A Month In Berlin
There was a wealth of opera during May-June 2001 in
all three opera houses in Berlin. Ian Brady and I reluctantly confined
our selection to four of the five Wagner operas (we could have heard
the Holländer also at the Deutsche Oper) plus one other (Der
Freischutz) and two superb concerts from the Berlin Philharmonic
Orchestra.
Der fliegende Holländer. Musical Director:
Daniel Barenboim, Producer: Harry Kupfer, Stage Designer: Hans Schavernoch.
Dutchman: Falk Struckmann, Daland: Robert Holl, Senta: Anne Schwanewilms,
Erik: Jorma Silvasti, Mary: Uta Priew, Steersman: Gunnar Gudbjörnsson.
Staatsoper Unter den Linden. 13 May.
This was billed as a new production in April 2001 for
the Staatsoper, but it turned out to be a variation of Kupfer's
1978-85 Bayreuth production, presenting the drama through Senta's
mind. It was Senta's tragedy first and the Dutchman's second.
What made it so compelling was the consistency and logic of the production.
While Senta had both feet on the ground she interacted more or less
normally with the spinning girls, Mary, Daland and Erik, most of whom
treated her warily and hesitated to get too close, implying that they
were used to her unstable outbursts. But when she climbed to her favourite
refuge halfway up the spiral staircase in the centre of Daland's
hall and spinning room, she was in control, directing and manipulating
her fantasies with calm detachment. The shadowy, faceless Dutchman
Daland brought into the house was not the one she wanted. Her Dutchman
was the one whose ship's prow pierced the wall of Daland's
hall. The first time this happened the impact was stunning - the ship
tilted downwards gradually until the Dutchman could be tipped safely
onto the ground. The second time was to enable the duet to be sung
between the Dutchman on his ship inside the room, and Senta on the
staircase.
The innocent celebrations of the seamen and women on
shore turned into one of Senta's out-of-control dreams as the
Dutch sailors' chorus was accompanied by flashing lights, tilting
floor and rocking stage furniture. In the end, Senta's fantasies
failed to sustain her and the Dutchman sailed away, leaving her without
a prop. No one was surprised when she climbed to the top of the staircase
and jumped through the window. The onlookers approached her body just
as warily in death as they had in life. Struckmann was an exemplary
Dutchman - powerful of voice, passionate in his Act I narration and
aria but distant if not disdainful with Daland. Schanewilms, after
an initial slight hesitation, sang strongly. A standing ovation for
Barenboim and the entire orchestra who came on stage, and then for
the singers.
Tannhäuser. Musical Director: Jiri Kout, Producer:
Götz Friedrich, Stage Designer: Rolf Glittenberg, Landgraf: Stephen
Milling, Tannhäuser: Stig Andersen, Wolfram von Eschenbach: Wolfgang
Brendel, Elisabeth: Eva Johansson, Venus: Karan Armstrong. Deutsche
Oper Berlin, 16 May.
I am afraid I always find the ballet tedious. This one
had red flashing lights and creatures in black cloaks. Venus (a Madam
first in black leather, later in a red split skirt) was too mature
to engage with Tannhäuser and instead he seemed at a distance for
much of the first scene. Andersen had no difficulty sustaining the
role but does not have a big voice. On his own he was passable (indeed
his Act III long narration was quite moving) but he was outclassed
in competition with the knights, especially Wolfram...and, in his
duet with Elizabeth. Johansson, has an astonishing voice. The quality
of the performance was lifted enormously with the first notes of "Dich,
teure Halle". When she called to the angry knights to hold back
she was not front stage with arms outflung, but hidden in the midst
of the throng. The impact of her soaring cry from this concealed position
was transfixing for us as well as for the characters. The entire width
and depth of this house's huge stage was used for this scene...to
great effect. Alas, Tannhäuser lost his mind when he realized the
enormity of his crime and ended the scene pulling chairs into a circle
and talking to phantoms. He was also given to writing slogans on blackboards.
Tristan und Isolde. Musical Director: Jiri Kout;
Producer: Götz Friedrich, Stage Designer: Günther Schneider-Siemssen.
Tristan: Stig Andersen, King Marke: Franz-Josef Selig, Isolde: Susan
Owen, Kurwenal: Eike Wilm Schulte, Brangäne: Ute Walther, Melot: Morten
Ernst Lassen. Deutsche Oper Berlin, 20 May.
We had misgivings when we arrived at the theatre to
find a handful of people hoping to sell their tickets. This was explained
by the substitution, because of illness, of both the conductor and
Isolde - Kout replacing Intendant Christian Thielemann, and Owen replacing
Luana DeVol. Owen, an American, has a record of Wagnerian roles, including
Brünnhilde, in European and US houses, but I did not care for her
thick, heavy voice. I objected, also, to the staging of each act in
deep gloom. Still, there was always Wagner's ravishing music.
The audience was kind to the soprano. Only the conductor was booed.
Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. Musical Director:
Sebastian Weigle, Producer: Harry Kupfer, Stage Director: Hans Schavernoch.
Hans Sachs: Wolfgang Brendel, Walther von Stolzing: Francisco Araiza,
David: Stephan Rügamer, Eva: Carola Höhn, Magdalene: Birgitta Swendén.
Staatsoper Unter den Linden. 2 June.
Hans Sachs was relatively young, and so concerned in
every action of those around him that we felt deeply moved by his
own reactions throughout the opera. Höhn, bless her, looked and sang
like a Botticelli angel. Instead of rising at the beginning of Act
I, the curtain fell in a heap, revealing the beautifully composed
set of the interior of the church with its congregation. The set had
a central upright core containing balconies and stairs at different
levels, somewhat over-decorated with works of art. This core was turned
for each act to reveal different facets, seen to advantage outside
Sachs's house where we caught glimpses of the interior...[with]
indications that we were in the age of the renaissance and that Sachs
was prosperous, a humanist and ahead of his time. The distant backdrop
of twentieth-century skyscrapers did not seem out of place. Araiza
had a pleasing tenor, just big enough to be reassuring, but before
the high climax of each version of the prize-song the tempo slowed
noticeably and one got the distinct impression that the orchestra
got under the voice and lifted it. The joyous final act was full of
busy merrymaking until the serious interchange between Walter and
Sachs and the bleak treatment of Beckmesser (fine singing and acting
from Andreas Schmidt) who was ostracised.
In both houses we felt there was a special quality to
the orchestral sound, probably due to a combination of the size and
openness of the pit, the skill of the conductor and players and the
balance of the instruments.
I realize that my brief notes do not do justice to the
performances and haven't even touched on the supporting roles,
but for those attending Berlin's Wagner Festival in April 2002
my notes may whet the appetite for the Staatsoper's productions,
cast and superb orchestra.
Barbara Brady
July 2001
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10-Mar-2004
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