A month ago, I began a titanic task: watching the famous Jahrhundertring, or "Ring of the Century", as the production that Pierre Boulez and Patrice Chéreau performed in Bayreuth between 1976 and 1980 is known.
Every Wagnerian always happen to meet this production, which was staged to celebrate the 100th Anniversary of Richard Wagner's The Ring of the Nibelung, the greatest musical epic in the West. When it was filmed on video, in 1980, it not only inmortalised this staging, but also, it represented a step forward in the dissemination of this work, in a similar level like the legendary DECCA recording of Solti's Ring twenty years ago. It the Hungarian maestro's was the first complete audio recording on studio, Boulez's one was the first filming of the complete cycle, which at that time, in the golden the era of operatic television broadcasts, was a monumental task never done before. So, Wagner's music epic reached an audience of millions. Never before had Wagner's work reached so many people in a short span of time, and even if he would have wanted it, he certainly could not have imagined it.
What can I add that to what has been said about this staging? Wolfgang Wagner, in the most risky decision of his career, hired Pierre Boulez to conduct the event, and Boulez chose Patrice Chéreau, a young director with very few Wagnerian notions, but with an inmense creativity. Until then, the scandals had been caused by Wieland Wagner and Götz Friedrich with their Tannhäuser of 1972. Wagnerian orthodoxy, already dissatisfied in itself since 1951, when in the Wagnerian temple the majestic naturalistic productions began to be replaced by the minimalist ones by Wieland and Wolfgang, more focused on dramaturgy and lighting, and always setting it in a mythical Norse era. If we also add the French nationality of the scenic team (alongside Chéreau, set designer Richard Peduzzi and Costume designer Jacques Schmidt), the wrath of the most conservative sectors of Bayreuth and the Wagnerian world was guaranteed.
Fights, boycotts, riots, threats of attacks, and according to Frederic Spotts, breakups of friendships and marriages, were the most immediate consequence. Critics and audiences were not only puzzled, but also divided. The Wagnerian associations of the time asked to destroy this production and finance a new one. Radio broadcasts inmortalised several boos and interruptions during the show. Many singers did not participate again in 1977. The orchestra revolted against Boulez, but Wolfgang Wagner prevented him from resigning. Even Winifred Wagner, stated that if she ever met Chéreau, she would kill him. But one year later, she herself told him in person, that it was better for a production to generate debate than for it to be boring. This production, together with Götz Friedrich's Tannhäuser, brought the regietheater to the Bayreuth stage and established it there. Nothing would be the same since then. And that's why, when this production ended in 1980, it received a 90-minute ovation. This filming would extend its influence to generations of fans and artists.
Chéreau sets the work in an era beginning with the early Industrial Revolution, until the rise of fascism, which unfortunately mirrored itself with Wagner's 19th Century nationalism and continues to parasitize his work. Nowadays this staging would be completely classic and conservative, because many of the things from Wagner's original action are recognized despite the change of setting: swords, dragons, forests, ash trees, Valkyrie uniforms, magical fire... But we are in a work, in which the important thing are not the battles, dragons, the heroic deeds, since those are more mentioned than seen, but the feelings of the characters, how incredibly human they seem to us despite being so distant because of their mythological background, and the consequences of their actions. These gods are not powerful, but fragile, hypocritical, impulsive and fickle, like the politicians of Wagner's time, Chéreau's time, and ours. Likewise the heroes, the dwarves and the giants. The Ring gives the title to the work because of the misery it involves for all of its holders, rather than the power that emanates from it. It is a version with political language, and also cinematographic language, although this is something that Wagner would anticipate decades before the invention of cinema itself.
Das Rheingold is set by Chéreau with a rawness and intensity that shows us the work in a different, in a way never seen before. The first scene is a hydraulic dam, in which the fog that emerges from it evokes the depth of the Rhine. Alberich is a dirty, drunk tramp, who is seduced by the Rhinemaidens, here dressed as prostitutes or can-can cabaret performers. Gold does not shine from the bottom of the river, but appears through a floodgate. The Walhalla is not seen complete, only its monumental neo-baroque door, embedded in what appears to be an industrial building. Wotan and Fricka are a nineteenth-century bourgeois couple, but Froh and Donner appear dressed as two braggarts from the previous century, devoid of vigor in front of the giants (because here they continue to appear as giants, which does not happen today), which the Freia's abandonment seems total. From the sewers appears Loge, dressed as a sinister, hunchbacked, long-nosed eighteenth-century official. That he appears from the ground makes it a link with Nibelheim, here an underground, a working-class neighborhood, with brick walls, where sunlight never reaches, where there is dirt and violence, with Mime as an impoverished foreman . The appearance of Erda as a mysterious, veiled figure is a nod to the belief in esotericism and the supernatural that existed in bourgeois circles of the time. The ending is terrifying, because Loge does not participate in the glory of the Gods, but tells the gods his real thoughts about them, to their own faces, and they, stunned after witnessing the death of Fasolt and after hearing the warnings of the daughters of the Rhine, are forced by Wotan to enter Walhalla, while Loge himself closes the curtain with a knowing look at the viewer: the end of the gods is near and he will be seriously involved in it.
