Showing posts with label Tristan und Isolde. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tristan und Isolde. Show all posts

Sunday, 4 August 2024

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Bayreuth, 2024)


Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2024

Semyon Bychkov,Thorleifur Örn Arnarsson, Andreas Schager, Günther Groissböck, Camilla Nylund, Olafur Sigurdarson, Birger Radde, Christa Mayer, Daniel Jenz, Lawson Anderson, Matthew Newlin

BR-Klassik - 25th July 2024

It's not often I am at a loss of words to describe or give an impression of a production of Tristan und Isolde, particularly one at the Bayreuth Festival which usually gives plenty to think about and unusual directorial touches to describe, but in the case of the new production that opens the 2024 festival I think this Isolde has taken all the words for herself. At the start of the opera we see her wearing a jewel encrusted fencing mask, dressed in a robe filled with words that spreads out around and covers the ground she lies upon, still scribbling more words onto the costume. For the remainder of the first Act however we see little more on the stage than an abstract impression of a ship with rigging sailing through misty waters. Already I'm beginning to suspect that director Thorleifur Örn Arnarsson is going to expect each person who views it to do much of the work for him on this one.

On the other hand, there is something to be said for reining in the traditional excesses seen at Bayreuth for something a little more low key than some of the wilder over-the-top productions seen there over the last few decades under the artistic direction of Katarina Wagner. You can take your pick at which is the most extravagant, whether Herheim's Parsifal, the Castorf Ring, the Baumgarten's industrial Tannhäuser… there are too many to choose from. Perhaps it's time to tone down on the distractions a little and let the music and the singing express everything that needs to be said, or at least everything that is important. In the case of Tristan und Isolde, it doesn't need a great deal of imagined action, elaborate stage sets or re-interpretation to bring out what it is about, but it should leave some openness that allows some of its mysteries to remain. There is at least a suggestion of something mystical and ambiguous in this production around the feelings that truly lie between Tristan and Isolde, even before the magic potion kicks in.

As for the magic potion, well even that is not deemed essential in this production for those feelings to well up and spill over. There is a phial, but neither seem to drink from from it, both already seemingly aware on some level of the feelings they have for each other, the simmering passions that they know are wrong, one a betrayal of Morold, the other a betrayal of King Mark. And yet despite Tristan studiously trying to avoid meeting Isolde on the journey from Ireland until she is delivered to the King in Cornwall, it just can't be avoided. When he does agree to take the drink, he appears to be well aware of Isolde's magical powers since they helped heal him while in Ireland (a source of guilt for both), and as such, knowing what is ahead, he seems willing to accept or unable to deny the fate she offers him, which is death. Isolde for her part, realises this at the last moment and casts the potion away, assuming her own share not so much of the poison as her share of guilt.

If there is not much in the way of pointers as far as the direction goes at this stage, at least there is much to enjoy in the singing. Andreas Schager and Camilla Nylund might not be the first choice singers for these roles, but there is no denying their experience in almost all the key Wagnerian roles for tenor and soprano. Schager is perhaps a bit too earnest, a little steely and overly forceful in delivery - and this becomes more of an issue in the second and third acts. Camilla Nylund is again excellent, following her recent performances as Brünnhilde in the impressive Zurich Ring Cycle. Both are well supported here by Olafur Sigurdarson's Kurwenal and Christa Mayer's Brangäne

Ok, so maybe I'm not left at a complete loss of words, but few of them point to any original observations about the work at this stage. The subsequent Acts don't add a great deal more, lack rigour and focus, but perhaps hint at the framework of an idea, with Semyon Bychkov bringing more to the musical interpretation to spur it along. The orchestral build up to the arrival of Tristan in Act II is furiously played, overwhelming, as you imagine it ought to be. The darkness enveloping Isolde and Brangäne is dimly illuminated at his arrival to show them in a rather more cluttered area in what appears to be the hull of the ship with pipes, gauges, wheels and dials, but also random luggage and objects: a globe, clocks, an urn, stuffed animals, statues and busts, pictures, Isolde's mask, all of it bathed in reddish golden glow.

All the rapturous sentiments are there in Act II, but there s little sense of it meaning anything or any sense of it being connected to the world outside - which is a valid view of two lovers for whom nothing else exists. In what becomes a running theme in this production - and hence where you suspect some intent of commentary or interpretation lies - is that the two lovers seem determined to consummate their love again though the imbibing of the death potion but are inevitably interrupted. Another attempt is made after King Mark’s speech, as Tristan holds the flask and invites Isolde to join him in his wondrous realm of night. Rather than Merlot striking him with sword, Tristan succeeds in drinking from the flask and Isolde is frustrated in her attempt to follow him by an intervention from Melot. King Marke's arrival however reveals that in the light of day, the hull of the ship is nothing more a rusted hulk. These are slim points of difference that don't seem to offer anything significant or new.

Andreas Schager is already feeling the strain a little in Act II through the sheer force of his delivery, pushing much too hard at the expense of a more nuanced interpretation of the dynamic. Camilla Nylund's lovely richness of voice is evident but she doesn't always have the necessary power and lacks any real direction from Arnarsson to help her wade through the text that spills onto her dress. It's probably about time that someone other than Georg Zeppenfeld was given the role of King Mark at Bayreuth (and every other important house in Europe performing this work), but it's only when you hear someone else sing it that you appreciate Zeppenfeld more. It's not an enviable role to enter at this stage in Act II and have to deliver a long monologue wallowing in disappointment and betrayal, but grimacing Günther Groissböck isn't able to make much of it and a section of the audience show their displeasure at the end of act curtain call.

