Puccini - Turandot (Paris, 2023)

Giacomo Puccini - Turandot

Opéra National de Paris, 2023

Marco Armiliato, Robert Wilson, Iréne Theorin, Brian Jagde, Ermonela Jaho, Carlo Bosi, Mika Kares, Florent Mbia, Maciej Kwaśnikowski, Nicholas Jones, Guilhem Worms, Hyun-Jong Roh, Pranvera Lehnert, Izabella Wnorowska-Pluchart

Paris Opera Play - 13th November 2023

Such is the very distinct character and experience of a Robert Wilson production that you imagine that it can't be suitable for every kind of opera, but it's not such an easy thing to fit that into clear dividing lines, and where the line does fall is of course going to be be subjective. You would think that it would be better suited to more abstract work like Einstein on the Beach, where he first made his mark in the world of opera as co-creator with Philip Glass, or Pelléas et Mélisande and the spiritual content of Arvo Pärt's Adam's Passion but his style also seems to chime with baroque very well (Gluck and Handel), except when it doesn't (Monteverdi). You couldn't see his coolness work with the beautiful warm humanity of Mozart, but who knows? I would love to see him direct a Die Zauberflöte, and could someone commission a Robert Wilson Ring Cycle please?...

I wasn't convinced either by his work on Verdi's Aida, even though it looked stunning on the stage, and I was surprisingly impressed with his take on the high drama of the French version of Il Trovatore, so it's not so clear cut. Puccini is another that it's hard to imagine Robert Wilson being suited, but we have already seen Madama Butterfly and this Turandot (seen previously in Madrid) prove otherwise. In the case of Turandot, now playing in Paris and available to view in a brief window though their Paris Opera Play service, the reasons are worth exploring again, although Puccini's opera, the cast here and the spectacle of a Wilson production are reason enough to watch this again.

Like any good opera production its success relies on how well it works with the score and the intent of the opera. That doesn't necessarily mean that the direction has to be sympathetic towards the original intentions of the work (few if any productions match to the letter or even closely adhere to stage directions nowadays), nor even in matching or working with the tone of the music score. There can be as much of interest in contrasting the heat and passion of a music score with a coolness in the direction as a means to examine the potential of a work and perhaps illustrate an hitherto unexplored aspect of a work. I'm not saying that Wilson does this in the case of Turandot, but he certainly brings an uncommon and you would think counterintuitive approach to Puccini's final unfinished masterpiece.

There actually is a cold menace at the heart of this dark fairytale with its authoritarian regime ruled with cruel laws, and that is reflected in the sinister undercurrents of Puccini's score. Calixto Bieito showed one way of bringing that aspect out in his production, but Wilson shows that there is more than one way, and it is if course in his own very distinctive way. The restricted highly controlled movements of the cast, the darkness of moving black panels blotting out the light at the back of the stage instead of thunderclouds. The situation is not natural, so Wilson doesn't resort to natural phenomena for this. When something of nature does appear, such as a bird a stork making a flight across the sky during the mourning of the latest victim to lose his pale bloodless head, it's in response to the sorrowful warmth of the score. Even the bird's movements however are Wilson stylised.

Where Wilson best serves Turandot is in the epic fantasy of the fairytale, not making it a colourful exotic drama (like Andrei Serban at the ROH), but a colourful spectacle of a different hue nonetheless, working primarily with light. It's a superb match for the huge orchestration, the limited movements providing counterpoint rather than a conventional illustrative decoration. It also has the effect of simply gluing you the visuals, really connecting with them, even if they seem occasionally jarring and disruptive to the tone at times with bizarre comedy characters (not just Ping, Pang and Pong). It's visually stunning and despite the impression of it being static there is always something happening, even if it's just the fading and brightening of the light adjusting the whole appearance of a scene.

Credit to conductor Marco Armiliato for matching the lushness of the score with the intent of stage production, rather than feeling a need to present a cold and clinical reading, which would be a disservice to Wilson and Puccini. It's majestic. There are serious singing challenges in this Puccini opera without having to adopt unnatural posture and deliver gestures in the Robert Wilson fashion. Although rightly celebrated for her Puccini roles as Madama Butterfly and Suor Angelica, Liù appears to be less comfortable range for Ermonela Jaho. Iréne Theorin is also a little bit strained here. She's an excellent powerhouse Wagnerian, somewhat inconsistent, but is gloriously imperious in the final scene confronting Liù and Calaf. Turandot is not a large role but it is a very challenging one. Brian Jagde is a fine Decent Calaf, and soars through 'Nessun dorma'. Carlo Bosi is very capable for the role of the old man Altoum.

Whether Turandot has something deeper political to say about love being the answer that will topple a totalitarian regime is debatable, although in its unfinished form without resolution Calixto Bieito certainly made a convincing case for it being a powerful critique of the crushing boot of fascism, but the inherent power of the work, whether for its depiction of a reign of terror or its belief in the healing power of love, is undeniable. His mannerisms will irritate some but the power of Robert Wilson's distinctive vision for this and for the world of opera can't be denied. His Turandot is spectacular, unlike anything else, capturing the otherworldly quality of Puccini’s fairy tale opera, its power, its majesty, and its beauty as a final unfinished testament from this composer.

External links: Opéra National de Paris, Paris Opera Play

Photo credits: Agathe Poupeney / Opéra national de Paris

Wagner - Götterdämmerung (Bayreuth, 2022)

Richard Wagner - Götterdämmerung

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2022

Valentin Schwarz, Cornelius Meister, Clay Hilley, Michael Kupfer-Radecky, Olafur Sigurdarson, Albert Dohmen, Iréne Theorin, Elisabeth Teige, Christa Mayer

BR-Klassik streaming - 5th August 2022

It's hard to judge a concept for an entire Ring cycle on one standalone part of the tetralogy, but particularly when you are presented - as those are who are unable to make/afford the journey to Bayreuth - with a streamed broadcast of Götterdämmerung alone. And yet, in some ways that makes it more interesting, forcing you to think about past productions of this opera and the Ring and consider where this one is coming from in relation to those, as well if course in relation to Wagner's intentions. There's also the fact that this production met with the usual ignorant boorish heckling from sections of the audience (why do they even go to Bayreuth?) unwilling to put their prejudices and old CD and vinyl recordings aside and see the work in a fresh new interpretation. That's what Bayreuth is about; sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't but it's essential to keep revitalising and renewing the works of Richard Wagner.

