Comic book shallow Lohengrin, Bayreuth

photo : Bayreuther Festspiele : E Narwath

 When Piotr Beczała jumped in for Lohengrin at Bayreuth, I breathed a sigh of relief. If Roberto Alagna couldn't be bothered to learn the part for the highest profile Wagner mecca in the world, he should stick to other things. Though there were a few moments when his voice sounded pushed - hardly surprising since he jumped in at short notice - Beczała is a natural Lohengrin, with the right purity and ping.  He's at least thought about who Lohengrin might be, which ought to be the starting point of any production.  Why is Lohengrin so touchy about revealing his identity ? If he believes in love, should't he at least acknowledge Elsa's need to know who she might be sleeping with  "If" might be the operative word. Lohengrin carries cosmic baggage.  Beczała created a "human" Lohengrin, ethereal and sublime, but also a man with conflicts.  Wagner poses questions : it's up to us to figure out possible answers.  Alas, this production, directed by Yuval Sharon, goes out of its way to avoid depth of thought or understanding.

Is Wagner without ideas Wagner at all  ?  Sharon gives us comic book shallowness, cutesy visuals that resolutely defy anything more than surface engagement.  Lohengrin isn't a fairy tale. Though parts of the plot are fantasy, the drama unfolds against a background of tension and metaphysical disintegration. King Heinrich comes to Brabant to mobilize Christendom against the barbarians of the East, and Ortrud represents a tradition even older than Christianity.  Replace that with faux-medieval costumes, origami collars and cartoon psychology and reduce the opera to picture book emptiness.   Blue light does not in itself tell the story, even if it fulfils the modern diktat that opera should above all be pretty to look at in isolated stills. How can  Lohengrin be merely "beautiful" when horrific cosmic forces  are being unleashed all round  ? 

Christian Thielemann's conducting is divine, but even with a good cast,  he's not a magician. We now live in times so bombarded by TV-realism and audio-only listening that we may have lost the art of visual literacy.  Visual literacy is like poetry.  Just as music is more than the markings on page, you have to engage with the oblique and ambiguous, one way or another. there's never any single answer.  Refusing to think in the first place is no answer at all.   As in poetry, meaning reveals itself slowly, and evolves.  Modern audiences, used to judging things from single images, like photos, are conditioned to think like Beckmesser, marking their slates as fast as they can, without really paying attention.  Sachs was different.

So we see Elsa (Anja Harteros) with moth wings on her back ?   Of course she's vulnerable, but she's a lot more than anonymous cipher.  What's that coil behind her ? If Sharon is suggesting Elsa's a bug drawn to bright light, it's an image that doesn't go very far and isn't developed.  So we see swords embedded in the ground. Vaguely phallic, but there's more to Lohengrin than sex.  On the 3Sat broadcast, we could see Telramund (Tomacz Konieczny) and Ortrud (Waltraud Meier), lit up against the darkness, which might either have been a comment on their situatiion or a chance to get away from the cutesy staging.  Ortrud is an unsympathetic part, especially in contrast to Elsa. But there;s a lot more to it, which Meier in her prime might have made more of.  Here, she's fine to listen to, but she doesn't inhabit the part as she she would have done in the past, and isn't helped by the non-directing. Harteros is a fine Elsa, but why the grey wig. Images should hint at something, not merely exist as decoration. Why is a guy painting in oils before the entry of the Herald ?   Another possible image that goes nowhere.  Even more telling, Georg Zeppenfeld's King Heinrich, so well characterized in the recent Royal Opera House Lohengrin (please read more here), seemed sidelined in Bayreuth.  Butterfly wings appear on Ortrud and also on Lohengrin, for no apparent purpose.  the insect imagery seemed a direct steal from the Neuenfel's rats Lohengrin, which was much better thought through. (Please read more here)

Wonderful orchestra and chorus for the wedding scene, but I couldn't understand the brightly coloured pillars.  You don't need to get everything at once, and good stagings can take a while to digest, but this baffled me.  The coils again   The rope might signify the ties that bind, but as we know, this isn't a marriage that will last, and the violence against women in this opera doesn't come just from Lohengrin, but more so from the people of Brabant.  Thank goodness again for Beczała singing sublimely, clear, ringing tones warmed with sincerity and tenderness. Magnificent orchestral, playing for the scenee of the banks of the Scheldt, but comic book staging again, complete with cardboard cut-outs.  Later Lohengrin's sword becomes a thunderbolt and Lohengrin shows Elsa a box with a light, by way of explainging who he is.  The feeble electric coil/moth imagery again !  It's cute, but delimiting. Then little brother Gottfried wanders in, a green Lego figure against Elsa's orange and the blue all round.  This Lohengrin should be popular with audiences who prize fairy tale prettiness but arguably that isn't what Lohengrin, or Wagner, for that matter, might be about. Thank goodness, all the more,  for Piotr Beczała, Thielemann and the rest of the cast for saving the show.

Outstanding Parsifal-aware Lohengrin Royal Opera House

Klaus Florian Vogt and Thomas J Mayer, copyright Tristram Kenton, Royal Opera House

Wagner Lohengrin at the Royal Opera House.With some of the finest Lohengrin, most experienced specialists in the business - Klaus Florian Vogt,  Andris Nelsons and Georg Zeppenfeld - this was guaranteed to be an overwhelming musical experience.   Outstanding richness and depth in the orchestra,  with the scene on the Scheldt materializing in the music with such dramatic power  that anyone, even the most anti-war, could believe, for a moment in what was later to be called the "First Reich".   Horns and trumpets blazed from all round the Royal Opera House building, most appropriately from the Royal Box itself, bringing a vast, invisible army into the semi-civilized confines of an opera house. "Für deutsches Land das deutsche Schwert! So sei des Reiches Kraft bewährt!". 

