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The Saviour Knight’s Mission among the Flemish Moths Bayreuth
Festspielhaus
08/01/2025 - & August 4*, 6, 9, 2025
Richard Wagner : Lohengrin
Mika Kares*/Andreas Bauer Kanabas (Heinrich der Vogler), Piotr Beczala (Lohengrin), Elza van den Heever (Elsa von Brabant), Olafur Sigardurson (Friedrich von Telramund), Miina‑Liisa Värelä (Ortrud), Michael Kupfer-Radecky (Der Heerrufer des Königs), Martin Koch (1. Edler), Ya‑Chung Huang*/Gideon Poppe (2. Edler), Felix Pacher (3. Edler), Markus Suihkonen (4. Edler)
Chor der Bayreuther Festspiele, Thomas Eitler‑de Lint (Chorus master), Orchester der Bayreuther Festspiele, Christian Thielemann (Conductor)
Yuval Sharon (Stage director), Neo Rauch, Rosa Loy (Sets & Costumes), Reinhard Traub (Lighting)
P. Beczala (© Enrico Nawrath)
Surely one of the most idiotic Lohengrin productions in history, Yuval Sharon’s reimagining looked like low‑budget science fiction schlock. Even the technical effects were on the primitive side. Here, the inhabitants of Brabant, including Elsa, are insects, possibly a variety of moths. The question is, of course, why? Who thought the story of Lohengrin would be particularly to be performed by hexapod invertebrates? We’ll never know. Perhaps the set and costume designers’ affinity for winged creatures? If so, swans would have done nicely.
An attribute of insects that may be fitting is that several species, like bees and ants, organize in hives, where they are programmed to obediently execute their tasks. But the populace in Lohengrin are no more obedient than in other operas. Elsa, especially in this staging, seems depressive and utterly gutless. In the plot, it’s true that she remains silent in response to Telramund’s accusation of having killed her own brother. In Sharon’s staging, she seems miserable from beginning to end, even during her duets with Lohengrin. Still, these are not sufficient arguments for transforming the Flemish into insects. Insects are often led by a queen, but this is certainly not the case here, where the female insects are submissive. Again, this staging was so ludicrous I can’t even believe I’m writing these words. But bear with me as I continue.
The insects of Brabant seem to feed on electricity. They have a huge generator through which Lohengrin arrives – without the usual swan – to champion the wrongly accused Elsa. The adult males of the species have huge wings, the females much smaller ones, reminiscent of fairies. When the accuser Telramund and Lohengrin go to battle in an “ordeal by combat”, they are elevated above the ground to perform a short air duel. Telarmund loses a wing.
Act II opens to much better scenery, more appropriate to Wagner’s medieval legend. No insects, blue or otherwise, were present. Even Ortrud has clipped her own wings, possibly in solidarity with her husband. The sets were a painting of light blue cloudy skies and dark blue vegetation. When Elsa appeared in a stone tower, the whole scene evoked 16th century Puritan New England. Director Sharon and his set and costume designers channeled the Lowlands and Calvinism, despite the fact that Brabant is in Belgium and not the neighbouring Netherlands, and that it has always been staunchly Catholic. Moreover, Lohengrin takes place in the early Middle Ages, several centuries before the reformation.
Reinhard Traub’s lighting for that scene was effective, suitably evocative and menacing. At the end, when Telramund suddenly appears to Ortrud, he looked like a maleficent rodent peeking out of the shrubs, which was dramatically effective.
Alas, in the second part of Act II, we return to the mysterious world of insects. Despite serious efforts at understanding the mores of that species, nothing was comprehensible. In the preparation of Elsa’s wedding, the young females were throwing flower petals. As each pair of females dropped the petals, two dour males came out in succession to claim them. It seemed like a mating ritual in a patriarchal society. Again, I suspect Sharon was thinking of Puritanism and Calvinism a few centuries later. But even if the epoch had been right, what insight might such idiocy have brought to the story?
