This joint venture
between Opus Arte and De Nederlandse
Opera was originally made for television
in 1999. Thus its filmic values are
strong. This is excellent because here
is a production meant to be seen and
experienced, not merely listened to.
The production, by the acclaimed Pierre
Audi adds immensely to the impact; indeed,
I would go so far as to say it brings
deeper meaning to it than the performance
itself, which is adequate but not exceptional.
"Concept" is a much maligned
word, because any artistic effort has
a kernel of concept somewhere. Audi’s
concept is brilliant. Because the Ring
is a universal human drama, he wants
to involve the audience physically as
well as emotionally. The stage extends
via a walkway just above the audience,
and the singers move "into"
the audience without actually being
part of it.
Audi’s team created
a "no set" set, constructed
of huge plates of glass and suspended
metal, light and darkness. For a modern
set it is remarkably organic: the materials
are "of the earth", natural
glass, natural steel, crafted and operated
by hand. One of the themes of the opera
is, after all, construction and architecture
on a grand scale. Despite the darkness,
there is a strong sense of natural transparency
– the huge glass plinth, lit from below,
shines and sparkles like the Rhine,
and you forget how profound its depths
are. Similarly the open plan nature
of the set.
Most interestingly,
Audi wanted to bring out the integral
drama in the music. At Bayreuth, Wagner
hid the orchestra in a pit below the
stage. For Audi, the music is so important
that he wants the orchestra to be part
of the action in a visible, physical
sense, too. The audience thus is seated
around the orchestra who are visible
at all times. This creates a different,
but very dynamic acoustic. Surprisingly,
the singers found it enjoyable even
though they were facing the orchestra.
Graham Clark said that when you’re "eyeball
to eyeball" with audience and musicians,
your focus adapts. The conductor, Hartmut
Haenchen adds that many Wagnerian singers
shout and ruin their voices. This new
arrangement allowed them to sing "with"
the orchestra. Moreover, the orchestral
players loved it, as they could hear
better what was going on on-stage and
gauge their responses more sensitively.
Indeed, this was a very well played
Rheingold, the prelude and non-vocal
passages illuminated by the extra prominence,
and the clear enthusiasm of the musicians.
Woglinde, played by
Gabriele Fontana, was outstanding. So
well did she characterise her part that
she made the Rhinemaiden seem much more
than an irresponsible airhead, as the
text makes out, but a sort of embryo
Norn. This is a wonderful insight, the
implications of which are fascinating
to ponder. It was a pity that she should
be forced to wear such a humiliating
costume. Graham Clark as Mime was in
his element, creating a powerfully dramatic
character, in a costume like an underground
grub, with tail, hair and pasty torso.
He paces about with contorted grub-like
movements, so you can almost feel the
trail of slime a grub might leave. His
voice, of course, captures intense,
almost hysterical resentment of life:
how he will carry this on to Siegfried
will be worth watching. Alberich, in
a shell-shaped Tarnhelm, rules this
world of maggot-like creatures who toil
for him without hope. Played by Henk
Smit, he is a brooding presence, full
of menace, and yet, somehow pitiful
because he has become so blinded by
greed. In the subterranean setting,
as if under the ground, is there perhaps
a clue to the nature of the giants,
Fasolt and Fafner? They, too seem to
be made of lumps of mud crudely piled
together. They too, like Alberich, have
aspired to beauty and better things
beyond their station. Do they symbolise
some kind of Earth force? It is an aspect
of the drama that doesn’t often get
much attention. Or is it just in contrast
to the rarefied beauty of the "shimmering,
radiant race" of Gods? The Gods
themselves, resplendent in jewel-like
Greek costumes are anything but earthy
or organic. They wear cold plastic helmets
instead of hair – one of the few inorganic
touches in this staging. Their movements
are deliberately stiff and formal. Wotan,
sung by John Bröcheler, is vocally
impressive, as he should be. Chris Merritt’s
Loge is a kind of alternative Wanderer,
half man, half God, a mediator without
"hearth or home". In this
amusing new translation there are delights
like "Ruddy gold!"
In all, this is a production
to study for its insights. The spare
set and the visible orchestra concentrate
attention on what is happening in the
drama, and on its psychological, philosophical
ideas. Ultimately, this is much more
in keeping with Wagner’s dearest wish,
that his operas should make people think,
than any amount of Teutonic kitsch.
Anne Ozorio
Residentie Orchestra, Amsterdam/Hartmut Haenchen
OPUS ARTE OA 0946D [68:02 + 80:05] 
