superb as the dark, dangerous and menacing Dutchman with a real reason to bemoan and seek release from his fate. Eric Cutler is an Erik who makes a real impression and Marina Prudenskaya makes the most of the extended role for Mary.

There's no doubt however who the Bayreuth audience see as the hero and villain of this production and they make their feelings known quite loudly. Grigorian is subjected to a roar of approval, deservedly bringing the house down. The first female conductor at Bayreuth, Oksana Lyniv also met with widespread approval and it is indeed a fiery muscular performance of interval-less run-through version of the opera. Inevitably Tcherniakov divides the audience, accepts that many in the audience will not like what he does, but there is also cheering from those who appreciate his work here. If the production is alive and elicits such a reaction it has surely done something right, even if it doesn't align with preconceived ideas of what Holländer "ought" to be. Once again however, Wagner - even early Wagner - comes out the stronger for it, and isn't that how it ought to be?

Links: Bayreuther Festpiele, BR-Klassik

Wagner - Parsifal (Vienna, 2021)

Richard Wagner - Parsifal

Wiener Staatsoper, 2021

Philippe Jordan, Kirill Serebrennikov, Jonas Kaufmann, Georg Zeppenfeld, Elīna Garanča, Ludovic Tézier, Wolfgang Koch, Stefan Cerny, Ileana Tonca, Anna Nekhames, Aurora Marthens

ARTE Concert  - 18 April 2021

With its blend of philosophy, religion, mythology, spirituality and humanism, Wagner's Parsifal can be a tough prospect to make sense of on a narrative level, particularly in translating that to a modern audience in recognisable human terms. Not that it needs a coherent narrative. Almost every production I've seen of this masterpiece has found original endless (and sometimes baffling) ways of presenting it, while at the same time everything that it is about is all there in the music. And when I say music, it's not just the notes on the page, the singing or even the interpretation of it but the space and time it occupies in performance. The viewer enters into communion with Parsifal in a way that does not happen quite the same way with any other opera.

High-flown words maybe, but there is truth in this. You could write volumes exploring the work, you could write books alone on productions like Herheim's Bayreuth Parsifal, and yet however the work is dressed up, whatever means are used to explore its themes, it rarely fails to make some kind of impact and it's often a profound one. At heart the theme and message of the work can be said to be relatively simple, but in its simplicity it touches on something vast, the essence of an important aspect of what it means to be human, perhaps the most important. Redemption through Compassion, the understanding of which will put us on the path to our soul's salvation.

Even though there are clear religious and ceremonial overtones in the presentation of these themes in Parsifal's Easter Good Friday message, it certainly doesn't need to be seen through a Christian or religious perspective. Indeed such grave solemnity and reverence in a production can get in the way of letting the music express its deep human qualities. Not to make excuses for the sometimes unclear situations and direction in the current Vienna State Opera production by Kirill Serebrennikov, but even the idea of putting that into a coherent dramatic narrative is ridiculous. Anyone expecting or needing a "story" to get it across is missing the point. Richard Wagner utterly and completely puts it all into musical language, which is even more direct and yet complex in how it manages to achieve that with such incredible impact.

It's difficult to describe convincingly how the Vienna 2021 lockdown production manages to get that across - it would take a long time and a lot of pointless analysis - but it unquestionably does. Serebrennikov's setting certainly looks unlike anything else you might associate with Montsalvat. Here's it's a prison, looking more like Janáček's From The House of the Dead. Gurnemanz is the respected veteran lifer who takes young ones under his wing, shows them the ropes and even does tattoos for them. Unlike any other Gurnemanz, this one even collects packages of contraband drugs from bent wardens for them. He knows they need something else to get them through the misery of their situation, and tells them stories that give hope that some kind of redemption may be possible. Even those living in an eternal hell like the seriously ill Amfortas.

It seems unlikely that the new young man on the cell block is going to be any kind of saviour in this production. Young and foolish, he's forgotten his good upbringing and got into a lot of trouble. Not so innocent, in prison he has even killed a man, a "swan", an albino man with tattoo wings who tried to get close to him naked in the showers and paid the price. Someone however sees his potential; Kundry, a visitor who has been granted permission to photograph inside the prison, gathering images of raw masculinity for a fashion magazine, "Schloss". She however lives within a prison of her own and is seeking a way out, seeing something within this young man that might help her overcome her own demons if they don't swallow him up as well.

