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Showing posts with label Tristan und Isolde. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tristan und Isolde. Show all posts

Ben Heppner: Tristan und Isolde: Welsh National Opera (WNO) - 2012 Update

Written By The Wagnerian on Tuesday 1 November 2011 | 12:20:00 am


Update: We provide a Photo Preview here

I did say I would try to keep you updated. However, given that it is 12 months to first night, news is not "coming thick and fast" - as would be expected. Nevertheless, WNO have very kindly provided a little more detailed  information, together with some images of the 2006 revival. I have also included some reviews of the production from 2006.




Sung in German with English surtitles (Welsh in Wales Millennium Centre) First night 19 May 2012.

Photo: Bill Cooper
Tristan                                       Ben Heppner
King Marke                                Matthew Best
Isolde                                        Ann Petersen
Kurwenal                                   Phillip Joll
Melot                                         Simon Thorpe
Brangaene                                Susan Bickley
Shepherd                                  Chorus
Helmsman                                 Chorus
Sailor                                        Chorus
                                               
Conductor                                 Lothar Koenigs
                                               
Original Director                        Yannis Kokkos
Revival Director                         Peter Watson
Designer                                   Yannis Kokkos
Lighting Designer                      Guido Levi
Original Movement Director        Kate Flatt
Assistant Designer                    Muriel Trembleau
Staff Director                            Carmen Jakobi

Co-production with Scottish Opera




Reviews (2006 revival):

Rian Evans
The Guardian,  Monday 2 October 2006 

"Yannis Kokkos's 1993 staging of Tristan und Isolde for Welsh National Opera suggested an integrity of concept that would not date - and so it has proved. In Peter Watson's revival, its classic lines retained all their clarity while allowing Wagner's ecstatic poem to pervade and invade the senses."


Photo: Bill Cooper



George Hall: The Stage, Tuesday 3 October 2006

"Welsh National Opera revives Yannis Kokkos’ 1993 production of Wagner’s transcendent exploration of love and death in a distinguished performance. Kokkos’ self-designed staging is visually highly effective, presenting the opera’s narrative line with exceptional clarity and truth, and the semi-abstract sets have an aptly timeless quality.


This is another show that displays the world-class credentials of the Welsh company. Wagner fans should move heaven and earth to see this outstanding production as it tours over the next few weeks"




Neil Fisher: The Times, October 2006

"Yannis Kokkos’s production is more about suggestive abstraction. At times, the effect is striking — Tristan’s death, on a giant, protruding slab and lit by an eerie green glow, makes for a striking tableau."

Photo: Bill Cooper


More at: Welsh National Opera
12:20:00 am | 0 comments | Read More

Where and when to listen to: Bayreuth 2011: Tristan und Isolde

Written By The Wagnerian on Tuesday 26 July 2011 | 4:43:00 pm

"After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true. --Spock in 'Amok Time'

Following yesterdays Tannhauser, next-up (well to be broadcasted anyway): another revival of Christoph Marthaler's Tristan und Isolde for Vulcans (I.E. Tristan without emotion - you see there was a reason for the Spock quote). By the way, the next new production of Tristan at Bayreuth (they do so love a revival after all) will not be until 2015's Katharina Wagner's production - papier-mâché mask makers; get your tenders in now.


Of course, this production is now available on DVD so at least you need not struggle to find out what is happening on stage as you listen. There is a good  overview (at least it is balanced) of the production over at Musical Criticism - click here to read. Obviously, there are a lot of snippets on youtube and I include some here for your consideration.

So without fiurther ado, where, when and who:

When to Listen:

Friday, 29 July, from 15.57 (CET)


Where to Listen:

4:43:00 pm | 0 comments | Read More

Goodall's Studio 1982 Tristan und Isolde (finally!) reissued

Written By The Wagnerian on Tuesday 12 July 2011 | 1:10:00 am

I must say this is something of a treat if you have not got it already. Long deleted by Decca, for reasons many have never understood, possibly one of the greatest Tristans no one has ever heard - now finally released by ArkivMusic. I have two copies of the original and have thus  not seen the ArkivMusic release, so I cannot comment on "packaging", presentation, remastering (if any) etc.

More details, including music samples here

Review:


As a total human experience that brings Wagner's score directly to the heart and sustains that emotional involvement throughout almost five hours, this is a remarkable recording indeed.

In Fanfare 5:4 I reviewed the LP release of this 1981 recording, and stated: "I listened through this set seven or eight times before committing myself to this review. . . . Throughout that process, Goodall's performance has continued to grow in my estimation. I believe this to be one of the most important Wagnerian recordings ever made, one that future generations will label 'historic.' As a total human experience, an experience that brings Wagner's score directly to the heart and sustains that emotional involvement throughout almost five hours, this is a remarkable set of records indeed."

Well, my timing was a bit off (it's closer to four hours than to five), but fourteen years have not changed my view of the recording; in fact, the years have only strengthened my feelings. When people speak of the important Tristan recordings, Furtwängler's comes immediately to mind (as well it should), as does the Reiner/Flagstad/Melchior from 1936 (on VAI). Then others note the Böhm/Nilsson on DG, Karajan's 1952 Bayreuth Festival performance with Modi and Vinay (on Arkadia), or his EMI set with Vickers and Dernesch. Not too many people mention this Decca set in that league, probably because its singers are not international Wagnerian stars and its conductor is known only to a few cognoscenti and to British critics, who are often accused of chauvinism anyhow (not without cause, I might add).

Make no mistake about it, though: this is a truly great performance, engineered with marvel-ously free and open sound and a very natural perspective. Its total impact earns it consideration as the basic Tristan for any collection. Goodall is at the center of the performance and every effective detail stems from him, but not in a way that calls attention to itself. He hand-picked the cast and coached them with unusual thoroughness. The result is a performance of total ensemble, a performance where every line tells, every musical phrase from each singer or the orchestra is fitted into what went before it and what comes after it. Characters interact with each other rather than sing to us, and the result is as close to Wagner's total concept of musical drama as it may be possible to come.

None of that would count if the voices couldn't cut it, but that is not an issue. Linda Esther Gray sounds like a genuine Isolde; I don't know why she never became a Wagnerian superstar; perhaps in the theater her voice did not carry sufficiently, though there is no sense here of artificial help from the microphones. Her curse is blood-curdling (in the best sense of that word) in act I, but once she drinks the potion she is all tenderness and vulnerability. Her high Cs in the second act ring out freely, thrillingly. At the end, in her Liebestod, she gives us both dignity and ecstasy, the right combination. Mitchinson is not quite in her league. His voice is a bit leathery where we might prefer liquid beauty, but how many Tristans have given us liquid beauty? Mitchinson brings to the role a surprising range of vocal color, genuine passion, strong musicianship, and a great deal of specificity in word-painting. In the act III delirium we are drawn into Tristan's agony. The other singers are more than adequate; Joli a vital, human Kurwenal (far less wooden than many) and Howell finding the right balance between strength, nobility, and compassion as Marke.

But it is the conducting that is the raison d'être of this set. While Goodall's tempos are slightly on the slow side, they never drag, and certainly never want for power. At the climax of act I, where most conductors rush to a frenetic close, he lets the music build slowly and inevitably, and the crushing effect is surely what Wagner had in mind (it is not, after all, a Verdian or Rossinian finale). When the lovers meet in act II, the orchestra consumes us in a raging sea of passion. The love duet is sensual, undulating, highly erotic. Goodall obeys Wagner's markings scrupulously, but more than that he has thought about what each marking means and what part it plays in the whole, how it fits. No one moment of the score calls attention to itself, or stands apart. It is, in fact, in the area of relationships between tempos and transitions from one to the other that Goodall is uniquely effective, along with his keen ear for harmonic tension, balance, and color.