Brabant is in turmoil, but only part of a wider struggle of cosmic proportions.  Heinrich der Vogler might have been a real person but Lohengrin is opera, not history.  For Wagner, Lohengrin isn't "just" a war story but the continuation (in advance, given that Lohengrin came before Parsifal) of a struggle between pseudo-Christianity and demonic forces.  If Lohengrin descends (somehow) from Parsifal, then Ortrud and Telramund connect to Klingsor and Kundry, their sexes reversed.  Hence the paranoia that underlies this opera and its strange, mystical resolution. And in times of extremist hysteria, the individual is suppressed. Elsa needs a super-hero, but when she gets one, he turns out not to be quite the man of her dreams.  The people of Brabant are conformists, easily swayed. Not so different from the modern world.  So it's nonsense to call David Alden's production "updating" or even semi-Third Reich. Grandiose manias, grandiose buildings and monotone masses have gone together since the dawn of history.

Thus the Prelude, conducted by Andris Nelsons with sublime purity, so the sounds seemed to shimmer with ethereal light. If Nelsons can do richness, he's even better at creating subtle atmosphere. Gradually, the mists give way to light, and the drama can begin. The King listens to Telramund's accusations and Elsa's strangely inert defence. But  lo ! Alden's staging (sets Paul Steinberg, video Tal Rosner, lighting Adam Silverman) creates the entry of the Saviour (for that is what Lohengrin is).  Huge, dark ripples projected over the stage suggested the movement of waves, concentric circles stretching outward, with flashes showing the wings of a large flying bird.   In this opera, it is not the swan boat per se that counts, but the imagery of water, and the theological connotations thereof. Again, think Parsifal.  The pettiness and intrigure of Court wiped clean away by the appearnce of the champion.

Significantly, Lohengrin is first seen with his back to the audience, his voice projecting to the back of the stage, intensifying the sense of mystery.  This is an interpretive insight, for Lohengrin isn't here "for" Elsa but for an unknown higher purpose.  Veiling Klaus Florian Vogt's magnificent voice in this way also serves to stress the character's innate humility. Unlike kings and intriguers, Lohengrin is above petty power games.  When Vogt turned round, his voice grew with the strength that comes from absolute confidence. "Ein Wunder ! Ein Wunder!" indeed.  Vogt has done Lohengrin so many times over the last 20 years (including with Nelsons)  that his voice should be familiar to all, but yet again, I was astonished by its flexibility and beauty.  Almost superhuman purity, so natural and unforced that it seems to come from within., not merely from technique. This is true artistry. Vogt is a Lohengrin for the ages: How blessed we are to hear him. 

Lohengrin spares Telramund, who confronts Ortrud, who set him up in the first place. The relationship between Ortrud and Telramund suggests the relationship between Klingsor and Kundry, this time the dominant partner female rather than male (though Klingsor isn't male any more). Ortrud is the last of the ancient house of Radbod, Telramund drawn to her by his greed for power, though he blames her when he fails. They  are important characters, not quite as secondary as they might seem, so deserve the attention they are given in this production.  Thomas J Mayer is a good Telramund, and  Christine Goerke is a magnificent Elektra amongst many others: particularly good in roles where the character is strong and proactive, if misunderstood.  Ortrud is forced by fate into dangerous measures.  We're not supposed to like Ortrud but Goerke develops the part so we can sense the woman behind the monster, sensuality behind piercing steel, her voice her sword.  Elsa always takes centre stage, but Ortrud is a far more complex personality, and needs singers like Goerke who can express the depths in the otherwise thankless part.  To some extent, sexuality is involved, as so often in Wagner.  Telramund had wanted to marry Elsa, but married Ortrud instead, and sex is very much part of their alliance.  But more pointedly, why does Lohengrin, a pure knight, want to marry ? The big bed, the wedding songs etc hint at the procreative purpose of marriage. Maybe it's convenient that Elsa asks the forbidden question  and needs to know who he really is. Like his father, Lohengrin doesn't follow through but returns to his higher mission.  Gottfried, the true heir of Brabant, will arise again at the end of the opera, resurrected from the non-dead without much explanation.

The entry into the bridal chamber was introduced with such vitality by Nelsons and the ROH Orchestra that the staging, for once, did intrude. With music as gloriously performed as this, there was no need to distract by having actors run in between the seats. In the orchestra stalls, where we were seated, it was annoying and would probably have been missed by anyone further above.  Jennifer Davis sang Elsa at short notice in place of Christina Opolais (who's getting divorced from Nelsons). In the Second Act, she showed her mettle, singing with more volume and colour than she had in the First Act. While she doesn't have the depth of, say, Annette Dasch or Anna Netrebko, two fairly recent Elsas with robust personalities, she's still young and will develop over time.  In this Third Act, in the bridal gown, Davis's good looks expressed the part impressively.  Vogt looked genuinely protective, the luminosity of his singing taking on warmth andmasculine  tenderness.   As Elsa became more petulant, Lohengrin became more alarmed, and in Vogt, we could hear heartfelt regret.  Telramund breaks in - symbolically breaking the hymen in this staging - Lohengrin impaling him on his sword, handed to him by his bride. (Lest anyone query the imagery, it's in the plot).