The skeletal hulk of the decaying, rusting ship remains in Act III as Kareol, now even more disordered, with all the junk heaped together in a pile and the dying Tristan slumped against it. Again, it's a slim offering for this work and the failure to make anything significant of the circumstances that drive Tristan and Isolde to consummate their love-death, in as far as that can be done (and in Wagner's world, in his music at least it makes sense) means that it's hard to feel that the right tone has been established for this final scene. Schager gives his usual committed performance but it feels desperate rather than express desperation. His delivery then of Tristan's delirious monologue wavers, impressive in some respects, inaccurate in others as he flails around pushing his voice to its limits. Nylund at least brings a more delicate yet appropriate touch to what the director has been heading towards in the conclusion where she drains what remains in the flask and joins Tristan in death.

It's true that every director has their own interpretation of Tristan und Isolde and there should be no limits placed on that, but I can't help feel that from the small twists on the libretto that are applied here, it shows a fundamental misreading of the work or perhaps a very limited view of it. There is a suggestion that both Isolde and Tristan have deep emotional baggage or physical human limitations - one in Isolde's obsessiveness over trying to put her feelings into words, the other in the objects that almost smother Tristan in Act III - that holds them back from achieving the true transcendence they aspire towards together, both trapped within an imperfect decaying body of the ship. It's not a lot to go on, but with Wagner's remarkable score conducted by Semyon Bychkov and some good singing it's almost enough. Unfortunately with this work almost enough just isn't good enough.


External links: Bayreuther Festspiele, BR-Klassik


Wednesday, 4 May 2022

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.

Sunday, 15 August 2021

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Aix-en-Provence, 2021)


Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Festival Aix-en-Provence, 2021

Simon Rattle, Simon Stone, Stuart Skelton, Nina Stemme, Jamie Barton, Josef Wagner, Franz-Josef Selig, Dominic Sedgwick, Linard Vrielink, Ivan Thirion

ARTE Concert - 8th July 2021

Director Simon Stone typically approaches Tristan und Isolde in his 2021 Aix-en-Provence Festival production with the intention of updating the opera to a more meaningful contemporary age. As wrong-headed as that might seem, since the drama - such as it is - and principal motivating force in Wagner's opera and music score takes place in a realm almost entirely outside of any physical time or place, Stone nonetheless has good form with his modern updates both in the world of opera and in the theatre. There's a complete reworking of the drama and the motivating forces behind it in this production, but Wagner's sublime music proves - as always - to be supremely capable of withstanding and supporting any number of extravagant directorial ideas and concepts. 

If you want to relocate Tristan und Isolde in the present day, minus magic love potions and the forced relocation of the Queen of Ireland by sea to a forced marriage with the King of Cornwall, you do nonetheless need to replace it with something suitable and meaningful. There's a natural division in the opera between the physical reality and an idealised dream-like exploration of powerful forces that extend beyond and transcend material human boundaries. Krzysztof Warlikowski also recently exploited that division in his 2021 Munich production and for the festival at Aix, Stone proposes viewing the heightened reality as a kind of love/vengeance fantasy on the part of the disturbed mind of a wife whose husband has been unfaithful to her.

Much of this is laid out in the Vorspiel and inevitably Wagner's music has a lot of weight to carry in order to establish this as any kind of viable idea to impose upon Tristan und Isolde. Witnessing her husband (Tristan) canoodling with a work colleague or friend at a dinner party in their fancy apartment, Isolde goes to bed in Act I dreaming of stormy sea with ideas of burning revenge and probably divorce raging in her dreams. Rather than drink from some arcane flask of magic potion, here at the conclusion of Act I it's a collection of prescription drugs and a cachet of cocaine in a cardboard shoe box that acts as a drug to heighten the personal turmoil of emotions going on between them.

As ever in this particular work, you need to carry this though to its conclusion to determine whether this domestic arrangement can be sustained, but it has to be said that Stone at least does establish it in spectacular fashion in Act I. You might be less inclined to go along with this idea as it is initially laid out where it not for the power of Wagner's music to scour the depths of human emotional response. It sustains the dramatic and conflicting tensions of love, hatred and desire that exists between Tristan and Isolde through to the release from any inhibiting factors to its expression at the end of the first act. There's still quite a bit to go though, and it's not easy to piece it all together into something coherent in Stone's production.

Act II abruptly takes us to an office where Isolde appears to be the manager, where the staff - in line with present circumstances - observe social distancing and mask wearing in the workplace. The day after the night before, the consequences still reverberating in Wagner's score, Tristan is shown the door with his suitcase. His reappearance in the office however leads - slightly confusingly - to a seamless flashback of the consuming love the two of them once had. To add to the complex layering of the situation and the resonances in Wagner's music, younger Tristans and Isoldes re-enact the beginning of their affair in parallel scenes during 'O sink hernieder'. It's revealed that the affair indeed started as an office romance when Isolde was already married and had a young child, the discovery of the affair breaking up her marriage.

It's not the traditional telling of the story of Tristan und Isolde by any means and it risks undermining the context and intended meaning of the drama, but it certainly touches on the underlying sentiments, if somewhat obliquely. More than that it in fact, with a vision of an elderly Isolde and Tristan in a wheelchair, it attempts to telescope the entirety of sentiments that contribute to a fully rounded and lived relationship, and encapsulate within it the depth of feeling that two people can have for one another. It's not just two people each with the own feelings but something greater that has grown between them, a love that is called Tristan AND Isolde, something that exceeds the boundaries of flesh and blood existence and can only reach its fulfilment in death. And damned if you don't feel that when it is laid out like this.