I won't go on. This is a truly great Wagner recording, and in my view it is the finest modern recording of Tristan. The orchestral playing is for the most part superb, though there are occasional ragged attacks and releases (Goodall was said to be less than clear with his stick). None of those are a distraction from the kind of performance that the recording industry was meant to preserve. Decca may not be releasing this on its London label in the United States, so you might have to get it as a British import. I can think of few recordings more worthy of such an effort.

Henry Fogel, FANFARE [11/1995]



Interview with Goodall conducted in 1982 when this was released:



THE FIRST DIGITAL TRISTAN

By Bruce Duffie

A Talk With the Maestro, the Hero and the Boss

[From Wagner News, Vol. IX, No. 1, February 1982]

A new recording of Tristan and Isolde is a very special happening, and a first-ever set in digital sound is even more spectacular. Just such a thing has come from a perhaps unlikely source – the Welsh National Opera. With assistance from Amoco, a production was mounted in the theater and subsequently recorded using the new digital process. A striking feature of this venture is the lack of star-names in the cast, so the immediate interest rests with the conductor – Reginald Goodall. In recent years, Maestro Goodall has become something of a cult-figure, leading spectacular accounts of the Ring and Die Meistersinger – or more properly The Mastersingers. With casts of British singers of moderate renown, these productions of the English National Opera (formerly the Sadler’s Wells) caused a great stir in operatic circles. Doing the Ring in an international house with established stars is difficult enough, but in translation and with repertory singers? The skeptics came and were convinced. The singing was first-rate, the sets were impressive and the playing of the orchestra was inspired. Inspired by whom? The man responsible was Reginald Goodall, whose broad tempos gave a scope and sweep to the works that brought comparisons with Knappertsbusch and Furtwängler. As it happens, Goodall worked with Furtwängler for about three years, but has spent most of his time in England at Covent Gardens and at the Wells. He has coached numerous singers and conducted performances of many works. In 1945, he led the world premiere of Peter Grimes. Though he often complains that he is getting too old for this or that (he was born in 1905), he continues to inspire and lead the largest works of Wagner. Most recently, he was involved in two different productions of Tristan – one in the new Andrew Porter translation for the ENOC, and another in the original German for the Welsh National Opera.

Since Amoco put up much of the money for the Welsh production and the recording, it seemed natural for them to unveil their efforts to America at the corporate headquarters in Chicago. So, Reginald Goodall, John Mitchinson, Linda Esther Gray and Brian McMaster (the conductor, Tristan, Isolde, and General Administrator of the opera company) came for a couple of days to the Windy City. We kept them busy – a press conference, several interviews, Fidelio at Lyric Opera and a concert of the Chicago Symphony! It was my privilege to spend an hour with three of the honored guests – Miss Gray had to leave early, so I chatted with the Maestro, the Hero and the Boss. Mr. McMaster had to attend to other arrangements, so he made the introductions and then returned midway through our conversation.

In the previous interviews in this series for Wagner News, I have only talked with one guest at a time, so the conversation simply went back and forth. This time I had three guests, and the conversation was passed around as conversations usually are. So rather than confuse things in the printed text, just be careful and watch who’s talking. I wish I could convey on the printed page their cheery voices – the rich ring from the tenor, the wise old voice of the conductor and the calm, patient voice of the administrator. As always, the discussion ranged far and wide, and here is much of that very interesting hour…

Bruce Duffie: One of the things that fascinated me about the recording was that it is in German. Maestro Goodall, you are famous for doing Wagner in English. How do you feel about translations?

Reginald Goodall: I think the immediacy for people hearing it in their own language and understanding it, has a great effect. It deepens the whole impact.

BD: Do you find it brings you closer to the audience?

Goodall: Yes, especially in works like the Ring with all that repartee, for instance, between Wotan and Mime.

BD: You’ve done it in both the original German and in Andrew Porter’s translation. What is the change for you as a conductor?

Goodall: [Photo at right] When one does it in English, you feel you’re three people together: the singers, the orchestra, and the public. We’re all enjoying it together. At Covent Garden (where it’s done in the original German), I get the feeling that we’re making a performance and the public has come to see it, whereas at the Coliseum (where it’s done in an English translation), they become a part of the performance.

BD: With this in mind, is there a validity for doing Tristan in German for English-speaking audiences?

Goodall: There’s this whole problem of sound in Tristan – the vowels fit the notes he wrote and I think you lose something in the English. Wagner said of Tristan, “It’s a cry, nothing but a cry.” One needs to hear that in the voice all the way through. She must cry like a woman and not like a hausfrau. But that’s coming to the “art” end of opera, not the purely musical end.

BD: Do the acoustics of the various houses play a part in this? Are some houses not suited to Wagner?

Goodall: Yes, it can be very poor for Wagner.

BD: How do you overcome this – or can you?

Goodall: I don’t think that you can. For instance, I think Covent Garden is very dry – at least for Wagner. The Coliseum, though, is magnificent.

BD: There, everything is in English so the acoustics have to be better.

Goodall: Yes.

BD: Are there times when you do an opera in English and the words don’t come across, and it might have been better to have done it in the original?

Goodall: Yes, there are, very much so. I think that happened in our Tristan at the Coliseum – the words didn’t come across.

BD: Is this the same problem for male singers as with female singers?

Goodall: It’s much more of a problem with the female singers.

BD: [To the tenor] How do you enjoy singing the role of Tristan?

John Mitchinson: I did 16 performances for the Welsh National Opera over a period of 18 months, and it was the most fulfilling two years of my life – learning the part and then performing it.

BD: How is Maestro Goodall different from other major conductors – or is that an indelicate question?

Mitchinson: I don’t think it’s an indelicate question at all. He gets to the root of the matter. I started by opening the first page of the score with him, and for me it paid great dividends. We built up this tremendous relationship.


BD: How has opera evolved over the last 30 or 40 years – how is Wagner different today?

Goodall: Well, Wagner wouldn’t be different, would he? I find the young people are so much more knowledgeable today – more sensible. They know more about it than does oneself which is terrible! (Note: This remark produced laughter all around.)

BD: Is this just Wagner, or opera in general?

Goodall: I think probably all of opera.

Mitchinson: More people tend to specialize today in one particular period.

BD: Is this due in part to recordings?

GR: I think that has a lot to do with it, yes.

BD: Do you find it satisfying to make recordings?

Goodall: I didn’t until this time. Always before I’ve recorded just from live performances, and I like this being able to stop and correct things. I think we had a very good producer – Andrew Cornell.

Mitchinson: He was tremendous – completely unflappable. We had a bit of trouble because the Isolde was sick for the whole of the first week of recording.

BD: You did a lot of Act III, then?

Mitchinson: I did 23 hours of recording in that one week – the whole of Act III, all my scenes in Act I, a lot of the love duet of Act II and even my part of the Act I duet just in case. There were eight weeks between the two weeks of recording, and I might have taken ill.

BD: Are you happy with the recording as it now stands?

Goodall: Yes, I think it’s come out quite well. There are always things one wants to change…

BD: If this recording had been set up to be done in English, would that have made a difference to you?

Goodall: Yes, I think it would. It was different at the Coliseum. For instance, take a man like Gwynne Howell who’s sung Marke in German umpteen times all over the continent and at Covent Garden. Suddenly he realized his full potential by doing it in his own language; he gave an added something. I think it’s the same thing with the Germans singing in English. Hotter wouldn’t reach his full potential singing it in English.

BD: Did you see those performances in the late 40’s of Walküre at Covent Garden?

Goodall: Yes, yes, and those were in English with Hotter and Flagstad.

BD: Were those performances successful?

Goodall: That’s hard to say. I don’t think they were as successful as they should have been because the Covent Garden audience is pretty snobby. Although they didn’t understand a word of German, they expected it to be in that language.

BD: Was the diction from Flagstad and Hotter acceptable – could you understand it?

Goodall: Yes. Some of the singers who were singing in English (I won’t mention names) were very hard to understand, but I thought Hotter and Flagstad were very successful.

BD: Have you done Parsifal in English?