Aided by projections, the production plays the long first Act out as if it happens over a number of days, and that works well, in its own way bending time and space, encapsulating the inner world and dreams of the prisoners with the harsh reality of their confinement. The idea of being outside of time in any linear narrative is also put across in the use of flashback, Jonas Kaufmann the older wiser Parsifal looking back with regret on his past mistakes and innocence of his younger self, played by actor Nikolay Sidorenko. If you don't quite understand where it is going however that also turns out to be a good thing, as the whole opera is a process, you need to live through it and experience it in its totality to understand it in any kind of way.

Act II however proves to be pivotal here as it should be but far too often fails to adequately achieve. It opens up some of that in the unlikely setting of the offices of Schloss, a fashion magazine run by the tyrannical Klingsor. The Flowermaidens are fashion journalists, office staff and even cleaning staff, all lusting over the new cover model, which really is no less relatable than having mythical female ciphers float around him. What makes Act II striking is by bringing in what is only alluded to in the original and making it central to the purpose of the work, and that's Parsifal's mother Herzeleide.

Many productions have sought to extend the range of Parsifal far beyond the singing characters - Philipp Stölzl even recreating the crucifixion of Christ in a Deutsche Oper production - and with good reason, as much of what is learned as a process doesn't just extend over a lifetime, but over many lifetimes. The production here finds that the best way of expressing what sparks Parsifal's journey to self-realisation is the image that Kundry evokes of his mother. The director brings not just one but three Herzeleide's to the stage. Parsifal's first true feelings for another person are, appropriately and meaningfully, for his mother. Understanding what she has suffered for him only for him to go off the rails, is a profound revelation. Through this he suddenly realises what Amfortas has been going through, and sets out to find a way of bringing healing to his suffering.

And quite what role Kundry plays in this is also difficult to describe but it's vital, the Flowermaidens likewise presenting him with different aspects of what it means to be a woman, deepening his understanding of his own mother's situation. Somehow the director Serebrennikov - mainly though the medium of an astonishing performance from Elīna Garanča - manages to match up the sense of deep sorrow, regret and loss with a sultry undercurrent that runs through the music in this Act. Act II can often feel disjointed and unfathomable, but at its best it is enigmatic and the key to the work, and the new Vienna production makes the most of it, not least in Philippe Jordan's conducting, pacing and navigation of the dynamics of the score.

Trying to analyse and correlate the production with a predetermined idea of what Parsifal should be and even expecting it to deliver a coherent narrative is however besides the point. It's a metaphor, and it makes no more sense than expecting Wagner's mythology of the Knights of the Holy Grail, the suffering of Amfortas, the killing of a swan, the evil of Klingsor and the revelation in a kiss to make sense on any level of reality that is relatable to our lives. The best that a production can do is perhaps illuminate one aspect of the many themes and ideas expressed in the work and put it into terms that are recognisable to a modern audience. And if you can get across an important message - as this one does about imprisonment of the soul and finding a way to freedom - then it's more than enough. Anyone expecting to make narrative sense of the director's production however is only distracting themselves from the beauty of the sentiments expressed and the performances.

And what performances! It's not just a starry cast with a few experienced and distinguished Wagnerians in key roles, but there are some chances and risks taken in a few of the other casting choices that make it much more interesting and bring a little something extra to the production. Jonas Kaufmann sings the role of Parsifal well, if inevitably a little detached by being doubled with an actor. It's sung in the manner that you may be accustomed to, a manner not to everyone's taste, slightly over-pushed. He can do grave and anguished but personally I felt that he lacks sensitivity for Parsifal, and crucially lacks compassion for the role. Elsewhere however there is little to fault.

As we've come to expect from his other Wagner bass roles, Georg Zeppenfeld is just perfect. Hunding, Heinrich der Vogler and King Marke are one thing, but Gurnemanz is a much more extensive role on another level entirely. If the strain sometimes showed over the four hour running time, there was little evidence of it in his singing, which was faultless throughout, warm and compelling. As mentioned earlier, Elīna Garanča also takes her performance to another level. Kundry does present such opportunities for a singer, and even if this production didn't give her as much of a central role or room for interpretation, Garanča takes it to the level required in her singing and acting performance. I've never seen her sing a role so deeply.

Defining Klingsor as a sleazy office manager abuser of his position and power is more relatable than viewing him simplistically as an evil sorcerer, and Wolfgang Koch is suitably sinister in a typically reliable performance. Ludovic Tézier is one of the world's finest Verdi baritones and that doesn't necessarily translate over to a traditional Amfortas role in Wagner, but it certainly makes for an interesting interpretation. He carries some of the mannerisms of Italian opera across, but nonetheless gives a lyrical, sincere and heartfelt performance here. Avoiding the cliches of the spear healing the wound, he nonetheless finds peace as Parsifal's healing message of love, forgiveness and compassion sees the swan reborn and mankind freed from the pain and prison of their everyday existence to possibility of a better world.