Significantly, Wagner immediately moves the action back to  the armies assembled on the banks of the Scheldt, the conflict between East and West taking precedence over personal tragedy.  Earlier above I described the phenomenal impact of the musical introduction to this scene.   Nelsons led the orchestra with such intensity that the musical logic carried all before it. Whatever questions may be embedded in the plot,  "Wir geben Fried und Folge dem Gebot!", just as Wagner intended.   Intensity of a different, otherworldly kind, when Lohengrin explains what is about to happen. Vogt has sung "Im fernen Land" many times, and, if anything, his delivery glows with maturity. We forget that it's a "hard sing" testing range and heft, but Vogt illuminated it as if transfigured., yet still tinged with human suffering. The conjuction of Lohengrin, Parsifal and Christ may be theologically way off beam, but in Wagnerian terms, it's perfectly apt.  The King in this opera isn't a fighter, but a judge, almost a Pilate figure, hence the excellent characterization by Georg Zeppenfeld, delivering with real authority. No glitz and gold, but a man of depth.  Notice, neither Wagner's Heinrich nor Lohengrin are men of impulsive violence. Toward the end, Vogt walked quietly to the back of the stage.  Gottfried appeared, and Nelsons ended the performance with a magnificent final coda.

Cast and conductor made this a memorable experience, but the production itself will be worth reviving because it’ss well thought through and true to meaning. Infinitely more  conducive to inspired performance that the old production where the singers were trapped in dalek suits. 

Mein lieber Schwan ! Lohengrin Klaus Florian Vogt ?

FOR MY REVIEW OF THE ROH production please READ HERE Parsifal-inspired Lohengrin Get past the 30's surface and it's a much deeper production than most 

FOR MY REVIEW OF THE ROH production please READ HERE Parsifal-inspired Lohengrin Get past the 30's surface and it's a much deeper production than most 

Flaming June - Lohengrin and more!

Summer is at last upon us !  The big, big event is Lohengrin at the Royal Opera House starting Thursday 7th.  Klaus Florian Vogt is the Lohengrin of choice these days.  He and Andris Nelsons have done Lohengrin in the past, including at Bayreuth.  Word from those who have been in on things suggests that they're on top form. This should be memorable ! Nelsons could have been a cert for Bayreuth, Berlin and Lucerne but missed out by leaving Birmingham too early.  Fortunately for us, and him, Lucerne and Leipzig are hardly small time.  Luckily, conductors have a long shelf life so good things lie ahead.  Kristine Opolais was to have sung Eva, but she and Nelsons are getting divorced, so Elsa von Brabant will now be taken by Jennifer Davis, a member of the Jette Parker Young Artists Programme 2015–17. But Christine Goerke is making her role debut as Ortrud, which is thrilling. Every performance brings out something new in an opera. A very strong and dynamic Ortrud could bring out the demonic levels in this opera. Ortrud is the Klingsor of Lohengrin ! and the part is much bigger. Thomas  Mayer sings Telramund, and   Georg Zeppenfeld - another reliable Wagner stalwart - sings Heinrich der Vögler.  This is a new production, directed by David Alden with a set by Paul Steinberg, so expect strong lines.  There is a lot more to Lohengrin than kitsch ! The costumes for the last production were a joke, so heavy and dalek-like that they must have been torture to move around in : singers need to feel comfortable to do their best, so treating them as props instead of people is not conducive to art.

At the Barbican on Monday 4th June, Franco Fagioli sings Vivaldi with the Venice Baroque Orchestra (Gianpiero Zannoco), which should be splendid, and on Friday 8th  Paul Agnew  conducts Le Jardin des Voix and Les Arts Florissants in a programme devised to "paint the whole landscape of English song, from the Tudor court to the Georgian era. Music by Dowland, Gibbons, Purcell, Handel and Boyce". Major Bach weekend coming up 15th to 17th June with John Eliot Gardiner and the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists. Bach cantatas, motets, sonatas and more, with soloists Isabelle Faust, Jean Rondeau and Jean Guihen-Queyras.

At the Wigmore Hall, Sunday 3rd June, Shakespeare and Music with Anna Prohaska and the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin (Georg Kallweit) - settings of Shakespeare by Purcell, Dowland, John Blow and Matthew Locke. On Tuesday 5th June, Stéphane Degout sings Fauré, Brahms and Schumann (Kernerlieder).  On Monday 11th, Collegium Vocale Gent bring an all de Lassus programme.  Ian Bostridge, Christine Rice and the interesting young cellist Edgar Moreau coming up, too.  He's doing Franck, Poulenc and Strohl.  And of course, Imogen Cooper on 26th June.

At the South Bank. standard warhorses, Fauré Requiem, Symphonie Fantastique etc with reliable conductors like Jarvi and Dohnanyi.  The real star events are at the end of the month. On 26th, Dangerous Liaisons with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment - " the sounds of Versailles, blending elegant French dance from the court of Louis XIV with greatest hits of French music from the era." in semi staged,  performances with DANCE of music by Lully, Charpentier, Clérambault, Destouyches and Rameau.  Then on 28th Schoenberg Gurrelieder with Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Philharmonia, which was brilliant when they did it in 2007 and should be even better now. This I booked a year in advance.  Seats still available in the rear stalls, but that's OK. Gurrelieder is loud, sound won't get sucked away under the balcony overhang.