Having said that - and with the caveat that I haven't seen the other three parts - Valentin Schwarz's concept for this production does seem like a bit of a mess that doesn't really hold together. As a basic premise to cover the entire cycle, the general idea here is to present Das Ring des Nibelungen as a Netflix serial, a saga of family ambition, conflict and dysfunction very much in the style of Succession. You can see why traditionalists would hate it. The prelude of Götterdämmerung reveals Brünnhilde and Siegfried in a spacious, modern if modestly furnished abode. In this production, they even have a child here who is assailed by nightmares of his/her unconventional upbringing and background. No doubt fuelled with such horrors in the past, figures of faceless Norns appear here as a nightmare with their threats of dire foreboding. Waking up, the child's parents launch right into their longstanding disputes and differences at the turn their relationship has taken.

The Ring operas are very much about family and power struggles within it, as I'm sure this Bayreuth cycle emphasised this in earlier family disputes between Wotan and Fricke, between Wotan and Brünnhilde, between Sieglinde and Hunding (basically all of Die Walküre) but also between Siegfried and Mime. If the idea of money/gold/power hasn't already been established in Das Rheingold, it is the clear theme that runs through this production and leads to what we know will be a mighty fall of the great and not so good. What Schwarz also intends to introduce here as a further element to highlight the struggles for power is inheritance - one that has relevance through Wotan's line, Alberich's descendants and the Gibichung line. In this production the child is even used as a substitute for the ring, the 'ring' in a way being a cycle of inheritance and succession. 

Or so it seems. The Ring operas however are wide and extensive enough to be able to support not just this, but many other matters that are still relevant and universal. Frank Castorf made much (some might say too much) of this in the last Bayreuth Ring cycle, and in Schwarz's production you can also see the impact this family has not just in destroying themselves, but destroying the world. There's a hint of this in the Norn's warning that we are probably too late to avert the damage that has been done to the ecosystem (world ash tree). And if Castorf's interpretation of the Ring emphasised the damage inflicted upon the world by capitalism, that also seems to be evident in the contrast between the home of Siegfried and Brünnhilde and the clean white luxury mansion being fussily arranged by Gutrune with maids aplenty and a servant with a magnum of champagne.

The hunting photo exhibited on the wall is a nice touch, showing a lightness of touch and humour, but also reflecting something important to the work. The heroism of Gunther is fake and their class bought, vulgar and ostentatious while Siegfried's has been earned through his own hard work. Siegfried is exploited and seduced by the attraction of wealth unaware of the value of his own labour, feeling unrewarded, undervalued, unrecognised. And unseen even. There is another figure in this production - not Wotan surely? Conscience maybe? - a silent figure protecting the child who likely features in other parts, again similar to other silent extra figures in Castorf's cycle. Siegfried is exploited by Gunther for how own prestige, and exploited himself by (putting aside any antisemitic suggestions) the string pulling behind the scenes of the Hagan, son of the Niebelungen.

So there are things that work well in this production, some that don't, others that are worth thinking over and not immediately dismissed by mindless booing of bores who want horned helmets and Wagner served up as nothing but ancient period costume mythology. Siegfried-disguised-as-Gunther's assault on Brünnhilde with a child in the house is every bit as horrific as any home invasion should be. That it's met at the end of Act I with loud boos trying to drown out the applause is a disgrace. Regardless of whether some elements of the stage design and direction might not be appealing, the artists and performers deserve to be listened to and treated with respect. Just don't applaud if you don't like it, or better still, just don't go and spoil it for others. Bayreuth want Wagner and Götterdämmerung remain relevant and are not be some dusty museum works of art, and such is the power of mythology and Wagner's unique insight, perspective and musical genius, that much of what it tells us relates constantly, continuously and ever-changing to meet the challenges we face in the present day. Too bad that some fail to or do not wish to find anything of worth in it.

The naysayers were silenced for a while at the end of Act II. There was nothing spectacular in the staging and showing Hagen meeting Alberich while hitting a punchbag isn't an impressive image, but the staging supported the singing and the singers took flight throughout the intense personal and family drama being enacted through Siegfried's deception of Brünnhilde with the Gibichung. The force of it on the others, combined with age old grievances and jealousies was put across terrifically. Again, not ideal in some places - if the fate of women in such family 'firms' is to be a feature of the production it needs stronger, clearer singing than Iréne Theorin can bring to the vital central role of Brünnhilde - but there is conviction there and a sense of this being a meaningful, painful situation that is going to lead to terrible consequences. The applause for the singers and hopefully for the orchestra under Cornelius Meister is well merited.

Act III was always going to be interesting to those of us who love the underrated Das Rheingold and haven't yet had an opportunity to see how the Rhine Daughters are depicted. Sadly, this element is a letdown, and so unfortunately is much of Act III as the concept, such as we can make of it, doesn't hold up to the conclusion required. The Rhinemaidens, apparently nannies to the child/ring, are in somewhat straitened circumstances here from the loss of the gold, residing in what looks like a sewer with drinks in their hands. It is brightened to reveal a deep drained swimming pool or water container. Either way it's not a terribly romantic image, and again it seems in part to draw on Frank Castorf's ideas and reimagining of the key work of a revolutionary socialist composer as an eternal class struggle and an attack on capitalism.

Unfortunately, Schwarz isn't quite as rigorous in detail as Castorf and Götterdämmerung limps towards an anti-climax. As I've said before, if there is one thing the end of the world and the fall of the Gods must NOT be, it's anticlimatic. Gunther's fate is unclear, he falls to the side while attempting to kidnap Siegfried's son, running away in terror at the approach of Brünnhilde, then climbs down into the 'pool' with a plastic bag that seems to contain the head of the invisible protector tortured in Act II (maybe Wotan indeed). The child drops dead as the Rhinemaidens leave stage. Brünnhilde turns into Salome embracing the head of Jokanaan (well, that's another dysfunctional family all right). Hagan mutters his final line and stumbles off. There is no great conflagration at the end (other than the outrage of inarticulate morons who couldn't wait to boo the production), but an image of twins in a womb. If Gunther's T-shirt is emblazoned with "Who the fuck is Grane?" that's the least of the questions left unanswered in this production.

As ever at Bayreuth the performances are a mixed bag, but overall it delivered on the power and emotional content of the work, which is certainly in keeping with the family concept here. I think the only performance that comes over impressively without any reservations is Albert Dohmen's Hagen. He's the glue that holds this together, a mighty force here, although Cornelius Meister - brought on at short notice as a replacement - does well to keep the music charged on a tough gig. I was similarly impressed however with this production's Siegfried. Another late replacement for Stephen Gould, I have never come across Clay Hilley before, but he filled one of the most challenging roles in opera admirably. As previously noted, you needed a stronger Brünnhilde than Iréne Theorin for the purposes of this production, but I thought she gave a committed performance. Michael Kupfer-Radecky's Gunther was a little too aggressive and forced in his singing, but there is little else to fault there. Elisabeth Teige was excellent as Gutrune in eye-catching array of designer dresses. Christa Mayer's Waltraude in Act II is worthy of praise and an undoubted contributing factor to the success of that Act.

