What took place on stage was directed clearly and unfussily. Contained within this production were what seemed to be hommages to the famous Goodall Ring and the work of Harry Kupfer. From the Blatchley/Byam Shaw Sadler’s Wells/Coliseum cycle we have the central disc added to lighting effects and costumes from various Kupfer stagings. This later recycling also included a virtual impersonation of the almost incomparable Graham Clark-as-Loge given by Peter Bronder, here also red coated and spiky-haired. Mr. Bronder  twinkled and skipped about just like Graham Clark and was equally acrobatic as he clambered up and down the sets of wall bars that helped frame the sides of the stage in Kjell Torriset’s designs. To Mr Bronder’s lasting credit his use of irony and pure vocal and acting ability might even put him  in a position to surpass his great predecessor.

When the Rhine daughters first appeared there were also three characters in black ranged across the front of the stage. I thought at first they were female Health & Safety operatives because the Rhine daughters, who sang collectively better than individually, also climbed up and down the gym bars and the mysterious others could have been there in case they fell off. It soon became obvious that they were there as refugees from the Japanese Kabuki theatre busying themselves moving the singers around and getting themselves involved in the goings on though in essence remaining unseen by the leading characters. Hidden under a black cloth Alberich tries to clamber over them to get to his Rhine daughter of choice,  and hidden again by the cloth the Kabuki players manipulate a seemingly transparent skull-like Tarnhelm when Alberich ‘transforms’ himself and grows tall into a ‘dragon’. Elsewhere they shone a light onto the singers or just sat about watching attentively from disparate vantage points around the stage.

The stolen ‘gold’   is a piece of red-gold cloth which Alberich later conceals in a Richard III-like hump and which is used as a shroud to conceal Freia. Not much use is made at all of a spear that looks like (and probably is) a long Perspex tube - a Star Wars light sabre without the light! Longborough seems in need of a dramaturge (I am available!) as this ‘spear’ has to be used more decisively at Wotan’s ‘Halt, du Wilder! Nichts durch Gewalt!’ when in this production a hand is meekly trust out (and perhaps a bar too late, at that). Similarly flunked moments occur at the start of Scene Two when Wotan rouses from his slumber and though supposed to be staring at the ‘sacred hall of the gods’  Phillip Joll merely looked blankly out into the sell-out audience. We should be made to believe in what he is really doing. Equally, the unbinding of Alberich at ‘Bind ihn los!’ is all there in the music, as is the Sword motif at ‘So grüss ich die Burg’ before the entry in Valhalla, and at moments like these there is no shame in showing on the stage what the music is already telling those who know their Wagner. Considering Anthony Negus's  immense Wagnerian knowledge  in the pit,  I am surprised Alan Privett was allowed to get away with these lapses.

But these are only minor quibbles in an otherwise totally engrossing evening as the  singing easily surpassed that of  any previous Longborough Wagner. I am ready to be shot down of course, but there were a few weaker links who didn’t perhaps deserve to be along for the ride; Colette McGahon’s Fricka has seen better days, as has John Milne’s Fasolt.  Kate Radmilovic’s Freia grated on the ear and Sani Muliaumaseali’i’s frizzy-haired Froh seemed to forget that the Joseph auditions are over:   he threw himself - technicolour dreamcoat and all-  into his concluding ‘Zur Burg fürht die Brücke’ but his voice is as yet rather underdeveloped. Once again,  none of this   mattered too much as we  could fall back on tiptop performances from others apart from Peter Bronder's -   Evelyn Krahe’s plummy contralto (more suited to Erda than Flosshilde), Julian Close’s deep-mined bass as Fafner and  Joel Sorensen’s well sung Mime.  Philippe Fourcade  sang up a storm most appropriately as Donner, while Philip Joll’s  slightly pallid Wotan was never less that committed. Nicholas Folwell was a brutish, menacing presence throughout in both voice and manner as Alberich.

The person most responsible for this success is undoubtedly the intellectual Anthony Negus - who looks increasingly like Woody Allen’s bearded younger brother - but is also  someone whose  clear insight into what he expects,  inspires his scratch orchestra and multi - national roster of established singers  to give an ensemble performance that possibly exceeded even Martin and Lizzie Graham’s wildest dreams.

Can they manage Die Walkure and the rest of the Ring in future seasons? I cannot see why not. The cycle contains many intimate moments and the only real obstacles to be overcome  will be the Valkyries, the chorus moments and the close of Götterdämmerung. With the reviews that Longborough performances have gleaned do far,  financial support should be forthcoming and with a little ingenuity all staging problems can be overcome. Casting will remain a concern throughout of course and must maintain the current high standards,  eschewing  wherever possible the temptation in future years to repay old debts to family and friends.

 

Jim Pritchard

Pictures © Stephen Wright 2007