Act III opens to a bedroom typical of a budget motel room with a weird contraption that looks like a power pole, a depressing setting for the opera’s most glorious moment, but these are insects after all. Telramund’s attack on the “roach motel” was truly underwhelming. He just fell to the ground without confronting Lohengrin. (Might Lohengrin have used insecticide?) In the third act’s final scene, when Elsa asks the forbidden question, Lohengrin reveals his name and identity and departs for good, but again there is no swan. He leaves Elsa a magic energy box which emits light (mercifully not in the libretto). Out of thin air, Elsa’s enchanted brother appears as – what else? – a green gnome. In the opera, he’d been enchanted by Ortrud into a swan. For some unknown reason, the gnome causes the insect citizens of Brabant to fall unconscious or dead. The green gnome and the magic box are the “green” solution to the Flemish moths’ energy problem. Truly impressive! (Not.)
In her Bayreuth debut, South African Elza van den Heever was not initially at ease, but who would be, dressed as a bug, intimidated by the momentous occasion. However, she was at her usual best, vocally luminous and dramatically dignified. Her portrayal of Elsa as suffering from severe depression throughout the opera is almost certainly the director’s and not her own.
Finnish dramatic soprano Miina-Liisa Värelä, admired as an effectively moving Leonora in Fidelio in Toronto, initially portrayed Ortrud in a dull fashion, a generic evil woman. Muddled diction in Act I aggravated the issue. This is a pity, as the role offers many possibilities, even considering the monumentally misguided staging. Nonetheless, her top range was secure, but the role calls for more than impressive high notes. Other than being dressed as a bug, though of a darker hue, her dress and huge handbag in Act I made her look like a bag lady. When costumes are this mad, artists ought to have the right to refuse them. Fortunately, she was at her best at the opening of Act II, where she gave Lady Macbeth a run for her money. Her sweet-talking of Eva was also most effective.
The weakest singer was probably Olafur Sigurdarson, the mean baritone in several Wagnerian productions. Effective as a conniving Alberich in Das Rheingold, Die Walküre and Siegfried a few days earlier, his Telramund, a more substantial role, was rather bland. Moreover, his diction was not the best, especially in Act I. At the opening of Act II he was transformed by the solemnity of this dramatic scene. His diction vastly improved and his intensity grew more palpable.
In contrast, Finnish bass Mika Kares was a regal Heinrich der Vogler, with irreproachable diction and stage presence. Michael Kupfer-Radecky, whose timbre was beautiful in Bayreuth’s kinder version of Tannhäuser had great diction, but sounded hoarse at times as the Herald. The four noblemen, Martin Koch, Ya‑Chung Huang, Felix Pacher and Markus Suihkonen, all in decent voice, did their best to sound as noble, despite being reduced to arthropods.
Polish tenor Piotr Beczala was the uncontested star of the performance, oozing charisma and aristocratic grace as the saviour knight Lohengrin. He’s a veteran of this production, having starred in its 2018 and 2019 incarnations. His return was much‑awaited by his many enthusiastic fans who constituted an important contingent of the performance I attended.
Lohengrin, sung with almost Italianate delicacy, seems to particularly suit the Polish tenor. Though his diction was good, he had a tendency to exaggerate the vowels, especially the As, distorting the language’s cadence, a forgivable sin, given the beauty of his voice.
This performance marked Christian Thielemann’s return to Bayreuth after an absence of several years. A palpable excitement was felt prior to the performance and during the two intermissions. In my line of sight, I could not spot a single empty seat, whereas there were a few in the horizon at previous shows. Thielemann’s magic operated from the first notes in the opera’s prelude; a rich, heavenly yet delicate sound. The orchestral opening of the second act was truly gorgeous, lush and evocative. Even in the opera’s dramatic moments, the Orchester der Bayreuther Festspiele played with balance, letting the voices soar above it.
Despite being dressed as insects, the Chor der Bayreuther Festspiele sang like angels. Though upon his hiring, new chorus master Thomas Eitler‑de Lint decided to retire a large portion of the ensemble as well as hire additional new voices, the prestigious choir has retained its same trademark impressive sound.
Amazingly, much of the public seemed to enjoy this production in comparison to other stagings deemed still more outrageous. I asked the enthusiastic woman seated next to me why she enjoyed the performance. Her answer was “Piotr Beczala and the relaxing blue colour of the sets and costumes.” Production teams take notice: an idiotic production can be forgiven – if the colour is right.
Ossama el Naggar
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