SAN FRANCISCO — San Francisco Opera’s production of Tristan und Isolde, seen at its first performance on Oct. 19, was a musical triumph, and the star of the night was Eun Sun Kim. SFO’s music director, Kim is rapidly becoming a major Wagner conductor. Upon hearing her conduct Parsifal in January 2024 at Houston Grand Opera, I wrote that “it was hard to grasp that this was Kim’s first time conducting this opera.” Here, however, working with her own superb orchestra in another demanding Wagner juggernaut, once again for the first time, she has surpassed that performance.
With mediocre conducting, Tristan can be a long sit. Here, the listener’s attention never flags, and every passage is carefully wrought, laden with meaning. Kim uses the full range of tempos and dynamics. Often, before critical moments like the Act 2 love duet, her tempo slows portentously and her orchestra whispers, becoming almost inaudible. In that act, she somehow heightens the otherworldly sense of the lovers’ relationship, then returns to earth viscerally as things crash apart at the act’s end.
The prelude to Act 3, some of the saddest music ever written, becomes even more poignant here via perfectly modulated string vibrato. Throughout the opera, Kim manages to maximize dramatic tension and flair without sacrificing precision. And although there were moments in Act 1 when she almost covered her Isolde as well as her Brangäne, she is typically careful to support her singers, especially in the big arias. According to stories in the local press, Kim’s preparation includes memorizing the libretto (she is fluent in German), and she likes to mouth the text while conducting, helpful when cuing singers.
Only the fourth music director in SFO’s 102-year history, Kim is Korean-born and turns 44 later this month. Two days before this opera opened, the company announced the renewal of her contract, which now extends to 2031. When she conducted Lohengrin in 2023, she said she planned to conduct one Wagner opera per season here, and Parsifal has been announced for next season. Plans are in the works for her to conduct a Ring cycle.
Vocally, the night belonged to German soprano Anja Kampe as Isolde. Though she has sung this role for years, she sounds fresh. Her voice is not gigantic but projects well. Her legato is flawless. The top notes are sometimes tight, but on the whole her bright, creamy sound is ideal for Isolde. She is dramatically riveting, full of emotion, earthy, totally convincing.
Veteran heldentenor Simon O’Neill, originally from New Zealand, portrayed Tristan. His voice is huge, with a distinct nasal sound. At his best he sounds a bit like Jon Vickers, who had been engaged to sing Tristan here in 1970 opposite Birgit Nilsson but resigned during rehearsals (his 11th-hour replacement was none other than the incomparable Wolfgang Windgassen). But more often there is an edge to O’Neill’s voice. He is not a natural actor. Still, he is an imposing singer with stamina and heft.
German mezzo-soprano Annika Schlicht was very strong as Brangäne, her voice clear and rich. As Kurwenal, Wolfgang Koch was superb: mocking and arrogant in the first act, worried and desperate in the third act, then full of rage in the final scene. Thomas Kinch was excellent as a fierce Melot. Bass Kwangchul Youn portrayed King Marke with a tremulous, expressive voice and a stiff but noble demeanor. The San Francisco Opera Chorus was splendid.
Paul Curran’s production, originally created for Teatro La Fenice in 2012, is a drab, gray affair. The first act unfolds in front of what looks like the back side of a curving wall — all studs and trusses — with a high row of oval windows and a sort of cage where Tristan and Kurwenal hang out. For Act 2, the wall is divided in half and turned around to represent palace walls, with a dying silver tree center stage. In the final act, the same walls and cage are askew, their twisted angles a metaphor for the disaster that has occurred in the drama, and there’s a blood-stained armchair for Tristan. It’s not an attractive setting, and it doesn’t add much to the show. But Tristan is an opera where less is often more, and this backdrop doesn’t get in the way.
At least its sense of claustrophobia is effective, aided considerably by David Martin Jacques’s lighting. Costumes were likewise, if not drab, at least unremarkable: Victorian gowns and shawls for Isolde and Brangäne; Tristan also in Victorian attire; but King Marke and his soldiers in medieval outfits. Curran showed a sure hand for moving his singers around and for physical gestures that intensify the initial hatred between the lovers and their ultimate passion.
In this case, the opera ends with Isolde still standing, still wearing the same dress she wore on the ship. Her transfiguration apparently must take place in the music.
San Francisco Opera’s Tristan und Isolde continues through Nov. 5. For information and tickets, go here.