So while the musical and singing performances were engaging enough - and that's a challenge in its own right in this four-and-a-half hour log opera - ultimately Valentin Schwarz's Netflix epic is a bit of a letdown. At its conclusion anyway, but isn't that often the way with Netflix boxset series? I would rather however see someone try and apply new ideas and contemporary relevance to the Ring and partly fail, rather than see it treated 'respectfully' as a stale tribute to a dead albeit great (the greatest) opera composer. Long may Bayreuth keep that legacy alive, challenging and changing with the times, and hopefully the privileged minority Bayreuth audience who find their dull conservative attitudes challenged by creative artists will also change over time. 

Links: Bayreuther Festspiele, BR-Klassik Streaming

Puccini - Turandot (Madrid, 2018)

Giacomo Puccini - Turandot

Teatro Real Madrid, 2018

Robert Wilson, Nicola Luisotti, Iréne Theorin, Raúl Giménez, Andrea Mastroni, Yolanda Auyanet, Gregory Kunde, Joan Martín-Royo, Vicenç Esteve, Juan Antonio Sanabria, Gerardo Bullón

France TV Culturebox

Robert Wilson's very distinctive and largely homogenous approach to set design isn't suited to every opera. Looking right back to Einstein on the Beach in 1976, it's clear that his style tends to work better with abstraction and ritual movements rather than with drama and narrative, but even working with Puccini or Verdi the effect of his unique style can be simply stunning in its use of light and colour and in its sheer visual splendour.

Not relying on any real-world situation but on a fantasy fairy-tale Turandot would seem better suited to the Wilson style, the opening Act alone of Puccini's opera being itself almost an abstract expression of living in fear and terror. In Turandot, Puccini was pushing his craft as a composer, exploring a new progressive direction for Italian opera, an endeavour that was unfortunately cut short with the death of the composer, Turandot itself remaining unfinished, its promise tantaslisingly unfulfilled.

That character is described well in Wilson's direction of that remarkable Act I of Turandot, the familiar luminous gradations of cobalt blue tending to darker shades, towards purple and shadow. The light of the moon casts an eerie light over the executioner and his next victim and over the people of Peking who live in fear of the terrible reign of Princess Turandot. After that build-up, her appearance on the stage is as striking as only Wilson's visual language can achieve, gliding in high above the stage on a platform, imperious, static, a fiery or bloody red against the cool backgrounds.

Wilson's stagecraft then is at once familiar as it is expressive to meet the specific demands of this particular opera. As well as extending the palette of colours considerably, there is also an expansion of the visual language Wilson traditionally employs, using beams of light that mark out the horizontal earthly boundaries of the stage as well as vertical beams that descend from the heavens and have chaotic branch-like formations. Even Turandot arrives floating on a platform bordered with light.

Wilson continues to use a minimum of stage props - almost none - preferring to use moving block of panels to close down or open up the stage to the emotional undercurrents and dramatic actions. Movement too is reduced to minimal actions and ritualised gestures. Like his production of Madama Butterfly, there's no Orientalism other than in the costumes, which have more of a classical ceremonial aspect than anything traditional. Additional expression however is used for characters, an all-gray Calaf sings 'Nessun Dorma' to a network of tangled roots, Turandot characterised by blazing reds and a giant black moon.

Like Nicola Luisotti's musical interpretation, it places emphasis on the moody qualities and character of the work, its sinister oriental refrains adding an edge of discord to the proceedings. And in many ways, Wilson serves the score best by not competing with it or underlining it, reducing any distraction or interpretation and permitting the extraordinary qualities of that powerful music room to be revealed. There are less of the director's usual eccentricities - even Ping, Pang and Pong are rather restrained here - with the strangest twist being Liù's stylised standing death, walking off-stage to the praises of the people of Peking, making it tragic in its own way.

The singing in this Teatro Real production in Madrid is good considering how challenging a work this is for all the main performers, Turandot an opera that requires Italian lyricism with Wagnerian depth and stamina. Gregory Kunde comes out best, unfailing in his efforts and secure in his 'Nessun dorma'. Iréne Theorin's Turandot doesn't have the fullness of voice across the range, but is suitably commanding and impressive in her account. There are good performances also from Yolanda Auyanet's Liù, Andrea Mastroni's Timur and from the opera's Ping, Pang and Pong.

It may not be the greatest performances you've heard of these roles, but opera is not a singing contest and you have to take live dramatic performance into account, particularly when you're dealing with the very specific constraints of a Robert Wilson production. I don't see it as the most insightful interpretation of Turandot either (the completion of the work still never entirely satisfactory), but Wilson's unique vision certainly does justice to Puccini and Alfano's score, as does the full-blooded musical performance under the direction of Nicola Luisotti, creating a unique dialectic with Wilson extraordinary visual imagery.

Links: Teatro Real

Wagner - Der Ring des Nibelungen (Leipzig, 2019)

Richard Wagner - Der Ring des Nibelungen

Oper Leipzig, 2019

Ulf Schirmer, Rosamund Gilmore, Iréne Theorin, Thomas Mohr, Simon O'Neill, Simone Schneider, Christiane Libor, Kathrin Göring, Vladimir Baykov, Martin Winkler, Dan Karlström, Henriette Gödde

Oper Leipzig - 1, 2, 4, 5 May 2019

It's important that any Ring Cycle establishes its own identity, and since it is the composer's birthplace and historically it was the first opera house outside of Bayreuth to ever perform Wagner's epic tetralogy in 1878, there is an expectation on Oper Leipzig to respect and do justice to its legacy. The last Ring production at Leipzig was 40 years ago, but that was also an important production and it would be impossible not to be mindful also of its impact. The creative team behind the 2013-2020 Leipzig Ring seem to be keen to respect the original intentions of the mythology, the history of the work as it applies to Germany and hopefully find a few new things to say about it.

As far as creative decisions go, the Leipzig Ring is informed very much by the historic legacy of the works' performances in the Leipzig house. Long before Frank Castorf's bold association of Der Ring des Nibelungen with the flawed 1871 creation of a German nation and the building blocks of a capitalist system that would eventually lead to the destruction of Wagner's socialist dream. Even before Patrice Chereau's famous production for Bayreuth, Joachim Herz made a similar association with the work's socialist underpinnings in Leipzig's groundbreaking 1973-76 100-year anniversary 'Jahrhundert-Ring'.

