Wagner, Tristan und Isolde: Soloists, Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich, Zubin Mehta, 19.11.2005 (JPr)
The National Theatre, home of the Bayerische Staatsoper is definitely a thing of beauty – five
circles, all faux-marble columns and Grecian friezes,
Angels, reds, blues and ivory, a huge central
chandelier, electric candles, chairs with perfect
sightlines rather than ‘seats’. Spotlessly clean
– camp, glorious and very un- Germanic! Yet it
seemed so very much smaller than my only previous
visit in 1980 – memory as we know plays funny
tricks – that time also for Tristan in I guess what could have been
the previous production to the current one. All
I remember from that was a seemingly endless field
of poppies that Tristan negotiated on his way
to Isolde at the start of Act II.
Back in Munich on 19 November it was to see an exceptionally
well cast Tristan
und Isolde in Peter Konwitschny’s
1998 production under the distinguished baton
of the Bayerische Staatsoper’s Musical Director Zubin Mehta. The opera began
with a lingering and emotionally charged Prelude
and it was a highlight of Act I that the high
spots were the moments of passion rather than
the more conversational ones. What we see is a
stage within a stage on stage – you know what
I mean? There was a false proscenium and a red
curtain that mimicked the red National Theatre
one except for some abstract geometric shapes.
A revolving blue cyclorama gives the impression
of travel, as well as sea and sky. The rest is
seemingly a white cartoon cut-out of a ship and
Isolde and Brangäne are on the sun deck on
yellow striped loungers.
The Young Sailor is serving drinks. Isolde (Waltraud
Meier) is in her bridal gown with poppies on her
sleeves and Brangäne (Petra Lang) is in a
fetching blue gown with turquoise bodice and has
long blond tresses. Sets and costumes are by Johannes
Leiacker. The programme
compares the sketches of the current costumes
with those of the first performance of this opera
in Munich in 1865 and an obvious attempt has been
made to embrace the richness and opulence of that
clothing.
When Tristan (Christian Franz) first becomes involved
the set moves sideways to reveal his cabin; here
he is seen tidying himself up before he is interrupted
by Brangäne. Kurwenal (Wolfgang Brendel)
has the usual gamekeeper look of a faithful retainer.
Brangäne is then pawed at by the
crew leering in through the windows to the cabin
before escaping back to Isolde. What is novel
in this Act is the scene when atonement is drunk.
It is revealed that Isolde cannot wait to have
Tristan in her arms and quickly strips off her
outer bridal gown before removing Tristan’s robe
and breastplate. Tristan is up against Isolde
on the railings for ‘Tristan’s Ehre’
well before the drink has been drunk. Tristan
has been showing heroic resistance to Isolde’s
advances but then confusion reigns – everyone
has the wrong clothes, cannot get the right one
on and cannot be kept apart without force on the
part of Kurwenal and Brangäne. It is at these moments
that Zubin Mehta’s interpretation is at its best
– Christian Franz is a forceful but intelligent
singer, equally matched by Petra Lang’s Brangäne – one day to be Isolde
herself no doubt. In this Act it is Waltraud
Meier who disappoints – whilst still pure operatic
Viagra as a stage animal – the edge seems to have
been lost from the top of her voice (of course
I know she is really a mezzo) and this made her
Act I a little less exciting for me than I remember
her in the past. Of course it might just have
been an off-night.
There was an eclipse of sorts at the end of Act I
which then continues symbolically at the start
of Act II. The setting is a primitive, almost
childlike, depiction of tree trunks, canopy, sky
and eclipsed moon. There is something of a ‘torch’
on the side of the stage that Isolde throws aside
to extinguish the light for Tristan to arrive.
As the lights go out the mass of spotlights on
their gantry is lowered towards the stage representing,
I think, stars.
