Strange Strauss Salomé, Bayerisches Staatsoper

A strange Strauss Salomé from the Bayerisches Staatsoper.  Salomé is a strange opera, whose meaning is elusive and defies easy answers. Strange isn't wrong per se. Sometimes strangeness yields great insight even if it might take a degree of insight to grasp in the first place.  In this case,  strangeness seems to have been done for its own sake, without much thought behind it.  For one thing, this Salomé started not with Strauss but with Mahler. A veiled man appears, apparently singing a song from Kindertotenlieder, though the tessitura is so high it's close to falsetto.  Is Pavol Breslik (Narraboth) singing or mouthing the song of an offstage singer ?  Perhaps Krzysztof Warlikowski wants to make connections between parents and children in the songs, generation conflict in Salomé and the offstage voice of Jochanaan, the idea doesn't fit, or go very far, and isn't developed in the rest of the staging. 

In the palace, the courtiers lounge about like zombies, their body language stylized. They smoke and grasp tiny vials, whose purpose will be revealed later.  Some sort of erotic connection between Hérodias (Michaela Schuster) and the Page (Rachael Wilson), which makes you wonder about the dynamic between mother and daughter, but distracts from the obvious kinkiness of Herodes' (Wolfgang Ablinger-Sperrhacke) feelings from Salomé. (Marlis Petersen). This is a dysfunctional family, in dysfunctional times,  but caricature isn't the way to go.  Jochanaan (Wolfgang Koch) crawls out from the floorboards  A truly Wagnerian apparition. "Heisst ihn herkommen, auf dass er die Stimme Dessen höre, der in den Wüsten und in den Häusern der Könige gekündet hat" delivered with baleful portent. The horns that introduce this passage and the timpani with which it ends are there for a purpose. Perhaps that's why Warlikowski emphasises Salomé's sadistic streak.  She's rewarded for her cruelty by Johannan's curse but the masochistic bitch (not the singer) likes it.  Is he making connections between Wagner, Strauss, and Hitler?  Such connections may or may not be valid but here there's so much going on that they can't be developed beyond superficial shock level. Strauss's opera is much more nuanced, more sympathetic to female sexuality and suffering,  and doesn't lose sight of the fact that Salomé, like Elektra, might not be what she becomes had she not been abused herself.

The banquet in the palace is staged, the guests lined up one side of a long table, an obvious parody of Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper, though the connections are dubious. Sure, Christ and his apostles were Jewish, but what does that imply ?  Does a smell of anti-semitism cling to this staging  where cynicism overides humanity ?  Herodes  justhappened to be Jewish : Strauss's opera is about people, not Judaism itself. The introduction to the first dance was gorgeously played- exotic, seductive, elusive.  The dance itself rather more predictable - Salomé in white lace embracing a dancer in a skeleton suit.  As if to distract attention further, a multi coloured backdrop  dominates the scene, with pseudo-medieval figures like lion and unicorn, which might please audiences who want colourful decor at all costs, but isn't really relevant. Any "beauty" in this scene is delusion. When the head of Jochannan is delivered to Salomé, in a box, Petersen alternates sensuality with sharp, brittle flutterings.  Now, for the trick ending. the final scene takes place in another busy, crowded backdrop. Jochannan's back, fullyl restored, having a cigarette with the crowd. Nabbaroth's back, too, holding a gun. Later he hands out treats, like at a party.  What is in those little vials ? Cyanide ? Strange I can cope with, but this confounds me.  Warlikowski generally is a good director but this time he seems to want to channel Barrie Kosky.  Not a good thing ! Wonderful playing though, conducted by Kirill Petrenko, who is, I think, better at opera than in orchestral work. 

Abendstern Tannhäuser - Bayerische Staatsoper Munich

Wagner Tannhäuser at the Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich,  with Klaus Florian Vogt, Christian Gerhaher, Anja Harteros and Georg Zeppenfeld, conducted by Kiril Petrenko.  That the singing was brilliant is no surprise, since these singers are so familiar that what they do isn't "news", though I'll write more later.  What was a surprise was the staging, or rather the thought that went into the dramaturgy.  The Overture seemed to make no sense at all. Venusberg represents unbridled sexual excess. Wagner's description is unashamedly explicit - Sirens are bathing - naked - in waters pouring from a cave hidden by cliffs, lit in lurid flesh tones. A vagina !  Modern audiences couldn't cope. Yet here we saw maidens in Grecian garb, as elegant as marble figures.  An Abendstern Venusberg? "Wie Todesahnung, Dämm'rung deckt die Lande,umhüllt das Tal mit schwärzlichem Gewande". Venusberg aping Wartburg? Upside down, I thought, at first.  But maybe that was the point. Venusberg and Wartburg represent opposite poles. Venusberg symbolizes sex, creativity, and life: Wartburg symbolizes denial and death. Which, in fact, is more "pure"?  Thus the Cupids around Venus's couch are unformed blobs of flesh: a shocking image, but again that might be the point.  Venusberg is tainted. Tannhäuser needs to get away if he is to develop.  

