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The start of a cinematic Ring at La Scala Milano
Teatro alla Scala
10/28/2024 - & October 31, November 3, 5, 7, 10, 2024
Richard Wagner: Das Rheingold
Michael Volle (Wotan), Norbert Ernst (Loge), Andrè Schuen (Donner), Siyabonga Maqungo (Froh), Jongmin Park (Fasolt), Ain Anger (Fafner), Olafur Sigurdarson (Alberich), Wolfgang Ablinger-Sperrhacke (Mime), Okka von der Damerau (Fricka), Olga Bezsmertna (Freia), Christa Mayer (Erda), Andrea Carroll (Woglinde), Svetlina Stoyanova (Wellgunde), Virginie Verrez (Flosshilde), Coro di Voci Bianchi dell’Accademia Teatro alla Scala
Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala, Simone Young*/Alexander Soddy (conductor)
David McVicar (Stage Director, Sets), Hannah Postlethwaite (Sets), Emma Kingsbury (Costumes), David Finn (Lighting), Katy Tucker (Videography), Gareth Mole (Choreography), David Greeves (Martial arts, Circus performance)
M. Volle, O. Sigurdarson, N. Ernst
(© Brescia e Amisano/Teatro alla Scala)
There was considerable excitement in the air at La Scala preceding the performance of the first installment of a new Ring Cycle. Though there are other Ring cycles happening the world over at any given moment, more than in any other period since its creation, this one is at the world’s premiere opera house, not known for Wagnerian tradition. Its previous Ring took place a decade ago under the baton of Daniel Barenboim.
There was also disappointment in the air, as this Ring was supposed to be Christian Thielemann’s, but today’s leading Wagner conductor had cancelled, allegedly for health reasons. His decision may have involved uncertainty after the venerable opera house forced Dominique Meyer’s retirement following an age regulation passed by the Italian government. Indeed, one wonders how anyone may uphold Meyer’s impressive legacy. Others were curious about the staging by Scotsman David McVicar, a conventional choice compared to more adventurous directors. The result was not disappointing though it was predictably McVicar: visually appealing, straightforward and without clutter. This suits the majority of opera goers who’ve recently endured a global-warming-inspired Parsifal, an octopus Rusalka, Salome in a brothel, and La bohème on a spaceship.
Adventure films in exotic locations such as the Indiana Jones franchise seems to have been the inspiration for the sets. A high degree of exoticism marked this production: native tribal imagery and sets and costumes informed by Africa, Asia and South America (rather than Europe) are favoured. This is in line with today’s less Eurocentric worldview, even for the Norse-mythology-inspired Der Ring des Nibelungen. It’s a legitimate viewpoint that all fairy tale traditions are interrelated. Renewed visuals inspired by various cultures are welcome.
The opening scene augured well: the Rhine‑maidens, richly‑clothed and sporting stylized haircuts evocative of Audrey Beardsley (1872‑1898) and Arthur Rackham (1867‑1939), swam amid three huge severed hands. In a homoerotic representation, a male dancer, symbolizing the Rhine‑maidens’ guarded gold, was accosted by the scheming Alberich who stole it by snatching the semi‑nude dancer’s mask. Masks figured heavily in this production. When Fasolt and Fafner take away Freia, they removed the gods’ masks, possibly a metaphor for power, worn by the Gods.
Four dancer/acrobats, dressed as Buddhist monks, acted as servants to giants Fasolt and Fafner, moving the gold exacted from Wotan. The two giants were indeed quite tall – over four metres – thanks to stilts in addition to gigantic arms and mask attachments that made them look like folkloric creations from the South Pacific. In other scenes, two of the dancers stood behind Loge and moved their arms in sync with him, emulating a Hindu deity. The Gods, male and female, were dressed in Elizabethan robes. Fricka reassembled Elisabetta in Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda or Roberto Devereux. Wotan’s dress was neutral, while sly Loge’s dress was decidedly more feminine. It was not clear what the androgyny of the male Gods signified, or if it was intended to make a striking visual effect. In this, it succeeded.