There's no question that Wagner wanted the Ring mythos to be part of the German identity, but the human element in the story, the social structures and character traits and flaws put in place during its creation (indications of future trouble that Wagner had previously identified much earlier in Lohengrin) shouldn't be neglected either. Revived for a series of full Ring Cycle performances in 2019 (with plans to do it all again in the 2020 season) Christian Geltinger's dramaturgy and Rosamund Gilmore's direction of the current Leipzig Ring are very much in line with this deeper exploration of the creation and downfall vision of the work as it applies to Wagner and his views on the newly formed German state.

The ideas of a beginning, and a flawed beginning that heralds the end, is immediately apparent in the choice of location and period of the first day prelude, Das Rheingold, a work that is nonetheless important for establishing what is to follow. In the Leipzig production the world is given form and structure from the outset; not the murky depths of the Rhine, but a courtyard in a castle with curved staircases running up and down. At first life consists of twisting formless shapes but soon the Rhinemaidens appear and Alberich the Niebelung Dwarf. There's a moment when there is the possibility of complete harmony arising out of the E-flat Major beginning and leitmotif evolution, but Alberich's choice of rejecting love and goodness for gold and power leads to later unresolved chromaticism.

The production has the appearance of a German period costume drama from Wagner's time, the castle location even resembling one of King Ludwig's elaborate fantasy creations, and in that respect it also has a resemblance to Luchino Visconti's Ludwig. That highlights very much the themes that reflect Wagner's concerns at the time of writing the work, the corruption of the ruling class (failing to treat fairly the labours of the Giants) that makes them the agents of their own downfall, but Wagner is also aware that his idealised socialist vision is already compromised by the human lust for power and wealth.

Those aspects of society are established from the outset in the Leipzig Das Rheingold, the social stratification marked by the colour schemes of white, green and fiery red, brought together in the rainbow arch at the conclusion in the creation of Valhalla that suggests that the world has been given shape, order, form, purpose and meaning. It's a false hope that however since Valhalla has been built in bad faith that will lead to its ultimate destruction. With the emphasis on the symbolism of the greater picture, it's Erda and Loge who have the dominant roles to play in this Das Rheingold. Erda sees the end in the beginning and it's Loge who is the dangerous force of chaos that is thrown into the creation. In terms of singing that was effectively performed by Thomas Mohr's vibrant Loge and Henriette Gödde's deeply troubled Erda, but the singing was clear and resonant throughout in the stunning acoustics of the Leipzig Opera House.

The strength of the Leipzig Ring's Die Walküre lies in its conflicting forces, and it's here that director Rosamund Gilmore's background as a dance choreographer comes into play more meaningfully. Dancing figures throw shapes and symbolise shadow aspects of characters. Wotan is accompanied by two dancers that between them form a raven, which is then able to represent Wotan even when he is not on stage but relevant to the drama or evoked in the music. Fricka, likewise, represented by a two part ram, is present in spirit throughout the drama between Siegmund and Sieglinde.

There is also a presence alongside Brünnhilde which is nominally her steed Graune. Arguably since Brünnhilde is already nothing more than the personification of Wotan's will, it's not so much a shadow version of her, but the point at which she asserts her own will is a significant point and Graune's separation perhaps reflects this to some extent. The Wotan and Fricke scene is also fizzling with tension, not so much for its domestic situation as for Wotan's resignation that the war has been lost. Seen in this light alongside Siegmund's heartfelt rejection of his fate if Sieglinde cannot follow, all of this makes for an intense and tragic Act II. Simon O'Neill's Siegmund was warmly applauded, but the really impressive performances were from Simone Schneider's Sieglinde and Christiane Libor as an impressive Brünnhilde. With Kathrin Göring's Fricka and Vladimir Baykov Wotan this Second Act really set the groundwork for a charged and tragic Act III, and essentially for the rest of the tetralogy.

Siegfried, rather like the overstretched opera itself with its frequent references to the backstory, doesn't make any great advances in the overall production but it does certainly emphasise the work's parallel to the curse of capitalism. Mime is the middle management worker or foreman, exploiting the graft of the working man Siegfried, who is kept in the dark as to the true workings of the world and the secret of the power he is unaware he possesses. Alberich when he appears is not a deformed dwarf but a businessman in a suit, an upper management executive, still ambitious for the greater power that the Ring will grant him.

Fafner likewise is not a literal dragon, but a monstrous distortion of the former giant corrupted by greed, sitting lazily on his hoard of gold, reluctant to give it up. Kept in the dark, with no knowledge of history in his own background, Siegfried has the power of his labour to correct the injustice of his position when he is made aware of it. Love could fill that void and save the world but it cannot fill the void inside him, an emotional void that will be exploited by others for their gain. The whole system is corrupt, the Norns have woven it into the fabric of the world, it cannot be fixed from within without succumbing to its power, without succumbing to the lure of power itself and the exercise of it.

There's not much that in the staging or the singing that stand out to make this Siegfried exceptional but it reinforces the central theme and the singing and musical performances support it well. The few points that are genuinely impressive come with Rosamund Gilmore's dance and movement choreography. Siegfried's superhuman mending of the broken Nothung is represented by a score of shadow Siegfrieds hammering in the forge, there are likewise multiple extensions of Fafner that make his slaying rather more dramatic, and the dancer movements of the Waldvogel are enchanting. All of this ensures that the production sustains interest and is visually impressive.

By the time we get to Götterdämmerung we're not expecting any new elements to be added to the concept that has already been established, although new ideas are always welcome since otherwise it can be a long five-and-a-half hour slog. Few productions of the Ring are as varied and innovative as Frank Castorf's Bayreuth production and the Leipzig Ring indeed doesn't break any new ground, but like Siegfried it has a couple of welcome touches that make the very long prelude and Act I much more engaging, and for a few reasons you might even go as far as saying that this Götterdämmerung was among the highlights of this Ring Cycle production as a whole.

First of all there's the singing. With a variety of singers taking on the roles from one day to the next, Leipzig saved the best Siegfried and Brünnhilde for the last. Thomas Mohr, who impressed earlier as Loge in Das Rheingold, was a stunning Siegfried in terms of singing and characterisation, cruelly exploited to be cruel himself. Likewise Iréne Theorin's tragic fortitude and consistently good singing performance as Brünnhilde made all the difference to how we view the relationship between the couple and the coming cataclysm. It builds on the chaos of Loge, the unravelling of tangled threads of fate viewed by the Norn and the despair of resignation felt by Wotan to make the climax for these foolish gods and would-be heroes of the world genuinely and humanly affecting.