In previous years the month of June meant, for me, Garsington Opera and the Aldeburgh Festival. Garsington is still going strong but Aldeburgh has become as stale as BBC Radio 3. What's the point of going any more, especially if the music is better in London ?

Lohengrin Wiener Staatsoper Klaus Florian Vogt

"Lass zu dem Glauben dich bekehren: Es gibt ein Glück, das ohne Reu! " sings Elsa von Brabant, confronting Ortrud. At this point, Eva's love for her mystery Knight is so pure, that she asks no questions. Happiness, with no regret or doubt. But then she goes on to grill her bridegroom, and all falls apart. Why shouldn't a girl know who she's getting into bed with? Why is the secret so extreme that Lohengrin must reject this great love for Montsalvat? Wagner Lohengrin at the Wiener Staatsoper was live screened last night. and should, hopefully be available in the archive. Watch it if you can, because it's very thoughtful indeed, and links Lohengrin to Parsifal on many intriguing levels.  Plus the singing - Klaus Florian Vogt is divine and conductor Mikko Frank reveals sonorous, disturbing mysteries in the score.

The motto "Es gibt ein  Glück" appears on the drop cloth, and later in a painting on the back wall of the set, much as in the way mottos - and hearts - appear so often in traditional German settings.  Heinrich "der Deutschen König", with his Saxons and Thuringians, has come to Brabant, then one of the Frankish lands. Dressed in fustian and Lederhosen, they present an image of German-ness at once domestic and militaristic.These men are in armour, though their uniform, their buttoned-up jackets suggesting repressed violence and conformity, much more effectively than flashy mock medieval coats of armour or neo-Nazi brownshirts. Thus Elsa (Camilla Nylund)  in her white shift seems painfully exposed. Ortrud (Michaela Martens) girded in metal-studded velvet is every inch a warrior. Telramund (Wolfgang Koch) is a convincing leader but also compromised and world-weary. When Lohengrin appears, he's in a white shift which billows like the wings of a swan. It's a provocative reference to the way Parsifal wandered into the Grail community. Director Andreas Homoki uses costume to amplify character. As the balance of power shifts, Elsa and Lohengrin dress up while Ortrud dresses down.

The simplicity of the set focuses  attention on the singing and on the dynamics between singers. The folkloric setting also emphasizes the divison between men and women, another subtle counterpoint to the misogynist world of Montsalvat. The women of Brabant know their place in society but support Elsa. The chorus in the wedding is delightfully lyrical. The staging once again evokes the image of a swan. In the prologue, Nylund held a swan while she played with her brother: clearly it's a symbol of purity and innocence. Yet swans are mute until they die. Homoki hints at levels of interpretation but keeps them elusive. Later, when Lohengrin prepares to take his leave, Vogt is seen writhing on the ground, his body twitching like a dying bird. His acting is extraordinarily moving, suggesting pain and regret. "Es gibt ein Glück, das ohne Reu!" resounds, unspoken, in memory. 

Camilla Nylund's voice is pure, and the clarity of her diction suggests underlying strength of character. Nylund's Elsa interacts well with Michaela Marten's Ortrud.  Neither of them are exaggerated stereotypes, both feel like real women caught up in an extreme situation. Wolfgang Koch's Telramund is no monster : the softer inflections in his voice suggest a man trapped almost against his will. Günther Groissböck's Heinrich der Vogler is cleanly assertive - we can savour the interplay between tenor, baritone and bass and ponder even more hidden levels of meaning. Detlev Roth makes the Herald feel much more part of the proceedings than usual. Altogether, this Lohengrin feels deeply human and all the more compelling for that reason

But as I said earlier, Klaus Florian Vogt is divine.  He has created the role  numerous times, yet manages to make this portrayal sparkle with freshness and individuality. In his Act Three dialogue with Nylund's Elsa, Vogt's voice becomes powerfully intense: is this the battle he has been sent to be tested for? Saving Elsa from the court of judgement was easy in comparison. When Vogt sings In fernem Land, his voice seems to radiate a spiritual quality.  His voice softens for a moment on the words "meine Lieber Schwan" then moves on ever more refined, as if he's reaching apotheosis. [His performance moved me so much that I haven't stopped wondering about the role. Have the Grail Knights, despite the intervention of Parsifal, continued in their old ways ?  Whoever his mother is, has Lohengrin been sent to learn the errors of blind faith and obedience without question?]  After listening to this Vienna Lohengrin, I listened again to the recent Munich and Milan  Lohengrin with Jonas Kaufmann. Kaufmann fans will want to kill me, but Klaus Florian Vogt (whose range is higher)  is in an altogether more elevated league.

Kaufmann Lohengrin La Scala Barenboim

Gala nights at Teatro alla Scala Milan are big occasions. There's often a political dimension becaue Italians take opera seriously. In 2010, there were demonstrations and Daniel Bareboim made a passionate speech from the podium .This year the fact that Wagner was chosen instead of Verdi was an issue, and some politicians didn't attend. This year, the performance wasn't screened live in cinemas outside Italy. Perhaps they wanted to preserve the exclusive cachet.  But seat sales aren't the way the market works anymore. Thwarted of the usual cinemas screenings, audiences outside Italy watched the broadcast via arte.tv.