Laying it out, as simply as possible in all its complexity, is indeed the purpose of a director and Stone achieves that to a remarkable degree. It's no mean feat to match and fuse the sentiments expressed in the music and in the abstract dramatic expression of what love means, and translate that into something relatable. For the most part, Stone makes every moment feel meaningful and prevents anything from dragging - King Marke's monologue excepted, which eludes even Stone's ability, particularly as it's difficult to figure out what this Marke's relationship is with Isolde in the layered timeline. Obviously she's his wife at this point, but after Act I it's not that clear how it has come about. On the other hand, Isolde seeing Tristan wounded by Melot at the end of Act II and attempting to take her own life seems like a thoughtful pertinent touch.

Things perhaps become clearer in Act III, showing how the latter scene was in the main a flashback interlude at a point where Isolde had left Marke for Tristan. There is a murmur in the audience as Act III opens - defying even the wildest expectations of where this might be going - on a moving train running through the Paris underground Metro line. It sure as heck wasn't going to be the usual static scene on Kareol anyway. Closer to the immediate aftermath of the Christmas party, here Tristan and Isolde are on their way to a function - or perhaps an opera  - in formal dress. Or more likely since they are heading out of the city - stopping at each of the stations on the Porte des Lilas line - just back from one. At the conclusion - major spoiler alert - Isolde catches Tristan texting his mistress and Melot defends her honour by stabbing Tristan as the passengers get off at their station.

I don't really care what justification Stone has for this, and I'm not even sure it goes against my previous belief that Tristan und Isolde is stronger when it plays out in the abstract, letting the spirit of the work and the music flow without being tied to any realistic physical realm. A subway train is both as abstract and as real as any a place for Tristan to agonise through his last moments of life, in isolation amidst the oblivious and sometimes concerned glances of the other passengers. It has a suitable air of surrealism about it, being vaguely unsettling or disorientating, as the tube of the train, authentic from the upholstery of the seats down to the graffiti tags on the wall, shuttles alone relentlessly from station to station.

Everything that Act III needs to be however is there most critically in the performances of Stuart Skelton and Nina Stemme. While he cuts a less than heroic romantic figure than you would usually expect of a Tristan in Act I, and looks somewhat shamefaced like a naughty schoolboy at being caught out by Marke and Melot in Act II, the true depth of his feeling, his love psychosis, is felt in Skelton's powerful, deeply felt performance throughout. Freshly wounded again on the Paris Metro in Act III, what is essentially put across is a sense of deep loss and the pain of it.

Here Stone takes the liberty of reworking the Liebestod - a daring venture if nothing else for it being one of the most sublime moments ever written in all of opera, and one that really shouldn't be messed with. Replaying the devastating scene of Tristan being caught texting a lover, but this time without the stabbing, the consummation of their love in death might not be exactly the kind Wagner was aiming for, but it's immensely powerful nonetheless. Tristan has lost his Isolde and it feels like the end of the world. Utterly devastating, it manages to evoke the higher spiritual level of the work while simultaneously bringing it down to earth. You can't argue with the sincerity of intent nor the effectiveness with which that is achieved. Stemme and Skelton do their part to bring that about, but there are also tremendous performances from Jamie Barton as Brangäne, Josef Wagner as Kurwenal and Franz-Joseph Selig as Marke. Simon Rattle's conducting and the performance of the orchestra is also hard to fault.

Links: Festival Aix-en-Provence, ARTE Concert

Tuesday, 10 August 2021

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Munich, 2021)


Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Bayerische Staatsoper, 2021

Kirill Petrenko, Krzysztof Warlikowski, Jonas Kaufmann, Mika Kares, Anja Harteros, Wolfgang Koch, Sean Michael Plumb, Okka von der Damerau, Dean Power, Christian Rieger, Manuel Günther

Staatsoper TV Live Stream - 31 July 2021

The final production of Nikolaus Bachler’s exceptional tenure as General Manager of the Bavarian State Opera may not be a perfect send-off, but it's certainly one that typifies his time there. It's a style that is adventurous, takes chances and divides audiences, and putting Krzysztof Warlikowski on Tristan und Isolde is something of a gamble. It's not uncommon to be left confused about what is going on and what the point of a production is, but more often than not, Munich productions manage to find a way to connect with a work in new and interesting ways. Warlikowski production of Tristan und Isolde actually doesn't appear that adventurous or controversial, or at least no more absurd and bizarre than a work with magic love potions, over-fervent raptures and philosophical ideas wrapped up in flowery language.

This time it looks - as with his Don Carlos - as if Warlikowski has again run out of ideas when confronted with the big beasts of opera. On one level, Tristan und Isolde takes place mainly within the ordinary surroundings of a wood-panelled 1920s' hotel room, while on another level, projections show an alternate - perhaps heightened emotional or fantasy - playing out of events. On one level it's Christoph Loy and another it's Bill Viola, whose extraordinary art installation screens for the Paris Tristan und Isolde separated the physical or material with projections of the ecstatic spiritual heights that would otherwise be difficult to translate into purely human actions on the stage. And when music and visuals come together, this opera can certainly achieve that level of transcendence.

Warlikowski's lack of any new ideas to separate those states (and connect them) is most evident in Act II. There's a build-up here that is expressed as the secret lovers meet that demands a corresponding gradual increasing intensity of feeling before they almost dissolve in rapture, but where little happens on a dramatic level other than the inevitable release of tension - a false release - with their discovery by Marke. On the stage in this production, there's not a lot going on and little visual sign of such deep feeling as it is expressed in the music. Warlikowski takes it to the other level in the projections that show the lovers physically separate but tantalisingly close, as water rushes out beneath the bed they lie on and submerges them.