Secondly, the production design is again consistently impressive, adaptable through superb lighting to the changes of scene and, just as importantly, to the variances of mood. Not a minute of this drags and that's saying something for Götterdämmerung. Thirdly, and perhaps most important of all, Ulf Schirmer's conducting keeps the mood and momentum going well with the Gewandhaus Orchestra. By the time you get to the third day you feel like you are familiar with all the motifs, but Schirmer keeps them fresh, showing how Wagner puts them not just to people, objects and symbols, but varies them according to mood and situation. It's a masterful account that brings the Leipzig Ring full circle.

Das Rheingold
1 May 2019
Conductor - Ulf Schirmer, Director - Rosamund Gilmore, Sets - Carl Friedrich Oberle, Costumes - Nicola Reichert, Lights - Michael Röger, Dramaturgy - Christian Geltinger, Orchestra - Gewandhausorchester

Fricka - Kathrin Göring
Freia - Gabriela Scherer
Erda - Henriette Gödde
Woglinde - Magdalena Hinterdobler
Wellgunde - Sandra Maxheimer
Floßhilde - Sandra Fechner
Wotan - Tuomas Pursio
Donner - Anooshah Golesorkhi
Froh - Sven Hjörleifsson
Loge - Thomas Mohr
Fasolt - Sebastian Pilgrim
Fafner - James Moellenhoff
Alberich - Martin Winkler
Mime Dan Karlström

Die Walküre 
2 May 2019

Conductor - Ulf Schirmer, Director - Rosamund Gilmore, Sets - Carl Friedrich Oberle, Costumes - Nicola Reichert, Lights - Michael Röger, Dramaturgy - Christian Geltinger, Orchestra - Gewandhausorchester

Sieglinde - Simone Schneider
Brünnhilde - Christiane Libor
Fricka - Kathrin Göring
Wotan - Vladimir Baykov
Gerhilde - Gabriela Scherer
Ortlinde - Magdalena Hinterdobler
Waltraute - Monica Mascus
Schwertleite - Sandra Fechner
Helmwige - Daniela Köhler
Siegrune - Sandra Maxheimer
Grimgerde - Karin Lovelius
Rossweiße - Sarah Alexandra Hudarew
Siegmund - Simon O´Neill
Hunding - Randall Jakobsh
Wotan - Vladimir Baykov
Grane - Ziv Frenkel

Siegfried
4 May 2019

Conductor - Ulf Schirmer, Director - Rosamund Gilmore, Sets - Carl Friedrich Oberle, Costumes - Nicola Reichert, Lights - Michael Röger, Dramaturgy - Christian Geltinger, Orchestra - Gewandhausorchester

Erda - Henriette Gödde
Brünnhilde - Katherine Broderick
Stimme des Waldvogels - Bianca Tognocchi
Siegfried - Michael Weinius
Mime - Dan Karlström
Der Wanderer - Simon Neal
Alberich - Tuomas Pursio
Fafner - Randall Jakobsh

Götterdämmerung
5 May 2019

Conductor - Ulf Schirmer, Director - Rosamund Gilmore, Sets - Carl Friedrich Oberle, Costumes - Nicola Reichert, Lights - Michael Röger, Chorus Master - Thomas Eitler-de Lint, Dramaturgy - Christian Geltinger, Orchestra - Gewandhausorchester

Brünnhilde - Iréne Theorin
Gutrune - Gabriela Scherer
Waltraute - Karin Lovelius
1. Norn - Karin Lovelius
2. Norn - Kathrin Göring
3. Norn - Olena Tokar
Woglinde - Magdalena Hinterdobler
Wellgunde - Sandra Maxheimer
Floßhilde - Sandra Fechner
Siegfried - Thomas Mohr
Gunther - Tuomas Pursio
Alberich - Martin Winkler
Hagen - Sebastian Pilgri

Links: Oper Leipzig

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Wiener Staatsoper, 2015 - Webcast)

Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Wiener Staatsoper, 2015

Peter Schneider, David McVicar, Iréne Theorin, Peter Seiffert, Albert Dohmen, Tomasz Konieczny, Petra Lang, Gabriel Bermúdez, Carlos Osuna, Il Hong, Jason Bridges

Wiener Staatsoper Live at Home - 18 January 2015

If due attention is paid to the music itself, Tristan und Isolde is a work that can withstand just about any kind of stage production. Even in the case of a particularly outlandish concept - Marthaler's Bayreuth production being one of the strangest I've seen, but Bill Viola's is also unique - the nature of Wagner's music and its thematic core cannot be steered off its course. There's not a whole lot of room for re-interpretation here, but it still needs performers of considerable ability to get across the full impact of a work that was once deemed impossible to play. Musically and in terms of stage direction, the Vienna State Opera's revival of David McVicar's production, plays it closely by the book, giving full consideration to the actual beauty of the composition as an expression of its themes.

Primarily, I find with David McVicar that mood is the most important consideration. He always strives to establish that right from the outset, even if that means straying a little from the period or tradition. That's of vital importance in a work like Tristan und Isolde. Without adding unnecessary layers or jarring anachronisms, McVicar's production of Tristan und Isolde is fairly simple, stripped back and notionally representational, but it recognises the use and the strength of symbolism in the work and finds a way to convey that according to the libretto, the stage directions and the music itself.

Act I is fairly straightforward, the journey clearly on a ship and at sea, even if the ship is skeletal and of a reduced size for a crossing of the Irish Sea. There would appear to be some contradiction between the silver moonlit scene and the blood red moon, but that's not inappropriate in a work that lies well outside the laws of nature and where symbolism is prevalent. The moon with its gravitational forces as a symbol of passion of the flame of love that burns brightly between Tristan and Isolde, is clearly indicated by the ebb and flow of their encounters and their transcendence interruptus, the fire almost extinguishing at Tristan's lowest moment during the false sighting of Isolde's ship on Kareol. It inevitably burns brightest, glowing red, expanding to almost fill the sky, during the Liebestod.

