Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Vienna, 2022)

Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Wiener Staatsoper, Vienna - 2022

Philippe Jordan, Calixto Bieito, Andreas Schager, René Pape, Martina Serafin, Iain Paterson, Ekaterina Gubanova, Clemens Unterreiner, Daniel Jenz, Martin Häßler, Josh Lovell

Wiener Staatsoper Live - 27 April 2022

All of Wagner's mature works have their own particular qualities and strengths, and his final work Parsifal may well be the pinnacle of all opera, but nothing matches Tristan und Isolde for sheer sustained intensity. Some will be dismayed at the often controversial - more often baffling - concept and aesthetic of Calixto Bieito's stage productions being imposed upon such a work as Tristan und Isolde under the current administration of the Vienna State Opera directed by Bogdan Roščić. If you are able to get past this however, it's surely possible to recognise that the director has nonetheless found his own way of tapping into and representing the essential inner strength and intensity of a piece that should never fail to challenge.

If you can get the intensity of the inner emotional content of this opera across not just at the love potion conclusion of the first Act, but can even create that intensity from the outset and build it up to that conclusion, you're are definitely in tune with the intent of the work. There may not be a ship at sea but water does play a part throughout. Act I is a fairly sparse affair, looking like it takes place in an Irish fishing market with a couple of shallow pools of water, sluice channels, on the darkened stage while blindfolded children sit on rows of swings. There is evidently a lot of psychopathology to unpack as far as the red-haired Irish princess in her green polka dotted frock is concerned, and Isolde wields her history, her family, her regal position and her Irish heritage as a weapon to unleash against the betraying Tristan and her own self-betrayal.

Not only has she healed and fallen in love with the man she later discovers is responsible for killing her betrothed Morold, but Tristan is now bringing her as a 'tribute' to be married to his uncle King Mark of Cornwall. That outpouring of loathing and self loathing is fully felt on the stage here, with a duffel coated Tristan right there in front of her and subjected to her fury as he rolls around in the shallow waters. Such is the power and intensity of Martina Serafin's Act I performance that you don't need a love potion for it to develop into something dangerous, and indeed - since it's Bieito, there obviously isn't a flask as such. Each drink the frustration, rage, anger, delirium and love out of the hands of the other, while Brangäne walks past carrying a fish in a plastic bag in each hand. There's nothing of elevated medieval royalty about this, the production demonstrating more that it is an exercise in the human capacity to elevate themselves though love, and for love to exceed human boundaries.

Act II similarly avoids any more typical depiction of Isolde and Tristan's ill-advised and not so surreptitious encounter together, the two instead appearing in separate floating rooms - the more earthbound Brangäne scaling and gutting a fish - that they proceed to tear down. It's simple enough symbolism, the lovers rising above the earth, still trying to strip away any physical boundaries and mortal impediments that would prevent them achieving a union of perfect bliss. All the jumping around, tearing books and unbuttoning dresses does distract and impede the singers a little from fully getting across the emotional depths to which they are wrapped in each other.

At this stage however, union is of course not possible, the two of them still in separate rooms, distinct corporeal entities, unable to consummate that union on any physical or earthly plane. The necessary impossible intensity of this situation is still fully felt, and King Mark's arrival almost seems a welcome appearance that prevents them from spontaneous combustion. Much as I still enjoy seeing what René Pape brings to this role, his grave intoning precisely what is needed here, it has to be said that he is no longer the force he once was and it's beginning to show. The dynamic that he brings however is still effective as Tristan is not struck down by Melot in this scene (both Melot and Mark are sidelined as minor figures in this production), but attempts to perish by his own hand, Isolde attempting to join him.

Despite the usual provocation of full-frontal nudity - a wall of naked male and female figures slowly advance and decorate Kareol like statues, many in embrace - Calixto Bieito otherwise plays out Act III without any significant reworking of Wagner's mood and mysticism. Andreas Schager's Tristan is a bloodied, agonised figure, his anxiety and longing matched in intensity only by Iain Paterson's faithful Kurwenal here. Tristan expires on an overturned table, which is righted by Isolde who sinks to her own love-death reaching out across the table to him. It's an affecting moment however you play it.

