Ever since Patrice
Chéreau’s trailblazing centenary
Bayreuth Ring in 1976, there
has been an increasing trend towards
modernising Wagner’s great tetralogy.
This is, as with all updating of grand
opera, fraught with difficulties, and
this Stuttgart Ring has more
problems than others I’ve seen. It is
not helped by the fact that rather than
one guiding artistic light, the four
operas were given over to four different
directors. Certainly as far as the first
two operas go, one does not sense any
real continuity, either in design or
approach.
The basic design concept
of Das Rheingold is a
dilapidated public spa, with a large
circular pool at its centre that houses
the treasure. All the action takes place
here, with characters coming and going
from cubicles, using the large staircase
or lift etc. This works quite well at
the start, with the gold glinting in
the water, and the image serving as
an ever-present reminder of the ‘ring’.
It becomes more problematic when it
has to serve as Nibelheim as well as
Valhalla, and lines of definition become
blurred. The costumes are also modern(ish),
or perhaps 1930s - it’s hard to tell
as we also get a smattering of track
suits, trainers and mobile phones. The
singing is also patchy, with some good
support from the Giants (not really
giants at all) and the Rhinemaiden trio,
but disappointing contributions from
the principals. Wotan is cast as an
ageing Don, directing action from his
balcony in Godfather style. Wolfgang
Probst’s voice is unsteady and his acting
bland, though he brings across the hypocritical
side of the character well enough. Esa
Ruutunen is an experienced Alberich
but the voice lacks any depth, and the
Loge of Robert Kunzli makes far less
impact than he should.
With this approach
from director Joachim Schlomer, don’t
expect any real magic in this first
instalment. The Tarnhelm is simply a
tiny mirror, the descent to Nibelheim
a non-event (the anvils are pathetically
feeble) and the final entrance into
Valhalla a (by now predictable) let
down. Donner brings what looks laughably
like a toffee hammer from his pocket
(these are the sort of anachronisms
a modern dress production brings) and
overall we miss a big dimension of awe
and spectacle in this production,
One saving grace is
the orchestral contribution, which under
the expert hand of Lothar Zagrosek,
is superb. He keeps things moving swiftly
along, and points up many beauties in
the score along the way.
Die Walküre,
this time from director Christoph Nel,
is even more stark and modernist. A
darkly lit, basic wood-panelled box
is the general setting, and Hunding’s
Hut simply has a table, some chairs
and a grotty shower in the corner. Presumably
his angle on the piece, as with Schlomer’s
Rheingold, is to concentrate
on relationships, motivation etc. and
forget all the Nordic fairy tale claptrap.
This is fine to a degree, but when Siegmund
(a light-voiced but intelligent Robert
Gambill) comes staggering in from the
‘storm’ in jogging pants and hooded
top, as if he’s been in training for
the London Marathon, the credibility
of the approach starts to falter. There
is certainly a tangible chemistry between
his angst-laden character and the skimpily
dressed Angela Denoke, who is also in
good voice, as she was in Rattle’s recent
Fidelio. But when they are on
the run from Hunding in Act II, dressed
like the lovers out of Brief
Encounter, complete with shabby
suitcases, the gleaming full-size sword
he has to carry looks plain daft. The
climactic battle with Hunding is played
out by giant puppets at the back of
the stage (the sort of models who chime
the hours in a Swiss clock) and again
one is left feeling cheated.
The second Wotan, Jan-Hendrik
Rootering, is in better voice than Probst,
but is played as an idle layabout, his
mighty spear becoming a grass-stalk.
Worst of all are the Valkyries. Renate
Behle’s Brünnhilde is a bovver-booted
rebellious teenager (fair enough in
this conception) but with her large
frame, she looks mightily ill at ease
dressed like this. Her Valkyrie sisters
at the start of Act III look even worse,
decked out as tarty urban call-girls,
except they have ridiculous wings strapped
to their backs. They cavort around,
giggling as broken models (the ‘heroes’)
float by on a conveyor belt, like something
out of The Generation Game. Revisionist
productions have their place, but it’s
at times like this one realises how
hard it is to think it all through.
Getting to the psychological heart of
the piece is one thing; marrying the
vision up to a staging concept that
is in tandem with that is quite another.
As we know, many other illustrious directors
have failed trying this in the Ring.
Zagrosek and the orchestra
just about save the day again. Splendid
brass playing, a lush, uniform string
section and well-judged speeds are some
compensation for the visual mess.
If you want modern,
the Chéreau/Boulez vision still
takes some beating, though I, like many,
am impatient for the Barenboim/ Kupfer
Ring to come out on DVD; it must
rank as one of the most visually arresting
and thought-provoking of recent cycles,
as well as being one of the best sung
and played. Presentation, camera work
and sound quality are all good on the
Stuttgart discs, but on the evidence
of these first two instalments, it’s
hard to see why this particular Ring
was picked for posterity.
Tony Haywood
Staatsorchester Stuttgart/Lothar Zagrosek 
TDK
10 5206 9 (Running time 152 minutes) 