Since Die Walküre is the journey in which more personal conflicts take place instead of heroic deeds,.Chéreau takes takes this to the limit, making a dramatic and theatrical reading of the action. The fact of having a young and attractive main couple like Peter Hoffmann and Jeannine Altmeyer means that, in addition to the obvious chemistry between the singers, the stage direction makes them overflow with passion on stage, at the end of Act 1, something never seen before in Bayreuth. In the first act, Hunding's house is the courtyard of a mansion. Hunding is an elegantly dressed landowner. In the center of the house there is an ash tree from which Siegmund draws his sword. In the second act we witness the duet between Wotan and Fricka in an undetermined place, with doors and a clock in the middle, possibly inside Walhalla. It is curious how Chéreau does not define its physical space, but rather gives details, clues to it, to reflect its superficial power, empty inside. The almighty Wotan here debases himself, he is not noble, but a coward, bound by conventions, who betrays his wife, his children. The third act is the most spectacular, with that rock of the Valkyries, a monumental ruin of what was once a palace, but totally credible. Chéreau depicts Brünnhilde as a brave young woman, but with a tenderness and innocence that the other characters do not have. And that, counterbalanced by Wotan's brutality, makes the third act very intense. In the end, Wotan only strikes his spear once, and fire and smoke emerge from the rock, leaving a spectacular scene at sight.
In Siegfried, Chéreau takes the action to the end of 19th century. Chéreau shows very well here the optimism and adventure that permeates the work. We can see, well depicted the thuggish (which for me was always unbearable) and at the same time innocent temperament of the protagonist hero. This reading of the Ring portrays the darker and less noble side of Wotan, since from his position as a wise god he is arrogant, ambitious, and strives for power as much as Alberich. And it is in the duet with this one in the second act where we see the confrontation between two old men full of hatred and resentment, and in the same way with Erda, whom he attacks after getting her evasion in response. The threatening forest is present in the first act, in the background, in a brick house, in which stands an imposing forge oven. Siegfried appears dirty, with gnawed clothes, like a homeless man from the beginning of the last century. Another thing that is very rare to see today is the bear with which Siegfried torments Mime. Although it is out of context to see the modern pots and pans at the end of the forge, to see Mime putting one on his head while Siegfried forges the sword, which he does not hammer here (in fact the hammering is a recording). The second act has possibly what is the best recreation of the forest ever filmed on stage and added to the excellent lighting, one feels in the middle of it, one feels its heavy darkness (to which the work of the cameras contributes). A visually wonderful moment is that when Fafner's voice is heard, the treasure of the Nibelung is shown, shining. Although when the dragon becomes visible, the stagehands can still be seen moving the wheeled cart where it sits. The little forest bird is a real bird, although it is in a cage. The third act is equally impressive, in the first scene everything surrounded by fog, and then back to the impressive rock of the Valkyries. Here the acting direction manages to reflect Siegfried's fears upon seeing Brunnhilde asleep, and her hesitations and fragility after being awaken by him.
Götterdämmerung is the most modern of the four journeys, since it sets the work in the 1930s, when the Great Depression prepared the way for totalitarianism in Europe. And perhaps this must have been the most shocking at its time, because for the first time in its history, the characters not only no longer wore traditional costumes, but they wore pants, trench coats, suits, and other street clothes. The mythical world of heroes and gods gave way to everyday reality on stage. And it is in these conditions that the actions of, for example, the Gibichungs appear most real: Gunther is not only the manipulable and pusillanimous character, but Chéreau deprives him of any nobility that his position gives him: dressed in a suit and bow tie, He is the typical void, posh politician who only has his appearance. Hagen, the brute, unrefined, poorly dressed, manipulative and scheming stepbrother, appears here as the mobster who pulls the strings in this clan, now depicted as a town in the coast, in the Depression era. Gutrune is a beautiful woman, dressed like a classic Hollywood actress, the friendly face of the regime. The beautiful rock of the Valkyries appears in the prologue completely dark, something that announces the frustration of the hopes of the previous journey. The Gibichungs palace is represented by two enormous columns, and the immense Rhine behind, which looks more like a sea, and in the background a miniature, a distant building, in an architecture reminiscent of fascist Italy. The second act is the most beautiful visually, since the Rhine is seen as extensive as a sea, while the houses of Gibich's subjects stand on one shore. The Alberich-Hagen duet, in the middle of the gloomy night, is a moment of great beauty. Then the chorus is seen, dressed in street clothes, as they are working class people.The third act shows the melancholy of the work in a masterful way: the dam in operation in the Gold, appears here turned off, in broad daylight, and the daughters of the Rhine are dressed poorly. Although the main climax is the funeral march: after the hero's death the curtain is lowered and many people gather to see his body. Then these people look towards the audience, and the camera focuses on their expressions of sadness: the people has lost their glorious hero, who was like them.
The Finale, as depicted by Chéreau, closes the cycle with a cinematographic picture: the imposing neoclassical gate of Walhalla appears burning, while the people gather around to look. But when the fire goes out, everyone bows. Suddenly, in amidst the remaining smoke, two young girls stand up and look at the audience, followed by everyone else. As it is a filmed performance without audience, after the last note of music, this image stands for a while, in a breathtaking silence, before fading.
