Opera Review: Lorin Maazel’s “Die Walküre” at The Met
If you studied music, watching a Wagner opera is a bit like standing outside a movie premier: you crane your neck in anticipation of the celebrities you know will be strutting down the red carpet. In the case of Die Walküre, which wraps up its well-praised run at The Met next month, you anticipate the celebrity moments; the sword in the tree, “The Ride of the Valkyries” theme (from “Platoon,” among other pop places), and the demi-god-warrior-daughter-Brünhilde-upon-the-mountain-top sequence, not to mention every glorious time the brass sound the “Valhalla” leitmotiv. They’ve all come out, and your grin just gets wider with each one you hear.
But the draw can end there, at amusement, being just as falsely nourishing as a celebrity sighting—you got the thrill of seeing them, but did it really make the condition of your life that much more meaningful?—unless the production is capable of realizing that larger-than-life magic Wagner emphatically, if annoyingly planned his operas to achieve. Last night’s production seesawed between blockbuster and bomb, and the performances between bombshell and bore.
By the time he got to Die Walküre, Wagner was already gearing up for his final descent into the chromatic free-for-all that would freak everyone out in the opening moments of Tristan und Isolde. Dominant chords are used less as cadential set-ups than as slippery stepping stones that get you from one emotional state to the next. Done well, the squirminess is somehow sublime.
Lorin Maazel dove into the prelude fiercely with the anxious, haunting bass that makes you sit up. It’s good to hear life in Maazel’s music, as so often has not been in evidence with his conducting at The New York Philharmonic. (Critics made a big deal out of this being Maazel’s first gig at The Met in over forty years). Either The Met’s band is simply assembled of better musicians (unlikely), or Maazel is just more at home conducting Wagner than he is modernist Shostakovich or transparent arrangements of Duparc songs. Throughout the night, Maazel kept the score reigned in so that the music seemed to flash against his steady hand. Only once or twice did the elliptical reconfigurations of Wagner’s motivic cells flag. Overall? Well done.
Clifton Forbis and Deborah Voigt fueled the greater part of the vocal evening as the incestuous duo, Siegmund and Sieglinde. Forbis got the hair in my ears to buzz a few times, and Voigt, abandoning any effort at being lyrical (although totally understandable with Wagner), pulled the stops out, particularly in her Act 3 effort, blowing out over the orchestra, one massive, prosaic heldentone after the other: Pretty much why you go to this kind of opera.
In contrast, James Morris’s Wotan was decidedly dull. Whether he’s losing a fight with his stern wife or commanding the Valkyries to back the fuck off, Morris pretty much maintains the same stiff posture and ineffective presence. His voice was solid, if a little worse for wear.
And it is simply unconscionable (I know, I know, it’s only opera) to cast the role of Brünhilde with your weakest singer, in this case, Lisa Gasteen, who seemed not only to have forgotten to fill up her tank, but also might not actually be able to sing Brünhilde’s magnificent entrance, one of the most thrilling in the repertoire. She honestly did not hit any of the high notes in the opening passage, which was repeated—and sung correctly—by eight other sopranos at the beginning of Act 3. Accounts from opening night universally criticized her performance, but almost all said she had warmed up by the finale. There was no come-from-behind win last night. To her credit, Gasteen nicely embodied the youthful vigor of Wotan’s favorite spawn, even at one point spinning and throwing herself to her knees in defiant supplication. But gymnastics alone could not make up for the literal hours of underwhelming vocalism.
The best and most consistent performance, though, came from Michelle de Young as the indomitable Fricka, wife to the philandering Wotan. From entrance to exit, de Young worked it. Her voice filled the hall without pushing for too much, and her stage presence was riveting as she bent Wotan to her will.
But all the star power (both historical and topical) was weighed down by the trappings of Otto Schenk’s science-fantasy inspired 1986 production. Günther Schneider-Siemssen sets are simply too dark (even for our youthful eyes), and Rolf Langenfass’s costumes look oppressively drapy, drably tattered, and unintentionally ridiculous. Opera execs might want to heed Claudia La Rocco’s warning to the ballet community in her recent piece in The New York Times. Even celebrities have to wear a new dress at every premier. God forbid they be caught twice in the same frock. Maybe there is this one lesson we can learn from compulsive celebrity scrutiny. Maybe.
(Photos by Marty Sohl)
Update: C.C. had mistakenly written that the run of “Die Walküre” ended last night, however, there are three more performances: Sat, Feb 2 @ 12:30PM, Wed, Feb 6 @ 6:30PM Sat, Feb 9 @ 12:30PM. Visit The Met for more details.
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