I saw Hans Neuenfels’s rat-infested vision of Lohengrin
again soon after reviewing the re-release by Arthaus Musik of
the 1990 traditional Vienna State Opera staging. This made me
appreciate it even more than the grudging acceptance I gave
to this staging during its first two years at Bayreuth. To be
honest, as a film experience it is better than atheatrical
one because there are moments, magnified through the screen,
that will be missed unless you are sitting in the first few
rows of the Festspielhaus. I pondered why Lohengrin - who is
shown trying to get through some doors during the Prelude to
Act I - offers kisses to them before they eventually open for
him. Later Telramund is shown bound to the overturned carriage
that is seen at the start of Act II. From all the belongings
strewn around it some of Neuenfels’s ‘rats’
are making off with wads of notes. As I wrote about this revival
last summer: ‘It dawned on me more than ever before that
I do not come to Bayreuth for answers, only for more questions
I cannot really find the answers to.’
Neuenfels’s imaginatively uses members of the chorus as
black and white rats. In their second year, they seemed to be
getting the upper hand - perhaps it is Rise of the Planet
of the Rats? It is the black male rats - often with glowing
red eyes, long fingers and toes - that greet King Henry at the
start of the opera. They shed their outer-rat persona when Lohengrin
is first sighted and are now dressed in canary yellow. Their
female counterparts are in wedding dresses of a variety of pastel
shades and lavish hats. The rats remove their outer ‘skin’,
they are collected and put on hooks to rise high above the stage.
We now see this from a camera high up above the Festspielhaus
stage. Much the same happens to the caged male rats in Act II
before the wedding preparations. They return later with a bald
pate and appearance made famous by a British music hall star
of yesteryear called Max Wall. As it all unfolded before me
a second time last summer, the appearances of a cute gaggle
of small pink rats in Acts II and III generated ‘Oohs
and Aahs’ of appreciation from the theatre audience. It
seemed to be making this Bayreuth’s answer to a popular
Disney musical.
The great British stage director, Richard Jones, once replied
when asked to explain what an opera production of his meant,
‘Well, what does it mean to you?’. I am not sure
what Neuenfels wants me to think and it increasingly matters
less and less to me. I have still not entirely worked out the
significance of the three ‘Wahrheit’ (Truth) animations
that are seen from time to time but even these were not the
distraction they seemed before. Here on the DVD they are shown
over the Preludes and are available separately in the ‘Extra
Features’ that also includes a few short interviews with
Katharina Wagner, Hans Neuenfels, Klaus Florian Vogt and Annette
Dasch.
In Act III the rats’ heads are merely helmets and the
men and women are in uniforms with ‘L’ on the front
and a swan silhouette on the back - all now have bald heads.
Another question is how do they know his name is Lohengrin
as he has not told anyone yet? At the end of the Act I high
above the stage a plucked swan was seen and I wondered why?
The answer to what became of its feathers comes when a black
boat/half-an-egg rises full of feathers out of the bridal bed
as Elsa imagines its return at ‘Doch, dort - der Schwan
- der Schwan!’ Elsa later appears as if in mourning and
totally distraught though she soon strips and gets to grips
with Lohengrin but it is all too late for them both. The egg
returns and is ‘cradling’ her lost brother, Gottfried,
who will become the new ruler of Brabant. In this case he is
like the result of some gruesome genetic experiment gone wrong
as he tears apart his umbilical cord and frees himself. Lohengrin
wanders to the front of the stage and continues even after the
music stops and the curtains close.
The flexible camerawork focuses on all these pivotal moments
of Neuenfels’s Konzept … and much more. Samuel
Youn is an imposing Herald and though eschewing all sense of
majesty in a portrayal of King Henry as fitful and neurotic,
Georg Zeppenfeld is equally excellent. Jukka Rasilainen impresses
as the weak-willed Telramund, who has no hope of being good
enough to bring Ortrud the power she craves. Petra Lang is surely
the best of the all the current Ortruds. It is wonderful to
have her assumption on DVD for the first time here. Melodramatic
possibly, cajoling, manipulative and Machiavellian certainly,
her incredible vocal range is never heard to more thrilling
effect than in her demands for revenge in Act II - ‘Entweihte
Götter! Helft jetzt meiner Rache!’ This is clear
evidence - if any is necessary - that her forthcoming role debuts
as Brünnhilde should not be missed.
Annette Dasch was very good as the troubled and ‘wounded’
Elsa with her pliant soprano voice only occasionally sounding
possibly a little too small for Wagner. Klaus Florian Vogt is
a wonderfully laidback Lohengrin. Mostly he sings with his typical
incredible ease, impeccable phrasing, eloquence, delicate pianissimos,
and flute-like tones. However the camera does not lie and it
reveals that even he finds his Act III ‘Grail Narration’
rather more challenging than it appears from the back of the
stalls. Andris Nelsons got the measure ofLohengrin in
the second year and here is evidence of a supple performance,
rich in detail, and with each act’s long dramatic span
being impeccably sustained, allowing for climaxes as thrilling
as could be hoped for.
Post-Wolfgang Wagner Bayreuth has its critics but this Lohengrin
- and the Stefan Herheim 2008 Parsifal that will be broadcast
and recorded this summer - shows it at its very best. I strongly
commend this DVD to those who want to know what is current at
Bayreuth … or to those who have seen it in the Festspielhaus
or on TV and want to relive it.
Jim Pritchard