Links: Wiener Staatsoper, ARTE Concert

Wagner - Lohengrin (Bayreuth, 2018)

Richard Wagner - Lohengrin

Bayreuth Festival, 2018

Christian Thielemann, Yuval Sharon, Georg Zeppenfeld, Piotr Beczala, Anja Harteros, Tomasz Konieczny, Waltraud Meier, Egils Silins

BR-Klassik - 25 July 2018

The premiere of Bayreuth's new production of Lohengrin for their 2018 festival tends to emphasise the colourful fairy-tale qualities of the work, but whether it gets to the mythological qualities that Wagner's opera aspires to is another matter. Whether the values the work puts forward have any meaning or application to the world we live in today is questionable in any case. Dresden's production would seem to think not, retaining the work's medieval legend setting, but Bayreuth usually take a much more adventurous analytical probing of Wagner's works for continued relevance and contemporary meaning, as the previous production by Hans Neuenfels demonstrated. With Lohengrin, there's always the tricky question of its legacy to consider, which Olivier Py's production for La Monnaie recently explored. The intentions of the latest Bayreuth production are a little more difficult to fathom.

Whether you take it at face value or probe deeper and more critically, Lohengrin however is inextricably related to the matter of German nationalism, Wagner seeking through mythology and legend to identify the characteristics that define the German people. Whether it's critical of certain unpleasant and dangerous aspects of that nature or laudatory and idealistic is questionable, but it's possible to see it both ways. Doing so of course risks polarising those aspects into broad definitions of 'good' and 'evil', and the fairy-tale setting does tend towards such a Manichean division at the cost of any finer nuance. There are certainly other elements that suggest other ways of looking at the work, but it has to be said that initially, the symbolism is confusing and difficult to pin down.

Part of the reason for this of course could be down to the fact that the set designers, the artist Neo Rauch and his wife Rosa Loy, worked independently on their conception of the work and then tried to integrate that with director Yuval Sharon's ideas. There's a clear difference of views then on what the intention, purpose and relevance of Lohengrin is, but that can also provide an interesting dialectic that can promote some interesting new thoughts on the work. Even if it's hard to fathom, I have to say I'm more taken with the visual aesthetic in this new Bayreuth production than with the contradictory thoughts that LA Opera director Sharon - the first American director invited to work on a Bayreuth production - entertains on the work.

Visually the production design is stunning, a vision in pale blue. There's nothing naturalistic about the mythological fairy-tale setting of Lohengrin, so there's no need whatsoever to have it in any realistic/idealistic depiction of medieval Brabant. Rauch and Loy's designs do pay lip service to period in the stylised costumes, but they also have more eccentric fairy-tale touches like wings attached to the backs of the main characters; long insect wings mostly, and little bat wings for Ortrud. There no real sign that these are used for flying, although the sword-fight challenge between Telramund and Lohengrin takes place in the air on wires. What does stand out as incongruous but spectacular is the huge wireless electrical generator tower where Lohengrin makes his appearance and the giant Tesla electrical coils that the accused Elsa is tied to in preparation for burning at the stake.

The imagery and the conflict of characterisation in this production does have a tendency then to highlight the divisions between good and evil. Is God on the side of the German people or against them, and is the struggle between Ortrud/Telramund and Lohentrin/Elsa a contest really to determine God's will as a resolution to King Henry's concerns about how to unite the people behind him? Admittedly, this view is probably influenced more by Waltraud Meier's brilliant interpretation in her expression of the word 'God' while she sets out to manipulate Frederic von Telramund. There is however also something about the division between old ways and new ways, between faith and magic that is highlighted in the traditional ceremonial heraldry and the 'magic' of electrical forces, the gods of technology.  There is even some hint of visual reference to Fritz Lang's Metropolis in this, where there is a similar need to reunite heart and mind in order to bring the people together as a nation.

