This is a fascinating
interpretation of the Parsifal legend.
Nikolaus Lehnhoff's production may be
known to English readers from ENO. In
Lehnhoff's eyes, 'Wagner's music mercilessly
tells of total loneliness, of living
in an empty world stripped of all its
former meaning'. The Knights of the
Holy Grail 'have over time lost sight
of their roots'; most tellingly perhaps,
Lehnhoff tells us that, 'Parsifal is
an endgame in the wasteland'. Gurnemanz
symbolises all that is old, believing
in the strength of the rituals that
used to work but now are spiritually
empty.
Interestingly, in Religion
and Art, Wagner himself says that,
'One might say that where religion becomes
artificial, it is reserved for art to
save the spirit of religion by recognising
the figurative value of the mythical
symbol ... But religion has sunk into
an artificial life when she finds herself
compelled to keep on adding to the edifice
of her dogmatic symbols, and thus conceals
the one divinely true in her.' So music,
then, is to be religion's saviour, to
realign it with the spirituality it
has lost.
The world of this Parsifal's
Act 1 is barren. A rising stage - at
the time when I saw this at the Coliseum
I just thought it was part of that house's
then penchant for all things sloping
- and a piece of rock that juts out
from the wall: a meteor, possibly, part
of the ongoing destruction of the physical
as a mirror for the spiritual decline?
To set the scene (and so much more),
the Prelude needs a real sense of the
mystical; great things are, after all,
afoot. Nagano however leads a nicely
together rendition, with nicely balanced
brass. Yet is it clear that we are entering
a holy land of the ideas, a land where
faith is nevertheless in crisis? Listen
to Goodall's recording and the answer
is self-evident.
Gurnemanz is Matti
Salminen, dressed in sack-cloth. With
his squires placed in the form of a
triangle (representing the Trinity,
presumably) he greets the day,. This
Gurnemanz is a man of true faith, and
Salminen reiterated this by vocal inflection;
the way he emphasises the second statement
of the word 'eines' at 'Es hilft nur
eines, nur eines'. A Redeemer is called
for, yet it is Kundry who enters. She
is dressed, in this production, as a
human bird; she does, figuratively,
fly in at speed. Yet do I not remember
seeing - I do not have the score to
hand - an instruction that she should
be clad in snake-skin?. Certainly it
would make sense to make a link between
shedding skins as she has shed lives;
more of that in Act 2 of course. Musically
Meier gives a rather lyrical reading
of some vital lines. Her 'Sind die Tiere
hier nicht heilig?' is defensive rather
than attacking, for example.
Salminen's long narratives
are expressively delivered and with
real structural awareness – thus his
'O wondervolle, heilige Speer' has real
cumulative impact. His diction is well-nigh
faultless.
Amfortas is Thomas
Hampson, acting, correctly, as if unbelievably
weak, yet his 'Durch Mittleid wissend'
is simultaneously full of hope. Again,
his robes are plain - the crown presumably
came from Oxfam.
Christopher Ventris
enters every inch the boyish fool, painted
as a warrior on his face. He cannot
see that he has done wrong in killing
the swan, and yet he is about to embark
on his journey of self-realisation.
To him initially it is just another
animal, yet to the knights the swan
is holy, just as the dove is - at Jesus'
baptism the Spirit of Christ descended
in the form of a dove. Birds are thus
a direct representation of high spirituality
hence Messiaen's fondness for our feathered
friends. Parsifal is, if you like, starting
with a blank sheet, and boy can
Vetris's face imply this.
The Transformation
Music is visually manifested by shafts
of light around the stage. Parsifal
and Gurnemanz remain stationary, swaying
in one place as if walking. The rock
in the wall rotates too.
