‘On Brünnhilde’s rock I drew the breath that called your name; so swift was my journey here.’ It’s Act Two of Götterdämmerung. Siegfried, entoiled in evil beyond his comprehension, has unwittingly committed the betrayal that will tip the whole vast drama into its final collapse, and at this point Covent Garden’s Ring cycle really does feel like it’s swept by in a breath.
Richard Bratby
Ring leader
If there's one performance to take away from this cycle it'd be Stefan Vinke's Siegfried – no Teutonic he-man, but an awkward, impulsive boy
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