In Tannhäuser, Wagner develops his ideas on the role of art in life. Tannhäuser is a precursor of Walter von Stoltzing, the two Siegfrieds and Parsifal, who don't spring fully formed from the start.  Hence the Sirens at Venusberg, firing arrows, an image that doesn't make sense til we journey a while with the production.  If you don't know what you're shooting at, don't shoot! You might just be wrong. Wagner's heroes start out thinking they know everything. They only grow when they learn to learn.  Nothing wrong with that, as Wagner shows.  In our own time, when anti-intellectual populism prevails, Wagner's message is frighteningly prescient.  Like the Knights of the Grail, the Knights of Wartburg are aggressively insular, blocking out ideas other than their own, resenting dissent.  Tannhäuser could have an easy life playing their games, but he chooses not to, striking out on his own. He searches for truth whatever the forces against him. And Elisabeth sides with him, sacrificing herself.  Tannhäuser may never unlock his Grail, but redeems himself because he has vision. For Wagner, religion "is" art, so the quest for artistic integrity can never end.   An artist seeks enlightenment, not playing to the crowd.  Thus the Grail Knights desiccate until they learn compassion. What will happen to Wolfram and the Minnesingers of Wartburg with their sterile dreams and inhibitions? An insular community based on denial, and hatred of women in particular, isn't conducive to creativity. 

The best Tannhauser I've ever heard live was Johan Botha (read my tribute here)   Klaus Florian Vogt comes pretty close: two voices of exceptional beauty and purity.  In fact, I can't think of any time when I haven't loved what Vogt's done, even outside opera.  Fortunately, the action in this production was understated  - "Abendstern" stillness - so we could savour the voice and its subtle nuances.  Vogt's voice is glorious, but he can convey Tannhauser's weariness, suffering and, at last, humility."0 Wolfram, der du also sangest, du hast die Liebe arg entstellt!"  and later "Hör an, Wolfram, hör an! Inbrunst im Herzen, wie kein Büsser noch sie je gefühlt, sucht' ich den Weg nach Rom"  When Tannhauser sings like that, Wolfram is eclipsed.  Even in small, trelatively unobtrusive moments, Vogt excels: "Heilige Elisabeth, bitte für mich! "  The voice is luminous, Vogt;'s face glowing as if lit from within. . 

Christian Gerhaher is the Wolfram of choice these days, after his  astonishing breakthrough in the part seven years ago.  He's had his ups and down in recent years, so it was good to hear him back on form here: much better than in Vienna in 2015 though not quite as astounding as in London.  I've been listening to him since he was young and unknown, nearly fifteen years ago and have his first CD.  He's an opera fan's idea of a Lieder singer, better in opera than in art song, though it would be nice if he'd broaden his repertoire.  I'd like to hear Matthias Goerne as Wolfram in the alternative cast, with a darker, more mysterious timbre.  Anja Harteros we hear a lot of live, too.  So what if she doesn't do the Met ? The European market is huge, the population's coming up to 750 million.  Rich as her voice is, there's a sensitivity to her singing that suits houses like Munich and London (ROH capacity 2200). She's an unusual Elisabeth, but interesting. Elisabeth's a strong, independent-minded person who stands up to the bullies in her community.  Harteros's Elisabeth is no warrior. Her weapon is prayer. Hence the air of humility which Harteros brings to the part expand characterization, and makes the role even more sympathetic.  Georg Zeppenfeld, another much-loved regular, creates a forceful Hermann, Landgraf von Thüringen.  Unlike Wolfram and the other Knights, The Landgraf is decisive: a Gurnemanz, a leader among conformists.  Elena Pankratova's Venus was full-throated and voluptuous. As always, minor parts and chorus at the Bayerische Staatsoper are wonderfully cast.

Kiril Petrenko conducted. The Overture and other orchestral passages were written to accommodate dancers, so a certain amount of rhythmic liveliness is in order, In many productions, the dancing is much more exuberant : Venus hosts orgies, and her sirens dance in order to seduce.  Petrenko's tempi were on the slow side, more langorous than orgasmic, but coolness works better with the "Abendstern" imagery, and the idea of the Moon. (Wagner would,of course, have been familiar with Goethe and his relationship with the Duchess of Weimar.)  The orchestral playing was well judged and rather elegant, again matching the marble and silk stylishness of the staging.  I would have liked more punch in the Pilgrimage music to emphasize themes of movement and physical travail.  Still, in music as good as this, there's plenty of room for interpretation.

