VIENNA — The Vienna State Opera Ring Cycle, seen June 20-28, was a mesmerizing, somewhat eccentric musical journey, with impassioned, high-volume conducting from Philippe Jordan and a gifted cast, especially tenor Andreas Schager, who sang both Siegmund and Siegfried. Sven-Eric Bechtolf’s rather bland 2007 production offered little in the way of insight but rarely detracted from the epic musical performance.
These performances marked Jordan’s farewell as the house’s music director, and there will not be a replacement. As is the case at the Vienna Philharmonic, which spends most of its time in the pit as the State Opera’s orchestra, the company will revert to a roster of guest conductors and a more collective form of leadership. Jordan is a veteran Wagner conductor known for lyricism, luminous textures, and a fluid approach to tempos, all of which were apparent in this cycle. But this time he chose to pump up the volume at critical moments.
This occasionally came at the expense of covering singers. Fortunately, most of this cast had the rarest of clarion voices, and the combination was thrilling. The celebrated State Opera orchestra was not always at its best. Its famously distinctive brass sound was marred by flawed entrances and intonation issues, with an inordinate number of horn flubs each night. But the loss of precision was more than offset by the level of energy in this singular Ring.
Schager was the other hero of the cycle. I don’t think anyone alive has more vocal power. As Siegmund, he sometimes overdid it with, for example, prolonged, earth-shaking calls of “Wälse!” Then, as the title character in Siegfried, his tendency to constantly sing fortissimo became a bit annoying. But he eased up a tad in Götterdämmerung, managing to become more controlled and confident. He has a sonorous top register and a bright, metallic sound.
He even managed to change his voice to a more baritonal color when he impersonated Gunther. He moves well onstage, and his youthful appearance is perfect for these roles. Singing both roles in the same cycle is extremely rare. Schager did so last year at Wiesbaden on short notice after the Siegmund had to cancel. This time around, it was planned, aided by a two-day break between Die Walküre and Siegfried.
Anja Kampe was a powerful Brünnhilde, with a large, thrilling voice and sensitive acting. The strain was notable in Die Walküre, but she has formidable stamina and is quite beautiful: a shining light. Prior to Götterdämmerung, an announcer informed us that Kampe had a viral infection and asked the audience’s indulgence. Her voice did seem less potent and more vulnerable in the cruel top notes, but she never ran out of steam. Her immolation scene was exceptionally moving.
Iain Paterson portrayed Wotan, and this was not a good cycle for him. In Das Rheingold and Die Walküre, his voice was thin and arid, sometimes barely audible against Jordan’s soaring orchestra. Things had worsened notably in Siegfried when, before the second act, an announcer came onstage to explain that he was experiencing an acute allergic reaction and was treated by a physician so he could finish the performance. That said, he was always a sympathetic Wotan with a capacity to display pain and his love for Brünnhilde. At the curtain, as he gestured toward his throat, he was warmly applauded.
Jochen Schmeckenbecher was a surprisingly effective Alberich, with a strong, dry baritone and acting in a way that made his character more sympathetic than usual. To understand the Ring, we need to see the flaws and virtues in every character. If Wotan is “Light Alberich,” the converse is also true. Michael Laurenz was far more typical as Mime, hyperactive, with the whiny “character voice” often associated with the role.
Simone Schneider was a radiant, intense Sieglinde, pairing nicely with Schager. Monika Bohinec was a solid mezzo-soprano as Fricka. Daniel Behle was a scene-stealing Loge, vocally strong, vividly dramatic as he danced around. Anna Kissjudit sang as Erda with a sweet voice, albeit a bit underpowered.
Samuel Youn was disappointing as Hagen, with a forced, sinister sound. Clemens Unterreiner was dramatically and vocally ideal as Gunther, but Regine Hangler, with a large vibrato, lacked the innocent lyric spinto sound needed for Gutrune.
The Valkyries were excellent. The Norns were exceptional. The Rhinemaidens, while athletic enough, were vocally less impressive. The chorus was superb.
The great Wagner scholar Oswald Georg Bauer referred to prewar Bayreuth productions as “Grandma’s productions.” That term can now describe Bechtolf’s Ring, which dates from 2007. So much has happened since then in terms of Wagner stagings that the Bechtolf Ring is a curious relic. At major companies in Europe, Ring cycles now feature everything from elaborate, intellectually challenging metaphor to banal, ridiculous soap opera.
Meanwhile, sophisticated projection techniques have allowed smaller companies to present Ring operas in theaters everywhere without the kind of stage facilities once thought essential for mounting the cycle. But if Bechtolf’s production seems quaint, it is not without its charms.
Much of the cycle unfolds in black and white on a bare stage, with a translucent scrim in back on which colors are projected and characters are sometimes seen in silhouette. In Das Rheingold, the Rhinemaidens go up and down on inflatable domes, and most scenes take place in a field of boulders. The giants are in blackface, something rarely seen these days. Wotan and Loge arrive at Nibelheim via metal boxes lowered from the flies. Valhalla is seen only in a silly snow globe that Froh carries around. Alberich’s slaves produce piles of gold body parts. Oddly, a couple of the heads reappear in Die Walküre belonging to Wotan, seemingly a reference to Siegmund and Sieglinde.
Die Walküre begins on a shallow abstract stage, then opens to reveal life-sized artificial horses for the Valkyries. They remain in place even for Wotan’s farewell to Brünnhilde, with only a bit light flickering on the horses to suggest the magic fire, while Brünnhilde is laid to rest on the flat stage floor atop what appears to be a small rock. The Valkyries gleefully chase and mock the frightened heroes, a bizarre inversion of the text.
In Siegfried, Mime gets a stage-filling factory for a hut. Siegfried’s bear is a projected silhouette. The dragon is a giant projection of an eye. Siegfried disappears backstage to kill him, at which point the eye turns red. Siegfried discovers Brünnhilde wrapped in a white shroud, which he ceremoniously unwraps.
In Götterdämmerung, the Gibichungs entertain in a modern furnished parlor, but abstraction returns with a forest of small Christmas trees for Brünnhilde.
Marianne Glittenberg’s costumes for the men had more of a sci-fi flavor, but almost all the women, even the Valkyries, got gowns (covered in bloodstains in their scene with the warriors). When Hagen called the Gibichung vassals, they arrived in uniforms that resembled those of the Nazi SS, a bold and chilling reference impossible for this audience to miss.
The final scene was appropriately abstract and rather elegant, using a combination of stage elevators, projected flames, and the lighting design of Rolf Glittenberg, who also designed the sets. In its relative simplicity, Bechtolf’s Ring offers an advantage similar to that of a concert version: the ability to concentrate on music and, in this case, acting. Both were superb.
Bogdan Roščić, general director of the State Opera, has indicated that a new Ring production will be created during his new term (his contract was just renewed), but no other details are available.