Mehta’s passionate throbbing impulse to
the entry ensured the opening of the Act and later
the ‘Love Duet’ often scales the peaks of the
required ecstasy. Tristan arrives bringing his
own love couch with him – yellow and flower patterned
– the ‘lovers’ make use of this on and off during
the Act. Petra Lang is now on imperious form as
Brangäne and sings an impassioned ‘Einsam
wachend in der
Nacht’ on stage as she lights six small candles to accompany
the two that Tristan and Isolde held. As the couple’s
passion reaches a climax Christian Franz still
has his heart in it more than Waltraud Meier as his cloak and her bridal dress are removed
and left symbolically on their settee and they
both come out of the proscenium on the stage dressed
in black to the stage apron at the front. A richly
beige robed King Marke, his retinue and Melot
in green Bavarian garb enter. The King clearly
cannot understand why he has been betrayed and
this is most movingly portrayed by Jan-Hendrik
Rootering who ends up a broken man clutching the
hands of Tristan and Isolde to be returned to
couch to sit impassively for the remainder of
the Act. Tristan is torn between his love of Isolde
and his duty to the King he has wronged. Realising
the sacrifice he must make he impales himself
on Melot’s dagger.
This conclusion to Act II was as moving as I can ever
remember mainly because of Christian Franz’s tireless,
clarion-like (yet surprisingly sensitive at times)
Tristan and the generally fine dramatic ensemble
(whether singing or just reacting) all underpinned
by that expressive conducting of Mehta as well
as the excellent playing (even the horns were
all power yet delicate as well) of the Bayerische
Staatsorchester.
Act III surprised me as I expected to find Tristan
reclining on that same chaise
longue from Act II. But no, in fact what we had was Tristan’s
room at a sanatorium where he is ‘recovering’
from wounds, both mental and physical. Random
images are projected as intermittent slides on
one wall, there is a light, a radiator beneath a window, and a
chair and a door. Tristan’s rants are treated
as just the ravings of a mind in disarray and
Christian Franz, splendid enough already, comes
into his own ably supported by a more youthful
and eloquently sung than usual Kurwenal of Wolfgang
Brendel. The breastplate is still there as it
has been with Tristan throughout and shaving seems
to as important to him as in Act I, here he tries
to make himself presentable for Isolde’s
arrival whether imaginary or real. What is still
noticeable is how much the tenor still needs a
drink to get through this Act and there were shades
again of these similar antics in his recent concert
Tristan
at the Edinburgh Festival I reviewed for this
website. Incorporated into the production to illustrate
‘der furchtbarer
Trank’ he was actually
just lubricating his throat.
Most effective was the ‘performance’ of ‘Die alte Wiese’ Tristan’s cor
anglais tune by two players on the front apron
of the stage. Kurwenal carries Isolde in as Tristan
expires from his delirium. From this point on
Waltraud Meier’s Isolde can begin to be forgiven for pacing
herself earlier as from her entry in Act III she
is magnificent and so moving in both her acting
and singing as she dies from a broken heart. Before
Tristan and Isolde unite in spirit, Melot, Marke
and his entourage batter their way into the room
to meet resistance from Kurwenal and his men –
there is a wholesale slaughter and bodies litter
the stage for the King’s very sad ‘Todt denn Alles!’ Brangäne forces her way in through
the window and her confession confirms Petra Lang
as possibly more than just a Brangäne.
Tristan resurrects and removes Isolde’s
gown and in black both stand before the false
proscenium as the second curtain closes on Marke
and Brangäne. Meier’s Liebestod is committed, experienced and every word in every
phrase nuanced to wring maximum emotion from the
music. This just about sums up the whole evening
in the company of this exceptional cast, orchestra
and conductor. It was totally unsubtle in its
subtleties but none the worst for that. Only then
did the producer have a brainstorm as he pandered
to those in the corporate seats in the National
Theatre in Munich (yes they have them there as
well) as in a final tableaux the curtains open
to show King Marke and Brangäne in mourning beside two
coffins. Only those who were overheard reading
each other the libretto before each Act began
may have been among those who did not realise
Tristan and Isolde were both dead and by this
point only the most hard-hearted would not already
have had a tear in their eye. As the proper curtain
finally closed the silence was deafening until
the audience stabilised their wrought emotions
and gave all those involved in this performance
the prolonged ovation that was still going on
as I made my way out after several minutes into
the chilly Munich air.
2005 is the 25th anniversary of my first
Tristan
und Isolde at Covent Garden with Berit
Lindholm and Jon Vickers
(who I never ever warmed to) … the conductor then
as for this unmissable event was Zubin Mehta. Fog at Stansted and snow in Munich had been overcome and this Wagner
will stay in my memory for at least another 25
years if I am spared.
© Jim Pritchard
