Lohengrin - Bayerische Staatsoper, Nationaltheater, Munich, 15 July 2009 When I listened to last week's premiere of this new production on the radio, I wasn't that surprised to hear booing from the audience - it's customary here for any even slightly revisionist new Wagner production, whatever the musical quality. The boos were few this time round - but perhaps that was just because director Richard Jones had wisely scarpered. On the grounds that building a state is like building a house (and slotting as neatly as an Ikea shelf into the theme for this year's opera festival, 'Under Construction'), he sets it around Elsa constructing her dream home. Not a bad idea, but it's his only one, and it doesn't stretch very far, forcing him into some absurd corners. What's more, the execution doesn't always match up to the concept, and it's often hard to work out just what is going on, let alone how to interpret it. As is usual with radical rethinks, the text and the action part company frequently - that much is expected. But the musical cues - which are detailed and specific - are glossed over too. The disconnect between what is heard and what is seen is less forgivable. Characters are turned upside down. Elsa is no longer an innocent girl, but a capable Rosie the Riveter in plaits and dungarees - and she's not afraid to grout the bricks herself. Lohengrin is a scruffy anti-hero, who strolls in with a (very realistic) swan tucked under his arm, to general disinterest. He wiggles his sword half-heartedly, but fells Telramund with magic jazz hands - thus confirming Ortrud's suspicions that wizardry is afoot. Telramund is a monodimensional bully, there's nothing regal about the King, and even the Herald is shoved to one side on an umpire's chair, while his pronouncements are relayed on tiny screens above the stage (Big Brother? - don't ask me). The chorus, dressed in a mixture of schoolwear, Bertie Wooster blazers and something daringly close to the local Munich police uniform, mooch around irrelevantly. They might as well have sung off stage. Everybody looks as if they'd rather be somewhere else - which I assume must be a directorial imperative rather than universal unprofessionalism. If Richard Jones had set out to get up everyone's noses (a possibility I don't discount) he could hardly have done better. Jonas Kaufmann made an intriguing comment in a recent German interview (translated here) that "We already took several approaches, which however failed for various reasons". Was he talking about German productions in general or this particular one? Here's how it opens. As the Vorspiel is played (and I wonder what conductor Kent Nagano thought of that) Elsa sketches her house plan with arthritic slowness. Behind is a gantry which will later accomodate the chorus; to the right is the Herald's chair:
The Herald (Evgeny Nikitin, in great voice though edgy-looking, as if expecting a custard pie to hit any moment) and King Heinrich (Christof Fischesser, OK, but tending to bark under pressure):
Lohengrin appears with swan - though who's pulling who? A scruffy bloke with a swan under his arm is hardly Ein Wunder, either:
As soon as Lohengrin arrives he gets down to business, giving Elsa a hand with the building work. Anja Harteros overcame a rough start to sing with great beauty and power, though her tone does tend to spread as she turns the volume up. Jonas Kaufmann I'm afraid didn't meet up to my expectations. He sounded constricted and throaty (a health issue? - I didn't notice it on the radio broadcast). And although he deployed a wide range of colour and dynamic, it didn't always work with the music. A pianissimo In fernem land was brilliantly executed but sounded affected in the dramatic context. Perhaps it was the directorial demands of this particular production, perhaps he just needs to work more on the role. But on the basis of this performance, it doesn't seem a great fit for him. (UPDATE - I later found he did indeed have a health problem, and wasn't able to finish the final performance in the run, a couple of days later).
Wolfgang Koch was the best Telramund I've heard recently - a fresh, resonant voice, and he never resorted to shouting. Michaela Schuster's Ortrud was underplayed to the point of mousiness, and not quite as elegantly sung on this occasion as in Berlin a couple of months back:
Ortrud eavesdrops on Elsa, with Telramund above and Lohengrin kipping in the garden shed:
Ortrud prostrates herself at Elsa's feet:
The crowd watch as the roof is lowered on to Elsa's house. At the front is a table where King Heinrich conducts the civil wedding. Elsa signs her name - it's projected on a video screen so we can see exactly what she's doing. Then Lohengrin signs his name too - not as clever or funny as it was no doubt intended to be:
And here we are in Act 3. The chorus 'comically' laid out the floral message while the Vorspiel played. Even more irritating and anti-musical than the first act intrusion:
After a traditional Bavarian wedding ceremony, Elsa and Lohengrin are installed in their new home - in their newly-acquired traditional Bavarian gear. On the wall is a Vermisst ('missing') poster for Gottfried - these were also plastered around the foyer on the way in. Below is an empty cradle:
Because everything's back to front in this production, Lohengrin is desperately trying to seduce Elsa after the wedding, while she seems to have lost interest. In the background is the plan she sketched during the prelude. When she asks 'the' question - farcically redundant after the signing ceremony of course - and leaves, Lohengrin douses the bed (and cradle) in 'petrol' and sets them alight. Though the flames are weedy (Health and Safety no doubt) it's one of the most effective moments in the whole production - she's destroyed his dream, so now he'll destroy hers:
The body of Telramund is brought before the crowd for judgement. A symbol-plastered screen is dropped to conceal the 'burning' house. This screen, reminiscent of a heraldic gallery, was used at several points - a neat way to conceal the scenery shifts going on behind and another one of the few points where the execution really satisfied the concept. Lohengrin (far right) has switched out of his Bavarian costume and back into the trackie bottoms he arrived in - not good news for Elsa:
It's the swan again! And Lohengrin is off. The crowd, who've taken little interest in proceedings so far, suddenly decide to end the opera by topping themselves. Normally this sort of major rewrite irritates me, but by this point I really didn't care:
(all production photos - Bavarian State Opera)
The one unalloyed bright spot was Kent Nagano's conducting. His Wagner, seen under a cold blue light, is not to everyone's taste, but it perfectly complemented this production, where any hint of romantic excess could have seemed kitschy. His construction, unlike Richard Jones's, seems designed with care and respect for the work. It wasn't as detailed nor as lushly-textured as Semyon Bychkov's brilliant account in the recent Covent Garden production, but nevertheless more than fine.
A few curtain call photos (more to come later):
Anja Harteros
Jonas Kaufmann
Michaela Schuster, Wolfgang Koch, Evgeny Nikitin
And Bavarian State Opera's promo videos (why can't Covent Garden do something like this?):
I've said it before and will say it again (and again): changing the staging is not enough. To update an opera you need to change the music too. Why stick with Wagner's tired old score? Put some 12 tone stuff in and a bit of Hindemith here and there. The music should be just as liberated as the staging. So it can be an "artistic whole", you know. "In fernem land" would be enhanced with some Indian ditties added to it, don't you think?
Posted by: Hal | 18 July 2009 at 04:20 PM