Richard WAGNER (1813-1883)
Das Rheingold [147:12]
Wotan - René Pape
Donner - Alexei Markov
Froh - Sergei Semishkur
Loge - Stephan Rügamer
Fricka - Ekaterina Gubanova
Freia - Viktoria Yastrebova
Erda - Zlata Bulycheva
Alberich - Nikolai Putilin
Mime - Andrei Popov
Fasolt - Evgeny Nikitin
Fafner - Mikhail Petrenko
Woglinde - Zhanna Dombrovskaya
Wellgunde - Irina Vasilieva
Flosshilde - Ekaterina Sergeeva
Mariinsky Orchestra/Valery Gergiev
rec. June 2010, February, April, June 2012, Mariinsky Concert Hall,
St Petersburg
MARIINSKY MAR0526
[72:21 + 75:21]
When record companies embark on a complete
Ring
it’s often
Die Walküre that they release first. There
can be several reasons for this; most often it’s because
Walküre
is the most popular opera in the cycle and so you can guarantee some
sales. Sometimes it’s to give a flavour of the conductor’s
approach before embarking on the more expository style of
Rheingold.
Both of these may well be true of Gergiev’s
Ring, but I
fear that another reason lies behind their decision to release
Rheingold
second. That is that, after such an
excellent
Walküre
as the one they released earlier in 2013, this
Rheingold is nowhere
near the top flight.
There’s a very mellifluous prelude, in which Gergiev generates
a fantastic sense of momentum so that you feel that the music just about
reaches breaking point by the entrance of the Rhinemaidens. After that
things get off to a bad start with a formulaic, run-of-the-mill opening
scene. It’s perfectly capably sung, but the trio of Rhinemaidens
and, especially, Nikolai Putilin’s Alberich feels very much like
they are going through the motions. Perhaps it’s the consequence
of a concert performance, but that’s no excuse when you compare
it with, say,
Janowski’s
recent version which was recorded in similar circumstances. Alberich’s
flirtation with the Rhinemaidens lacks any sense of playfulness, mockery
or malice; they might as well be singing hymns for all the emotional
investment they put in. The Rhinemaidens don’t seem in the least
bit excited about the unveiling of the gold so that their shrieks when
Alberich steals it are decidedly unconvincing. Nor, until the last possible
moment, does Putilin sound in any way energised by the prospect of the
power that the gold will bring him.
Things improve with the second scene, for this introduces René
Pape whose Wotan was so impressive in
Walküre, and it remains
so here. His opening peroration to the finished castle is superb, full
of hope, nobility and high-minded aspiration, and his single - or should
that be simple? - minded determination to avoid paying with Freia is
convincing in the simplicity of its conviction. There is palpable frustration
in his voice when the giants ask for the Rhinegold as payment instead
of Freia and he toys effectively with Alberich in the fourth scene.
His self-confidence then gives way to deep-seated insecurity, even fear
after Erda’s appearance and he sounds deeply reflective after
Fasolt’s murder. However, he sounds tired by the time of the final
monologue, and the first appearance of the sword theme seems to push
him too far beyond his comfort zone. It’s the only thing that
blots an otherwise excellent performance.
Stephan Rügamer is thin of voice for Loge, but I rather liked his
interpretation because the lighter colour is never less than attractive
to listen to, and it adds to the character’s slippery sense of
cunning. Gubanova’s Fricka grew on me after a rather anonymous
start and, thankfully, Putilin’s Alberich finds some energy by
the time of the third scene as he describes his designs on the gods.
He fumes and fulminates brilliantly when the hoard is confiscated, though
there is no need for him to lapse into screaming as he does at the end.
His delivery of the curse is good, however, combining malice and frustration
very convincingly, and making you wonder anew why he didn’t put
more conviction into the first scene.
Much of what is on offer elsewhere, however, is distinctly mediocre.
On paper the duo of Evgeny Nikitin and Mikhail Petrenko look like a
dream pair of giants, but in fact Nikitin is a shouty and banal Fasolt.
Petrenko is better because his Fafner has a hint of evil about him,
even as he describes Freia’s golden apples in his first appearance,
and his murder of his brother seems like the natural conclusion for
this character. At times Sergei Semishkur is barely audible as Froh,
though Alexei Markov summons Donner’s thunderclouds fairly convincingly.
Regrettably the thwack of the timpani when the hammer strikes the rock
is terrible bathos. The voice of Zlata Bulycheva sounds as though it
has been electronically enhanced for Erda, which is an unnecessary mistake
as she sounds perfectly good as she is. Andrei Popov gives his all as
Mime and makes you wish he had been given more to do, even if he isn’t
always exactly tuneful.
Gergiev keeps the transitions moving quickly, and the transformation
from the first to second scenes works particularly well with a quick-paced
attack on the Rhine music before giving way to the more elevated evocations
of the lofty heights. There are plenty of times, though, where his vast
dramatic experience seems to desert him completely, such as the appalling
slowing up of the tempo for the entrance of the giants. Even worse,
he slows down unforgivably during the moment when Wotan wrests the ring
from Alberich’s finger, sapping the dramatic tension fatally and
belying all of his experience in the theatre. Furthermore, the tempo
is all over the place for the final scene; too slow for the appearance
of the rainbow bridge and Wotan’s monologue, then too rushed for
the final climax. On the plus side, the descent into Nibelheim is exciting,
without being thrilling, and Gergiev is helped by an unusually tuneful
set of anvils. The orchestral playing is good, and they rise capably
to the climaxes, such as the appearance of the dragon or the finale
with the rainbow bridge, but they’re not quite at the elevated
level that they achieved in
Walküre, and it’s hard
to know why. Perhaps it’s because there are fewer international
heavyweights in the cast, or perhaps it’s down to the very spread
out dates for recording, no explanation for which is given.
Anyhow, now that we’re half-way through the Mariinsky
Ring
it’s a clear case of one hit and one near-miss. This
Rheingold
is fair enough but it in no way stands up to the other live experience
of Janowski’s version, never mind the still incomparable Solti
Rheingold from 1958 or Karajan’s 1967 version which I’m
also extremely fond of. Which, then, will prove the norm for Gergiev’s
Ring: the thrilling passion of
Walküre or the slightly
insipid, formulaic approach of
Rheingold? Maybe we’ll find
out with the arrival of
Siegfried.
Simon Thompson
Masterwork Index:
Das
Rheingold