Excellence from Munich is pretty much the norm. What's "news" is the staging,. It's controversial because it's not simplistic, and can be unsettling. Lots of stylized symbolism and abstraction, but also a lot of detail to reward careful observation.  Plinths with key words like "Kunst" spell things out to make things clear.  Amidst the sterile orderliness, a glass case with squirming, indistinct objects, like trapped life forms.   Rocks are seen, from which gold can be extracted - a metaphor for Tannhäuser's development as man and artist. The Minnesingers seen wrapped in white, like nuns and curtains like shrouds. This is by no means as strange as it seems, since they are a mystical order, vowed to purity and self denial.  To Wagner and to Tannhäuser, asceticism is living death, a rejection of creative growth.  The Minnesingers don't know what they're missing because they block out the world.  That's why they're so scared when Tannhäuser praises Venus.  Tannhäuser and Elisabeth sing to each other in front of tomb-like structures with the names "Klaus" and "Anja" carved thereon. An interesting if quirky way of reinforcing the idea that art is an act of creative imagination, made by living people. 

The director, Romeo Castellucci, is new to me. He seems to do a lot of theatre work, hence perhaps the formal, stylized abstraction of the designs, costumes and lighting.  Much more intriguing, though, is the thought that clearly went into the dramaturgy, by Piersandra Di Matteo and Malte Krasting. Opera is more than ear candy. Especially opera by Wagner, for whom ideas, drama and the human condition were inextricably linked.  These days the word "concept" is used as a swear word, but all it means is joined-up thinking, connecting different ideas, examining things from different perspectives. Di Matteo and Krasting understand how the music connects to ideas, and how this opera connects to Wagner's other work and even extra-musical concepts like classical antiquity. The staging is a lot closer to the libretto than meets the eye.  Tannhäuser is allegory, a fantasy, a work of art about art.  How else does a medieval German hook up with a Greek Goddess? And as Tannhäuser discovered, an artist needs to create to live, to keep learning and keep developing.  He chose the more difficult path to Rome. The Pope didn't understand, but too bad.  His loss, not Tannhäuser's.

Strauss Choir and Elgar Symphony Petrenko Prom 19

A Strauss choral work and an Elgar symphony - Vassily Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra shook things up with devastating impact at Prom 19.  Strauss's Festival Prelude was written for a grand occasion - the opening of a new concert hall in Vienna in 1913. It's a massive, no-holds-barred piece glorying in drama and excess, ideal for grand surroundings like the Royal Albert Hall  Strauss packs intense power concentrated in a relatively short piece. All those instruments have to make their mark - no room for messing about. Petrenko and his orchestra seemed electrified - taut, energetic tempi, perfect cohesion, every note making an impact. Such vibrant energy,  We know now what Strauss didn't know in 1913. The Hapsburgs  and the gilded magnificence they stood for would be deposed.  Vienna, once capital of a great  empire, would be become capital of a truncated rump. But for a moment, Petrenko made it come alive again. He made us feel the optimism, the bravado, the sense of limitless confidence. This piece is standard Proms fare, but I don't think Ive ever heard it conducted with so much intelligence or purpose.

This set the scene for  Strauss's Deutsche Motette, also from 1913. This piece is even more remarkable, technically, because Strauss does with voices what he does with orchestration. This is a choral piece that defies normal convention. The four basic blocks  of voice type are refined, so the piece operates in 16 parts, blending sounds in a wash of extreme subtlety. Strauss didn't have much time for oratorios and  choral tradition. In Deutsche Motette he redefines the rules. His text is based on Friedrich Rückert's poem Die Schöpfung ist zur Ruh' gegangen,,  (all creation is at rest). The poet describes a panoramic landscape, rendered still in the silence of the night. "Es will der Schlaf auch mich befangen,"  sleep as a form of suspended animation. The balance of voices is essential, for nothing must destabilize this hypnotic magic, lest the spell be broken. A metaphor, too, for the world of 1913, now lost forever.

Exceptionally beautiful singing. This piece is a tour de force requiring great co-operation between singers, though each voice must remain distinct.  Suzanne Shakespeare sang the soprano part, Tara Erraught the mezzo, Adrian Dwyer the tenor and Brindley Sherratt the bass, backed by the BBC Singers.  In a performance as good as this, it would be a bit unfair to pick out exceptional singing but Sherratt and Erraught stood out like stars in the firmament, their lower timbre reinforcing the mystical sensuality at the heart of the piece.

Inger Dam-Jensen was the soloist in Strauss Four Last Songs, also magical songs on the theme of sleep and death. Whoever planned this Prom programme knows their music. Nearly 40 years after the Deutsche Motette, perhaps Strauss was looking back on his life and the world he had known. Although we've all heard more ideal performances of these songs (and the maddeningly superficial Prom with Christine Brewer) , listening to Dam-Jensen with lingering memories of the Deutsche Motette made this a performance to remember fondly.

Liverpool, the Cinderella of British cities, has much to be proud of in Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra.  They're a wonderful team. It's a shame we in London don't get to hear enough of them. They're developing a unique sound - vivid and rejuvenating   Petrenko loves Elgar, and hears in him a "Russian soul".  Elgar's Symphony no 2 sounds mysterious with Petrenko. Even the "windflower" motif breezes along elusively. There are many cryptic clues in Elgar's music, many of which will never be solved. Four-square performances may be more common, but Petrenko's approach in many ways gets closer to the magic behind the notes.