Glanert - Oceane (Berlin, 2019)

Detlev Glanert - Oceane

Deutsche Oper Berlin, 2019

Donald Runnicles, Robert Carsen, Maria Bengtsson, Nikolai Schukoff, Nicole Haslett, Christoph Pohl, Albert Pesendorfer, Stephen Brook, Doris Soffel

Deutsche Oper Berlin - 3rd May 2019

Composed for the bicentenary of the birth of celebrated German poet Theodor Fontane, the intention of composer Detlev Glanert for Oceane would seem to be principally to do justice to the original author's work. That in itself is a challenge however because the opera is based on only a fragment of a novella left by Fontane, Oceane von Parceval written in the 1880s, that was left unfinished. With a sympathetic production by Robert Carsen it has to be said that Glanert largely succeeds in meeting those intentions, but whether the opera seeks to find any wider application or breaks any new ground as far as contemporary opera is concerned, that's not immediately evident.

Whether the fragment is unfinished or only a sketch, the basic underlying plot of Oceane van Parceval is a familiar one and not greatly substantial. It's another telling of the Melusine legend that can be seen in various incarnations in Rusalka, Undine and even the movies Splash and The Little Mermaid. For Fontane the consideration of a child of nature out of step with the ways of the modern world, or indeed the modern world's detachment from its true essential nature, could have been related to political events in the imperfect foundations of the German Empire at the time of its writing (something Wagner might also have had in mind during the writing of the Der Ring des Nibelungen, a feature of the Leipzig Ring Cycle seen around this performance), but the subject is still something that we can surely still relate to today.

With only a fragment to work with, Glanert has little else to go on. As far the story goes, it's set in a seaside town hotel that has seen better days. Madame Louise welcomes her guests for the new summer season with some optimism that a wealthy benefactor might help restore the hotel's fortunes. She's counting on the landowner Martin von Dircksen, but she also has set some hopes on Oceane von Parceval, who is something of an unknown factor.

Oceane's mysterious manner and behaviour also intrigue Martin von Dircksen, the young man so bewitched by this magical creature that he is blind to the scandal she is causing among the guests. It's not just that she dances lasciviously and with no inhibitions, to the horror of the pastor staying at the hotel, but her outbursts and silences are also enigmatic. Most strangely of all, she doesn't seem to react to the discovery of a dead fisherman found on the beach. Martin however is oblivious to her failings to fit in with the expectations of the rest of the world.

It's all very straightforward and there's nothing complicated or surprising about the developments in Oceane when Martin determines that he will marry this strange creature only to find that they are not at all compatible. Glanert makes this incompatibility apparent through conventional musical means, using only high and low notes to express the wild character dynamic of Oceane, while Martin is all middle-register, safe and comfortable, unimaginative and unexciting, with no depth of character. Glanert also looks back at his previous opera Solaris for the otherworldly choruses that open the opera, communicating in a language that is beyond human understanding.

Glanert complicates matters for the listener however by mixing these character details with traditional musical forms, the little band at the hotel playing a series of dances, a polka, a waltz, a galop, which the characters sing over. Mostly however this is confined to Martin's friend, Dr Albert Felgentrau a tutor in science, and Oceane's chaperone Kristina as the two of them also pair up as a couple on the holiday. With a priest, a landowner, a businesswoman and a scientist, all of them contrary to the nature of Oceane, there's a lot of character detail and conflict to take in in the first three scenes.

In the second half of the work however, the opera takes shape and establishes its own character. The flow of the sea and the stirring up of waves in a storm becomes an important musical as well as visual reference for the power of nature and the danger of any attempts to master it, control it, or deny it. Martin's declaration to Oceane on the beach is beautiful, making it all the more tragic that he doesn't understand what he is dealing with and is completely blind to the reality of who Oceane is.

