NEW YORK — Die Frau ohne Schatten, powerfully revived at the Metropolitan Opera as of Nov. 29, enjoys a cult following in New York City. First heard here in a 1964 Philharmonic Hall concert anchored by Marianne Schech as the Dyer’s Wife, Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannstahl’s 1919 opera proved the unexpected hit of the new Met’s opening season (1966-67) in an unforgettable fairy-tale staging with a legendary cast (Leonie Rysanek, Christa Ludwig, Irene Dalis at her Met zenith, James King, and Walter Berry) led by Karl Böhm. That production, excitingly demonstrating the new Met’s extraordinary scenic capacities, racked up 42 performances through 1989.
A dozen years later, a new, brilliantly mirrored staging directed and completely designed by Herbert Wernicke appeared, with three great musical advantages: Deborah Voigt at the peak of her powers as the Empress, Wolfgang Brendel as a Barak to equal Berry in humanity if not quite in tonal refulgence, and, above all, Christian Thielemann magisterially leading an absolutely complete reading of the score, on which Böhm had inflicted savage if sometimes understandable cuts. Tragically, the Basel-based German director died suddenly a few months later, dashing any hopes of future Met stagings of a similarly dazzling flair.
The new version reappeared in two seasons, under Philippe Auguin (2003) and Vladimir Jurowski (2013); Yannick Nézet-Séguin was slated to lead it in 2020 when the pandemic lockdown intervened. Finally, it has come about with a somewhat different cast, but with Elza van den Heever (Empress) and Michael Volle (Barak, notably the work’s only named character) still in place and Nina Stemme — until last year among the world’s leading interpreters of the Dyer’s Wife — opting to try out the Nurse. The run’s 2024 opening night was very exciting. Yet one felt that music director Nézet-Séguin had more an episodic than an overall grasp of the massive score’s architecture, despite which the orchestra played superbly, not least the ravishing extended solos by concertmaster David Chan and principal cello Rafael Figueroa.
As at Baden-Baden in 2023 (but executing a very different dramatic conception of the piece and her role), van den Heever, with her secure, soaring upper register, delivered a very impressive Empress, shirking nothing and tracing the touching emotional journey that is central to the work. New Yorkers understandably tend to equate this role with the more rapturous tones of Rysanek and Voigt, who spearheaded the previous productions, respectively. Van den Heever’s cooler timbre more evokes those of the gifted sopranos who were their alternates in the role here: Ingrid Bjoner and Sue Patchell. She spoke Act Three’s extended melodrama with dignity and point — although at this juncture, and when Barak and his wife were seeking each other in the dark — Nézet-Séguin gave in to his tendency to overpower the singers with orchestral din. In most of the rest of the evening, he was more considerate.
Lise Lindstrom here returned to the Met, where previously (2009-15) she had only sung Turandot, capable enough but anonymous of timbre. As the Dyer’s Wife, she gave an unusually likable, committed dramatic performance. The timbre at low volume retains some youthful allure, and she managed a few striking phrases (“O Welt in der Welt! O Traum im Wachen!”). Indeed she managed this murderously tough role — or what the considerable cuts left of it — professionally throughout. But at this stage the voice, riddled with vibrato when under pressure, suggested a soprano who has put her instrument through the wringer in heavy dramatic repertoire for many years. During the intermission, one overheard many fond remembrances of Christa Ludwig, Inge Borkh, Gwyneth Jones, and Christine Goerke (her breakthrough role at the Met, in 2013) in the part.
Stemme, as recently as 2023 in San Francisco an imposing Dyer’s Wife, sang her first Nurse on this evening. One admires the Swedish soprano’s courage and self-honesty in making the change: The cruelly taxing part, for decades assigned to a mezzo-soprano or contralto, was actually premiered by Lucie Weidt, a mature dramatic soprano who continued to sing some high roles (including Senta, Ariadne, and the Siegfried Brünnhilde) as well as Zwischenfach parts for years after 1919. Stemme, though always musical and textually intelligent in confronting the new challenge, was still finding her way through the part’s complicated intervals. Some phrases displayed a pronounced wobble, and the tonal sheen came and went. But at Act Two’s ringing curtain line, she let us know that her high B flat is still formidable and steady. Her contribution, and indeed those of the whole cast, will doubtless improve as the run progresses.
The two male principals were already great assets. At Houston Grand Opera, Russell Thomas has of late added Parsifal to his repertoire, with Tannhäuser to follow in spring 2025. His calmly confident traversal of the Emperor’s music was both the best account of the role heard hereabouts since James King’s last Emperor in 1978 and the best work Thomas has offered in his steady climb from the Don Carlo Herald in 2005 to Verdi and Puccini leads. Bravo! Michael Volle showed a total understanding of Barak’s noble yet fallible character, relishing the words and phrasing with great distinction. At 64, his timbre shows some pardonable weathering, but he can still shape long legato lines, access tender head voice notes (“Fürchte dich nicht”), and build to exciting climaxes: a performance that honored the legacy of Berry and of the similarly grandly human Paul Schöffler on Böhm’s first recording.
Ryan Speedo Green, always a strong presence physically with his imposing height, proved excellent vocally as the Messenger. The next night he sang Verdi’s Ferrando, a role James Morris essayed very well before embarking, as Green will soon do, on his first Wotan. Laura Wilde made an unusually full-voiced Guardian of the Threshold (a role Jurowski in 2013 assigned here to countertenor Andrey Nemzer). Some of the comprimarios disappointed, but Barak’s three brothers (Thomas Capobianco, Aleksey Bogdanov, and Scott Conner) were outstanding, as was rich-toned Ronnita Miller as Act Three’s offstage alto voice. Some of America’s most promising young singers made company debuts: mezzo-soprano Hannah Ludwig as a Servant, soprano Meryl Dominguez and mezzo-soprano Erin Wagner among the children’s voices and — in the pit — tenor Ryan Capozzo (Voice of a Young Man).
J. Knighten Smit has maintained Wernicke’s production well, in places refining some of the mime and the Falcon’s danced episodes. It’s a shame that the set’s mirrored surfaces and bright reflected lights render this memorable staging impossible to film. Like many others I know in the audience, I went home and purchased seats for more than one subsequent performance.
