Opera
The Ring (Norwegian Opera, Norwich) Die Zauberfliite (European Chamber Opera, Holland Park)
Ring ritual
Michael Tanner
The Norwich Ring' is bound to enter into Wagnerian lore, to be reminisced about to the boredom of future genera- tions. So it may be a good idea to have an interim report on it while it's still in progress, though the detritus of the aca- demic year unfortunately prevented me from attending the Preliminary Evening, as Das Rheingold should be called. The spac- ing of the performances over 11 days sug- gests that it was intended primarily for locals, Norwich not being the most accessi- ble of towns; but, in fact, as soon as tickets went on sale last year, they were snapped up by cosmopolitan Wagnerians, so the audience contains many virtually profes- sional Ring attenders, who spend the inter- vals drawing comparisons with other cycles they have seen in the last few months. Wagner would disapprove: he wanted his work to be staged as a festival, not as part of the ritual of the addict's life. So the appropriate criterion for judging the Nor- wegian Opera's production would seem to be whether it induces a sense of the special in the midst of the everyday, of contribut- ing as seriously as art can to an examina- tion of the foundations of our society and the possibility of a hope that goes rather deeper than that which New Labour has temporarily induced.
For me the answer so far, despite a rea- sonable number of effective and even stir- ring moments, is disappointing. Mike Ashman is responsible for this production, and we know that he is capable of having and realising strong ideas, even if they have usually struck me as bad, in the case of the Royal Opera's Fliegender Hollander scan- dalously so. In this Walkiire he was per- versely content to let a cast of non-actors get on with not acting. Act I is admittedly problematic in an unusual way. The ideal act to introduce anyone to Wagner with, and one which keeps its freshness and straightforward appeal in a great perfor- mance, or listened to on recordings with Lehmann and Melchior or conducted by Furtwangler, it can seem uninspired and slow to make its points in a moderate per- formance.
The Norwich one had the novelty of a traditional set, with most of the furnishings indicated by Wagner, so any radical rein- terpretation of the characters would be jar- ring. Actually, Hunding does get strikingly portrayed and sung by Gudjon Oskarsson, who is sexily sinister, giving his wife a vio- lent kiss on his way to bed, and carrying the air of a renaissance villain. The impact he made cast into sharp relief the blankness, dramatically, of Jyrki Niskanen's Sieg- mund: he was a late replacement, but sure- ly might have reacted to stimuli a little more. He has a quite resplendent voice, the most beautiful new youthful-heroic tenor I have heard for a long time. If someone would tell him how to move, where to move, above all why to move, and someone would urge him to vary his tone more often, he might be an imposing addition to the tiny tally of plausible Wagner tenors. In this performance he only achieved a deep effect in his tender musings over the sleep- ing Sieglinde near the end of Act II.
That act had begun with an unscheduled appearance by all nine Valkyries, then some horrifying warrior wails from Carol Yahr, the Briinnhilde. She squalled her way through the act, her appearance youth- ful, her reactions gauche; batting one's eye- lids at War Father is no behaviour for a Valkyrie. Wotan, as incarnated in Oddb- jorn Ten4ord, has no stage presence and a mediocre quality of voice. Yet something in the great monologue gripped him and made us listen hard to that astounding pas- sage, once thought to be so dull that it was routinely heavily cut. Fricka was Rosemarie Lang, not subtle but mightily effective, as she taunted her husband into submission. The act took place on a rotating 'abstract' rock formation which served its purpose.
Act III was Christmas trees, snow-cov- ered, and a ski run. The Valkyries were a lusty crew, though unattractively costumed. Once they went, the tremendous last scene showed a Brfinnhilde improving both in action and voice, a Wotan running out of the latter and becoming a little more plau- sible. The situation could have been hugely improved were the conductor someone less utterly routine than Heinz Fricke. His way of achieving unity was to conduct at a state- ly andante virtually throughout, only slow- ing down emphatically for the brief and glorious scene between Briinnhilde and Sieglinde in Act III, the highlight of the evening. This opera is so potent a work that one can never be unmoved by it, but it might quite easily have been far better: it generated no sense of occasion.
The European Chamber Opera is at Hol- land Park on its extensive tour of England, lasting till January. Die ZauberflOte, on the `I said I'd collect.' pleasantest evening of the week, was a dis- aster. I could have overlooked much of the production's inaptitude, such as dispensing with a serpent to chase Tamino — who fur- thermore flung himself, unchased, around the stage during the second half of the Overture. I might even think having the spoken dialogue in English and the singing in German (except for the Boys) a decent idea. There are some promising voices. As always, the ultimate responsibility is the conductor's, and Andrea Quinn contrived the most rhythmically flaccid, dramatically inert accompaniment I could never have imagined. The orchestra is perfectly com- petent, so could do with some encourage- ment beyond double-handed time beating. Since this is one of the works by which I judge all others, I left in the interval.
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