Glanert succeeds very much in fleshing out the characters with this kind of musical detail, and Robert Carsen's simple but elegant black-and-white designs with projections of the sea catch the mood of the piece well, but the period costumes and moral outlook remain confined very much to a specific time and place. If the conclusion builds up forcefully to a dramatic conclusion where society cruelly denounces Oceane, who would seem to have done little to offend anyone by today's standards, it is nonetheless a reflection of a deeper truth, and - even if it's not made explicit - we can recognise how much greater a distance we are from respecting nature today.

The world premiere performances of Oceane at the Deutsche Oper Berlin were conducted by Donald Runnicles, capturing the mood and dynamic arc of the work from conflicting tones of the first half, though the flowing romanticism of the second half to the thundering conclusion. Soprano Maria Bengtsson impressively handled the difficult challenge of expressing the inhuman or uncivilised side of Oceane, but all the roles were exceptionally well taken. Nikolai Schukoff was so good he was surely too sympathetic to be Martin, but there is actually nothing wrong with the landowner other than his shallowness and incompatibility for Oceane.

There were notable performances also from Nicole Haslett as the bubbly Kristina and Christoph Pohl as the serious Albert. Again there was perhaps more character detail than was strictly necessary for the other representatives of society that react against Oceane, but they were well sung by Albert Pesendorfer as the Pastor and Stephen Brook as George, the maitre d'. I'm not sure that Doris Soffel is still up to the demands of Wagner and Strauss, but is still a force to be reckoned with in a role like Madame Louise, and was warmly received by the Berlin audience at the curtain call.

Links: Deutsche Oper Berlin

Wagner - Parsifal

Richard Wagner - Parsifal

Deutsche Oper, Berlin 2012

Donald Runnicles, Philipp Stölzl, Mara Kurotschka, Alejandro Marco-Buhrmester, Albert Pesendorfer, Matti Salminen, Klaus Florian Vogt, Thomas Jesatko, Evelyn Herlitzius, Burkhard Ulrich, Andrew Harris, Kim-Lilian Strebel, Annie Rosen, Paul Kaufmann, Matthew Pena, Hulkar Sabirova, Martina Welschenbach, Rachel Hauge, Hila Fahima, Annie Rosen, Dana Beth Miller

25 October 2012

Director Philipp Stölzl’s approach to the Deutsche Oper’s new 2012/13 production of Parsifal in Berlin is immediately and firmly established by the extraordinary setting for the work’s Overture. On a rocky recreation of Golgotha, Christ hangs from a cross in a meticulously detailed tableau vivant representation of the Crucifixion. Surrounded by onlookers freeze-framed in various states of anguish and despair, with Roman soldiers guarding the area, one significantly (as far as this opera is concerned) with a lance, the figures move in slow motion as Christ dies on the cross during the length of the overture, his side is pierced by the soldier’s spear and the blood that runs from it is caught in the chalice and respectfully coveted by his followers. It’s a powerful way to start a performance of this work, and when you have as beautiful a piece of music as the Overture to Parsifal, why waste it on something less than monumental? Solemn, respectful and dignified, the scene is however also completely relevant to the opera’s Passion play exploration of suffering and redemption through death and rebirth and appropriate in how those concepts are tied up by Wagner into the symbolic images of the Lance and the Holy Grail.

Any performance of Wagner’s remarkable final work should indeed be something of a spiritual experience over the course of its four and a half hour length, but there was a sense that Philipp Stölzl’s production here (co-directed by Mara Kurotschka) was perhaps a little too solemn and reverential - or perhaps somewhat too grandiose - to really touch on the transcendental elements of the work. If there’s a touch of kitsch to the production - something characteristic of this director - it’s appropriate to one where the iconography and glorification of Christ’s passion adheres to a certain Catholic tradition. You don’t need to look too far beyond the condition of Amfortas - the Knight of the Holy Grail in agony from a perpetual wound caused by the lance, his suffering deepened by each display of the Holy Grail that gives sustenance and renewed vigour to its followers - to recognise that it’s the question of suffering that is central to the work in how it can be a redemptive force. There was certainly plenty of pain on display in the Deutsche Oper’s new production - the opera house celebrating its 100th anniversary - but little sense of it leading to any kind of transcendental enlightenment.