The cast list was stellar: Jonas Kaufmann as Lohengrin, René Pape, Annette Dasch, Evelyn Herlitzius, Tómas Tómasson. Even the Heerfufer (Herald) was tops :Zeljko Lucic. Since Barenboim has been associated with Wagner most of his adult life, the performance was never in any danger of being a disappointment. Surprisingly, though, some of the singing wasn't quite as good as might have been expected. Tómasson's Telramund suffered vocal roughness, particularly in the first act, though he picked up later. Even Kaufmann wasn't quite his usual, luminous, lyrical self.  But it was plenty good enough, we can't expect extreme perfection all the time.

Annette Dasch pretty much stole the show. She sang Elsa at Bayreuth in the Hans Neuenfels production (more here). She was so good that I for one wasn't heartbroken when Anja Harteros pulled out at the last moment. Dasch doesn't fit the cliché of Elsa as passive victim waiting for a handsome prince : she's too strong a personality, and too vivid. A voice with that luscious richness couldn't sound wan. Besides, Elsa is a Wagner heroine. Like Brünnhilde, Isolde and Senta, she finds solutions. Brabant is in chaos because Elsa's brother Gottfried, the rightful heir, has disappeared. Telramund accuses Elsa. If she's eliminated, Ortrud can rule and restore her ancient gods. This isn't merely a struggle for succession but a struggle between cosmic forces

If Ortrud can use magic, Elsa can call on supernatural forces. The libretto refers to her as in ruhiger Verklärung vor sich hinblickend (quietly transfixed, staring ahead of her, as if unaware of the crowds around her). Elsa may not even know it, but she can call on some deep subconscious force to help her survive. The Grail community isn't real, and indeed, goes against Christian theology. Is Lohengrin a kind of instinctive wish fulfillment?

Claus Guth's staging addresses Lohengrin on a psychological level. This Brabant isn't historic. When the real Heinrich der Vogler lived, Ortrud's gods had long been replaced by Christianity. In Wagner's time, though, Germany existed as a collection of small states. If Guth sets this Brabant firmly in the mid 19th century, he's closer to the deeper spirit of the opera than the kitsch pageantry of Moshinksy, where decor replaces drama. The darkness in Guth's production throws focus on the characters.  Telramund and Elsa are buttoned-up power figures. Gottfried is seen with a "young" version of Elsa, reminding us how strongly Elsa and Gottfried were bonded.

In the libretto, Wagner makes a point of referring to Lohengrin's horn, a detail often overlooked by stagings which emphasize the mein lieber Schwan image.  Guth shows that this detail is no accident. What other Wagner hero carries a horn? Siegfried, who saves Brünnhilde from her prison.  Later, when Kaufmann's Lohengrin contemplates the dilemma Elsa puts him in, he cradles it like a child seeks help from a comfort object. In the First Act, there's a piano on stage as Ortrud and Teltramund accuse Elsa. At the end, when Lohengrin departs, the piano appears again among the reeds by the lake. Is it Elsa's equivalent of a horn? Music has the power to lift us out of dilemmas. Imagination is a positive form of magic, with which Ortrud's repressive spells cannot compete.

Heinrich and Telramund are officers, but the Brabanters are decamisados. Lohengrin doesn't need a shining swan suit: he's a Romantic hero, in an open collar shirt, like a poet. When  Kaufmann first materializes, he's curled in a foetal position, twitching like a bird breaking out of its shell.  Later, as he's about to return to Monsalvat, he's barefoot again, splashing in the water around him.  Elsa remains in her finery, albeit dishevelled. She and Lohengrin inhabit different worlds. Essentially, he's a creature of Nature, and she the type he needs to frame him with a name. Lohengrin teeters on a narrow pier above the lake, torn dangerously between earth and water. Later, when Gottfried reappears, he stands on the pier. Elsa reaches out but falls.

Musically, this La Scala Lohengrin is satisying though not quite as great as it could be. Guth's staging may not please the glam and glitter crowd but it's a whole lot more perceptive.

Atmosphèric Lohengrin Berliner Phil Prom Ligeti Wagner Sibelius

At BBC Prom 63, Simon Rattle brought the Berliner Philharmoniker and did more than just play. They illuminated their music. Ligeti's Atmosphères, Wagner's Act 1 Prelude to Lohengrin, Sibelius Symphony no 4, combined in a flowing seam where each highlighted the other.

The long, reverberating opening chord of Ligeti's Atmosphères gives way to layer after layer of extended sounds. This really is "music from another planet", emanations so pure, high and unnaturally sustained that it must be hell to play. No "melody" as such, but changes of direction and density. Long hollow chords which seem to move from some extraterrestial plane, heralding a rumble from which other chords arise. Low brass pulsate, and the strings shimmer, like rays of light stretching outwards, accelerating in intensity. When I was a kid I used to look up at the sky and think think that shafts of sunlight bursting from clouds were "God", for that's how an abstract idea like God is depicted in religious imagery.

Above all, Ligeti's Atmosphères suggests a soaring sense of infinite expansiveness. Hearing the first strains of Wagner emerge from Ligeti  rings absolutely true in a deeper spiritual sense. Lohengrin isn't historical. Christianity had long since been established by the time Heinrich der Vogler came to Brabant. or he wouldn't be fighting the Huns. In any case, what's authentic about  Lohengrin or the whole Grail community for that matter? From a theological perspecvtive it's hogwash, if not outright blasphemy.  What the Grail represents, however, is something much more primeval than Christianity. It's an ideal that transcends time and context. Hearing this Prelude after Ligeti suggests that Grail values transcend human history, and derive from the cosmos. It goes without saying that the Berliner Philharmonikers are good. Here, they were exceptional. It wasn't just the beauty of their playing, it was the emotional committment .