Elsewhere, the predominant mood established by the production is that of darkness, Night being the other expression of the inverted nature of Tristan and Isolde's forbidden love, forbidden in that its fire is too all-consuming. Their love calls out for darkness, for the extinguishing of the day, for the extinguishing of life even. All three acts take place in near-darkness, lit only by the moon and by fires. It's Act II, where Tristan and Isolde attempt to express the nature of their condition and find that the meaning of words is unable to encompass the contradictory nature of that love, that McVicar turns a little more to abstraction, with a pointed tower on a stage of broken steps, crowned by a weaved circle of thorned wire. Whether you read religious significance into this, spirituality or transcendence, it at least represents the beauty and the terrible nature of their forbidden journey.

The simple abstractions and colours of the stage production reflect the majestic beauty and mystery of the score itself. Peter Schneider's handling of the score and direction of the orchestra could hardly be faulted. It was a rousing performance, measured and stirring, finding and presenting the extraordinary romantic surges in the score, holding back and letting the music assert its own power. Occasionally it's a little too cautious, the beginning of the Liebestod for example slowed down to let Irène Theorin take a gradual build-up that doesn't explode into soaring rapture as much as rest on soft and sweetly acceptance. It matches McVicar's directions for this scene, which has the moon swell and fall below the horizon, the rest of the world vanishing as Isolde calmly exits the stage without succumbing/transcending herself in the traditional manner. While he makes a mark there, and in Tristan pulling himself onto Melot's sword, elsewhere the stage directions are very closely followed.

The ideals that Isolde and Tristan represent are almost impossible to embody in flesh-and-blood singers. One of the greatest Isoldes of recent times is the incomparable Waltraud Meier, but since her retirement from that role Irène Theorin is one of only a few serious contenders, and she made a good case for Isolde here in Vienna. It's a stronger or perhaps more controlled performance than the previous Bayreuth one I've seen. Naturalism is not a consideration here, Isolde swinging between being alternately enraged and quickly composed, and Theorin glides between the ebb and flow of these two states with ease, vocally as well as dramatically. It's perhaps not as enraptured and soaring an Isolde as one might like, but that's fitted to the tone of the production here, and having seen her Elektra, she could well be capable of taking the passions in this role to other places.

Peter Seiffert is, alongside Robert Dean Smith, in demand as a Tristan when singers with the capability to sing such a role are thin on the ground in any generation. Neither of those heldentenors is perfect, but the ideal is close to impossible in any case. There are a few slight wobbles from Seiffert, much as when I saw him sing the role in Berlin a few months ago, but not many. It's a fine, committed performance here overall, working well with Theorin in the duets of Act II, strong, firm and expressive in the demanding and exhausting third act. Albert Dohmen's King Marke was smooth with a sorrowful gravity; Tomasz Konieczny's Kurwenal not always perfect but he was enthusiastically warmly received at the curtain call by the Vienna audience; Petra Lang a little stretched as Brangäne, but the ensemble overall was good for this production, fully getting across the necessary impact of this Wagner masterpiece on the screen, and all the more so I imagine in the house itself.

The Wiener Staatsoper's Live at Home in HD season continues in January with productions of SALOME on 23 Jan and THE QUEEN OF SPADES on 28 Jan. February broadcasts include SIMON BOCCANEGRA, TOSCA, ANDREA CHÉNIER and an EDITA GRUBEROVA gala concert. There are details of how to view these productions in the links below.

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

Wagner - Tannhäuser (Wiener Staatsoper, 2014 - Webcast)

Richard Wagner - Tannhäuser

Wiener Staatsoper

Peter Schneider, Claus Guth, Kwangchul Youn, Robert Dean Smith, Christian Gerhaher, Camilla Nylund, Iréne Theorin, Norbert Ernst, Sorin Coliban, James Kryshak, Dan Paul Dumitrescu, Annika Gerhards

Wiener Staatsoper Live Streaming - 2 November 2014

First performed in 1845, Tannhäuser was Wagner's first great success and notwithstanding the musical developments first advanced in Der fliegende Holländer, its scale and the coherence of its concept place it more recognisably in the familiar Wagner style. Fusing legends and mythology from a number of sources, Tannhäuser uses these stories as an examination of deep archetypal human desires and experiences and as an expression of Germanic character, but it's also a work that tells us a lot about the composer himself. Tannhäuser is inextricably linked with the philosophy and the struggle of Wagner as an artist, a revolutionary and a reformer.

The nature of the composer, the problematic and difficult and contradictory sides of his character and his thought, the expression of that in his music is perhaps more of interest to the modern-day opera-goer than what the 13th century writings of Wolfram von Eschenbach, the influence of Heinrich Heine and the arcane language of Wagner's own libretto. There are clear parallels between the figure of Heinrich Tannhäuser and Wagner himself as an artist struggling with and using his physical and sensual human nature as a means to reach a higher, spiritual truth. Setting himself against prevailing thoughts, customs and morals, he's a character that is fated to be misunderstood and forced into exile only to eventually return triumphant and vindicated.

Seen in that regard, Tannhäuser isn't the most modest portrait of the artist as a young man. There's an arrogant self-importance here but, arguably, all of Wagner's later works could be seen in that light as overblown ego-trips of a musical genius who was fully aware of his own talent and ability. It is worth examining then, just what makes them as great as they are, and Wagner's personal life can't be left out of the equation. It's clear from the greatcoats, top hats and neck-ties in Claus Guth's production of the music-drama for the Vienna State Opera, that the director is aiming closer to Wagner's own period, attempting to make the link between the composer and the work clearer and, hopefully, thereby making it a little more meaningful and accessible.

The settings are likewise 'closer to home' than the nymphs and satyrs in the grotto of Venusberg or the Wartburg castle of the middle ages in Eisenach. Act I is basically just a stage and a red curtain, Tannhäuser's time spent with Venus being rather more clearly signalled as the artist having an affair with his leading lady before coming to the realisation that he is neglecting his art and has to move on. Guth initially makes use of doubles on the part of Heinrich and Venus to emphasis the struggle between the sensual and the spiritual side of the artist, but this mirroring isn't taken much further on into the opera. The Wartburg scenes look like Wagner period Saxony or Thuringia concert halls, drawing rooms and bedrooms, but there's nothing that jars with the mythological setting of Wagner's imagination.

Other than transposing the period, Guth's production doesn't really appear to have anything more to add to the meaning of Tannhäuser, sticking fairly closely to the word and the intent of the libretto, but it has to be said that not much more actually happens over the three acts. That hasn't stopped other directors from imposing all manner of strange concepts on the work (I still haven't made much sense out of this year's Bayreuth production), and there's no major deconstruction of the author and the work in the manner of Herheim's Bayreuth Parsifal. It may not be an edgy or experimental production, but it's well designed, it looks lovely, and is appropriate and respectful of the work. Peter Schneider's conducting matches that tone, forging a close bond with the stage production. There are no surprises, it's played very much in a solid, classic Wagner style, and that seems appropriate for the purposes of this production.