Despite the prettification of the visuals, every ounce of the earth-shattering, curtain-tearing pain depicted in Christ’s Crucifixion and the despair in the faces of his followers (most notably in one Mary Magdalene/Kundry figure at the margins) is there in the opening scene and retained to be built upon by the events recounted by Gurnemanz and enacted in Parsifal’s journey to recover the Holy Spear from the hands of Klingsor. Stölzl recognises that all that suffering shown in the opening scene is going to be caught up in the musical themes established by Wagner in the Overture, and it consequently becomes impossible to disassociate the suffering of Christ himself every time those leitmotifs swirl and swell throughout the remainder of the work. And just in case the musical expression isn’t powerful enough (and under the baton of Donald Runnicles it often was, even if lacked any real character or vision), the director also uses every visual element to emphasise and add to the near overwhelming display of agony and despair.

That can be as simple as the Monsalvat set design sharing many of the rocky structures and contours of the opening Golgotha scene, but the subsequent scenes also reflect the opening, being mostly static in arrangement, each scene like a 3-dimensional engraving of one of the Stations of the Cross, a single image frieze set in slow motion movement. The set designs by Conrad Moritz Reinhardt and Stölzl moreover allow every element of the work to be examined in detail and every character to be explored for their own personal suffering that contributes to the collective pain. Even every element of the backstory narrated at length by Gurnemanz is depicted visually in mini scenes, as beautifully arranged and brutal as a Caravaggio painting, that are played out in the background on the tops of rocky outcrops. This production of Parsifal is as visually striking as previous Stölzl productions I’ve seen (Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini and most notably his production of Wagner’s Rienzi, also for the Deutsche Oper), beautifully arranged, lit and coloured, more than a little kitsch but - within its own designs - it’s also much more respectfully faithful here to the tone of the work in question.

It’s actually perhaps a little too literal and respectful for a work that should also have a life in a spiritual dimension. (That might sound like a pretentious statement for any other work, but not for this one). There’s no doubt that this production - musically as well as visually and conceptually - is completely faithful to the spirit of the work, but it never seems to get beyond it to illuminate or elevate the underlying meaning. That’s evidently a tall order for a work that is wrapped up in Wagner’s complex and contradictory ideas and philosophies, but while Stölzl’s production is not without its own personal touches in its examination of these concepts, they don’t really amount to much and don’t resolve into any kind of satisfactory conclusion. The confusion is best exemplified within the role of Amfortas - the Christ figure of the work - who is not healed by the lance at the end here, but allowed to escape from his pain through death at its touch. This perhaps relates to the very specific Good Friday notions of death and rebirth in a work that the composer described as a Bühnenweihfestspiel - “A Festival Play for the Consecration of the Stage” - but quite where the necessary rebirth/transcendence is supposed to come from is less than clear. There is a suggestion however that the key to this interpretation could lie within the figure of Kundry.

More so than Parsifal or Amfortas, or even Gurnemanz, the focus in this production is very much on that contradictory element of Kundry, whose role is one of the ambiguities that the work principally revolves around - the saint and the sinner, the serpent and the agent of salvation. In this production she’s there at the crucifixion in the guise of Mary Magdalene, and is therefore the single element of continuity (other than the Grail and the Lance) that runs through the whole work, appearing in Gurnemanz’s backstory, being instrumental in bringing about Parsifal’s self-enlightenment, and in the end recognising her role to serve the new protector of the Grail. Here however, in the very final scene of the production, she seems to become terrified of the prospect of the worship and power that this inspires in Parsifal and the Grail’s followers, and where such Christian fervour might lead - a reference perhaps to future religious conflicts or perhaps, since it now seems almost obligatory to acknowledge in a Wagner opera, a premonitory vision of the rise of Nazism. As depicted by Evelyn Herlitzius in the role, Kundry remains a (female) figure of considerable interest and ambiguity, but quite how it all ties together must - perhaps necessarily considering the nature of the work - remain a mystery.

