Music 10, Concept 2

Wagner’s glorious music for “Die Walkyrie” was passionately conducted by our own dear James Levine and just as gloriously sung by one of the best casts heard over the past few years. Soprano Eva-Maria Westbroek as Sieglind and tenor Jonas Kaufmann as Siegmund made a winning pair and watching their love develop, supported by the tenderest theme in all of Wagner’s work, is a highlight of the evening. Another highlight was the eight valiant Walkyries; the Met managed to find and cast women as well-endowed vocally as they were physically. Vocal honors must be heaped upon mezzo Stephanie Blythe, whose Fricka let us know who’s boss on that stage. Soprano Deborah Voigt portrayed Brunnhilde as heroic but vulnerable. Bass-baritone Bryn Terfel sang better without his hair hanging in his face as it was in “Das Rheinhold”. He still seems to be finding his way as Wotan; his tenderness towards Brunnhilde at the end was quite touching but he has not yet mastered the commanding aspect of gottheit, which came so naturally to James Morris. Bass Hans-Peter Konig made a fearsome Hunding, his presence perfectly matching the sound of his theme in the brass section.

On the other hand, the concept of Robert Lepage and the set designed by Carl Fillion remain as irritating as they were in “Das Rheingold”. Every culture has its myths and their concomitant visual representations. The Dark Ages of Europe, during which this epic seems to be set-- as evidenced by its tribal nature and its oppression of women--calls forth images from the fairytales of our childhood and not this high-tech monstrosity, many of whose images called forth titters. The Walkyries arrived sitting on seesaws? boogie boards? sliding boards? Yes, the concept is original, but it doesn’t at all suit the mood, the time, or the place. Siegfried arrives in Hunding’s hut and curls up on top of a rather well-carpentered table with matching camp stools which tucked neatly underneath like something you would get at the Door Store for a starter apartment. Fricka rolls in on a throne flanked by a pair of rams. It might have been an interesting idea to have Siegfried surrounded by Hunding’s vengeful clansmen during the fight, but his sword never shatters! We don’t see the shattered sword until Brunnhilde brings Sieglinde to her sister Walkyries. When Wotan is bidding Brunnhilde farewell there is a huge iceberg? behind them with projected avalanches of snow. The opera ends with her hanging upside down like the Hanging Man card in a tarot deck.

Aside from these peculiarities, the singers moved around the set effectively and interacted appropriately to each other and to the remarkable music, which is the true setting of the story. For want of Otto Schenk’s dearly missed production, it is best to mentally superimpose recollected images of same onto the travesty onstage.

(c)meche kroop for The Opera Insider