The director emphasises this separation of the world we see and the one we feel right from the start, using people dressed as dummies with no distinguishing features to stand in for Tristan and Isolde during the Vorspiel. Its not so much an idealised form as a negation of one, where the physical characteristics don't matter as much as the interior lives. Without wishing to 'body shame' any performers, there's nothing new about that idea, and opera viewers have had to use their imagination to see less than perfect human forms and shapes aspire to an image of sublime godlike perfection ever since opera was invented.

You can take this idea too far - and Warlikowski inevitably does - bringing the dummies back as a doubles for Tristan and Isolde in Act III, populating Kareol with baby Tristans who, for some obscure reason, sit around a table in the wood-panelled room setting that the director also seems to have settled upon for no discernible reason. It takes more than a few odd references and mannerisms however to hold Tristan und Isolde back from reaching its goal, and it does seem to be the case that there's no need to be hasty in judgements; you need to wait and see where this takes us, and if any work repays delayed gratification, it's surely this one.

Warlikowski, for all his mannerisms and lack of any imaginative response to Tristan und Isolde (compared for example to Simon Stone's recent production at the Aix-en Provence festival that I viewed just a week before this), does however bring out one element of the work that hadn't really struck me before. I'm not quite sure how he does it, since there is little that visually alludes to it, but between him and Jonas Kaufmann, it's possible to see the commonalities of themes in Tristan that are developed further in Parsifal. The pain of the wound, the enlightenment through pain to consider one's origins, birth and mother's suffering on the way to achieving an enlightened state. Kaufmann - and very much Harteros too - at least made it feel that there is something deeper behind the pathology of both characters in their conflation of love and death, and it has nothing to do with a magic love potion. Their love-death union is derived from an awareness of human existence and love as a path to attain spiritual bliss that can only be completely fulfilled in the union of death.

Anja Harteros in fact embodies this much better than Kaufmann. She is a fine singer and a superb actress; you can practically see the music and every emotion it provokes flow through her. Her embodiment and communication of a role I find is always unerringly accurate - or makes you believe it so - but her voice isn't always able to match the same heights, particularly in the Wagnerian range. She's good, a true artist, but just not fully up to the demands of Isolde here right across the board. Kaufmann is also very weak, struggling to gain volume over the surge of the orchestra, but he is also simply unconvincing in a role that demands total and utter commitment. Kaufmann and Harteros have been much more convincing as a duo in Verdi, in Otello, in La Forza del destino and in Giordano's Andea Chenier, but most assuredly not in their role debuts as Tristan and Isolde.

There's no question however that both give it their all and Kaufmann is actually quite impressive in the critical Act III. I thought he might hold back from the exceptional demands placed on Tristan in this Act, and holding back is not something you can do in this opera. As committed as his Act III is, and as well as it is delivered, it still seems to lack the underlying conviction, of someone dying and longing to die, but unwilling to do so while his soulmate is still alive and separated from him - on several planes of existence. It's a lack of connection to his character here that I've felt in some of Kaufmann's performances; in some it might not matter so much in some works, but in Don Carlos and in Tristan und Isolde - two of the pinnacles of opera - half-measures and almost-theres are not good enough. 

With neither Kaufmann, Harteros nor Warlikowski being entirely up to the admittedly huge task of Tristan und Isolde, Kirill Petrenko - another person who has a huge impact in making Munich one of the centres of exciting opera in Europe - has his work cut out for him. In the absence of any kind of real stirring of passion on the stage, he has to make the music do most of the work. He doesn't quite manage it and in fact, judging by the sound purely on the live stream performance, it feels like he is trying too hard. He pushes the orchestra to those extremes, trying to conjure up day and night, light and dark, but there is little on the stage to match the intent, and the work often sounds aggressive. He is of course aware of the dynamic and pace and is able to rein it in and slow it down for 'O sink hernieder, Nacht der Liebe' in Act II, before building up the rush of emotions (the preparation of lethal injections, the lovers awash in a hotel room) that is shattered by the arrival of Melot and Marke. If it's fury you want to show, this is the way to play it, but it should be disappointment and resignation, shock and disillusionment. And credit where its due, you can see it in Harteros, if nowhere else.

Think what you will of the singing and the production - and there's good support from Wolfgang Koch and Okka von der Damerau as Kurwenal and Brangäne - but there is nothing else in all opera like the Liebestod and the finale of Tristan und Isolde. It's one of the most sublime expressions of human feeling put into music or indeed any form of art, unparalleled in its capacity to reach deep inside and express something wonderfully mysterious and sublime. Despite the imperfections elsewhere, Kaufmann's final utterance of "...Isolde" and Harteros's soaring Liebestod touch on the work's extraordinary and unmatched core of emotions, the essence of life and death, of striving for a love that surpasses human boundaries and attains something spiritual and sublime. Despite the failings of the production as a whole, this moment as ever is worth waiting for. And if it still achieves its purpose, what has come before and the contributions of the performers must have succeeded on some level.

Thursday, 20 June 2019

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Brussels, 2019)



Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Brussels, 2019)

La Monnaie-De Munt, Brussels 2019

Alain Altinoglu, Ralf Pleger, Alexander Polzin, Bryan Register, Franz-Josef Selig, Ann Petersen, Andrew Foster-Williams, Nora Gubisch, Wiard Witholt, Ed Lyon

La Monnaie Streaming - May 2019


Say what you like about La Monnaie's strict policy on bold and sometimes bizarre modern productions, but they always look fantastic. And with
Alain Altinoglu currently chief musical director, they sound fantastic too. That's good news for something like Tristan und Isolde, a work that operates on an abstract plane that inspires leaps of creativity without the necessity to adhere to any kind of real world naturalism. It certainly makes a leap in this production directed by film director Ralf Pleger with set designs by artist Alexander Polzin, who rise to the challenge that few other works can aspire to with a production that really does look and sound fantastic.