If the work never comes together musically or conceptually in a way that entirely lives up to the proposal put forward in the audacious opening scene, it’s through no fault of the singing performances. Now 67, Matti Salminen was simply superb, fulfilling everything that is required of a Gurnemanz, his deep, beautifully weighted sonorous tones providing the solid basis and solemn gravity that anchors the work in the real world while simultaneously hinting at timeless mysteries. One would think that Klaus Florian Vogt’s light lyrical tenor voice would not be as well suited to the Heldentenor role of Parsifal as it is to his angelic Lohengrin (even though the two characters are mythologically related), but yet again he brings another vocal dimension to a familiar role, demonstrating a capability of pulling those deeper resonant chest sounds out where necessary - such as in his cry of ‘Amfortas!’ at the recognition scene of the meaning of pain, suffering and love - and filling them with an expressive lightness and sensitivity. Dramatically however and in expression of his character, he was given little to work with by the director. Evelyn Herlitzius on the other hand had a rather more substantial personality as this production’s Kundry and rose to the challenge exceptionally well, emoting and projecting the sentiments of the work through some fine singing. Alejandro Marco-Buhrmester (Amfortas), Albert Pesendorfer (Titurel) and Thomas Jesatko (Klingsor) were more than adequate if they didn’t make quite as much of an impression as the principal roles, but there was also some lovely singing from the three Flowermaidens.

Wagner - Götterdämmerung (Bayreuth, 2016)

Richard Wagner - Götterdämmerung

Bayreuth, 2016

Marek Janowski, Frank Castorf, Stefan Vinke, Markus Eiche, Albert Dohmen, Albert Pesendorfer, Catherine Foster, Allison Oakes, Marina Prudenskaya, Wiebke Lehmkuhl, Stephanie Houtzeel, Christiane Kohl, Alexandra Steiner

Sky Arts - 31 July 2016

You couldn't by any stretch of the imagination ever call Götterdämmerung anti-climatic. As the final part of one of the most ambitious works of opera ever written Götterdämmerung is nothing but climatic on an epic scale, but it can still often feel like a bit of a chore to sit through after the long haul of Siegfried. As controversial and divisive as Frank Castorf's Bayreuth Ring production has been, the prospect of this Götterdämmerung however is an intriguing one. If the finale of Siegfried is anything to go by, you know it certainly won't be climatic in the conventional sense, but it's certain to have many more surprises and insights into the Ring as a whole.

And sure enough, straight from the first scene, the three Norn maidens are not terribly mystical agents of time and wisdom, but Macbeth-like witches dressed like bag-ladies. Back in what seems to be Castorf's East Germany, the Norn ladies cast spells and spin visions at the back lot of a tenement block, just around the corner from Hagen's Gibichung-managed kebab emporium. It's wonderfully sinister and atmospheric at the same time however, as it perhaps can't help but be with Wagner's writing at its most ingenuous and musically creative. Bringing the gods down to earth - established in Das Rheingold as much as in Die Walküre - is again to the fore in Götterdämmerung, as of course is the famous climax that we are heading towards.

It's in this down-to-earth place that we also find Brünnhilde and Siegfried. Traditionally legends perched on a rock surrounded by fire, they are depicted here sitting on a bench outside a mobile home like an ordinary couple. And as far as love, jealousy and betrayal are concerned, they are an ordinary couple, much like Wotan and Fricka in Die Walküre, with the same balance of power, authority and propensity towards infidelity. If they have extraordinary powers of Wagnerian proportions, it's the Tristan und Isolde-like power of love that makes this pair giants. There's no need for mythologising as far as the production is concerned. The audience need to be fully cognisant of the realities involved and danger that can be caused by ordinary people wielding extraordinary power - particularly the power of love - and the kind of devastating damage they are capable of inflicting upon others.