Goodall: No.

BD: You’ve done it in German and I wondered if it would work in translation.

Goodall: That should be in English. It’s like Tristan, especially in the first act First Act with all that narration of Gurnemanz.

BD: Is Wagner fun?

Goodall: Fun? No!!

BD: Do you find Wagner fun to sing?

Mitchinson: I find it a great challenge, and I must say I had possibly more happiness actually during our rehearsals. I don’t know if that’s fun. We had a lot of laughs and did a lot of singing.

Goodall: But in performance… you don’t enjoy it do you? It’s a responsibility.

Mitchinson: It’s a tremendous responsibility, but terribly fulfilling. We did Tristan every Saturday night for about eight weeks, and I always said that Tristan was a week’s work. It took me until Wednesday at breakfast to get over last Saturday’s performance, and at 10 A.M. Wednesday you started worrying about next Saturday’s performance. It really is like that.

BD: Do you find that in operas by other composers?

Mitchinson: No, I don’t think so. I’m a Stravinsky man and Janáček man and a kind of early Schoenberg man, but I don’t find the same kind of mental, spiritual challenge that I do withTristan. I think Peter Grimes has the same sort of effect on me, but I don’t worry about Grimes. He is a terribly inward character.

BD: Is he neurotic?

Mitchinson: Yes, I think he is neurotic to a certain extent. That has the same sort of mental effect on me, but of course it’s not in such large proportions.

BD: You conducted the first performance of Grimes. Was it successful right from the start?

Goodall: The performance was, yes, but not the rehearsals.

BD: How did the public receive it in 1945?

Goodall: Oh very well – we were amazed – not that we thought it wasn’t a great opera, but we thought it was going to be an absolute flop.

BD: Why?

Goodall: In those days Sadler’s Wells was all bogged down with the standard repertory kind of operas, but they wanted to re-open with a new opera by an Englishman; very patriotic, you know…

BD: Are all musicians the servants of the composer?

Goodall: As a general rule, I would think we ought to be. I think we ought to be above all, yes.

BD: Is the composer the servant of mankind?

Goodall: Yes, I would think that, too. It’s not his own spirit he’s given us, it’s God-given. I think we’re all in life to serve mankind in our various ways, whatever one does.

BD: How much influence on you are the prose writings of Wagner?

Goodall: Quite a lot.

BD: Do those writings alter your judgment about some of the musical pieces?

Goodall: Perhaps not alter the judgment, but it opens your mind more to what he was getting at.

BD: Let me ask you about the end of Götterdämmerung – what is the ultimate meaning of the last five minutes?

Goodall: I think Wagner was under the influence of Cosima and the conditions at that time. He ended in the spirit of a certain optimism. But I agree with the original theme where Brünnhilde says, “Again go through this hell of life? No!” I think Schopenhauer formed all Wagner’s philosophy. He was behind it, behind Tristan certainly. Life is cruel, yes.

BD: Do you bring a certain cruelty, then, to the end of the Ring?

Goodall: Oh, no, not what he’s got now. Wagner leaves it open – there will be a re-birth again. But originally, I’m sure Cosima and the conditions at that time, even King Ludwig might not have appreciated it. They might not have had the strength to face up to the pessimism of Schopenhauer. A certain happy ending must come…

BD: There have been times when Don Giovanni has been produced without the happy ending finale – it is left with the death of Giovanni. Do you agree with that or is that a mistake?

Goodall: No, I agree with it, but I happen to have a pessimistic outlook.

BD: Really! Are you pessimistic about the future of opera?

Goodall: Yes, I am.

BD: Why?

Goodall: I think we’ve come to the end of the road, you see. People don’t come to all these new operas which are offered, and if people don’t come, what do they perform for?

BD: Should the public be satisfied to hear the same old operas over and over again?

Goodall: I think there are millions of people in England who’ve only heard Bohème once, if that. I suppose it’s quite a small number. How many people have heard the Ring completely out of the total population? Or Parsifal?

BD: Let’s talk a bit about productions. It seems now that we’ve gone away from the naturalistic, realistic productions of Wagner and of other works. Are we pulling the operas out of shape with these kinds of productions?

Goodall: I don’t think so; I think we’re making them deeper. We’re getting to the aesthetic. The inner meaning – I wouldn’t say religious – is much more important now.

BD: Are we making them deeper, or are we finding more depth in them?

Goodall: We’re finding more depth in them. The producers are searching for more depth, and I’m all for these new approaches – even if they’re wrong in a way – as long as one’s searching for it.

BD: How much authority can the conductor have? Can you say, “This is wrong, we shouldn’t do it.”?

Goodall: If you engage a producer who’s supposed to have a name and you start altering his conception, aren’t you spoiling it? What if the producer came to me and said I must take the opera at a certain tempo? I think you must get the right producer and let him work.

Mitchinson: [Photo at left] But isn’t it all a question of human relationships – whether one is attuned or on the same wave length with the other person?

BD: How do the different productions affect you as a singer?

Mitchinson: Well, you’re talking to one who has not done all that much staged opera. I was a concert singer for a heck of a long time, and actually Tristan was my seventh major opera on stage. I’ve done many broadcasts for the BBC archives – in fact having done so many rarely–heard works for the BBC, I think I’ve got the biggest repertoire of useless roles of anybody in the world!

BD: Then let me ask this: does your approach change when you do operas in concert form?

Mitchinson: We did a concert performance of Tristan at Snape, Aldeborough, and it was absolute magic. We just stood there and made music.

BD: Do you find, then, that recordings are very much like concert work?

Goodall: Yes. One can get into more of the interpretation. The singers are right there, not at the back of the stage a long way away. Something surely goes, and that something in music is so important.

BD: But opera is supposed to be music and drama together – doesn’t concert opera lose a bit of the drama?

Goodall: I agree in a way, but when you say drama... (Maestro Goodall begins to sing the love music from Tristan) ...when the lights go down and these two are left in a pool and the world has disappeared, that is magic if you can get it, but when do you get it? It happened at Bayreuth – Wieland Wagner had it with the orchestra out of sight.

BD: Is that the ideal way to do Wagner – with the orchestra out of sight?

Goodall: Yes, I think so. Who wants to see a conductor waving about? (Note: I mentioned that some people come just to watch the conductor, and this provoked a gale of laughter from the maestro!)

BD: Would that way of producing operas – with the orchestra out of sight – be correct for La Boheme?

Goodall: I’m not sure about that; people have said no. It’s a different atmosphere, a different world. I think the true opera-lovers know what they’re going to see.

BD: How do we get more people to become true opera-lovers?Mitchinson: I think the whole world of the arts suffers at the education level in the formative years. There is not enough attention paid to teaching the youngsters of today the truly basic good things in life. The way music is taught in schools – and this is fairly general at the moment – the students laugh at it. It is not presented in a good way.

BD: How can you present a course in opera to 12-year-olds?

Mitchinson: It’s a very difficult question, but I think music and movement would be very valuable. Start with Hansel and Gretel types and work up and up, doing things in translation where necessary. Children have got to be educated. It’s no use for an opera house opening its doors saying this performance is specially for children unless the staff at the school have spent some time preparing the children for what they will experience. Write out a little scenario and get the kids to act it so that they feel part of the plot. It seems silly to me that it’s not done, especially since people continue to have more and more leisure times on their hands.

BD: Is opera really for leisure time?

Mitchinson: Oh, yes. I don’t think I’m an educator at all; I think I’m a performer.

BD: You don’t put opera on a pedestal and say, “This is Great Art?”

Mitchinson: Why of course it’s great art.

BD: Is great art also entertainment?

Mitchinson: Yes, it is indeed. I’m entertained by going to an opera. Aren’t you?

BD: I find myself more invigorated than entertained; more stimulated…

Mitchinson: Aren’t you invigorated or stimulated by going to a baseball game?

BD: Sometimes.

Mitchinson: There you are. We’re all entertainers, really. We’re no better and no worse than the performing dog at the circus.