The part that Philippe Jordan's conducting of the Wiener Staatsoper orchestra plays in this can't be underestimated. It's a perfectly controlled affair, unleashing forces in response to the stage directions, working in accordance with them, ensuring that everything seen or suggested is brought out with full impact. The performance of Andreas Schager should also be acknowledged. Any prior reservations about his singing or acting abilities are quickly dismissed as he makes a huge impression in Act I, conflicted between his heroism, his love and his betrayal. Already everything that needs to be put in place has been firmly established right from the start, the direction working beyond the surface to bring out all the competing, conflicting forces, the love/hate and love/death paradoxes. He carries this through to Act III with complete commitment. Much the same goes for Martina Serafin's performance. It's perhaps not as strong and consistent vocally, but she is utterly engaging and no less impressive alongside Schager as Isolde.

Any reservations put forward by naysayers quick to denounce anything challenging that strays too far from the familiar are also easily countered. Some will still complain at anything Calixto Bieito turns his hands to, but I would be amazed that anyone could fail to be moved by what takes place on stage and in the pit in this production, or seriously believe that the stage direction takes anything away from it. Jordan's conducting finds the rhythms and moods well, and Schager and Serafin's interpretation of Tristan and Isolde is deeply felt. Regardless of what you make of the strangeness of the set designs, there is little doubt that Bieito's direction of the cast/actors has been instrumental in achieving that, and the fact that the Vienna production carries the force of the work entirely should be abundantly clear.

Rimsky-Korsakov - The Snow Maiden (Paris, 2017)

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov - The Snow Maiden

L’Opéra National de Paris, 2017

Mikhail Tatarnikov, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Aida Garifullina, Yuriy Mynenko, Martina Serafin, Maxim Paster, Thomas Johannes Mayer, Elena Manistina, Vladimir Ognovenko, Franz Hawlata, Vasily Gorshkov, Carole Wilson, Vasily Efimov, Vincent Morell, Pierpaolo Palloni, Olga Oussova 

ARTE Concert - 25 April 2017

Rimsky-Korsakov's telling of the fairy tale of The Snow Maiden is by no means a straightforward narrative. The story itself is simple enough and easy to follow, but it's elaborated on by the composer with all the colours and adornments of an epic Russian legend, with songs, dances, musical interludes, ceremonial folk dances and choruses. This however is not Sadko or The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh, and as beautiful as the scoring is, it risks losing sight of the simple message at the heart of the story about love and time, about the seasons bringing change and renewal. You have to wonder then whether Dmitri Tcherniakov doesn't risk adding another level of distance in his production for the Paris Opera that takes it further away from the fairy tale moral.  

The Snow Maiden isn't performed as often as other works by Rimsky-Korsakov and it's only recently that we've really had a chance to get to experience a wider selection of the composer's work. It has to be said that for all the controversy that he brings with him, Dmitri Tcherniakov has been at the forefront of introducing rarely heard Russian masterpieces to the West and presenting them in a new meaningful light, and Rimsky-Korsakov works have been very much a part of that. The Snow Maiden however is clearly something of a challenging work to stage effectively. John Fulljames directed a beautiful and wonderfully illuminating production of The Snow Maiden for Opera North last year, but even that failed to thaw the icy heart of the work.  

The nature of Ostrovsky's work as a piece of folklore with a very Russian character and a magical fairy tale element shouldn't necessarily present a difficulty to a director like Tcherniakov who wants to modernise it to some extent, but his production of The Snow Maiden seems to fall somewhere in between. Not unexpectedly, the dispute of Mother Spring and Father Frost is seen in a rather more contemporary domestic light, with the unfortunate off-spring of their ill-matched union - the Snow Maiden - being given up for adoption to a old Berendeyan couple. The Berendey village in the woods however, while apparently some kind of little commune, still can't help but retain an old Russian folk character in its dress and customs.

