Having written
something of a ‘rave’ review of
Die Walküre last year (see
review) – in
fact nominating it as my DVD of the year– it seems slightly
odd now to watch the follow-up release of what should come
first, the ‘preliminary evening’,
Das Rheingold. The
Kupfer/Barenboim partnership was a supremely musical and intelligent
one, and there is again much to enjoy. The problems of staging
Rheingold are
that much more in the way of special effects are needed and
different directors get round them in different ways. Kupfer’s
answers to Wagner’s many technical headaches are always clever
and theatrical, but it has to be said that some work better
than others.
There’s no doubt
about the success of the opening scene. As the low E flat rumbles
away like an organ pedal, Kupfer has his cast of characters
stood motionless on the bare set dressed in modern outdoor
clothes. They are survivors from some catastrophic holocaust,
standing at a crossroads, the meaning of which will work its
way full circle at the end of
Götterdämmerung. They
turn and walk slowly away into the black distance of designer
Hans Schavernoch’s now-famous ‘highway to nowhere’. In that
impressive visual
coup, Kupfer encapsulates the essence
of what is about to unfold.
As the E flat grows
and swells into the first scene proper, the highway is transformed
into the depths of the Rhine. This is imaginatively done with
a mixture of lights, laser beams and projection and must have
looked amazing in the theatre. By an ingenious use of different
levels, the Rhinemaidens are able to appear and disappear at
will, thus appearing magical yet flirtatious when Alberich
comes into view. As is often the case on DVD, a bit too much
is given away in close-up, and the camera also has technical
problems with the lasers - (nothing terrible, and it is pointed
out on the box - (but overall this scene is successfully staged
and sung.
When we get to
the Gods, the setting is more abstract, with a rather modernist-looking
sculpture at the centre-back presumably being the newly-completed
Valhalla. The Gods themselves are dressed in mainly modern
dress, but again with hints of the abstract, such as perspex
suitcases and a large see-through hammer for Donner. It’s less
evocative than some stagings I’ve seen but is superbly sung.
That said, I initially raised an eyebrow at the Loge of Graham
Clarke, who’s on great form but is dressed like a cross between
and a leather-clad teddy boy and a ’70s David Bowie. He loiters
on the periphery, hands in pockets, observing events almost
with disdain, and his portrayal is subtle and complex.
After this, Fasolt
and Fafner are a disappointment. Directors seem to fall into
two camps here; they either suggest the fact that they are
giants (as Keith Warner did recently at Covent Garden) or try
to ‘enlarge’ the singers in some way, as Patrice Chéreau did
in 1976. There, the actors sat on the shoulders of two trained
stilt walkers and, when draped in costume, looked roughly twice
ordinary height yet were able to move swiftly about the stage.
Here, Kupfer has lifted the two basses on to some huge mechanical
contraption that’s more like three times normal height, so
they look impressive as they lumber in from the distance but
once on stage become cumbersome and look vaguely comical, those
tiny heads poking out of the huge body. The mechanical arm
movement is also severely limited, something that becomes important
later on when they have to cart off Freia. It also means Fasolt’s
slaying has to be played off-stage, again because of movement
restrictions, which is a pity, as it’s a pivotal moment when
the Ring’s curse claims its first victim.
These moments are
few and far between, but another is the rather pathetic pantomime
serpent that Alberich turns into when he dons the tarnhelm,
though we could be kind and suggest that Kupfer is being ironic
here...? Also the Ring itself actually looks more like a huge
knuckleduster, but this could be so it would be visible from
a distance.
Far better from
a staging point of view is the actual descent to Nibelheim,
where we get the full glory of the Bayreuth orchestra and a
welter of anvil noise – though obviously coming from a separate
soundtrack. Visually it’s a treat, and the Nibelungen are shown
correctly as dwarf minions, but here they look as if they have
been deformed by some sort of nuclear nightmare - (which perhaps
ties in with the opening tableau. The final scene is also quite
impressive – an amazing thunderbolt from Donner – but the thrill
of the orchestral playing is not quite matched on stage, where
the Gods simply walk into the futuristic structure and start
cavorting about, a comment obviously on their behaviour but
missing some of the grandeur Wagner obviously intended.
So, some staging
compromises here, but extremely impressive on the vocal and
musical front. All the principals are on good form, especially
the ever-energetic John Tomlinson and the oily Graham Clarke.
Sound quality is excellent and widescreen picture clear and
sharp, apart from the previously mentioned distortion during
the Rhine scene. Perhaps I’m being over-fussy in my criticisms
of some of the staging – it’s still a tremendously vital and
imaginative post-modern production that is wonderfully matched
by Barenboim’s conducting. I certainly look forward to future
instalments and though I feel that, as an individual production,
the Chéreau
Rheingold has the edge, when viewed as a
whole cycle the Kupfer will be one of the most impressive on
DVD.
Tony Haywood
See Das
Rheingold
Die
Walkure
Siegfried
Gotterdammerung
Wotan - (bass) – John Tomlinson 
[154:00] 