BD: A trained seal?

Mitchinson: Yes… Sometimes they make better noises than we do… (Laughter all around)

BD: (to Goodall) Do you enjoy being a seal-trainer? (More laughter all around) Seriously, when you are teaching a role to a singer, what do you look for?

Goodall: So many things… the meaning of the words, the sound of the music, actual notes, the intonation…



* * (At this point, Brian McMaster returned and joined the conversation) * *



BD: You are the General Administrator of the Welsh National Opera. Does that mean you are responsible for choosing repertoire and singers?

Brian McMaster:  Yes.

BD: Then you are the one to ask this question – where is opera going today?

McMaster: Well, I suppose it’s becoming more and more of a museum. This is something that worries Reggie. Opera is getting farther and farther away from audiences. Obviously that’s platitudinous, and somehow somebody’s got to do something to work it out. Nobody’s writing popular new operas.

BD: Should new operas be, necessarily, popular?

McMaster: There’s no point in creating anything that doesn’t appeal, that doesn’t have an audience.

BD: Are there any operas that you feel are masterpieces that the audience hates?

Goodall: No, I think the ones that are masterpieces are produced and mean something to people.

McMaster: I think there are works in existence that probably are masterpieces where there still is a gag of acceptability. Die Soldaten by Zimmermann is probably a case in point. I think it is a blazing masterpiece, but it’s still difficult. I gather that the Frankfurt production was a big success with a large and young audience, and that’s important. But Zimmermann died ten years ago…

BD: Will the same audience that comes and cheers for Die Soldaten come and cheer for Tristan or Poppea?

McMaster: Yes, I don’t think that matters particularly. Opera is a wide art form – it’s like books. Books cover a multitude of sins; opera covers a multitude of sins. It’s a major art form and a very wide-ranging one. You don’t have an audience for Wagner and another for Monteverdi. I don’t think that matters particularly, as long as there is an audience. My point is that there seems to be no audience at all for some of the new pieces that are being written.

BD: Does the audience for Wagner go to Monteverdi?

McMaster: Oh, some do. I like both, but it’s worrying that composers are turning away from the opera house and are going more toward the concert halls and chamber ensembles.

BD: If you could go to a composer and dictate items that you would like in a new opera, would that help make it a great opera?

Mitchinson: If we did it wouldn’t be his opera.

McMaster: I think that’s right. You rely on the creator to create and expound with ideas into a new art form. That is essentially his job.

Mitchinson: And there are tremendous problems to be met with in every new role, and it’s my job to get over them. If I stipulated what I wanted, I would possibly get an opera written without any hurdles at all, which wouldn’t be worth singing.

BD: Is this the spark of the interpreter – to take something that is impossible and bring it off?

Mitchinson: Yes! Yes, surely!

BD: How do you decide which new roles you will sing?

Mitchinson: I’m not an ambitious man in the sense that I’ve never planned a career. Others say they will sing certain roles by a certain age and other roles by a later age. I’ve done a lot of concert operas for the BBC and much concert and recital repertoire. I tend to take what is offered to me and look at it, and then say yes or no.

BD: How do you decide when to say “no?”

Mitchinson: It can be a combination of things – whether one is going to be overworking or not, and whether the actual character suites my particular personality; a combination really.

BD: Are you going to do more Wagner?

Mitchinson: I’ve no idea.

Goodall: He did Siegmund with me about ten years ago and I would very much like to do more with him.

Mitchinson: We get on very well together. We had a joke which shows the relationship we had all through the rehearsals of Tristan: I used to disappear for a couple of days during rehearsals – it was all planned and Mr. McMaster knew about it, but not Mr. Goodall. I was accused then of popping up to Huddersfield for a sausage supper!

McMaster: It was, of course, completely OK to most people, but to Mr. Goodall it was completely unreasonable.

BD: Are singers by and large unreasonable?

Goodall: No, I don’t think so. They’re like children in a way, but I think the idea that singers, especially tenors, are generally stupid is ridiculous. Quite frankly, all the tenors I’ve met and had the good fortune to deal with have been very intelligent.

BD: Are the tenors better today than they were 40 to 50 years ago?

Goodall: When I read about them they seem to have been very vain years ago…

Mitchinson: I think we’ve got to work far harder these days then they had to. My old teacher was Heddle Nash, and he could go around the country for two years with maybe twelve operatic arias, three operatic roles, four oratorios, and one recital program. That would suffice him for two years, but now you can’t do that. I’ve got to sing everything from baroque composers to Gurrelieder, and now Wagner and things like Lehar. I don’t get the opportunity to sing Monteverdi, though I’d like to. We really have to go through the whole spectrum, and you’ve got to really know it because of the demands. The jet plane has done a lot to kill off more singers than anything else. I remember getting a call at my home in Glausteshire and 26 hours later I was rehearsing Beatrice and Benedict with Ozawa in San Francisco. Five days after that I’d done three performances and was back home.

BD: Is it too much?

Mitchinson: Yes, of course it is. There’s no way you can sing Handel or Bach one night and Berlioz or Wagner the next.

BD: Whose fault is it that singers have these kinds of schedules?

Mitchinson: It’s the singer’s fault because the hardest – but most useful – word to say is “no.”

BD: What is the ideal way to distribute the Ring operas?

Goodall: I think what Wagner laid down is quite good – like at Bayreuth. Monday and Tuesday, then Thursday, then Saturday. Under these conditions, people are doing nothing else – just resting, rather than coming after a hard day’s work.

BD: Is it a mistake for the public to come to the opera after beating their brains out working all day?

Goodall: That is what happens in London, isn’t it?

BD: It happens all over the world.

Goodall: Yes, but not at Bayreuth. You can rest in the morning, or read. That’s how I spend my time.

Mitchinson: This is where the “entertainment” value comes in.

Goodall: Wagner had the Greek idea of the theater, that it is a religious ceremony, and that people devoted their whole life to it.

BD: For me, personally, it’s such an experience that I take the day off when I’m going to the theater; then the opera becomes the day’s event.

Goodall: That’s ideal. But of course you wouldn’t do that for Cav and Pag would you? There’s not enough substance in those. (This provokes laughter all around.)

BD: Let me ask you about the Flying Dutchman. Should it be done in one piece or three?

Goodall: I’ve not done it enough to say. I rather like it in three, but that’s only because I’ve gotten used to it at Covent Garden. I heard it in one at Bayreuth, of course, and there’s an obvious reason why they do it that way there – it works well. But I don’t think I’d like to speak about it musically at the moment.

BD: What is the place of Rienzi?

Goodall: Well, I’ve got a blind spot – Wagner’s music on the whole doesn’t appeal to me until we get to Meistersinger. Only then do we find his own real personality. Before that, it’s suffused with Marschner and Bellini. When he knew his harmony in that masterly way, as in Götterdämmerung, then that’s Wagner. That’s why he stopped doing the Ring I’m sure – he had to write these other operas and he couldn’t do the end of Siegfried and Götterdämmerung until he had gotten that. Götterdämmerung is a wonderful opera, and the subtleties ofParsifal are overwhelming. But he had to practice. He said to Cosima, “My greatest art is the art of transition” and transition above all is necessary in Götterdämmerung. There are no false jerks or anything – it just goes in one great sweep.

BD: Is it too long?

Goodall: I don’t think so. Wagner thought Tristan was a shade too long.

BD: Do you approve of cuts?

Goodall: No! Nowhere. Wieland Wagner put one in a chorus in Lohengrin. Perhaps that cut is all right, but nowhere else. There’s a wonderful book by Lawrence – do you know it? The Secret of Form in Richard Wagner’s Music Dramas. It’s very detailed and marvelous. He shows that if you cut out bars it upsets the balance. In Meistersinger, there’s the first stollen, second stollen, and abgesang, and they balance up the number of bars.

BD: Is that kind of balance in the other operas, too?