Big and colourful, recreating a small village arrayed in a small semi-circle with a wood of tall trees behind, it's another one of Tcherniakov's extravagant sets that presents a busy stage for all of Rimsky-Korsakov's rich arrangements and choruses. It certainly captures the sense of a close community, and Tcherniakov's direction also creates an impression sense of real meaningful drama between the characters in as far as he is able. He can't resist having Tsar Berendey nod off for a few seconds as Kupova starts on an elaborate answer to the simple question of who has offended her honour, but it's playful and not mocking, recognising that there's a lot of filler and conventionalism in the telling of the story.

The connection between the tides and seasons of nature of those that bring about changes in the nature of man however isn't drawn quite as cleverly as John Fulljames' production for Opera North. Everything that needs to be said however is said fairly directly in the libretto; "The hearts of people are getting colder. I see less warmth in their love", Tsar Berendey observes. If Dmitri Tcherniakov doesn't really draw out or highlight the folk elements and rhythms of nature in his direction, nor find anything new or insightful to bring to it, his direction doesn't quite go as far as obscuring the intentions and the moral of the story. But when it does come to life, it seems to be more to do with the lovely performance of the Paris orchestra and the fine singing performances.

The fact that Rimsky-Korsakov's score is sumptuously beautiful is clearly apparent, but under the direction of conductor Mikhail Tatarnikov, the skill with which the composer has matched the score to the dramatic and narrative side of the work is even more evident here. It also works beautifully hand-in-hand with the singing. Aida Garifullina has everything you want of a snow maiden, glowing youth and freshness and a voice that soars not with confidence, but with an otherworldly beauty. It was quite extraordinary to hear Lel sung not by a female contralto, but by a male countertenor. Yuriy Mynenko brought out another dynamic out of the work, a persuasive beauty that Lel's songs should really possess.

Musically and in terms of the singing performances, the Paris production is indeed beyond reproach, with other fine performances to enjoy in Martina Serafin's Kupova, in Maxim Paster's Tsar and Thomas Johannes Mayer's Mizguir. Aside from the opening introduction sequence, which appears somewhat at odds with fairy tale nature of the remainder of the production, Dmitri Tcherniakov's direction actually tells the story clearly and without over-complicating matters and it looks marvellous. With its naturalistic approach to the simple folk lifestyle of living life out in the woods, it does promote more of a back-to-nature sentiment as a way of opening one's heart to the radiant flame of life, but despite the exquisite beauty of the work, it still feels a rather cold and lifeless affair that never really connects to human emotions in the way that you would like. Cold and beautiful however might just be the actual nature of Rimsky-Korsakov's The Snow Maiden.

Links: L’Opéra National de Paris, ARTE Concert

Strauss - Der Rosenkavalier (Vienna, 2015 - Webcast)

Richard Strauss - Der Rosenkavalier

Wiener Staatsoper, 2015

Adam Fischer, Otto Schenk, Martina Serafin, Wolfgang Bankl, Elīna Garanča, Erin Morley, Jochen Schmeckenbecher, Caroline Wenborne, Thomas Ebenstein, Ulrike Helzel

Wiener Staatsoper Live at Home - 12 April 2015
 
There are some things to be said for Otto Schenk's old, traditional, somewhat stuffy, period realistic production of Der Rosenkavalier. Not much admittedly, and it's perhaps unintentional, but Act I at least fully indulges Strauss and Hofmannsthal's qualified nostalgia for an idealised Vienna of the past, a way of life that is on the point of change and never to be regained. And since this production is being played in Vienna itself, that is likely to hold some measure of recognition with the home audience. So it's not a stylised Vienna either, but one that looks and realistically reflects how things might indeed have looked and, to an extent, operated in the olden days.