Theodor Adorno hated Sibelius, in part because performance practice in those days emphasized the  picturesque aspects of his music rather than the innate structural qualities. Sibelius Fourth Symphony was a breakthrough, so shocking in its time that many thought it incomprehensible. In this performance, Rattle and the Berliners show how visionary Sibelius really was. Dark, primordial undercurrents, rent through by blasts of sharply defined chords. The imagery of light in Wagner, the  idea of abstract eternity in Ligeti.  The winds of change so familiar in Sibelius seem to blow from a higher level of consciousness. Sibelius's interest in the Kalevala and nature wasn't regressive but forward thinking. This performance emphasized the "wide open spaces" in the symphony, and the thrill of discovery that makes Sibelius so exciting from a modern perspective. How radical that ending sounds, considering when it was written.

Rattle and the Berliners changed focus in the second part of Prom 63. Ostensibly the connection between Debussy's Jeux and Ravel's Daphnis et Chloe is ballet, but that's simplistic. Ballet music is constrained by the limits of the human body, but abstract music isn't. By choosing the Suite on Daphnis et Chloe rather than the full piece, Rattle could focus on the brisk liveliness in both works. In Debussy, the pace was tempered by a good sense of structure. Games, after all, depend on strategy not impulse. In the Suite from Daphnis et Chloe, Rattle and the Berliners could let loose with greater exuberance, capturing its innate spirit of freedom. Not, after all, so very different from the light-filled, open horizons of Ligeti, Wagner and Sibelius.

Champagne and bombs - highs and lows of 2011

What fizzed and what fell flat? Some real surprises and not quite what you'd expect. Safe top choice, Gounod Faust at the Royal Opera House. No compromise on the economic mess, top quality production, top quality singing. More adventurous top choice, Puccini Il Trittico, also ROH, and especially Suor Angelica. "ReNUNciation" - a Cinderella opera to the fore, great singing from Anna Larsson and Ermolena Jaho. Another mega hit, Mozart Don Giovanni at Teatro alla Scala, Milan. Fabulous singing, intelligent staging, provocative approach. When this comes out on DVD, get it.

Productions which help you re-assess wehat you think you knew are usually the most rewarding. We've all seen the same old production of Verdi La Traviata so many times, and Alfredo is almost always a lightweight. So when Piotr Beczala turned the role into a major creation, all assumptions overturned.  It was like hearing the opera afresh, from a new perspective. This is a singer who really knows what he's doing and is genuinely well informed about historic tenor style. There is so much hype about these days, but Beczala is the genuine article, who delivers beautifully, without fuss.

For the same reason I loved Wagner Lohengrin from Bayreuth. Hans Neuenfels rats make you realize that the opera is about Brabant and why people want to control it. The rats are funny, tragic, scary, but more "human" than the main characters. It's a completely different perspective and once the shock value wears off, makes the opera much deeper emotionally and intellectually. Obviously we won't get rats again, but this production is seminal because it expands understanding,

For non-staged opera, Handel Alcina at the Barbican, conducted by Marc Minkowski, part of an excellent series there of operas on the theme of Orlando Furioso, which were very good, with specialist French casts and players., At the South Bank, Bartók's Duke Bluebeard's Castle. Tomlinson, DeYoung and Salonen showed how it should be heard and the semi staging showed how it can be seen. Probably way above the heads of those who don't relate to the quirkiness of this opera. At the ENO, Rameau's Castor and Pollux was also beyond those who couldn't see past the sex. Shocking, but not wrong. The whole point of the opera is that it's an allegory about the dangers of physical excess! So those who think it "must" be pretty because it's baroque need to study it and its period more carefully.

Popular opinion means nothing. Because Monty Python has many fans, most people loved Terry Gilliams's Berlioz Damnation of Faust for its cheap gags and irony-free racism.Unfortunately it proved Mel Brooks's adage about "Springtime for Hitler". People follow crowds when they don't think, in art as well as in politics. OTOH , I learned to love Rimsky-Korsakov's The Tsar's Bride at the Royal Opera House, not from the dull, lacklustre conducting by Mark Elder but from listening to Russian recordings afterwards, which bring out its true violent pungency. Then the mafia staging made total sense. Pity everyone else seemed to expect Sheherazade.  Similarly, to my surprise, I actually got a kick from Mark-Anthony Turnage's Anna Nicole at the ROH despite the first act longeurs. Anna Nicole was hype, so the opera was a daring statement onn the dangers of trash, an irony lost on many.

On the other hand, 2011 saw other mega-hype bubbles burst (while some still grow). Both Havergal Brian and Mieczsyslaw Weinberg have been plagued for decades by "fans" who may not actually know their music but boost their own cachet by pretending to.  Brian's Gothic Symphony received its best ever performance and highest profile at the Proms, but killed the myth.  Similarly Weinberg's The Passenger (ENO) and The Portrait (Opera North) revealed the music for what it is. Fake fans went ballistic when their bluff was called. That's a good indicator of hype. Genuine music lovers can discuss things rationally. Fashion victims can't. Please see the comments under my post on Dudamel's Mahler at the Proms for more evidence. For much the same reasons, I didn't even bother with Nico Muhly's Two Boys, having spent 18 months trying desperately  to make sense of his other music. My theory is that the Met wanted to outdo the ROH's coup in getting a new opera by a major British composer, so the Met invested huge money in creating Muhly. At least Turnage already existed and had a genuine track record.