Goodall: Yes, yes. Lawrence explains what goes on. It’s in Götterdämmerung, and Parsifal, and especially in Tristan. Tristan is precisely balanced. Wagner used key stages, and he arrives at a certain key at the right time.

BD: What about cuts in non-Wagner operas? Would you cut Bellini or Mascagni?

Goodall: I would…

McMaster: He’d cut the whole thing and close the door of the theater! (Much laughter)

Goodall: Well, it’s the difference between a Beethoven symphony and one by Marschner. The Beethoven is precisely calculated. Nowadays, they repeat the exposition before going on to the development section. What was so wonderful about a conductor like Furtwängler was that his repeat of the first part was different. It had slightly more intensity leading into the development section, so in a sense it was progressing. He got it in a spontaneous way; he stated the material he was going to use again with added intensity. It became more vital.

BD: Is there any parallel between that and the prize song in Meistersinger which is heard several times?

Goodall: Yes, very much. The tenor always bawls the prize song, but Sachs says to recall the dream. Wieland Wagner was marvelous in getting his Walther to stand and then slowly start recalling it. When it started it was dreamy, but in the final scene it’s a great flood that overwhelms the public and everybody else. That’s why music and production work together with a producer of genius.

BD: Is if difficult to get the chorus to be what you want?

Goodall: It is until you work with them. They also ache for the depth, and it’s one’s job to show them the depths and mysteries of the music. When a producer comes along who doesn’t show them, then they just collect their pay at the end of the week and that’s it. But Wieland Wagner used to handle the chorus at Bayreuth, and it was marvelous because they felt his genius. Then when Walther was singing, there was a look of amazement and understanding as he sang his prize song, and they couldn’t contain themselves.

BD: What about rehearsing the orchestra? How do you get the last chair violin and the third oboe and all the rest to be completely involved?

Goodall: You have got to ask things from them and not rule them like a dictator. You’ve got to do it in a certain way and then they realize what’s happened to the heart of the music. They understand you’re not just doing something to be clever.

Mitchinson: It all boils down to respect.

BD: We’re fortunate that you’ve come to Chicago to share so much of what you have discovered.

Goodall: I like Chicago. I thought I was going to hate it, but I’m very impressed with it. It’s a powerful city. I like your wonderful waterfront. And these high buildings, which depress me in London, seem to have an elevating effect on one here.


And with that, we said our good-byes, and I hoped everyone’s trip home would be safe and happy. Maestro Goodall was going to rest before the evening’s concert, and as I walked with Mr. Mitchinson to the elevator, he reminded me that one of his parts for the BBC had been Rienzi. He said that he liked the part very much, but hoped he would never have to memorize that one – it was simply too long, he said, longer even than Siegfried! Another of his BBC roles was Arindal in Die Feen. He also mentioned that we should change our traffic-pattern to conform with England’s… He then related an incident about a cab ride he and Maestro Goodall had taken earlier in the day. His driver had been stopped by a policeman, and Mr. Mitchinson gave quite a wonderful impression of a Chicago cop…

This new recording of Tristan und Isolde is a 5-disc set, London LDR 75001. The cast includes John Mitchinson (Tristan), Linda Esther Gray (Isolde), Ann Wildens (Brangaene), Philip Joll (Kurwenal), Gwynne Howell (Marke), Nicholas Folwell (Melot), Arthur Davies (Shepherd), Geoffrey Moses (Steersman), and John Harris (Young Sailor). The orchestra and chorus of the WNO are all under the direction of Reginald Goodall.

Naturally, this new digital recording has been getting lots of attention in the press, but one item appeared in the New York Times on Sunday, January 24, which merits special acclaim not so much for what it says – it is a favorable review, calls the recording “superb,” and has a picture of the maestro – but because of the article below the review on the same page. That piece is about a “neglected jazzman” named Lenny Tristano!

One final note: I am aware of the aversion that many people have to the music of Richard Wagner. In fact, some people have commented that it would be a very cold day before they would listen to one of his works. Well, those people got their wish, for the broadcast of this new Tristan recording on WNIB was on January 10, the day of our record-breaking cold of -26 degrees.
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Michael Tanner Reviews: Tristan und Isolde - Grange Park

Written By The Wagnerian on Thursday 7 July 2011 | 8:06:00 pm

As I repeat often, reviews are such subjective things - as is reality according to Schopenhauer of course ("Die Welt ist meine Vorstellung") - but I really am starting to worry about Michael Tanner -  noted Wagnerian he might be - when he defines an entire scene of an opera production to the wrong act (see goblets and skulls) and "shortness of breath"? Indeed, no mention of the excellent Gadd or Fulgoni? (I believe we both attended the same night). Perhaps spending so much time writing for a magazine of which Boris Johnson was editor is damaging the poor chaps memory and  mind? Evil "Spectator", release the poor man at once. I jest of course.

Source: The Spectator

The ultimate challenge
Michael Tanner

Tristan und Isolde is one of the greatest challenges that an opera house can take on, in some ways the greatest of all.

Tristan und Isolde is one of the greatest challenges that an opera house can take on, in some ways the greatest of all. So it is wonderful to be able to report that at Grange Park it has been mounted with a large degree of success, and that most of the things that are wrong with it could easily be righted, though they won’t be. The most remarkable thing about it is the level of singing, almost uniformly high, and certainly with no weak link. Isolde is Alwyn Mellor, Longborough’s Brünnhilde, and also scheduled to sing that role for Opera North and for Seattle. Besides her impressive voice, she has plenty of temperament, and encompasses the whole of Isolde’s emotional range, from the fury and frustration and resulting irony of Act I, to the excited and expectant woman in love of Act II, to the at first distraught and finally transfigured heroine of Act III. The only things that worried me about her singing were a shortness of breath on what should have been sustained high notes, and a tendency to squeeze into notes. How long it is, though, since I saw so complete a realisation of this role, and one which will certainly grow much further.

The Tristan is the veteran Richard Berkeley-Steele, now in his late fifties, but neither looking nor sounding it. He is a rather wooden actor, and did little more than stand around in Act I, apart from an unfortunate attack of what appeared to be vomiting brought on by the love potion, and sit around in Act III. But his voice is pleasant, and at times heroic; and in the most moving passage of all, perhaps, Tristan’s invitation to Isolde to follow him to the ‘Wunderreich der Nacht’ near the end of Act II, he was profound and inward. It is probably the director’s fault rather than the singers’ that chemistry between the lovers was less than ideal.

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Transcendence In Hampshire: Tristan und Isolde - Grange Park Opera - a not review

Written By The Wagnerian on Saturday 2 July 2011 | 10:12:00 pm

“The way the will sometimes takes matters into its own hands can be seen in me. It had its ideas for me, and since I should have otherwise stopped cooperating, it brought us together in real life – independent of the fact that outside of time and space we belong to each other anyway – with the result that I started cooperating again” Richard to Cosima Wagner – February 26, 1872 (Cosima Wagner’s Diaries. Trans: Geoffrey Skelton)



Before we start, a brief explanation: this isn’t a “review”. Reviews remind me of marking sheets and scores; star ratings and thumbs up/thumbs down (pre-finals nightmares come rushing back) . Don’t get me wrong, I like reviews, some are highly entertaining and on occasion, when well written, more enjoyable than the thing they review. However, as I know you dear reader are already aware, they are nothing more than the result of individual sense perception and processing and are thus as unreliable as hundreds of graduate and undergraduate psychology experiments have proven such, perceptions, processing and recall to be. And to this we must add the peculiarities and eccentricities of individual “taste” – especially in opera and even more so in the case of Wagner. And finally, good review writing is a talent and one I simply do not have. And so, with that in mind, the following is the result of my own peculiar sense perception processing and “preferences” about Grange Park Opera’s Tristan und Isolde.