The exploration of the deep mysteries of love, death and human spirituality almost calls out for an art installation presentation and lately opera houses have been turning more and more to creators in the plastic arts (and even architects in some cases) to lend their hand to representations of the human and philosophical content of Wagner operas. Tristan und Isolde has seen interpretations from Bill Viola in Paris and Anish Kapoor at the ENO in London, and there's no doubt that a work that is one of the greatest achievements of the performing arts benefits from the imagination, creativity of this kind of cross-fertilisation with other art disciplines.



There's evidently no sign of anything like a ship then in Act I of La Monnaie's Tristan und Isolde. It least follows a similar abstract approach to Pierre Audi's 2016 production of the opera at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées, with a cool green/blue colour scheme, the figures dressed in white ceremonial robes, the sky here decorated with huge icy stalactites that descend down to the stage between the figures and glow. There are a few other abstract props - Isolde appearing on the stage wearing a broken kite-like frame, but it's relatively simple in his adherence to mood, drawing the focus very firmly and effectively onto Isolde's icy fury at her captivity.

Ann Petersen carries the full drama of conflicted anger and mounting madness in that respect, the notion of death already present and associated with love in her recounting of Tristan's murder of her fiancé Morold and his supplanting himself fatally in that disturbed impressionable psyche at being held hostage in marriage to Marke. There's no need for love potions in this production to bring about the magical event of Tristan and Isolde's love, it's something that comes from within, implacably, following no logic or reason but a deep internal yearning and reaction to complex psychological disturbances, and it's enough that the music and singing carry the full weight of its conviction.

Act II is even more impressive in how it captures the complexity of those feelings that Tristan and Isolde feel for each other within a huge Alexander Polzin plaster sculpture that is surprisingly adaptable to the ebb and flow of moods and mounting desire. The sculpture takes the form of a thick mass of twisted truncated tree branches erupting out of the earth, with naked figures of dancers entwined within it. With shifts of light and use of shadows it conforms to the changing moods, primarily lust that ripples across the branches as the naked bodies weave and slide through it. Seen like this, you can't imagine Act II being done in any other way that expresses the sensations, emotions and spiritual content so perfectly.



Again, the apparent simplicity of the Act III backdrop reveals complex patterns of darkness, light and casting of shadows; black holes one minute, shafts of light the next or the suggestion of stars. The use of colour blending with the light offers infinite gradations of expression that aren't so much representational of Wagner's score as offering another dimension to its moods and sentiments. And yes, it is as abstract as that sounds, evoking a hallucinatory 'trip' according to director Ralf Pleger, where love is the drug, but should we not be looking for deeper commentary or interpretation in Tristan und Isolde?

Some directors like Dmitri Tcherniakov at Berlin in 2018 might be more interested in the dramaturgical and psychological than the spiritual and the ineffable, but that's not the case with Pleger and Polzin's vision of the work. The La Monnaie production is as enigmatic and open to personal interpretation as the work itself, operating on a level of pure sensation, caught up in the rapture of the world's greatest lovers; a love that is impossible to grasp without it completely overshadowing life, stretching beyond the boundaries of being, becoming an all-consuming self-contradictory destructive/transcendental force.



The musical and singing performances are supremely up to the greatness of the work and the stage production that has been developed for it. Ann Petersen perfectly meets the requirements of mood and character; urgent, anxious and soaringly rapturous, both human and aspiring to supra-human. Bryan Register is an impressive Tristan, unfaltering, likewise finding a perfect equilibrium between control and abandonment to the discovery of such depth of feeling and the transformative nature of that force. There are flawless performances too from Franz-Josef Selig's Marke, Andrew Foster-Williams's Kuwenal and Nora Gubisch's Brangäne.

Alain Altinoglu's conducting of the La Monnaie is also deeply impressive. I really don't think I've heard the work performed with such sensitivity and attention to detail of pace and mood, never letting the romantic surges overwhelm, but showing how they arise out of the internal and external drama, carrying the singers and the audience along, reminding you what a work of supreme beauty and genius Tristan und Isolde is. This is a spectacle and a performance befitting of one of the greatest artistic creations in any medium. Simply stunning.


Links: La Monnaie - MM Channel

Tuesday, 27 March 2018

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Berlin, 2018)



Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Berlin)

Staatsoper Unter den Linden, Berlin - 2018

Daniel Barenboim, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Andreas Schager, Stephen Milling, Anja Kampe, Boaz Daniel, Stephan Rügamer, Ekaterina Gubanova, Adam Kutny, Linard Vrielink

Culturebox - February 2018

 

Even if the setting is very different from what you might expect, and there are one or two interpolations or diversions from the script, Dmitri Tcherniakov's production of Tristan und Isolde adheres fairly closely to the original specifications in the libretto, much like his last production of a Wagner opera at the Berlin Staastoper Under den Linden, Parsifal. There's always a case to be made for a more abstract setting for both works, which operate more on a spiritual level than a geographical one, and that was certainly the case with Harry Kupfer's production which this new one replaces. Tcherniakov however seems to reject this high-flown abstraction and throw out the Schopenhauerian philosophical elements that one would think an essential element of the opera, attempting rather to bring the work firmly down to earth and see it in purely human terms.  Surely this is a mistake with a work like Tristan und Isolde?