This year I've done a lot less orchestral music, song and recordings than I used to (well over 400 a year, once). I loved Vladimir Jurowski's Liszt Faust Symphony at the Proms, and Andrew Davis's Elgar Caractacus at the Three Choirs Festival.  Also Boulez Pli selon Pli, with Barbara Hannigan and Ensemble Intercontemporain, though it was the end of a long tour. Earlier performances must have been mind blowing! Although I've been doing Lieder for more than 40 years, most recitals this year were good rather than exceptional, and there were a few disappointments. A quiet patch, maybe. Recordings-wise, I loved José Serebrier's Dvořák Symphony no 9 "The New World", vindicating studio performance as an art form. Best CD of the year, though, has got to be Pierre Boulez's CD of Szymanowski's Symphony no 3 with the Wiener Philharmoniker. This is so astonishing, it ranks among my top favourites of all time. If you think you know Boulez, or if you think you know Szymanowski, listen to this. It's a revelation. Boulez is conducting two concerts at the Barbican next year, one in April with Tetzlaff and Scriabin, the other in May with Znaider and Szymanowski 3. I booked a year ago.

Rats raid Bayreuth - Lohengrin Review

Many will run, shrieking like rats from a sinking ship when they see this production of Wagner 's Lohengrin from Bayreuth, the famous Neuenfels Rats production. But steel your nerves and watch in online on demand from Siemens AG (link HERE) until 30th August. View more than once, there's a lot to take in. It's an experience that makes you appreciate just how radically original Wagner can be. Shocking as it is, this production is created with insight. Those who prefer kitsch to Wagner can leave the ship for those who care about Wagner as a thinker on an audacious scale.

Take Wagner literally and you're the fool. The real King Heinrich defeated the hordes from the East in 933 CE.  By which time Brabant had been firmly Christian for 500 years. Ortrud would not have been a strategic match for Telramund. She'd have been burnt at the stake. Then Lohengrin appears, conjured up by Elsa's dream. Ortrud's right: Elsa should know who she's marrying. Lohengrin reveals he's the son of Parsifal and comes from a strange cult at Monsalvat, where they talk Christ but practise blasphemy. Lohengrin's name is the least of the questions she should be asking.

And who are these Brabanters whom everyone wants to protect? Usually they're depicted as irrelevant ormnamental background. Here they're rats, in ingenious costumes. They hold their bodies like rats, and twitch. They move in massed groups like rats do. Yet they have individual personalities, like humans. They're even cute! Suddenly, the focus is on the Brabanters themselves, rather than  those who decide what they should do. Because the Brabanters now have identities, the whole scope of the opera opens out. One is reminded of Wagner's proto-socialist beliefs and his disdain for mindless authority.

When the rats are manipulated by Telramund they can turn vicious, which is why Elsa appears, borne down with arrows stuck in her back. It's a horrifying image, but Elsa's been shafted from all sides. That Annette Dasch is a tall, strong woman makes it even more poignant. Yet the rats are fundamentally creatures of nature who do what they think they need to survive. When they're not threatened they're quite delightful.  They have hideous claws and feet, but caress each other with great tenderness, as rats do. In their nobler moments, they remove their hoods and reveal their human faces. There's a lot of humour in Neuenfels's production. The Brabanters could be prototype Nuremburgers. But rats don't think and easily descend into mobs. Note how the rats in uniform resemble the SS. Petra Lang's Ortrud is got up vaguely like a camp guard. When she flashes her teeth, they shine sharp and white, lika a rat. When she kisses Telramund, it looks like she's savaging him.

Why rats? The idea is not nearly as far fetched as Lohengrin's connection with a swan. The Christian image is a dove, a symbol of peace. Swans look serene, but are aggressive, clumsy and attack in mobs. So why does Monsalvat revere swans? Bigger isn't necessarily better. When Elsa appears as a bride, she's dressed like a swan, hiding her face behind a feather fan, but look at her hair. It's hidden behind a helmet-like cowl, with a point like a widow's peak. Both sides of a swan's nature. Ortrud appears as a black swan, but can't get it right, like jealous people who try to imitate those more talented than themselves. Poor Petra Lang, painted like a mad doll, with 7cm false eyelashes.

When Lohengrin and Elsa are at last alone for the first time, they appear in simple garments that don't inhibit movement. It's actually in the libretto. Now they're neither swan nor rat, but fully human. The action here is as eloquent as the singing. Klaus Florian Vogt, who's sung more Lohengrins than most, reveals the hero as profoundly a sensitive and vulnerable. His singing is divine, (thrill to it) but watch his face, which projects genuine love and concern. Lohengrin is an almost supernatural hero, but he can't control things in his own bridal chamber. This is a very  moving interpretation, which gives Lohengrin much greater depth of personality. When he and Dasch grapple, the physical charge is palpable. And they're barefoot, like rats, only more beautiful to us, as humans.

There are many references in Neuenfels's production to other Wagner ideas. King Heinrich refuses to wear a sword til the truth is established. He plunges it into a potted tree in the middle of the stage - Wotan plunging his sword into the World Ash Tree. An ordinary king could decide Elsa's fate on the spot. Perhaps Heinrich realizes that this is cosmic, not a civil dispute. Georg Zeppenfeld doesn't do Heinrich as despot, but as thoughtful, unarmed human being. The female wedding guests appear in luminous colours and floral hats - the Flower Maidens from Parsifal, a warning that the hero must resist temptation?

