My history with Dmitri Tcherniakov’s production cannot be reduced to the dichotomy positive/negative. While I appreciate his serious intent of seeing each work he stages from an entirely fresh perspective – a perspective that is distinctively “foreign” to the Western European context of German/French/Italian opera – this exercise in making sense from his very own personal point-of-view often involves too much of contortion and distortion of these work’s inner structures, sometimes to the point of making things nonsensical (e.g, the Don Giovanni from Aix). At his best, his own effort in appropriation is an invitation for everyone in the audience to review his or her own rapport with the opera he or she is watching (e.g, the Parsifal at the Berlin State Opera). His 2021 staging of Der Fliegende Holländer for Bayreuth is only occasionally nonsensical, distorts a great deal of the story and leaves too many open ends – and yet it succeeds in making it approachable and immediate. I really don’t care for the “Besuch der alten Damen”-like pre-history of the young man taking revenge by force of money on the old town who did his mommy wrong. From my point of view, the staging would have sounded more powerful and scary if we didn’t know at all why this Holländer is behaving the way he did.
The original plot of The Flying Dutchman has a small-town setting and a naval backdrop. The fact that there is no ship, no sea, no tempest here surprisingly made the idea of confinement more powerful. I have to say that watching a total stranger sit at the table and behave like the evil version of the main character in Chesterton’s Manalive was far more creepy than a ghostly crew in a black ship. Actually, the choral confrontation where the team Holländer looked like mobsters felt more scary than the usual bunch of guys with pale make-up. I mean – in real life, people do get killed in shootings. However, the Schwerpunkt of this staging is the re-read of the role of Senta. Yes, she is the dictionary example of a woman created by male fantasy in the way she surrenders to a man’s project with no regard of her own welfare (and life). At the same time, she is clearly an outsider in the spaces society reserved women in the context of the plot. She doesn’t do summ und brumm at all. This very contrast is somehow (but not exactly) mirrored by the score’s dual stylistic nature – it sounds like Weber at its most conventional moments and it sounds like echt Wagner at its most daring. Senta is somehow in the middle of this stylistic shock. She interrupts the full Weberian spinning chorus with a ballad that veers toward Tannhäuser. In her duet with Holländer, she has her Agathe and her Sieglinde moments (and maybe that is why it is so difficult). Here Tcherniakov underlines this stylistic irregularity by having Senta speaks all her Agathe-esque lines in an ironic tone. At some point, the trick becomes predictable. After a while, she sounds like a Jennifer Lawrence character, heavily underlining her text, rolling her eyes and acting kooky. And then there is the moment when she seems to fall into the Holländer’s mobster stravaganza spiel. That is a key turning point in this staging, which needed a bit more clarity. I had to use my own Tcherniakov-like appropriation to get through this. Here there is no chemistry between the Holländer and Senta. They’re clearly not interested in each other – she just sees that he is going to tear everything apart and THAT is something she’s interested at.
The role a woman plays in a story seems more relevant when we’re watching the first woman conductor in Bayreuth, Oksana Lyniv. I had seen Ms. Lyniv only once – Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor at the Bavarian State Opera. It is not the world’s most complex score, and yet one could see that being a kapellmeister is not her thing. Some conductors complain of how difficult it is to adapt to the peculiar acoustics of the Festspielhaus. That did not seem to be a problem to Ms. Lyniv – she elicited from the orchestral hallmark big and rich orchestral sonorities, did not seem keen on classically filigree articulation, but rather went for Karajan-like smooth finish without indulging in “philosophical” tempo. The performance moved forward boldly and excitingly. To my ears, it only lacked some affection in the more lyrical passages. The Senta/Holländer duet, for instance, could have done with a little bit more time for emotions to set in. Anyway, she clearly knows what she wants and knows how to make it happen. And the second part is what makes a great conductor. And she has it. The standing ovation showed it.
When I was about to see Elisabeth Teige as Sieglinde in Berlin, a friend had told me how great she had been in an earlier performance. Unfortunately, she was not at her best the day I saw her. She sang well, but it was hardly a life-changing experience. This evening, she was in top form. It is a unsingable role and she took some time to warm. First, there were some fluttery and off-focus moments, but her performance gained steadily in strength. Once at her optimal level, she offered rich, warm, big sounds, homogeneous throughout her range. She goes for broke in her high notes – and fortunately she is one of those singers who sounds even more interesting when challenging her limits. To be honest, she is the best Senta I have ever seen. To be honest again, I have seen no legendary singer in the role. Yet judging from recordings, no singer can be taken as a full reference in it. It is an ungrateful role – and Rysanek, Nilsson, Varnay, Jones, Stemme, Behrens struggle at some point. (To my taste, Varady in the video from Munich is the most beautifully sung Senta in recordings). I saw Thomas J. Meyer as the Holländer in Tokyo a couple of years ago. He has always been a singer who gave his 100% and didn’t spare himself, with evident costs to his vocal production. I was a bit wary of what I would hear, but – considering his present vocal state – he sang well. The voice now is basically throaty and rattles a bit, and his candle still burns from both ends. So, it was dark-toned, full-force singing that gained in intensity in the more outspoken passages, but never in volume or projection. He has the ideal personality and presence for this staging – I can’t imagine anyone else doing this better than him in terms of acting. It was ideally larger-than-life and scary enough. Eric Cutler was better cast as Eric as he was as the Kaiser in Frau ohne Schatten. He offered a less passive than usual account of the role, quite Italianate in approach (if not in sound). Attilio Glaser – who is singing Lohengrin in Berlin this season – has a pleasant tonal quality, more velvet than steel, and offered a convincing account of the role of the Steuermann. Last but not least, Georg Zeppenfeld left nothing to be desired as Daland. It is a perfect role for his voice and personality.
I HEAR VOICES 
Only heard the opening night bdcst (6 August) of this, a very good performance (but not as wonderful as what you describe above) – IMO better cast than last year. Zeppenfeld’s Daland sounded younger than Mayer’s wounded Holländer, but that is an acceptable possibility, particularly in this staging. Heard Tiege’s Senta before, in Bergen (2018) and liked it very much then. She has a bright tone that goes so well in this role. Last year’s Senta, Grigorian, to my ears had a darker, more covered tone but lacked Tiege’s thrusting, golden radiance.
Hi, Jerold! To be honest, I didn’t find it wonderful – I’d rather hear a more flexible beat and more precise articulation. And definitely more feeling. But it was top quality, even if not 100% to my taste. “Golden radiance” – that’s a perfect way to describe Teige’s singing that evening.