Whether that's relevant to today is of course open to interpretation, but certainly viable in that it can be applicable to all kinds of contemporary issues, and perhaps particularly German ones. Yuval Sharon however takes a somewhat contrary viewpoint to the meaning and contemporary relevance of the work, seeing it as some kind of an expression of #MeToo and women's rights. His questioning in an interview whether "Can real love exist if you aren't allowed to know the partner?" and his view that Elsa and Ortrud are strong women who need to assert their own personality over "corrupt men" (including Lohengrin), since "blindly trusting and obeying someone is not permissible in our society" seems to me to be the complete opposite of the intended view of the opera on questions of faith and trust. There's nothing wrong in challenging or updating that view, and Wagner's views are certainly open to reevaluation, but I don't think that the director makes a convincing case by imposing modern gender politics onto the work when the real issues surely lie deeper than that on placing one's faith and trust in the concept of a nation.

The question is at least relevant in terms of power - if you want to consider the references to electricity simply in those terms - in who has the right to wield it and how they wield it. Nothing of course is that clear cut, and inevitably, by the time we get to the third Act it becomes harder to tie all the different symbols and imagery together into something meaningful. Frederic von Telramund's body isn't brought onto the stage for the last scene, but his detached wings are pinned to a flat piece of scenery that looks like a bush. The people carry flickering moth-shaped lamps, and the concluding return of Godfrey, the heir to the throne of Brabant, turns up not as a swan or a child on a swan but as a fully grown green man who resembles an East Berlin traffic light Ampelmann carrying an illuminated green shoot (the merging of nature and technology - who knows? It's Bayreuth).

Whatever you make of it all, it's a great Lohengrin that looks and sounds terrific and is certainly thought-provoking. Christian Thielemann can do no wrong as far as I'm concerned, conducting this performance with pace and vigour, but never aggressively, allowing the full Romantic flow of the work to dominate. The casting on paper looks close to ideal, but the few concerns you might have are borne out to some extent. Little needs to be said about Georg Zeppenfeld's clear authoritative King Henry; his acting abilities are maybe limited to eyebrow raising, but there's not a lot of room for interpretation in the role. Tomasz Konieczny is a superb Telramund; no cartoon villainy here, he combines a steely formidability in his voice with a weakness towards the machinations of Ortrud. Waltraud Meier is evidently not the force she once was, but her experience and interpretation count for a lot, bringing much to a vital role that deserves more than caricature. I've never been completely convinced with Anja Harteros as a Wagnerian singer, but she is capable of surprising you in the right role. Elsa is not the right role.

The star of the show as far as I was concerned (and the Bayreuth audience as well from the sound of it, although Meier also got a long enthusiastic and respectful ovation) was Piotr Beczala. Drafted into the production at short notice following the departure of the scheduled Roberto Alagna, who found himself not fully prepared for the role, Beczala was a luminous heroic Lohengrin (despite Sharon's misguided attempt to paint this Lohengrin as some kind of cruel authoritarian figure), his voice clear, bright and lyrical, his diction superb, sounding genuinely otherworldly. It's great to hear a different voice from the ubiquitous Klaus Florian Vogt in this role (quite how Alagna might have sounded is anyone's guess, but it might be intriguing to hear that one day) and Beczala, who already demonstrated his capability for the role in the Dresden production in 2016, is even better here, completely in command. There's no question whose side God is on here.

Links: Bayreuth Festival, BR-Klassik

Wagner - Tannhäuser (Munich, 2017)

Richard Wagner - Tannhäuser

Bayerische Staatsoper, 2017

Kirill Petrenko, Romeo Castellucci, Klaus Florian Vogt, Christian Gerhaher, Anja Harteros, Elena Pankratova, Georg Zeppenfeld, Dean Power, Peter Lobert, Ulrich Reß, Ralf Lukas, Elsa Benoit

ARTE Concert - 9th July 2017

There's a stunning display of imagery and evidence of a unique perspective in Romeo Castellucci's Munich opera festival production of Tannhäuser. Musically too the performance of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester conducted by Kirill Petrenko is lushly gorgeous and the singing from an impressive cast is jaw-droppingly good. It's everything we've come to expect from the Bavarian State Opera over the course of this current season. If there was something missing from the Tannhäuser production however, it's that indefinable quality that can be described broadly as coherence.

And perhaps it's not so difficult to pinpoint where the lack of coherence comes from, since that's the job really of the director. Romeo Castellucci's account of Wagner's opera however doesn't strictly hold to its traditional imagery or themes, but tends to revisit them from a more abstract perspective. As is often the case with Castellucci it's probably a mistake to try and think too deeply about the imagery or try to connect up all the dots and references into a coherent whole. On its own terms his visual representation of the opera is quite striking and unexpected. This is definitely not a case of a director nailing his ideas firmly to a single recognisable concept, but rather one that opens it up for the audience to apply their own interpretation.