Then the full horror of what Lohengrin reveals. Read the libretto carefully, for it's a discussion about a year's gestation and the freeing of the swan from its thrall to the Grail, and the return of dead Gottfried. So maybe it's not so far fetched after all that the swan boat turns into an egg, from which a foetus emerges, fully-formed, decisively tearing up its umbilical cord. It's Gottfried, reborn, his glänzendem Silbergewande not an artificial armour but natural, silvery vernix, which protects newborns from infection. Bizarre as this sight may be, it's implicit in the text and no crazier than the whole Parsifal myth. Indeed, it takes the myth to its conclusion, as Monsalvat is now refreshed through Virgin Birth and Resurrection.

The art of filming opera is also in its infancy. Since most operas now come in film form, Bildregie is becoming more important than ever and shouldn't be left to the point-and-shoot brigade. Bildregie as musically sensitive as in this broadcast should be studied carefully as it's a lot more than what happens on stage. The overtures begin in the Festspielhaus itself. Act One starts with Vogt's Lohengrin trying to unlock a door, which opens when he ceases to search. We descend into the world of Ortrud and Telramund through the bowels of backstage, and underground machinery. From high up in the ceiling, we see the nobles of Brabant gathering in colourful formation. Then when they go into battle, we see them girding up in their armour (rat suits).  Gloriously wonderful music, admirably conducted by Andris Nelsons, warmed by the blending of drama and reality.

Many will howl that there's no place for humour in Wagner, but that might not be true. Neuenfels uses rats to infuse this production with genuine humanity, which favours non-violent understanding, not brutal totalitariansim.  Wagner is myth on a grand scale. Literal representation distorts the real imagination in his work. So the humour here reaches parts the others don't go near.Yet again, proof that in wit there is wisdom.

Lots more on this site on Wagner, Lohengrin, stagecraft and the art of filming opera.

RATS! Bayreuth Lohengrin

Of course we all know Lohengrin, don't we? Or do we, really? What a shock is this Bayreuth Wagner Lohengrin on Siemens TV available until 30th August.  (My full review HERE) Of course millions will be screaming, running, like rats, for the exit. But think again. What is Lohengrin really about? What kind of folks inhabit Brabant? They're pretty gullible, assuming Elsa must be a killer because Telramund says so. Then out of nowhere a hero materializes, but why and for what? His name and background are the least of the questions we should be asking. This production, directed by Hans Neuenfels is so unusual it had me rushing home to check the score. And guess what? Neuenfels isn't wrong. We're just so jaded that we forget just how bizarre Wagner's Lohengrin really is.(photo by Janet Stephens - many thanks!)

The whole Montsalvat craziness, for one thing. It's not Christian but blasphemy, and here's it's grafted onto fake-medievalism.  The story predicates on saving Elsa and saving Brabant. But who are the Brabanters and why are they worth saving? Depicting them as rats is a brilliant idea because these rats have personality and are funny. Suddenly, they're sympathetic and....human. The opposite of the po-faced nonentities we usually see who might be painted on a backcloth for all they contribute. Once we start caring about the rats, the Lohengrin story takes on whole new levels. And there's precedent in Wagner himself. Lohengrin isn't quite part-human,  part-swan but he's certainly got strange DNA. So rats that switch from rat to human and back aren't so odd at all. Besides, Neuenfels makes lots of references to other Wagner oddites. And the shock ending! It takes the Parsifal myth to its logical conclusion. This new Virgin Birth is no kinkier than anything else in Montsalvat.

Coming away from Neuenfels, I'm more fascinated than ever by the breadth of Wagner's imagination. What kind of brain came up with plots like he did. And there's a lot more humanity and social responsibility in this Lohengrin than meets the eye. Get past the rat suits and there's a much deeper parable here than you'd expect. Film wise, too, this is excellent. Making opera into film is a new art form. This one shows how well it can be done (photo by Janet Stephens - many thanks!).  HERE IS THE FULL REVIEW (click on link)

Bayreuth Lohengrin live online, Sunday

Sunday 14th 1600 German time - direct from the Festspielhaus Bayreuth, Richard Wagner's (who else) Lohengrin. HERE IS THE LINK ! Live, online, international, and very high quality, courtesy of Siemens AG. State of the art. If you can wire your PC onto bigscreen TV, you can have a party at home, no airport and hotel, no carbon emissions, no security hassle. Register and pay 14,90 euro in advance, but that's still a quarter of the price of Met HD. On demand screening will be available for 2 weeks until 30th August.

Klaus Florian Vogt - one of the best Lohengrins about! Annette Dasch, Petra Lang, Tomas Tomasson, Georg Zeppenfeld, Samuel Youn, Andris Nelsons conducts - sure to be good. It's the fabled Hans Neuenfels production from last year, the one with the giant mice. In 2009 Siemens brought us the controversial Christoph Marthaler Tristan und Isolde, which I liked (see review HERE)  I still don't get the hospital bed Liebestod, but the first two acts were good. Love or hate Marthaler or Neuenfels, anything would be better than Tankred Dorst's brain-free Die Walküre reviewed HERE.

Two who have already seen Neuenfel's Lohengrin are Opera Cake and Boulezian. Please clip on the links for more.Enjoy reading, enjoy watching!

Aux bords lointains