There are however some notable differences with how Tannhäuser is traditionally viewed, and this creeps in more as the work progresses. Act II, Scene 4, for example is played like a scene from Die Zauberflöte, the nobles - masked and wearing cloaks - separating Tannhäuser and Elisabeth as if to prepare him a Masonic initiation. The Landgrave comes over as a kind of Sarastro, his purpose to win Tannhäuser away from sensuality and emotion to the side of order and rationality by fulfilling his destiny as an artist and Meistersinger. Act III however is the most powerful in how it expresses the reality against Wagner's poetic idealism. Tannhäuser doesn't make any literal pilgrimage to Rome, but is rather sick in bed having collapsed at the end of Act II. Elisabeth might be an angel who journeys over the hills to the Wartburg on a pathway to heaven in Wagner's eyes, but here, in her despair at his failure to "return", takes an overdose of pills and falls into an adjoining bed beside him.

The conclusion to Tannhäuser, if it's not exactly a happy one, should at least be spiritually uplifting. Guth's ending manages to be a little bleaker than most, but it does prove to be uplifting and incredibly moving. Wolfram's song (Act III, scene 2) becomes even more mournful as it follows the reality of Elisabeth's suicide sacrifice, particularly as it's sung impressively in this light by a wonderfully lyrical Christian Gerhaher. The only right ending then, since she has gone to meet Tannhäuser in heaven, is for Tannhäuser also to collapse and die beside her as the curtain falls and Wagner's Tannhäuser theme reaches its almost overwhelmingly beautiful conclusion. Whether it fits with the overall concept, whether it relates to the Wagner-period production design or not, it is nonetheless extraordinarily effective and, for me at least, it gives the work a more relatable human side.

The singers can contribute to bringing out that side of the work too, and that was well done in the Vienna production. As mentioned above, it was most evident in the performance of Christian Gerhaher, who received the loudest roar of approval from the audience at the curtain call. Robert Dean Smith gave his usual solid, untiring and finely sung performance. He faltered slightly when coming back after the long break before his appearance in Act II, but was right there on form again in the third act. Camilla Nylund's Elisabeth was beautifully and sweetly sung. The soprano role of Venus in the original 1845 version of the work performed here (as opposed to its scoring for mezzo-soprano in the 1861 Paris version) was however still just a little too low for Iréne Theorin to really sing with the necessary force. The chorus are also a vital force in Tannhäuser, and the Vienna chorus took up that role wonderfully.

The Vienna Staatsoper have an ambitious and impressive programme of pay-per-view live performances being streamed this season. The next performances being broadcast are La Bohème on November 7th, and Khovanshchina on November 21st.  See the Live Programme on their website for details.

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

Wagner - Götterdämmerung

Richard Wagner - Götterdämmerung

Teatro alla Scalla, Milan - 2013

Daniel Barenboim, Guy Cassiers, Irène Theorin, Lance Ryan, Mikhail Petrenko, Gerd Grochowski, Johannes Martin Kränzle, Anna Samuil, Waltraud Meier, Margarita Nekrassova, Aga Mikolaj, Maria Gortsevskaya, Anna Lapkovskaja

Arthaus Musik - Blu-ray

While there are undoubtedly critical elements that it's important to get right in the earlier parts of the tetraology, it's Götterdämmerung that is ultimately the real test of any Ring cycle. After the years of hard work preparation that go into putting on a work of this scale, it has to come together meaningfullly at the end. It really wouldn't do if the epic end of the world finale of Götterdämmerung proved to be anticlimatic. The La Scala production is certainly unconventional in how it presents that all-important conclusion, but I don't think anyone could say that it is anything but bold and deeply impressive. That's not to say that the production here doesn't suffer from the same problems that face any company staging this demanding and exhausting work - principally in casting and singing - but it's a fitting conclusion nonetheless to a consistently impressive if not exactly revelatory new Ring cycle.

There is at least one important aspect to the La Scala Ring that has remained consistent and left no cause for concern about how the final segment would play out, and that's Daniel Barenboim's contribution. The sheer scale and ambition of Wagner's masterwork means that Götterdämmerung has to bring together all the earlier themes and leitmotifs the earlier works and bear the conceptual weight of the Ring as a whole. It's an enormous musical challenge, but Barenboim has been remarkably consistent and adaptable to Guy Cassiers' concept and he conducts the orchestra of La Scala through the varied tones of this particular work with a beautiful fluidity and a rising sense of urgency. It feels of a whole in a way that Götterdämmerung rarely does, consolidating those elements elaborated in the earlier parts into something much grander than their constituent parts. The whole point of Götterdämmerung is that all the little dramas and personal tragedies add up to something meaningful in the grander scheme of things, and in this production under Barenboim, that is exactly what is achieved.

There has also been a strong consistency to the look and feel of Guy Cassiers' production design, even if any deeper meaning or significance has been hard to determine. The source of certain imagery that has cropped up regularly throughout the cycle however is revealed here - in all its glory at the finale - to have been inspired by Jef Lambeaux's relief sculpture 'Les passions humaines'. This certainly gives substance to imagery and the ideas the director has been working with and leads to an immensely powerful conclusion, finding a strong visual concept that supports and illustrates Wagner's music and ideas, even if it doesn't add anything new to our understanding of the meaning of Der Ring des Nibelungen.

Even with its mythological setting and its play on the affairs of Gods, Giants, Dwarfs and Nymphs, the Ring is indeed about "human passions". It's about stripping away those God-like ideals and revealing the complexity of those human passions that are no less capable of destroying the world. There's nothing in the greed of Alberich and Mime, in the marital discord between Wotan and Fricke, in the pride of Wotan and the despair he feels at the defiance of his will by his wayward daughter Brünnhilde that isn't representative of real human passions. There's an inevitability too that the great romantic forbidden love of Siegmund and Sieglinde and the actions of the great hero Siegfried will inspire great passions and lead humanity to new heights, but that ultimately even those will eventually come to a tragic end.

That at least is one aspect of what the Ring is about. The mythological aspect is also a vital component in Wagner's exploration of human passions in his search for a national identity and his expression of it through a new art form for a new nation. That's not neglected either in Guy Cassiers' direction with its spectacular visuals and projections, while the question of where the wielding of that newfound power will lead is to be found throughout in the mutilated body parts that merge together in Lambeaux's sculpture. It's a superb illustration of those themes on a number of levels, but in itself it's also a stunning state-of-the-art visual spectacle that has the look and conceptual qualities of an art installation. With Barenboim conducting the groundbreaking, genre-defining brilliance of Wagner in the full-flower of his genius, this is every bit as "momumental" as Götterdämmerung ought to be. 