Well, you would think so, but Tcherniakov nonetheless managed to introduce other ideas and ways of looking at Parsifal into that production, and if not quite reach the heady heights that the work can aspire to (although Daniel Barenboim, with Anja Kampe and Andreas Schager certainly helped the reach the mystical dimension of the work in the music), he did at least find an alternative and perhaps more relatably human way to address some of the questions that this work poses. The same team of Barenboim, Tcherniakov, Kampe and Schager apply a similar approach with this new Tristan und Isolde.

Act I takes place here in a wood-panelled lounge of a luxury liner, where a group of businessmen in suits sit around enjoying a few post-meeting drinks. They seem to be happy to have conducted a successful deal in Ireland, bringing back a Queen for King Marke of Cornwall. A screen shows voyage updates and video cam footage around the ship, Isolde becoming increasingly irritated as they approach the English shores. Other than the obvious modernisation of the set however, there is little that deviates (and there's little room to deviate one would think) from the original stage directions.



The one area where there is opportunity to establish a character on the work in Act I is obviously the drinking of the love potion and here Brangäne, visibly distressed at Isolde's desire to use a death potion, obviously doesn't add it to the drink, but neither does she switch it for a love potion. Sharing a hefty glass of vodka, you are left with the impression that it's just the alcohol that breaks down Tristan and Isolde inhibitions and reveals their true feelings for each other. It's hardly the most romantic depiction of the love potion scene, but there are other musical and dramatic elements at play here and Tcherniakov superimposes a brief green-tinted projection of Isolde nursing the wounded Tristan from their encounter in Ireland over the proceedings. It's not much but it does achieve the necessary background for the deep shift of overwhelming and uncontrollable desire that defies normal human boundaries.

Those boundaries however in Tcherniakov's vision remain the rather more mundane ones of middle class morality and social convention. In Act II we're in an elegant drawing room, the walls again decorated with wood panelling and images of trees and a lamp to update the original stage directions. It's the same kind of society that we see in Tcherniakov's productions of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, but here Isolde is an outsider in a world of her own, enraptured by the Goddess of Love. I don't know about Tcherniakov, but Barenboim and Kampe raise the game considerably in Act II, peaking to a fury and a force as Tristan not so much slips in to meet Isolde as practically dances in. Tcherniakov shows two people unbridled and enraptured by something greater, dancing with joy, oblivious to the world outside, giving no thought to social niceties that would restrict and bear down heavily on their illicit union.

It may take some of the spirituality and philosophical musing out of the opera, but as a reflection of how it relates to Wagner's inspiration and desires and his attempts to elevate them into something more meaningful, Tcherniakov's approach has validity and, whether you find it appropriate or not, it strips away the work's metaphysical pretensions. Tristan and Isolde's love is not some transcendence of human desire, but a defiant challenge to any kind of social convention or middle-class morality that might seek to disapprove of it or refuse to recognise the purity of feeling within it. And yet, as the green projections reappear and the "O sink hernieder" Night of Love duet establishes an otherworldly setting,you still get a sense of being in the midst of something that surpasses the mundanity of everyday existence, of something that we would all strive to be able to reach. An impossible height? Of course, but if anyone can persuade you that such a state can exist, it's in how Wagner makes the impossible possible in his music.



At the stage in Act II however the tragic crash between the ideal and reality is not yet on the radar of Tristan and Isolde or Wagner, so it's still possible to believe in the impossible and there's no need for faux-solemnity and gravity that is customary in this opera, but rather the evocation of a state of supreme sublime bliss. That element of danger crashes in by the end of Act II however, and when it does it ought to be felt viscerally. No matter what else you make of the Berlin production as a whole, it's in the musical expression and performance of those states under the direction of Daniel Barenboim that the work just soars. Barenboim's pacing and drive is superb, the score measured in mournfulness, ecstatically driven where necessary without ever being aggressive, shifting from lyrical to dramatic, from a roar to a whimper. With emphasis (at least in the mix of the streamed recording) on brass and woodwind rather than the darker strings, there is more colour given to those moods, shifting emphasis in ways I've never heard before.

Barenboim also takes care in the conducting to allow space for and support of the singing voices. Accordingly, Act III of this Tristan und Isolde is one of the most complete and impressive I've ever seen. Andreas Schager almost makes Act III look effortless, drawing on inexhaustible reserves. You might think that he is perhaps too lively for a mortally wounded man - although there is no obvious wound struck in Act II - but it's clear that if he's going to expire it's won't be from a sword wound but rather exploding with ecstasy, which indeed is more true to Tristan's fate. It's here that the director interpolates somewhat, showing Tristan lost in memories of his mother and father, or reveries even since his mother is pregnant with him in the acted-out domestic scenes that share the stage with him (and a cor anglais player) in his room on Kareol. Tcherniakov at least attempts to make something more of the words and it's certainly more thoughtful than playing the scene with him just writhing in delirium.

Whether you can rationalise it as being something to do with death and rebirth, somehow the simple image of an alarm clock and the drawing of a curtain over the little back room where the prostrate lifeless form of Tristan has been carried creates an extraordinarily effective and moving finale. I don't know if it's really within Wagner's intentions, whether it just finds another way to approach what Wagner intended, but aligned to that remarkable music, with Barenboim's conducting and Anja Kampe reaching those incredible heights, Dmitri Tcherniakov's production does seem to find its own way to capture the indescribable beauty of the sentiments of the final scene. Whatever else you might think about the production, if it gets you there and makes that kind of impact, it's done something right.