There is an ongoing, heated, but friendly, debate taking place over on the Facebook page of wagnernet at the moment. The warring sides have been split into two opposing armies: those that think Wagner opera staging should remain faithful to the text (let us call them the Cosimas) and those that think opera directors should be free to stage Wagner’s operas in any way that represents whatever their own interpretations of said operas might be (let us call them the Katherinas). This of course is a debate that started at least at the end of the 19th century and one that continues to this day. If you are unfamiliar then simply take a quick look at the clips from two very different productions of the Ring Cycle.

And yet, with a few exceptions, Tristan has entered this debate with far less frequency than anything else Wagner created. The reason for this I think is simple, Tristan is perceived within the context of Wagner’s then growing understanding of Schopenhauer’s philosophy. The number of times I have seen it described as a “meditation” on “Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung or as “not really an opera at all but a form of “oratorio” is, to be frank, boring . There are also two further factors that may add to the lack of dramatic staging of this opera: one, unlike the Ring for example (for reasons that should be clear to those that understand when the libretto of the ring was written and what Wagner believed at that time) Tristan contains very little in the way of stage direction or description. Second, Tristan is often a smaller or newer opera company’s first Wagner opera. This is because it requires far less resources than Wagner’s other works (Wagner “on the cheap” if you like) and in part, I think - due to its reputation as a philosophical oratorio - it is far easier to justify staging it with little in the way of sets, props or indeed acting skills (after all, the work places enough pressure on the performers from a vocal perspective – who wants to add acting to the mix). But this misconception is just so wrong. Wagner was, among many other things, a dramatist. He wrote and told wonderful, complex emotional dramas. Yes, he might well have been trying to change the very core of his audience’s view of reality – and indeed, society as a whole - but he believed that this could only be done, partially, with the use of drama. Wagner was part and parcel of the German Romantic movement and like most of those of this movement he adored Shakespeare and his use of drama. Add to this the fact that his “stepfather” was a renowned actor, as was his first wife and other members of his family and it is easy to see that he was steeped in the theatre. Indeed many associates, including Cosimo, maintained that had he wanted he could have become a fine actor. Tristan is thus, among many other things a damn good piece of dramatic theatre. Don’t believe me? Look at a summary of Tristan:

Girl’s fiancé is murdered by a handsome knight. Girl swears revenge but then ends up healing said knight and falls in love with him. Knight loves girl but sense of honor compels him to bring girl back to his king as his future wife. It’s a “dark and stormy night” at sea, girl calls for revenge. Knight hints he loves girl but she doesn’t seem “to get it”. She seeks to kill him and herself using poison. He sees through it but takes “poison” anyway. Girl drinks too. But faithful servant has used love potion instead. Intrigue, subterfuge, disloyal friends, loyal friends, sword fights. Knight mortally wounded. Knight is rescued by friend. Last minute dash by girl to save hero, loyal friend of hero waits in fear, misunderstanding leads to more sword fights and death, wise king arrives but too late.

Good lord! This could be the plot of any number of highly successful Hollywood blockbusters. And yet time and time again, I hear the same thing: “Wagner’s operas are boring” “Nothing like Verdi, or Puccini” . “Lots of standing around talking” Where is the passion? Where is the drama? Where is the sheer nail biting tension? And time after time opera companies and stage directors repeat the same formula – with variations - that repeat this misconception. So, where is the drama? Where is the emotion? On Thursday night it was found at Grange Park Opera.

This is not to say everything “worked” of course. There were one or two moments that…but more of that later.

Thursday, 30th June 2011
Production

Act one begins, following Wagner’s direction, on a ship; Isolde is in a cabin, accompanied by her faithful servant Brangäne with the ship soon to arrive at port in Cornwall. However, while remaining faithful to the original description here things deviate - but don’t worry it’s mostly for the better. When the curtain opens we are not presented with the medieval sailing vessel one might expect. Instead, we find ourselves on a very modern hovercraft or military sailing vessel. At the front of the ship (stage rear) are Tristan and Kurwenal – hidden behind sliding doors when directions call for it - standing at the “helm”. This is a very modern setting. Think of the way Richard Loncraine and Ian McKellen took Shakespeare’s Richard III and set in an alternative 1930’s England and youre close – or at least getting there. And like that it works well. These are, within the confines of staged opera drama, “real” people. It is just possible to believe that there is some truth in the narration (at least in the Romantic tradition). Tonight will be a night were the action on the stage represents Schopenhauer’s phenomenal reality while the music represents the “true” noumenal reality - a reality of the undifferentiated “one” presenting itself as the the constant uncaring “Wille”. What we see is on stage is the “everyday” , the “real”; what we hear in the music is “true” reality. This is what Wagner’s own writing suggests should be the case – “phenomena on stage, noumenon in the music.

Mellor portrays this most human of Isoldes wonderfully – she is hurt, mortified, angry. Her Wille demands satisfaction: first with Tristan’s presence and devotion and then with his death. She cannot believe that either she did not kill him when she discovered who he was, or that he has now, as she sees it, betrayed her by taking her to King Marke to be married . Right from the beginning Isolde is all Wille, the very epitome of Romanticism. But she is also a very human woman. This is not the metaphysical construct of so many operas, or the unbelievably irrational, angry Isolde of others or even the slightly “icy” Isolde of the legendary Nilsson. No, Mellor makes this Isolde someone who you can sympathise with. This is a very human Isolde indeed.

Before the “love potion”, Steele’s Tristan , with the odd moment of “weakness”, is the embodiment of military control – loyal to his King, royal to his country, patriotic above all else, emotions kept under tight control. He is keeping his true feelings fully in check and yet occasionally, under the surface...

Flagstad, Suthaus, Furtwangler 1951.: Love Duet: Part 1

Kurwenal is less formal, but as Tristan’s friend, is all heroic bravado. There may be the occasional “chink” in Tristan’s “armor” but this is not found in Gadd’s heroic and confident Kurwenal . This is a man firmly of the enlightenment . And again, within the setting, this is fully plausible.

Brangäne is generally portrayed as Isolde’s loyal servant, the soundboard for Isoldes emotions and yet also, to some small degree the voice of “reason”. And while this remains the case, in this production Brangäne s “rationality” is taken further than I think I have seen before. Here Brangäne is transformed from a faithful servant to a super efficient PA. This is emphasized as the curtains open and we find Brangäne, in a black business suit, clipboard in hand, hair tied back, perhaps writing a report or filling in a check-list – all very “business like”. Initially, this Brangäne seems less sympathetic to Isoldes unhappiness than is often the case. If Isolde, and soon Tristan, are embodiments of the Romantic Movements rejection of the Enlightenments pure reason then Brangäne here is that reason personified. From a Freudian perspective (and as we know, Tristan has been analysed from just about every perspective) Brangäne is fully Isolde’s superego and nowhere has this been made more explicit than in this production. Indeed, due to this there were moments early on in the act were I felt Branigans obvious bewilderment and lack of understanding of Isolde’s mortification risked lessening the impact of Isoldes emotions on the audience (it can be very easy to ridicule Isolde’s “rant” in the first act) but thankfully this decreased as soon as mention of the poison came into play and Brangäne grew both more sympathetic, and in equal measure, horrified by what is about to take place and her own role in it.

Flagstad, Suthaus, Furtwangler 1951.: Love Duet: Part 2

Act 2 is Tristan and Isolde’s act and some of the most beautiful love duets ever written, sustained and intermingling, never-ending (if only). Both Tristan and Isolde seek the dark, for it is in the night that not only can they be together in a physical sense (away from prying eyes) but it is here that they can begin to leave the phenomenal and grow closer to their real goal – to become “one”. The day is Wagner’s representation of the phenomenal world and night – the dark – allows him to represent the noumenal, both unknown and unknowable , reality – or at least bring the lovers closer to it. Here there is no Tristan, is no Isolde (as they both keep telling us), indeed there are no “things” only “one” - Schopenhauer’s “reality” – although altered by Wagner. Indeed, it is here, once the lights are extinguished and the sun sets, that the stage no longer needs to represent the phenomenal world, instead the staging can finally attempt represent what we have been hearing in the music all along - and this is what Fielding does.

