There are, to date, twenty-four complete performances
of Wagner’s Ring tetralogy conducted by Moralt, Gebhardt, Furtwängler,
Stiedry, Karajan, Krauss, Knappertsbusch, Solti, Kempe, Böhm, Swarowsky,
Goodall, Boulez, Janowski, Haitink, Levine, Sawallisch, Barenboim, and
Neuhold. There is now another taken from live performances in Austria
and Italy under Gustav Kuhn.
The cast-list itself makes strange reading and should
hint at the rather curious background to the singers (of whom I must
confess to have heard only of Alan Woodrow, who had a career at ENO
in London some years back, but in tenor roles considerably lighter than
that graveyard of a part written for Siegfried). The clue lies in the
Accademia di Montegral, the brainchild of the charismatic Kuhn, who
himself had a starry if brief career at Glyndebourne and Covent Garden,
mainly in Strauss operas in the 1980s.
Rather like the late lamented Sinopoli but not so talented
as a conductor, Kuhn had a quasi-medical background at university (philosophy,
psychology and psychopathology) while simultaneously studying composition
and conducting in Salzburg (his birthplace) and Vienna. He founded the
Accademia di Montegral in 1993 and staffed it with ‘highly qualified
teachers and promising young artists who attempt to make an active contribution
to revitalise and maintain standards of musical theatre in a combined
effort, in addition to reaching and maintaining a high musical and artistic
standard among talented professionals’ (the CD booklet’s translation
not mine). The students consist of singers, composers, conductors, stage
directors, dancers and so on, with the principal focus placed upon the
Italian and German opera repertoire. It is all sponsored privately and
also voluntarily by the members (i.e. students). Apparently entry is
extremely competitive, with a ‘severe audition and recurring controls’,
which presumably means periodic moderation to ensure standards are being
maintained
Whether this accounts for the sharing of roles among
several singers, such as three each of Brünnhilde and Wotan and
a couple of Mimes, as well as instances of doubling up such as Wotan
returning as Hagen, and Sieglinde as Gutrune for the denouement in Götterdämmerung
remains a mystery. If it was intentional on the stage director’s
part it becomes an interesting slant but was it intended as such
or are they simply getting their just rewards for having paid their
‘voluntary contributions’ to the school? Perhaps it was because one
opera per year appears to have been staged (with Die Walküre
the last instead of second, curiously), but on the other hand once a
cycle has been put together over however many years it takes, it surely
makes sense then to stage it as Wagner intended, over six days including
days off. Nor can it be wise to double or triple-cast if the result
piles confusion upon what can be already prove to be a confusing story
for the new listener. There is little sense of theatrical atmosphere
here, even though we are listening to a series of live recordings, and
if ever a work needs a wary approach to what can be longueurs this is
it - regrettably there are many and not of Wagner’s making.
Some of the singing is seriously miscast. Andrea Martin’s
Alberich is not evil enough, Thomas Hay as Fafner sounds like a woolly
kitten rather than a giant-turned-dragon, while as Fricka, Nadja Michael’s
recessed voice makes her sound like a fishwife, and one feels instantly
sorry for the hen-pecked Wotan. The orchestra plays well enough but
the balance is sometimes completely wrong with parts sounding like a
concerto for timpani. Kuhn manages to knock half an hour off the last
Ring I reviewed (Neuhold’s), and I did not find that one particularly
slow, but here the tonal colour is fairly monochrome and the pacing
not very exciting, not even at the end of Die Walküre when
Siegmund draws Nothung from the ash tree. It’s not all doom and gloom.
Loge has a marked success, while as Wotan Dohmen is imposing enough,
so why replace him with the less impressive Duccio dal Monte? The whole
idea smacks of that farcical replacement of Miss Elly in Dallas
which defied credulity. There’s a similar transformation when Julia
Oesch, Erda in Das Rheingold, sings Fricka in Die Walküre,
admittedly an improvement on Nadja Michael, though her diction is far
from clear, and then goes back underground to sing Erda once again in
Siegfried. The female groups of Rhinemaidens, Valkyrie and Norns,
respectively make the most of their appearances despite competition
from over-zealous playing by the orchestra, which failing reinforces
Wagner’s point about the unique covered pit he created especially for
this tetralogy in Bayreuth in 1876. There the orchestra never drowns
the singers and every word is audible.
As Siegmund, the Australian Brunsdon tenor sounds strained
at the top with ominous signs of a wobble here and there, and his breathing
is not always logically paced. That he started his career as a bass
speaks volumes, but he came up through the baritone Fach, and perhaps
that is where he should have remained, for that register of his voice
as heard here is very attractive. Gertrud Ottenthal as Sieglinde is
much more thrilling a discovery, and unsurprisingly she turns out to
be a very experienced singer (though I doubt the biographical note for
this soprano which lists the role of the third Norn in her repertoire
- being for a contralto and therefore the lowest of the three ‘dreary
aunts’ in Götterdämmerung as Anna Russell memorably
described them). She is at her best (despite Kuhn’s attempts to drown
her) when she is told she is carrying Siegfried, and at this point also
inspires the first of the three Brünnhildes, Elena Comotti to her
best singing. The first act of Siegfried always provides an opportunity
to contrast the tenor voices of Mime and Siegfried, and sure enough
Thomas Hay characterises the former in traditional nasally whining manner
while Woodrow’s voice either rings heroically like his hammer on the
anvil as he forges the pieces of the shattered sword Nothung, or lyrically
as he dreams of the mother he never knew. We also encounter the last
of Wotan in this act, and sure enough it’s yet another singer, though
this time the rather beautiful voice of the young Finn Juha Uusitalo
(trained as an orchestral flautist) as the world-weary Wanderer. We
should be hearing more of him in the future.
Meanwhile on top of the mountain is Brünnhilde
Mark Two, this time Elizabeth-Maria Wachutka, woken after (or perhaps
by) woeful tuning and ensemble in upper strings, harps and woodwinds
to greet the sun after twenty years sleep. She is another of the few
more experienced singers, having been around for twenty years or so,
and despite some shrillness gives a pleasing performance. In Götterdämmerung
we encounter the last version, Eva Silberbauer, who immediately sounds
the part from her first entry ‘Zu neuen Taten, teurer Held’, a voice
reminiscent of a former Brünnhilde, Gwyneth Jones, including her
less attractive habit of coming to the note from slightly under it.
Mercifully the role of Siegfried has remained with Woodrow, and their
first act duet is a highlight of the whole cycle. So if you can cope
with all these cast changes and are prepared to accept some variable
performances then it’s worth adding this 25th version to
the others, but be choosy about which bits you listen to.
Christopher Fifield