Links: Berlin Staatsoper, Culturebox

Saturday, 21 May 2016

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Champs-Elysées Paris, 2016)

Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, Paris - 2016

Daniele Gatti, Pierre Audi, Torsten Kerl, Rachel Nicholls, Steven Humes, Brett Polegato, Andrew Rees, Michelle Breedt, Marc Larcher, Francis Dudziak

Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, Paris - 15 May 2016

There wasn't much that was traditional about the setting of Pierre Audi's new production of Tristan und Isolde for the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées in Paris, but Wagner's groundbreaking opera works on a different plane from most and its internalised exploration of desire is given much better expression in its music than in its dramatic presentation. In that respect Daniele Gatti, conducting this Wagner opera for the first time, found the perfect measure of expression that complemented Audi's representation of the work's complex and sometimes contradictory themes.

In terms of its look and symbolism, the set doesn't appear particularly new or inspired. Instead of a ship in Act I we get large upright panels that vaguely give the impression of a ship's hull. The panels move around the stage to set up barriers, create divisions, opening up and closing down spaces. Instead of a tower, Act II features the huge curved ribs of a leviathan that rise out of the stage, creating wishbone-like formations around a framework that is covered to look like a black standing stone. For the island of Kareol in Act III, the wounded, dying Tristan agonises in a dark box with a mirrored background that opens up to let in the light during Isolde's transfiguration.

Principally however, the expression of the set reflects the work's play of darkness and light. The background is a Robert Wilson-like wall of gradiated light that is partially eclipsed at various points in each of the three acts by one or two large black squares. You can take these as representations of Tristan and Isolde, or view them in the abstract as black hole of all-consuming desire, but its bold symbolism is in accordance with the nature of the work and its themes. The more nuanced levels of the work and the contradictory clashes between life and death in Wagner's Romantic application of the Schopenhauer-influenced meditations are however also played out in more subtle lighting effects.



Mostly however, its the music that carries the weight of all these themes and whether it's Gatti's conducting, the playing of the orchestra or the acoustics of the venue (having encountered none of them together live in this theatre before), but the richness of sound in this performance was incredible. All the detail in the score was brought out with delicacy and precision, and with Wagner and this opera in particular there's a wealth of detail that can be coaxed out if it isn't allowed to be smothered in heavy orchestration. Gatti's pace was perfectly measured to draw every ounce of emotion out of the score, having a lightness of touch, but swelling up into great surges of pure overwhelming desire.

As important as this aspect is it needs to work with everything else around it, and there was a feeling that director, conductor and singers - not to mention lighting that was as important to the overall mood as anything else - were all working to a common purpose. The production, the singing, the measured delivery of the music all remained within that all-important space in Tristan und Isolde between emotionally-charged and overbearing. If one element threatened to take things too far, another would balance it out.

In particular the casting for the singing seemed well-judged for the size of the theatre as well as for the mood and tone that was being pitched. Torsten Kerl's heroic tenor is a little more hard-edged than the usual Romantic Tristan, his voice not a particularly large one either in Act I, but that's understandable at this stage as that voice has a long way to go yet. By Act II and Act III however, I found that I didn't even notice that it was Torsten Kerl, but just that it was Tristan in the throes of unbearable longing. Replacing the originally scheduled Emily Magee, Rachel Nicholls' wasn't a typical Isolde either, her voice softer and more lyrical, her passions more gently expressed, going more with the flow of the production rather than fighting to rise above it. In this case, that approach worked very well, and you can imagine how gorgeous their Nachtgesang was.



Steven Humes was similarly a more restrained King Marke than you more commonly find, his voice well suited to his more forgiving nature here. Less transported by their desires (although desire exists in some form in all of the characters) or perhaps struggling with them more since their master's have abandoned themselves to their sentiments, Michelle Breedt's Brangäne and Brett Polegato's Kurwenal were rather more emotionally driven, both singers making a great impression, balancing out the range of expression. At the conclusion Nicholls' Isolde delivered a Liebestod that accordingly felt like less of a mountain for the soprano to climb than a gentle submission and surrender to the extraordinary forces that had been generated, the music then gently dissipating and evaporating in pure sublimation into the aether.

Links: Théâtre des Champs-Elysées

Thursday, 10 September 2015

Wagner - The Bayreuth Edition (Blu-ray)

Richard Wagner - The Bayreuth Edition

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2008-2014

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, Tristan und Isolde, Die Walküre, Lohengrin, Der fliegende Holländer, Tannhäuser

Opus Arte - Blu-ray

Productions of Richard Wagner's operas at Bayreuth (and elsewhere) will undoubtedly continue to find new areas to explore, remain inventive, generate discussion and stir up controversy for centuries to come. It will be interesting however to see how future audiences will come to look on the rather distinct period that is documented in this Bayreuth Edition of works during the controversial era of the directorship of the composer's great grand-daughters, Eva Wagner-Pasquier and her half-sister Katharina Wagner.

Germany undoubtedly led the way in the dominance in Europe of what would become known as "Regietheater", where director's own personal and modern interpretations, revisions and re-imaginings of familiar traditional stagings would be considered by many to impose their vision and intentions above those of the original composer. One might have expected a more reverential approach at Bayreuth, particularly since directorship of the annual festival in the theatre custom designed and built by Richard Wagner himself remains in family hands. If anything however Bayreuth's treatment of Wagner's legacy has been taken to even greater extremes.



Wagner's exhortation "Kinder, schafft Neues" ('Children, create something new') has perhaps been over-used and abused to some extent to permit some wild indulgences, but interpretation has always been essential to musical performance and musical drama. It's why opera has continually evolved and not remained confined to theatres with its performers constrained by dusty costumes, armoured breastplates and helmets. The Bayreuth ideology holds to this principle in keeping Wagner, his music, his philosophy, and yes even his flaws and problems, continually revised, updated and explored for the deeper universal meaning within them. It's one way of ensuring that those works remain relevant today and not age as much as bad costumes, cheap painted backdrops and barked delivery.