It also reveals and emphasises however the weaknesses or the difficulties that are nearly impossible to overcome in a work of this scale and ambition. With the emphasis on the grander scale, the actual playing out of the drama with any kind of conviction is unfortunately, and perhaps necessarily, often neglected. In the context of Guy Cassiers' production, in a the set never looks naturalistic but merely an arrangement of stage props and "installations", there is scarcely any dramatic playing within it. That's understandable considering the exceptional demands placed on the singers in Götterdämmerung, but even so, there's an awful lot of standing and declaiming out to the theatre and very little interaction or dramatic interplay between the characters. Anna Samuil for example, although she sings well, only has eyes for the conductor and barely glances at her on-stage companions.

For Götterdämmerung sadly we lose Nina Stemme, who made such an impression as Brünnhilde in Die Walkure and Siegfried, but Irène Theorin proves to be a more than worthy replacement. She's perhaps not as strong across at the lower end of the range, but her top notes hit home in a performance that is full of fire. Just about passable in Siegfried, Lance Ryan's weaknesses are however cruelly exposed in the more open and testing environment of Götterdämmerung. His delivery is sometimes good, particularly in shorter phrasing, but any long notes waver around wildly. I'm not sure that there are many heldentenors around nowadays though who are capable of holding down this role, and at least he appears engaged in the role. Mikhail Petrenko sings Hagen well, although his delivery is a little too Russian in declamation. The other roles are more than competently played by a strong cast that includes Gerd Grochowski, Johannes Martin Kränzle (as a disturbingly distorted version of his already sinister Alberich), Waltraud Meier and Anna Samuil.

A four hour forty-five minute performance is a lot to get onto a single disk, even a BD50 Blu-ray, but the image and sound quality hold up alongside the fine presentation of the other releases in this cycle. Like those, the BD is region-free, with subtitles in German, English, French, Spanish, Italian and Korean. These can only be selected from the player remote or from the 'Pop-up' menu during playback. There's no synopsis in the booklet, just a fanciful essay that unconvincingly attempts to link Götterdämmerung with Joseph Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness' and with the Belgian Congo. It does however provide that useful information about Jef Lambeaux's 'Les passions humaines' sculpture, which might otherwise not be recognised. Its significance however can fully be felt in this powerful conclusion to an intriguing Ring cycle.

Strauss - Elektra

Richard Strauss - Elektra

Opéra National de Paris, 2013

Philippe Jordan, Robert Carsen, Waltraud Meier, Irène Theorin, Ricarda Merbeth, Kim Begley, Evgeny Nikitin, Miranda Keys

Opéra Bastille - 7 November 2013

Sometimes when you're not really expecting it and with the least likely of works the Paris Opera get it wonderfully right. You'd have thought that the previous night's Aida would have been better suited to the vast stage of the Bastille, but Olivier Py's production ended up filling the stage with everything except that which is essential. Robert Carsen, the other director featuring prominently in this season's programme at the Opéra National de Paris, by way of contrast took a minimalist approach but used the space much more effectively in his new production for Elektra by stripping it bare and exposing the dark intimate heart of the work. With every other element falling into place to support it, this was a marvellous account of a masterwork.

It might not have been much too look at, but it seems that the more sparse the staging, the more powerful the expression of Elektra is. Director Robert Carsen gives us nothing but a bare stage with a few inches of soil or dark sand, surrounded far back by a structure of curved steel walls. Similar to another of Carsen's recent productions, Die Zauberflöte (not opening in Paris until next year, but already seen at Baden Baden), there's a pit at the centre here that gives the impression of a grave. Elektra is all about establishing mood and Carsen adheres to the basic principle of Hugo von Hofmannstahl's stage directions of "a blend of light and night, of darkness and brightness".

The implications of the grave representing death and deep, dark and unpleasant recesses are simple enough in Carsen's staging of Elektra, and it's not difficult either to recognise the significance of the dead naked Agamemnon being disgorged from it at Electra's bidding, raised aloft and borne Christ-like in a procession across the stage. Even its gaping openness creates an unsettling sensation with the viewer whenever anyone wanders too close to it, keeping you slightly on-edge and off-balance - which of course is precisely the impression you ought to be feeling during this work. It's a simple effect, but highly effective.

The other simple but effective element of Carsen's staging is his use of a Greek chorus. Rather than leaving that vast space empty but for a gaping hole (which in any case would have been more than enough with the cast here and the performance of the orchestra under Philippe Jordan), a group of black-robed, pale-faced women - attired in the same fashion as Electra - mirror her movements and highlight her gestures, suggesting that she possesses an extra force that cannot be confined to one person alone, while at the same time showing a fracturing of her personality. Which is a fairly accurate visual depiction of how it is scored with psychological precision by Richard Strauss. What remained to be conveyed by the staging was achieved through the lighting, through shadows cast on the curved walls and through the stage directions - most notably in how the various members of the drama make their entrances and exits. In the case of Clytemnestra, for example, she arrives borne upon a bed and exits dropped down into the grave.

While the stage management and how it reflects upon the characters was evidently carefully considered and had a significant impact on the presentation of this opera, the singing takes up the other major part of the challenge and here the casting was very strong indeed. Waltraud Meier may not be the force she once was, but she is nonetheless one of the great Clytemnestras with a gorgeous timbre and loads of personality. She was certainly more expressive and forceful here than in her performance of the role at Aix earlier this year for Patrice Chéreau. Irène Theorin likewise seemed not only more expressive here than in her performance of Electra in Christof Loy's production at Salzburg, and much more human at the same time, but she also consequently carried the incredibly difficult singing challenges of the role with more authority and conviction.

Between them Theorin and Meier created a formidable team that sustained the considerable singing challenges of the work and the important mother/daughter relationship that lies at the heart of the drama. There were however no weaknesses elsewhere, with Evgeny Nikitin a fine Orestes, Kim Begley making a necessary impression even in the minor role of Aegisthus, and Ricarda Merbeth an outstanding Chrysothemis. Philippe Jordan led the Paris orchestra through this difficult work, highlighting here the surprising lush qualities that can be found in Strauss's sometimes harsh and unsettling score. It was consequently perhaps not as dark and mercilessly punishing as Elektra can be, but taken alongside Carsen's staging, it was pitched perfectly and powerfully to achieve the necessary impact without overwhelming the precision of the dramatic intent.