The last scene of Götz Friedrich’s Ring for the Deutsche Oper Berlin showed the gods covered in sheets like pieces of old furniture. That’s exactly how it began too. I saw its last run and was curious about what Stefan Herheim would do in his new production for the opera house in Charlottenburg. While Friedrich seemed to believe that there is a continuous cycle of decadence and rebirth of myth, Herheim’s view is that the great story of society is about movement; people are always in transit and that’s why there constantly are collisions, beginnings and ends.
In his staging, the Rhine is just a metaphor for that. His Rheingold start with a lit auditorium, an empty stage, migrants with suitcases staring at us. And there is a piano – when a key is pressed then the “story” begins. This is one of those stagings that don’t try to pretend that there is a fourth wall. The truth about it is the fact that it is being staged. That is not an original idea – and almost everything in this Rhinegold is reshuffled and reheated, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. So, here nature and paradise are the same thing and everybody strips to their underwear to show us that and there’s free love galore (i.e., sex). Alberich is some kind of clown who – for some reason – is not accepted by those people who accept everything and judge nobody. My own take is that he wanted love as in “possessing someone”: he wants to _catch_ one of the Rhinemaiden. And that is why he is rejected and then he rejects love itself. His power is possessing before anyone else, accumulating and not sharing.
As in many other stagings, the Alberich/Wotan identity is evident (Wotan is basically upping Alberich’s game, for instance as he is willing to renounce Freia for the sake of the Walhalla). The moment when this dichotomy is clearer is in the Nibelheim scene: Alberich doesn’t transform himself in a dragon, but merely opens his zipper and shows his “Wurm” . He doesn’t morph into a frog either – he acts as if he were trying and then laughs. Wotan and Loge try to overwhelm him, but they can’t, for Alberich has the ring. This is actually well observed – theoretically he has the supreme power. And he uses it here, by getting the three of them to the gods’ world. It is there that he is actually tricked into negotiating – and that’s when he looses the ring.
The piano is an omnipresent scenic element. What transforms nature in society is a story – and the person who tells it is an important instrument of power. Here we see Mime characterized as Wagner. He is an artist and he creates two amazing masterpieces – the ring and the Tarnhelm. This evening, he also had the score of Das Rheingold and, once it is there, Wotan, Alberich et al never miss an opportunity to take a look at it to know what happens next. Is it a silly joke? Yep. Mel Brooks uses it in Spaceballs when a VCR tape of… Spaceballs appears and they decide to check what is going to happen.
Why am I mentioning Mel Brooks? Because Mr. Herheim has a fondness for gags. It has made his Lohengrin for the Lindenoper a bit hard to digest, for instance. Here there’s so much of it that it almost felt as if we were watching Oscar Strauss’s Die lustige Nibelungen. Yet it was well directed, nobody can deny it. All singers had perfect timing, the blocking was efficient, everybody was comfortable with what they had to do. At first, the staging was so simplistic that one couldn’t help thinking “money was over”, but then you realize that the handling of the huge piece of white fabric used to represent water, mountains, clouds, fire, even a tree was complex and perfectly executed. At times one wished for something a little bit more spectacular and unique – but again this works. Even when you read what director and Dramaturg say in the libretto and find it all over the place and constructed, this works as a scenic experience. And that’s the whole point of a staging.
In terms of conducting, I have to say that General Music director Donald Runnicles seemed to be on the same wavelength: there was nothing original in his conducting , but it worked for these circumstances. First, the empty stage poses a challenge for singers. One could feel their voices getting lost on stage rather than being conveyed by the sets into the auditorium. So, no, nobody sounded like having a Wagnerian voice, even those who do have tge pipes for it. Mr. Runnicles (or Sir Donald, if you are a subject of the Queen) kept it soft textured in an almost Festspielhaus style, and yet the sound was rich, well-balanced and clearly articulated. Only a world-class Wagnerian orchestra could do something like that. Bravi. Has the musical performances changed my life, wowed my world, opened new possibilities? No, no, no. But it worked. And, all considered, this is something to be appreciative of.
I can’t say if this is pandemics-related, but this was largely an ensemble cast. For instance, Derek Walton’s Wotan. I knew this Australian bass baritone from his Klingsors in Bayreuth. It’s a Wagnerian-lite voice, noble in tone and keen on James Morris-style legato, but unvaried and short in projection in its higher reaches. It lacks presence and one rarely believes he is the honcho in this story, but again the sound is apt and he sings well. I don’t understand why Marcus Brück was cast as Alberich – I would think of him rather as a baritone and not a dramatic one. As it was, everything seemed on the low side for his voice and his attempt to beef it up predictably tired him. When he reached the curse scene, he was on the last bar of his battery. And I have memories of Tomasz Konieczny in his prime in this role in this very theatre. Replacing an indisposed Thomas Blondelle, Matthias Klink was a very persuasive Loge. Although the Spielleiterin acted the part. I couldn’t help looking at Mr. Klink, who had his own acting to boost his vocal interpretation. It joins the best qualities of a Spieltenor and a lyric tenor – even with the usual distortions, the tonal quality in itself is very pleasant. The giants were well contrasted – Tobias Kehrer a warm-toned, big-voiced Fafner and Andrew Harris a bit harder in tone and firm in emission as Fasolt.
In spite of a monochrome voice. Annika Schlicht proved to be a convincing Fricka in her cleanliness of line and clarity of diction. A last minute replacement, Scottish mezzo Beth Taylor sang Erda for the first time in her career, yet you wouldn’t notice it. The low notes are solid, the phrasing is smooth, she was more than up to the task.
I HEAR VOICES 
Transit & migration – have seen it used twice at least twice over the last couple of years – once in a Manon Lescaut and another time in a Meistersinger. It’s a viable concept – the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, as the old saying goes.