The scene opens in a large hotel bedroom, well lit and painted white – to my eyes a little sterile, but this may just be me. It is only once Tristan arrives – after Isolde has literally “turned down the lights” that the set parts and the room vanishes . As the lovers begin their journey towards, but never reaching, “the one”, the background changes to a sun eclipsed by the moon. However it is at this stage the setting so far revealed draws perilously close to unraveling. This is entirely due to a moment of “clumsy” and far too literal interpretation of the text . Stage left and stage right enter two large cardboard cut outs of a skull and overturned goblet respectively. These are joined by a giant dagger that is lowered from the center of the stage (at one point I was worried that the “string” would break and it would swing in Mellor’s direction, knocking her unconscious. And was its rising and falling in the manner that it did supposed to be quite so phallic or was this just me?) Thankfully, these frankly “drama school” efforts leave the stage as quickly (although not quick enough) as they arrive. Fielding quickly recovers and back on form ,the lovers find themselves in an abstract forest ,wonderfully represented through the use of Wolfgang Goebbel’s very clever lighting and video projections.

Act two of course ends with Melot’s betrayal and the confrontation with King Marke, and the lovers are quickly brought back to the “light”. Once again the rather sterile bedroom that opened the act is returned and the lovers are once more back in the “real world” - if still intoxicated by their journey towards the “other”. The “fight” here is well staged, and King Marke’s guards forcing Stephen Gadd’s Kurwenal to sit in a corner of the stage helplessly is somehow more poignant than normal. For once Kurwenal actually looks helpless and despondent – although this is greatly helped by the acting talent of Gadd. Andrew Rees’ wonderfully dislikable Melot needs mentioning here also.

And so, to the final act: I had of course seen images of the final act and have to say that I was concerned. Was it “realistic” – or even just warranted - to have Tristan lie dying in a rubber dingy which itself was in a boat house? But I need not have worried, for it actually works. Again, the set design sets the mood of the piece. Once again, lighting is both subtle and fantastic.

Flagstad, Suthaus, Furtwangler 1951.: Love Duet: Part 3

Steele and Gadd make a wonderful final act and work well together. I have to admit that I was not however impressed with Fielding’s staging when the young Tristan, his mother and dead father appeared on stage as he narrates the tragedy of his childhood. However, I note that certain viewers liked this a lot. But as I have said, these things vary on “taste”. It did not “ruin” the act the way I felt the cutout skull had nearly done for me in act two, but I did find a little too “clunky” at times and just a little too “literal”.

Once again, the final fight scene here is well choreographed – better than it was on a video available on YouTube especially.

The Liebestod is performed outside of the set – the curtains now drawn while changes behind the scenes take place – and this works wonderfully.

Cast


This production was blessed with one of the finest casts seen in a long time, in one opera house and at the same time in a performance of Tristan.


Alwyn Mellor and Richard Berkeley-Steele rise to the production and more importantly Wagner’s music wonderfully . Rarely does one find two performers so able to sustain such a level of vocal power, warmth and sheer beauty throughout the genuinely demanding three acts of this monster of an opera. Berkeley-Steele’s tones are lyrical, with no hint of heldentenor bark - heroic when needed, gentle as required. And his acting? It has improved much since I last saw him, and his final act with Kurwenal is beautifully conceived And of Alywyn Mellor? I have heard her before and each time she has been good, but this time? What can one say : her vocal power, beauty and warmth have grown substantially. Her Isolde is not only a revelation due to her fine acting - which manages to make this the most human of Isoldes – but so to is her vocal performance. Rarely does one truly feel one is in the presence of an Isolde of exceptional beauty and quality but tonight was one of those nights. Indeed, based on tonight’s performance I shall attempt to catch her Brünnhilde at Longborough this month if possible – although tickets are selling fast. If you live in the UK I feel certain that you need to catch this woman’s performances now, before she is stolen – like all great talent - by the MET, Bayreuth, La Scala, etc.She is already booked for Seattle Opera Ring Cycle in 2013

In Sara Fulgoni, there is a world class Brangäne in the making. In Tristan she manages to hold her own  easily among an exceptional cast – especially when she must spend so much time on stage with the frankly stunning Mellor. Her tone is wonderfully warm and clear. This is especially so in the lower and middle registers  She is also a good actress and makes a wonderfully, if somewhat eccentric, and in the early stages of act one an occasionally comically mocking  Brangäne. It would be nice to see her perform the first act in a more "traditional" manner in the near future..

Andrew Rees’ holds his own with the rest of the cast, no easy task with an ensemble of this magnitude, and his Melot is well acted and as dislikable and “nasty” as he should be, while wonderfully menacingly sung but with fine tone.

In act two, and from stage left, enters Clive Bayley’s frail, shocked and disbelieving King Marke. The night before I had been listening to Pape’s King Marke and felt this was a mistake. The chance of anyone matching this was most unlikely and surely only disappointment would ensue? .  And the frailty of Bayley's King Marke seemed to insure this, but my word was I wrong. This was a world class performance, clear, smooth, emotional and, goddamit I will use the word, velvety. Why oh why is Clive Bayley not to be found all over youtube? Why can I not buy DVD  recordings of his performances? I can of course  buy CDs,of his performances  on Chandos in their Opera in English series but why is he  not more recorded and in original language performances?  Why he is not performing as King Marke and indeed Gurnemanz in the world’s leading opera houses is beyond me. If you see his name on a cast list anywhere, (In Wagner alone next season you can catch him as Hunding in Opera Norths ongoing Ring Cycle and as Daland in ENO's Flying Dutchman) go to the performance. Even if it is an opera you dislike, simply to hear him.

From the moment that Stephen Gadd ‘s Kurwenal first appears in act one you know you are in for treat. His performance has the best qualities of a star baritone: clarity, power, warmth and expression. His German dictation is excellent but then, perhaps this is to be expected as he has sung Melot at the ROH, Baden Baden and Glyndebourne (Where, for Wagner trivia lovers, he also played Macbeth in 2007 conducted by Glyndebourne’s future Music Director Robin Ticciati). So, he has an excellent familiarity with the text. Although, so heroic was his opening scene I did have concerns as to whether he could then undergo the change that occurs to Kurwenal in act 3, were we find his confidence subdued, full of pathos awaiting the only person who can cure Tristan. But I need not have worried. Not only did he display the vocal and emotional flexibility to carry the change with ease but the acting ability also. The relationship between him and Tristan really shone through in this act- helped greatly by Berkeley-Steele’s Tristan. On the night these two worked wonderfully together.

I can only repeat what other reviewers have said: it took a little time for English Chamber Orchestra to “get going”. I had serious concerns during the prelude which was not what it should be. Wagner of course places a tremendous strain on any orchestra and the ECO, in the confines of Grange Park, are not of the size that you might expect to provide the “lushness” required for Tristan and thus it might be understandable. However, as the first act progressed things changed and by the beginning of the second act they were playing with all of the lushness, power and emotion that you might expect in any performance of Tristan – indeed they presented themselves very well indeed. Wagner is hard work for the world’s leading  symphony orchestras and ECO managed to hold their own well. Stephen Barlow seems to have a good grasp of the music. His tempos seemed very fast to me – up there with Bohm and that is no bad thing. But I might be mistaken, as I lost track of the time – so emotionally involved did one become with the performance, time moved very quickly indeed. In no small part is this due to ECO’s power and Barlow’s expert handling of the score.

So, what can one say overall? I certainly was not expecting the performance that greeted me, given that Grange Park Opera is still so young, the size of the orchestra pit and the opera house as a whole -  and that they do not receive any Arts Council funding. It was without doubt one of those very special nights at the opera very rarely repeated. Time, as someone once said elsewhere, truly turned into space.