As some of the greatest works of opera ever written, some of which will surely never be surpassed, Wagner's music dramas are capable of revealing contradictory and complex ideas that work on a multitude of levels. It would be a disservice to treat them as anything less than living, breathing art, and more than just generate controversy, the stewardship of Bayreuth during the period 2008 - 2014 has undoubtedly provoked much discussion and re-evaluation of these great works. Some have been more innovative and successful than others, but unquestionably the works have done much to revitalise an institution that Tom Service described in 2006 as "a byword for conservatism and fossilised values". Most importantly, what they've done is drawn attention back to what Wagner's operas mean and how they are still relevant to the 21st century.



It wouldn't be unfair however to say that the new regime at Bayreuth got off to a shaky start. Taking over directorship of the festival from her father Wolfgang Wagner, Katharina Wagner's first production of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (2008) caused something of a stir. As a key Wagner work, since it is about the balance of respecting tradition and 'making anew', the production also proved to be something of a bold statement of intent. As Klaus Florian Vogt's Walther von Stolzing scrawls and spills white paint over every object and person on the stage, the balance would appear to be heavily skewed towards the irreverence for the old ways, almost to the point of anarchically destroying the past in order to make anew. Franz Hawlata's Hans Sachs is good, Michael Volle is a blistering Beckmesser and Michaela Kaune a soaring Eva, but although the musical performance is robust and has moments of beauty and warms up in the final act, overall the production fails to find the richness, warmth, humour and humanity at the heart of the work.

Tankred Dorst's 2006 Ring cycle pre-dated the changeover, but it remained in place through the larger part of the period that the festival was under the directorship of Wagner's great-granddaughters. The only part of the cycle to see a video release was a 2010 performance of Die Walküre. It's not terribly impressive, looking largely traditional in the main but for some odd directing choices and, since the rest of the cycle is not available to make sense of them, some obscure concepts bolted on. Musically, it's forcefully conducted by Christian Thielemann and there are some good singing performances from a gorgeously lyrical Johan Botha as Siegmund, Edith Haller as Sieglinde and Kwangchul Youn as Hunding. Albert Dohmen and Linda Watson however make unconvincing father/daughter relationship as Wotan and Brünnhilde.

Since Tristan und Isolde is a fairly conceptual work in the first place, the main thrust of the work taking place on a philosophical and spiritual plane, there's licence to deviate from the earthly locations in the libretto. Even so, Christoph Marthaler's production recorded at the 2009 festival is extravagantly eccentric in mannerisms and staging. Randomly set on what looks to be a 1930s cruise liner, the three acts are layered one on top of the other on rising tiered sets. It's hard not to be entranced however by the production or moved by the sheer power of the work, which is given a fine account under the baton of Peter Schneider, and there are compelling central performances from Iréne Theorin and Robert Dean Smith.



For pushing the conceptual to extremes in its exploration of the works themes and where they stand today, it's hard to imagine any idea more bizarre than setting Lohengrin as a laboratory experiment using rats. As strange as it might seem there are nonetheless rather more bewildering productions of Wagner out there (and in Bayreuth) and Hans Neuenfel's production, recorded here at the 2011 festival, meaningfully explores some problematic areas of Wagner's historical view of society. Some of the divisions are rather simplistically drawn however, the conclusions are unconvincing and it often looks very silly indeed, but there are good performances from Georg Zeppenfeld, Klaus Florian Vogt and Petra Lang (one of the truly great Ortruds I've seen). There's a fine musical performance conducted by Andris Nelsons, even if it doesn't really complement the stage production.

With a cyborg Dutchman on a data information sea, it's initially difficult to understand the purpose of Jan Philipp Gloger's concept for the 2012 production of Der fliegende Holländer. It soon becomes clear in this 2013 recording of the production that there's clear adherence to the dramatic and mythological strengths of the work and a superb performance of the "joined-up" version of the three-act opera conducted by Christian Thielemann. Broadly speaking it views the work in the context of the incompatibility and conflict between love and business, a subject that plagued Wagner most of his life. Without belittling the importance of Wagner's view of mythology it manages to bring it back to human terms without losing any of the grandeur of the work. Ricarda Merbeth is outstanding as Senta, Franz-Josef Selig a solid Daland and Benjamin Bruns a bright, golden-voiced Steersman. The choral work too - so important to this work - is impressive.

The abstract conceptual clearly dominates in the Bayreuth 2014 Tannhäuser with a stage set constructed out of a number of art installations that were never created with Wagner's opera in mind, but the pieces by Joep van Lieshout do form an interesting if imperfect dialectic with Wagner's work. Director Sebastian Baumgarten follows a similar path to Hans Neuenfels' Lohengrin for Bayreuth, viewing the work as a model of society, taking in Wagner's perspective and extending it to a more modern outlook. Whatever you make of the stage production, musically it's a glorious affair, conductor Alex Kober drawing out the true delicacy and poignancy within the work. There's not a trace of heavy-handedness, yet all the force and dynamic of the work is all there. Camilla Nylund's Elisabeth matches the Romantic delicacy of the work perfectly while Torsten Kerl balances well the more dynamic character of Tannhäuser.

All previously released on Blu-ray, the presentation of each of the six productions in the 8-disc Bayreuth Edition (12 discs on DVD) is simply superb. The quality of the image and the high-definition uncompressed surround mixes of the performances are just incredible. Each of the discs contains a making of feature and interviews that explore the productions, the concepts and all the back-stage preparations. More detail on individual discs can be found by following the above links.