The Vienna seen in Act I of Der Rosenkavalier, in the bed chamber of the Feldmarschallin, is one where the privilege of nobility permits all manner of abuses. These are presented in a saucy farcical manner by Strauss and Hoffmannsthal - with reference evidently to the music and operetta of the time - but there is a little bit of an edge here that shows attitudes, morals, social gatherings, behaviours and manners that are rather hidebound and out of step with the world we live in today. It's a world that is already starting to change with the arrival of the merchant class of nouveaux riches, seen in the second act. Unintentionally then, Otto Schenk's frumpy, old-fashioned set does reflect a world clinging to a past that is in conflict with social changes.

Particularly in its attitudes towards women. Octavian, a young boy sung by a mezzo-soprano in a trouser role who is to be our optimistic hope for a new future, dresses as a maid in Act I and soon finds out what it's like to be on the receiving end of male attentions. The behaviour of Baron Ochs towards Mariandel is not surprising however, nor are the allusions to servants bearing illegitimate offspring of the nobility without those children having the same rights and privileges, but it's mostly played for laughs in the opera. What makes Der Rosenkavalier a little more pertinent however, is the attitute and contemplation of the situation of the Marschallin. 

Marschallin has enjoyed the privilege of having a prominent position in nobility, but she - "ordered into wedlock straight from the convent" - has never enjoyed the same kind of freedom that men of rank and position hold. Baron Ochs can chase her "maid" around the room, probably "get the money and the young girl" from a rich family that he is engaged to and boast of there being probably more than one other little bastard Lerchenau in the servant's quarters that he doesn't even know about. Marschallin however, as a woman, has to be very careful to hide her illicit although perhaps not entirely guilt-free (abusing her position as a wealthy and beautiful woman?) affair with her young cousin Octavian. "That's the way of the world".

But the Marschallin's contemplative melancholy goes beyond the inequalities in how the sexual behaviour of men and women is perceived. She also feels "the fragility of all temporal things" as only a woman can, and knows time is more cruel to women than to men. But more than just fearing the approach of old age and the diminishment of her charms, there's an awareness - its implications perhaps not entirely grasped - that the times are changing too. "Don't be like all other men!", she warns Octavian, even as she has the premonition that their time together is approaching an end, and that society will leave her kind behind just as Octavian will, sooner or later, leave her for Sophie. He must take advantage of these new opportunities and offer Sophie, and women as a whole, a different world from the one she has known.

All this is laid out in Act I, and there's not much Otto Schenk's production can do to take away from the beauty of what Strauss and Hofmannsthal have created here. It's a scene that carries resonance all the way through the longeurs of Act II and particularly Act III, right up until the moment that the Marschallin reappears and brings all the lovely melancholy of time and change with her once again. The production however has nothing much to contribute to any of this, Act II at the residence of the Faninals scarcely looking any brighter or more modern than Act I, Act III's dark interior of the inn looking exactly as you might expect a den of iniquity to appear, played plainly as a farce without any of the work's satirical tone.

The production values however are high, as you might expect, Octavian in particular cutting a fine figure against this backdrop in his period costume and wig. That's Elīna Garanča, looking terrific if not in the least bit manly, singing the role beautfully. She sings one of the best Octavians I've heard recently, but her movements, performance and delivery are a little stiff, not really seeming to engage with the production or as well with the other characters as you might like. And yet, the performances of each of the other singers Octavian plays off is also outstanding in his or her role. Martina Serafin is a perfect Marschallin, Wolfgang Bankl a well-characterised Ochs auf Lerchenau, but it's Erin Morley's Sophie who really gives the production that freshness and vitality that is unfortunately lacking elsewhere.

Der Rosenkavalier was broadcast from the Vienna State Opera as part of their Live at Home programme. The next broadcast is L'ITALIANA IN ALGERI on the 30th April. May sees Juan Diego Flórez in DON PASQUALE, Plácido Domingo in NABUCCO and the beginning of Sven-Eric Bechtolf's production of DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN, conducted by Simon Rattle. Details of how to view these productions live at home can be found in the links below.


Links: Wiener Staatsoper Live Streaming programme; Staatsoper Live at Home video