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

Bartók - Judith/Duke Bluebeard's Castle (Munich, 2020)

Béla Bartók - Judith/Duke Bluebeard's Castle

Concerto for Orchestra (1944), Duke Bluebeard's Castle (1918)

Bayerische Staatsoper, 2020

Oksana Lyniv, Katie Mitchell, Grant Gee, John Lundgren, Nina Stemme

Staatsoper.TV - March 2020

Bartók's one-act opera is often paired with another short work which, whether it's as an accompaniment or integrated to expand on the themes of the work, inevitably colours and has a bearing on the content. And in Duke Bluebeard's Castle themes and undercurrents abound. Rarely however is Bartók paired with one of the composer's own works, mainly because he only composed this one brilliant short opera. La Monnaie in Brussels however managed a fairly successful pairing of Duke Bluebeard's Castle with the composer's 1924 pantomime ballet The Magnificent Mandarin, adding a little commentary on the main short opera, even if there was little obvious connection between the two works.

Katie Mitchell takes a different approach in the Bavarian State Opera's pairing of the Bartók's 1918 Duke Bluebeard's Castle with the much later Concerto for Orchestra, written in the United States in 1944, the two works combining to create a single work, Judith. In Judith the Concerto serves as a musical prelude to the opera, the production using a film by British director Grant Gee that sets the scene for a modern reinterpretation of the opera. Being directed by Katie Mitchell however, you can assume there will be a feminist take on the subject and some might see that as a necessary reading that certainly wouldn't be out of place for this work.

Unfortunately, as far as coming up with a new modern spin on the subject the idea and the execution is again (after Mitchell’s attempt to correct Shakespeare’s chauvinism in The Tempest through Miranda) somewhat lacking. The Concerto for Orchestra is used as the score for a crime-thriller movie, setting the scene of Bluebeard  as a sinister city executive in London, scouring an escort agency site that specialises in more mature women, selecting victims that are picked up and brought to him by his chauffeur. Police detective Anna Barlow (Nina Stemme) finds a clue in photographs uploaded by one of the women and goes undercover posing as 'Judith'.

It’s not a terribly original or complex idea but it takes 40 minutes of the Concerto to lay this out. Grant Gee's film is attractively shot in the Southwark district, an area south of the Thames currently being extensively redeveloped, but there is no sign of any real artistry here. There's nothing that provides any motivation or explores the psychology of a predator of women. The Concerto is lovely to listen to, but it doesn’t particularly match with the drama in the film either. It’s much too long as a prelude which does nothing except provide a reason why a woman would willingly following a path that has led to the disappearance of other women. It could have been covered equally as well with a five minute prologue or with a few title screens.

Once we get to Bluebeard's Castle however it has to be said that the sense of menace, danger and the sinister edge of the environment is well achieved. Judith does have a mission to "warm this icy stone" with its weeping walls, breach its ramparts and expose the nature of Bluebeard. The seven doors are visible on security monitors and, as a police detective, Anna has good reason to want the keys to open those rooms. It's fitting that she finds a torture chamber in the first room and a weapons room in the second. Well, what else would you expect to find in the home of a serial killer? The third room also has a sinister aspect, a strong room with a safe, filled with jewellery, trophies stained with blood that undoubtedly belongs to his victims.

As dark as its origins and underlying psychology might be, doesn't turning Duke Bluebeard's Castle into a banal crime-thriller take away somewhat from the original fairy-tale? Well evidently that's exactly what Katie Mitchell wants to do, to demolish any suggestion that the fairy story is about a weak woman's curiosity about the sexual experience of her husband and her helplessness in the face of the power of his masculinity. There's nothing natural about 'Bluebeard's Castle', it's an artificial construct, the lands of his dominion here nothing more than a VR projection, a trick to impress and instill respect. His power is the abuse, mistreatment and enslavement of women. Like Miranda and Lessons in Love and Violence however I'm not sure putting a gun into the hands of a woman to regain power is quite the image to overturn and correct any imbalance.

Bartók's opera is a powerful work in its own right, impressive in its musical flow and expression, working on abstract and allegorical levels, hinting at dark sinister acts, appalling secrets and twisted desires. It's created for two powerful voices to explore and the Bayerische Staatsoper has two such superb performers here in Nina Stemme and John Lundgren. Not only is the singing top class, but the performances are well-acted with a cat-and-mouse interplay, each hiding something, truths gradually being revealed or realised about each other. Whether you view that on a cop/criminal or male/female level, it does capture a sense of the imbalance of power, or where the balance of power is perceived to be.

Former assistant to Kirill Petrenko, the musical direction by Oksana Lyniv is excellent, maintaining an intensity that matches what is happening on the stage. Alex Eales' set design is also very impressive for a work that relies on establishing the right mood. Coming in from the underground garage the bridges the film with the opera, the set remains below ground one room leading to the next, sliding into place. It creates a sense of an enclosed claustrophobic environment, threatening and entrapping with no windows and no natural light, the castle as a projection of Bluebeard himself. Reservations about viewing it as a crime-thriller movie aside, the performances of Stemme and Lundgren in this environment make this every bit the titanic encounter it ought to be.

Links: Bayerische Staatsoper