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Wagner, Tristan, Buddhism and San Francisco Opera's Ring Cycle

Written By The Wagnerian on Tuesday 14 June 2011 | 9:06:00 pm

As part of SF Opera's complete Ring Cycle, a series of lectures is taking place called Buddhism and Wagner's Ring Cycle which is being chaired by Paul Schofield: wagnerian, former Buddhist monk and author of Redeemer Reborn: Parsifal as the Fifth Opera of Wagner's Ring (For more details of the lecture series. starting Thursday, June 16, 2011, go here: Buddhism and Wagner's Ring Cycle

All of this reminded me of a blog on Buddhism and Wagner I read sometime ago, part of which I reproduce below and the rest of which can be found by following the link. For anyone interested further might I recommend the excellent website Monsalvat which may be "the" resource on Parsifal on the net and contains an excellent - and detailed - section on the conection between Buddhism, Wagner and Schopenhauer (here). 

One thing before proceeding - and an unfamiliar reader should be-aware of -  Buddhism does not consist, like any major religion,   of one single unified "doctrine" (despite what certain commentators would have you believe). There are as many "schools" of Buddhism are there are of Christianity. 

Oh, and a final thing: The Ring was written - as you know - over a very long period of time and (unlike Tristan or Parsifal perhaps) it contains probably as much (or as less) Buddhist/Schopenhauerian thought as it does "philosophical" anarchism and the ideas of Feuerbach - amongst much more in my opinion.

So with that in mind, first a few words from Wagner and also Monsalvat:

"This act of denying the will is the true action of the saint: that it is ultimately accomplished only in a total end to individual consciousness..." Letter from Richard Wagner to Franz Liszt, 7 June 1855

"... for which the latter atones by transforming himself into the world and by taking upon himself the immense sufferings of the world; he is redeemed in those saints who, by totally denying the will to live, pass over into nirvana, i.e. the land of non-being, as a result of their consuming sympathy for all that suffers. The Buddha was just such a saint" Letter from Richard Wagner to Franz Liszt, 7 June 1855

"...we can now see that Schopenhauer misunderstood many aspects of Buddhism. In particular, his initial identification of the Buddhist state of existence called nirvana with non-being was quite wrong and misled Schopenhauer's followers, including Richard Wagner. Nirvana is intrinsically undefinable and inexpressible, but is still a dharma and as such a "something"; so it cannot be regarded as non-being or nothingness. Schopenhauer's philosophy regarded the will (to live) as fundamental, and advocated the denial of the will-to-live as the path of deliverance. Wagner accepted these ideas and sought to express them in his dramas Tristan und Isolde, Die Sieger and Parsifal" Monsalvat

Wagner and Buddha, Tristan and Isolde
P. M. Doolan

Just over one hundred and fifty years ago Richard Wagner finishedTristan and Isolde, a work that many consider to be the greatest opera ever composed. Less well known, is the fact that Tristan and Isolde can also be considered the first great artwork of western Buddhism.

From 1849 until 1858 Wagner spent almost ten of his most creative years in Zürich, Switzerland, as a German political refugee. It was there in 1854 that he encountered Buddhism, via the work of German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer. Schopenhauer was the first mainstream European philosopher to take Hindu and Buddhist ideas seriously. His The World as Will and Idea had initially appeared nearly four decades earlier, in 1818, but had been all but ignored. According to Schopenhauer’s Buddhist inspired ideas, behind the world of phenomena is one vast, timeless will. All else, the world of perception and plurality, of space and time, objects and actions, is an illusion, the result of a process of individuation. Schopenhauer even used the Buddhist term, “Maya” to describe this illusion. What is real is will, not phenomenal representations or Maya. Most people live their lives within the veiled illusion of what is temporal and never discover reality. A blind attachment to temporal phenomena keeps the subject locked within the veil of illusion. To break free from this is possible, according to Schopenhauer, by means of detaching oneself from desire through the act of renunciation.

It is no exaggeration to say that Wagner reacted to this as if he had experienced an epiphany. His philosophical encounter with Schopenhauer and then Buddhism, changed the course of his career and, consequently, western music. Many years later Wagner himself remembered his introduction to Schopenhauer’s thought as being “decisive for the rest of my life”.
Wagner quickly threw himself into the study of the few primary works and secondary commentaries on Buddhism that were then available, reading not just in German but in French too. Within a year he wrote that the deepest truths in history were those “purest revelations of most noble humanity in the old Orient”. He followed Schopenhauer’s example and kept a statue of Buddha in his living room. In 1856 he read Eugene Burnouf’s Introduction a l’histoire du bouddhisme and, in his memoirs, he remembered that “I even distilled from it the material for a dramatic poem which has remained with me ever since.” This was, in fact, nothing less than a plan to write an opera about the Buddha, which he called The Victors. He made a prose sketch of the three acts and it was clearly a work close to his heart, a project he would never quite give up on, but which would remain incomplete at the time of his death. According to some recent commentators, however, he integrated most of the ideas that he had planned for The Victors into his final masterpiece, Parsifal. In 1883, while visiting Venice, he returned to his beloved project, The Victors, but died while writing at his desk. His final words referred to the Buddha: “There is something pleasing about the legend which tells how even the Victorious and Perfect One (the Buddha) was persuaded into admitting women followers.”

There is no doubt that Wagner believed western civilization was suffering from the disease of materialism and its virtues had been warped through the pursuit of power. He firmly believed that Eastern ideas, and in particular Buddhist thought, could save the west. On a personal level he found consolation in Buddhism as he wrote: “Only the deeply wise postulation of the transmigration of souls could show me the consoling point at which all creatures will finally reach the same level of redemption”. This belief in transmigration, an “appealing Buddhist doctrine” according to Wagner, came to influence his music. He perfected the use of leitmotivs, sequences of notes and chords that would be repeated throughout a work. This is evident in his 16-hour opera The Ring of Nibelung, but became an essential part of his last, most metaphysical work, Parsifal. By the time he came to compose this last work, he explained the use of the leitmotiv: “For the spirit of the Buddha, the previous lives of every being he meets are just as accessible as the immediate present…. I immediately recognized that this double existence could only be made clear to the feelings through the constant presence of audible musical reminiscences”. As his wife, Cosimo Wagner, reported him as saying: “Only music is capable of rendering this, the mystery of reincarnation”.
By the summer of 1857 Wagner had reached the conclusion that to achieve nirvana would involve a turning away from the world of phenomena, with its senseless trivialities, and a renunciation of desire, especially sexual desire, would bring about salvation. Desire, including sexual desire, was something of which Wagner had plenty of experience. Although married, he had long been a serial adulterer. His newest love, Mathilde Wesendonck, was young, intelligent, beautiful and married to Wagner’s multi-millionaire benefactor. It is the happy confluence of Schopenhauer’s and Buddhist ideas, together with his increasingly erotically charged relationship with Mathilde Wesendonck, and the opportunity that this gave to practice renunciation, that led Wagner to Tristan and Isolde. In the summer of 1857 Wagner commenced work on this, the greatest of operas.

 
Mathilde Wesendonck by K. F. Sohn
Although the story is a medieval, Germanic tale, Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde is infused with Buddhist ideas. The music alone is a lesson in Buddhist thought as it produces an aching desire in the listener, a yearning to satisfy this desire that is never fulfilled, but continually postponed until at last, with the final sound, discord is resolved and only silence remains. The opening chord, perhaps the most analyzed chord in music history, is known simply as “the Tristan chord”. It produces two dissonances, evoking in the listener an inevitable aching desire for resolution, but this does not quite arrive. Instead, one dissonance is resolved with the following chord, but not the other, and so one is left with the desire, the painful yearning for resolution, and a partial satisfaction that only leads to a growing, desire. And on it goes, an agonizing journey with partial fulfillment but never ending desire producing the suffering that is, according to Buddhists, a part of the fabric of the phenomenal world, until, at last, resolution is achieved, but only with the very final chord. The music itself is Buddhist philosophy, not in words, but in musical chords.


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