For the 'service' Parsifal
watches from the side-lines. Not only
does this imply his lack of understanding,
it also physically breaks the symmetry
of the rite in progress, a lovely way
of expressing the processes at work
here. Parsifal wanders around curiously
as the Grail is uncovered. Titurel (Kristinsson)
is depicted as a living skeleton, an
image that stays with the viewer long
afterwards. If only Nagano's conducting
had invoked the state of real majesty
here – this can be an imposing sight,
yet the feeling of greatness of interpretation
remains missing.
Act Two is a magnificent
piece of music. I wonder to this day
at the structurally interruptive nature
of the Herzeleide Narrative. It is an
aria in all but name and a tonally-sectioned-off
piece. In Schenkerian terms, this represents
a descent from 5 to 2, with the dominant
note of 1 reinterpreted harmonically
to allow the drama to move on. Klingsor
is Tom Fox dressed almost like an insect
and thereby bringing back memories of
a recent DVD of Madama Butterfly
I reviewed. Kundry wears a skull-cap
and black perhaps to contrast with her
later seductiveness. However what is
really impressive is Meier's singing.
Her range is huge ... and it needs to
be for this part! It is certainly believable
in this production that Parsifal could
resist the Flower-Maidens; their costumes
of extended arms to resemble flower
parts is distinctly un-sexy. Kundry
is another matter. Here she emerges
from behind a screen, as if shedding
an existence in the process.
Nagano paces this act
well, from the lullaby-like two-in-a-bar
of 'Ich sah das Kind' (what a high register
from Meier here!) to the subtle emphasis
on the Spear motif in the horn as she
asks Parsifal, 'What else brought you
here but the wish to know?'. The Spear
in the orchestra provides the answer.
Interestingly, the
kiss that forms the height of her seduction
– and enables Parsifal to feel the wound
of Amfortas in his side – comes too
late. Musically it comes at precisely
the moment when a major triad is recontextualised
to sound as a dissonance - because a
diminished seventh has assumed by this
time normative status in our hearing.
Good, though, that Kundry sheds her
final layer just as the chalice-music
is heard, and that her wing comes off
at the word 'Erlöser' ('Redeemer').
Needless to say Kundry's massive leap
- high B flat to low C sharp if memory
serves - on the chilling world 'lachte'
(she saw Him on the Cross and laughed)
is spine-chillingly superb.
Production-wise the
gross error is that at the end of the
act Klingsor is meant to throw the spear
at Parsifal, and it hovers above its
target. Here the solution is much more
mundane: Parsifal just takes it off
him!
Nagano seems to raise
his game for Act 3's magnificent Prelude.
A sloping stage and a railway track
to (apparently) nowhere, with Kundry
in a bundle at the end of it is the
fittingly austere setting. She sings
her one word in this Act ('Dienen' –
'Serving') with appropriate numbness.
Parsifal enters with
the Spear, dressed all in black armour.
Gurnemanz (Salminen) is generally excellent
in this act, although his scoop up to
'Heil dir, mein Gast' is surprising.
But the triumph for the production is
that when Parsifal reveals himself he
does indeed appear changed; and how
holy the music sounds as Gurnemanz kneels
in front of the spear ('Höchstes
Wunder!'). But Salminen is no Robert
Lloyd (to mention a recentish Gurnemanz
that impressed), and his longer narrations
do not carry the same sort of weight.
And if Nagano paces the act well, giving
enough space, he does little more than
that.
This is a harrowing
last act, with Titurel's skeletal figure
mixed in with corpses in an onstage
pit. Amfortas is convincing in his refusals
to open the Grail, and as he memorably
puts the crown on Parsifal's head at
the moment of death provides a moment
of real tenderness.
Well worth watching
and listening. This is an interesting
take on one of the greatest dramas ever
written.
The 'extra' is a 75-minute
film called 'Parsifal's Progress'. This
includes extended excerpts from this
production as well as interviews (Meier
speaks in German) with the principal
singers. There are commentaries on the
production, choreography etc. Interesting,
certainly, but the production itself
is far more stimulating.
Colin Clarke
see also review
by Anne Ozorio April RECORDING
OF THE MONTH