The characterisation of Siegfried established in the previous evening's opera is carried through to its natural conclusion in this regard in this Götterdämmerung. He's still new to these emotions, he's somewhat undeveloped because of his sheltered upbringing, and doesn't have real experience of the world or women. As he demonstrated in Siegfried though with the reforging of Nothung however, he's a fast learner. How many politicians in the world today, people with power 'out of touch with the electorate' display the same characteristics? If there's any one message to take away from Castorf's specific reading of the Ring, it's this; beware of those on whom we confer power believing them to be better than ourselves and capable of wisely exercising such power on our behalf - they are mortal and as prone to human weakness and failings as you or I.

Brünnhilde's outlook is no more mature than Siegfried's in this new relationship. A scene as simple as the disgraced Valkyrie waving the Ring under the nose of her sister Waltraute to make her jealous is amusing, but it ties into the deeper forces that are in action and in conflict with one another. This "pledge of love", this little piece of bling, is her slice of power and to her it is worth "more than the heaven of Valhalla, more than the glory of the gods". All of us will pay the price for such delusions and displays of pride, and by setting this scene to Waltraute's warnings of the approaching crisis, Wagner highlights them all the more forcefully.

As does the director in his management of this and other such scenes and confrontations. True to form, the conclusion indeed fails to 'ignite' in a familiar fashion as Castorf prefers to keep things 'real-world', throwing out more references to oil (the black gold), to East Germany and to the New York Stock Exchange without making any attempt to join it all up in a bombastic or overly simplistic message. To be honest however, while Castorf fully explores Götterdämmerung as much as the other parts of the Ring and presents those ideas in a fashion that is much more fun and diverting than most other representations, a large part of the success of this work, for the still extraordinary force of the conclusion and for the success of the entire production as a whole, has much to do with the quality of the musical and the singing performances.

It was interesting to hear Marek Janowski speaking before the Sky Arts broadcast of the performance and admitting that he pays absolutely no attention to the stage direction. You would think that ideally a successful production of the Ring would need those two elements working hand in hand, but Janowski's own sense of dramaturgy in the music is just fabulous and speaks for itself. The fact that Casforf has a strong sense of dramaturgy too is a bonus, and even if the two views might not coincide, both in their own way connect with the essence of Wagner's intentions. This Götterdämmerung is consequently one heck of a ride.

The singing also holds up to the extreme challenges of the final installment of the Ring cycle. We don't have John Lundgren's superb Wotan as a firm foundation in this work, and Stefan Vinke's Siegfried is perhaps not as big a personality or a voice to replace him, but the tenor manages well nonetheless in a work that has slain many lesser Siegfrieds. Catherine Foster however remains a dramatic and strongly characterised Brünnhilde, one with real personality and tenderness, who remains sympathetic through the dark machinations of the Hagen-plotted Gibichung drama. Her delivery of the final scene, in conjunction with Janowski's conducting and Castorf's direction, is extraordinarily good and intensely moving. Marina Prudenskaya also puts in an intense and touching performance as Waltraude as does Marcus Eiche in a surprisingly sensitive Gunther, but there are no weaknesses in any of the roles here.

Regardless of what you feel about Frank Castorf's production of the Bayreuth Ring, it's one that likely won't be forgotten soon. I would go further and say that it's one that I'm sure will set a new benchmark standard that subsequent cycles will find hard to match. Aside from the sheer spectacle of the sets and the fine musical and singing performances, there is a deep exploration of the work here that applies many of its principal themes to relevant contemporary issues and concerns. A more minimal or 'straight' version that isn't able to offer as thorough an exploration/dissection/deconstruction of the work and doesn't continue to inventively apply its real-world message to the rapidly changing circumstances of our world today will undoubtedly find this a hard act to follow.

Links: Bayreuth Festival