Nibelheim’s gate was a huge golden head, reminiscent of Skull Island in the King Kong film, The House on Skull Mountain (1974) and other horror films. Alberich’s disappearance and transformation was skillfully executed. The initial transformation into a snake evoked the skeleton of a slithering Chinese dragon. The Nibelungen were interpreted by short extras, likely children from the Coro di Voci Bianchi dell’Accademia Teatro alla Scala (as they are credited, though they do not sing.) They were dressed in gowns that covered their faces, a clin d’œil to futuristic sci‑fi.
No attempt was made to show the passage of Wotan and Loge to and from Nibelheim. A mere canvas was drawn down during their voyage. This was a visually impressive production that did not interfere with the plot. Having seen several productions of Das Rheingold, this is one of few a newcomer could easily follow and hope to comprehend. The androgyny of the Gods and the exotic inspirations may have been an attempt to be au courant with societal trends.
At the opera’s end, the gods’ ascent to Walhalla was slow and belabored, despite Freia (goddess of youth and beauty) being restored to them. This image showed the gods at their most vulnerable and presaged hard times. Although I welcome a comprehensible narration free of weird concepts that have plagued past stagings, one wished for the Tetralogy’s central theme of Love and Power to be more central. Likely this will be the case for future installments.
Australian conductor Simone Young, though somewhat tepid, was up for the task. The opening music was less luxurious than one would have hoped for in such a prestigious theatre, but the Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala were brilliant after the first two scenes. Throughout the performance, Young made sure the orchestra did not obscure the singers, but gave them free reign in the orchestral passages.
In contrast to Young’s neutral conducting and McVicar’s conventional staging, the singing was magnificent. The main roles, likely chosen by original conductor Thielemann, were some of the best available. The cast was dominated by Michael Volle, a leading Wagnerian baritone, recently admired in Gurrelieder at La Scala and in Der fliegende Holländer in Dresden and Düsseldorf. His Wotan had natural authority, and thanks to his superb phrasing and acting, he perfectly conveyed Wotan’s patrician rank.
The second most remarkable member was Austrian tenor Norbert Ernst, whose Loge was more spirited than most, especially in this staging, where his feminine attributes were exaggerated. For some, McVicar’s idea of emphasizing Loge’s femininity is misogynistic, as it insinuates that craftiness is a feminine trait. Mercifully, Ernst avoided excess in his phrasing.
South Korean bass Jongmin Park and Estonian bass Ain Anger were especially effective as giants Fasolt and Fafner, easily delineating their different characters through their voices (as the contraption to make them giants afforded minimal visibility of their faces or physical acting). Icelandic baritone Olafur Sigurdson impressed as Alberich. He seemed to revel in the character’s cruelty, whether harassing the Rhine‑maidens or surveilling the Nibelungen. His reprehensible character was brought into focus when he realized he was outsmarted by Wotan and Loge.
Ukrainian lyric soprano Olga Bezsmertna, admired last season as Rusalka at La Scala, was a luminous Freia. Her beautiful and youthful voice was a perfect fit. German mezzo Okka von der Damerau, recently heard in Gurrelieder at La Scala, was an authoritative Fricka. Her creamy mezzo contrasted pleasantly with Bezsmertna’s bright soprano.
The rest of the cast were more than adequate, though a veteran Erda, goddess of the Earth, German mezzo Christa Mayer failed to convince. Her appearance as a white‑haired witch did not help. Austrian tenor Wolfgang Ablinger-Sperrhacke brilliantly conveyed Mime’s terror of his bullying brother, Alberich. South African tenor Siyabonga Maqunqo’s timber was too bright for Froh. Andrè Schuen, the only Italian in the cast, impressed with his diction, as well as his warm and expressive baritone, as Donner. Despite being sartorially Elizabethan, he looked and acted like the virile god of Thunder.
At the opera’s end, considerable applause mixed with discernible boos that I believe were unwarranted. The most likely targets were Simone Young’s conducting, masterfully competent but not exceptional, and David McVicar’s staging, visually appealing but not innovative or provocative. In the case of those unhappy with the conductor, it was likely a case of missing Christian Thielemann, understandable but unfair. In the case of the staging, it’s less understandable. For once, here was a staging that recounted a fairy tale in a visually appealing and narratively understandable fashion. Most of all, it avoided introducing an agenda alien to the story. With the overwhelming majority of La Scala’s public, I impatiently await the next installments of the Ring.
Ossama el Naggar
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