Das Rheingold used to have the reputation of being a difficult opera, in that it not only lasts for two and a half hours without a break, but also involves a considerable amount of discussion, immense quantities of plot, and lacks stretches of lyricism, with a few obvious exceptions. It is one of the operas that have shot up in popularity and esteem thanks to surtitles. Now that it is possible to follow every movement of the drama, audiences find it to be an enthralling, extremely anti-romantic study of some fundamental human urges, and a great deal more complex than the usual ‘love versus power’ formula that it used to be characterised by. For all kinds of reasons Opera North’s decision to begin its first-ever Ring cycle with Rheingold is not only wise but also inspired, and the tremendous reception it had at the fifth performance, in Leeds Town Hall, must have been a great encouragement to those involved in the labour of putting on the whole cycle within three years.
It is demi-semi-staged. Three large screens, high and behind the orchestra, have atmosphere-creating moving images, of water to begin with, later of clouds and then of vile, burping lava, finally semi-abstract patterns. Light changes often. Characters not only come and go — and have a tendency to go too soon, often as soon as they have stopped singing (the gods near the end) — but are dressed according to class, clutch one another and mime, while the brilliant Loge of Wolfgang Ablinger-Sperrhacke gives a full-scale acting performance. I think a prop or two would be in place — the Ring itself, at least. On the screens we get fragments of narration, aberrantly in the past tense; and it seems arbitrary which parts of the plot we are superfluously informed of and which we are left to infer. Those are minor, corrigible features. The main force of Wagner’s icy portrayal of the human tragicomedy comes across, in this realisation, with almost unparalleled — in my experience — impact.
Opera North has cannily selected a cast which includes Ring veterans and also younger professionals, some of whom are singing much larger roles here than they have before. Michael Druiett, the commanding Wotan, with a remarkably Wagnerian profile, not only has a sumptuous voice, but also uses it to express both Wotan’s grandeur of aspiration, and his shocking (in this primeval scene) political intriguing, his affection for Fricka and his need to roam, with no exaggerations. Surely he will get a spear in the later dramas? On the night I went Peter Sidhom was a moving, disturbing, ultimately a harrowing Alberich — how absurd to think of him as the villain of the Ring! — and sang with stupefying power. Everyone, down to the minor gods, was cast from strength, and the appearance of Andrea Baker as Erda was the last superb coup, her lines delivered with unique urgency and ungainsayableness.
Perhaps even more astonishing than the uniform excellence of the cast was the playing of Opera North’s orchestra, for once on stage and showing that they are the equals of any other opera-house orchestra in the country; they were augmented, of course, so we were treated to six harps, and a full complement of anvils — but no screaming Nibelungs, alas, only an electronic howl (I think) to substitute for the Ring’s most terrifying single moment, where the orchestra went berserk. Throughout, the trim figure of Richard Farnes was in utter command of every aspect. This is his first Ring, but has one ever heard Rheingold delivered with a more unerring sense of pacing, with such attention to detail, above all with such rhythmic alertness? If the cycle continues at this level, it will rank with Reginald Goodall’s peerless account from the 1970s as one of the greatest ever.
British Youth Opera, which always acts as an upbeat to the new operatic season, produced, as it often has, Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro — Britten’s Rape of Lucretia, too, which I regret not being able to see. The main attraction here, again a strong one, was the conducting of Alexander Ingram, whose choice of tempi and phrasing was exemplary. That alone would have made for an exhilarating evening, but the singing was of a generally high standard, with an outstanding Susanna from Ellie Laugharne. Talent scouts attend these performances, so we should be hearing plenty more of her, and probably of some of the others.
For some reason the sets for Figaro tend these days to be skeletal — clearly everyone in Figaro is interested in hearing what everyone else is saying and doing, but this is not the best way to convey that — trusting to the audience’s intelligence would be preferable. The production, by William Kerley, was elementary but harmless. Figaro is the opera there are most chances to see, and that seems, as so few things do in an unjust world, to be entirely appropriate.
Comments