It's hard for example to understand just what kind of statement the director is making upfront when a legion of topless Amazonian archers take to the stage during the overture and embark upon a synchronised ritual of target practice onto the projected image of a eye, which then becomes an ear. In Castellucci's mind, they are cupids, straight out of the libretto's description of Venusberg, their arrows representing love and the wounds it creates, but there's more of a Leni Riefenstahl Olympia character here and in other imagery that is reminiscent of propaganda art of the Third Reich. It could also be seen to relate to the ancient mythology of Diana, goddess of the hunt and nature.

It's an idealised image of perfection however that is ultimately shown to be corrupting to Heinrich, and Castellucci finds equally extreme imagery to represent this with the goddess Venus bubbling out of a mound of heaving forms melded together in pool of rippling flesh. As unconventional as the imagery is, it can be related to or seen as a response to the broad character of Tannhäuser, albeit with a little more sinister edge to it. That's certainly the character also of Wartburg when Heinrich returns there, with the Landgrave and his entourage shown out hunting in red robes, ritually washing themselves in the blood of a felled deer rather like a cult to Diana. 

Thus far you can relate the imagery, albeit tenuously, to themes in Tannhäuser. Heinrich, having seen more of the world, is reluctant to rejoin Hermann's order, which can be seen to be a perversion of nature - a slaughter and a circle of blood that is regarded with horror by the young shepherd boy. Elisabeth - Anja Harteros wearing a nude-print dress - represents a vision of purity that the singers aspire to but which is too unworldly to be capable of attaining. The imagery turns ever more bizarre in an attempt perhaps to relate this to the ideal of a pure kingdom or nation, with flawless bodies moving behind a white veil in perfect synchronisation, suggesting some kind of body fascism that is just as disturbing as the fleshy imagery of Venusberg.

Sequence after sequence moves ever more distant not only from any conventional symbolism but any kind of consistent rationale that you could apply. Disembodied feet litter the stage; a lightbox that presents the themes of the singers is obliterated from the inside by frenzied spraying of black paint; pilgrims carry a huge gold boulder and return with smaller sized gold rocks; monumental bases hold the rotting, disintegrating corpses of Heinrich and Elisabeth, as hundreds of thousands of millions of years pass and they turn to ash, but they are emblazoned with the names of 'Klaus' and 'Anja'. The image of the arrow is present throughout, but its symbolism changes according to the scene, representing wounding love one moment, the hunting of Tannhäuser the next, but primarily and significantly as the final image seen on the stage, it represents the flight of time.

It all looks beautiful and is visually engaging, but without extensive programme notes and explanations it would be hard to follow just what the director is reading from Tannhäuser. According to Castellucci, Heinrich is a figure who is doomed to never attain the perfection he seeks in either realm (Venusberg/Wartburg), but rather the quasi-religious perfection represented by Elisabeth/Maria can only be found in a dimension outside space and time. Even with that explanation it's a very unique perspective that hardly illuminates nor illustrates the opera in any conventional fashion. And, despite the apparent desecration of the work's high-minded ideals, it doesn't entirely overcome the sanctimonious tone that you sometimes find at the work's conclusion.

There are however rare pleasures to be found elsewhere. In terms of singing, Christian Gerhaher's warm, lyrical Wolfram steals the show and it's not often you can say that in Tannhäuser, and that's no mean feat either when up against singers of the class of Vogt, Harteros, Zeppenfeld and Pankratova in the major roles. It does make for an odd but interesting imbalance, since it makes Wolfram's ode to Grace ('Anmut') in the singing competition a persuasive and appealing vision against which Heinrich's reaction seem churlish. That's through no fault of Klaus Florian Vogt, who sings as purely and beautifully as ever here, although not quite with the same commanding conviction for this role as he can provide as Lohengrin, von Stolzing or even as Parsifal.

I had some minor reservations about Anja Harteros when she sang Elsa in the Salzburg Easter Festival Die Walküre but she is very impressive as Elisabeth here with some absolutely gorgeous singing, holding her line beautifully with a smooth legato. She seems at a bit of a loss what to make of Elisabeth and I suspect Castellucci didn't really give her a lot of direction here. It's a pity because Harteros is a fine singer/actor and could do a lot more, but her singing performance alone is good enough. Castellucci doesn't do Elena Pankratova any favours by burying her in a mound of prosthetic flesh, but the Russian soprano didn't let that deter her either from an excellent performance.

Links: Bayerische Staatsoper, ARTE Concert