Much has been said of Pierre Boulez's fast conducting, blamed to be impersonal. The maestro had to deal with hateful comparisons, as ten years ago the Ring was conducted by none other than Karl Böhm. In Rheingold his rendition is violent, energetic, and that speed translates into making the drama more active. Maybe it's the Bayreuth Orchestra, or the sound, but the performance of the prelude is powerful, with the wind creating a sound from the depths. Boulez does not give Wagner majesty, he makes his music dynamic and puts it at the service of dramaturgy. The prelude strings sound magnificent. However, it just seems a little less refined in the end. In Walküre, the strings in the prelude and the brass in the Hunding scenes and the second act reach a moment of splendor. However, this wanes in the third act, going too fast in the interlude before Wotan and Brunnhilde's duet, even the strings go too fast, breaking the climax, when Wotan sleeps and prepares his daughter, although the final magic fire music regains its beauty. In Siegfried, once again the light tempi are most noticeable where they should be least noticed: the torrent of emotions in which the work delves from the moment Siegfried enters the rock of the Valkyries to wake Brunhilde, until the end. In Götterdämmerung, Boulez continues with his electrifying and fast conducting, but matching with the drama. And certainly in the second act he reaches its zenith, highlighting the theatrical tension. In the interludes it is different: Siegfried's Journey across the Rhine sounds, energetic, but the Funeral March lacks some refinement, and the orchestra sounds rough more than epic or solemn. And although orchestrally Boulez's dynamic tempi fit well to the dramatic tension, in the final orchestral conclusion, the speed takes away a little of its apotheosis, but still moving. The brass is excellent in the brief prelude to the prologue and in Hagen's monologue in the first act.
The Festival Choir is at its excellent level. A curious fact, although not very relevant: you begin to see Asian choristers when two decades ago the choir was genuinely German. Some survivor of Winifred's era must have felt further reason for outrage.
If Boulez had to cope with hateful comparisons, the extensive cast would suffer even more, specially when fifteen years ago there were still Hotter, Neidlinger, Windgassen, Nilsson, Varnay, Greindl, Frick, Rysanek and King singing at the green hill.
Donald McIntyre has suffered a lot of criticism for his supposedly poorly sung Wotan. His woody and nasal tone may not stand up to comparison with Hans Hotter, but he is not denied to have a great voice, a considerable vocal projection, but it is not always pleasant and has guttural moments, but for the most part it can be heard and conveys power and a command of the role. At an acting level he has an imposing stage presence, depicting a violent, authoritarian, rather than noble Wotan.
Gwyneth Jones was criticized for "screaming" too much. And although this may seem true in her high voice, in general her singing is more than acceptable, she has personality and leaving behind her treble trouble (specially in Götterdämmerung) we are in front a great Brunnhilde. In Siegfried, she is tender on a musical and acting level, representing the fragility of the character. In Götterdämmerung, she gives a memorable rendition of the second act, on a musical and acting level representing Brunnhilde's anger at being betrayed, and in the final Immolation, Despite her limitations, her performance is great, magnificent in many occasions.
Much has been said about Manfred Jung, about how he is the lowest point of this Ring. Certainly, they could have chosen a better Siegfried, since his voice at that time would have been, at most, suitable for Loge or David in Meistersinger. But even if his voice isn't pleasant, at least it has volume and the projection is firm. Nothing to do with many current tenors whose voices are fragile. But it doesn't excuse his poor voice, since in the high notes he is usually in trouble. At least as an actor he is excellent, as Siegfried is seen in his courageous, mischievous temper, and there is chemistry with Jones' Brunnhilde on stage.
Peter Hofmann and Jeannine Altmeyer are probably the best main couple in the cycle, and their performances became a hit in those times. Without being very splendid vocally (although nowadays they would be ovationed in every major houses), their performances are notable. Hofmann has that singular tone, but the middle register sounds heroic, almost baritonal. Altmeyer would sing Brunnhilde in the 80s, but her voice is more suited to Sieglinde, recreating a beautiful and sensitive woman, something that transcends her musicality. In Götterdämmerung she is a beautiful Gutune in every sense, although she does not stand out as much as Sieglinde.
Hermann Becht is not Gustav Neidlinger but he has a deep voice, and musically he is excellent even though he is a little high-pitched for the role. In Siegfried and Götterdämmerung he sings an older, resented and repulsive Alberich, notably being guttural in the former, and dark and ominous in the latter. In fact one of his best moments is the confrontation with Wotan in Siegfried and his duet with Hagen.
One of the highlights of the cast is the Loge and the Mime (from Siegfried) sung by Heinz Zednik. Zednik is here at the peak of his career, and is the big star of this cast. He is vocally impeccable, with that spieltenor voice that sings and expresses the character's double standards, and that grotesque tone, like Gerhard Stolze. As Mime, he doesn't have the same level at the beginning (he would surpass himself in his Met video recording, a decade later), but little by little he takes over the character, shining in the middle of the first act and in the second.
Another surprise in the cast is the great Matti Salminen, excellent as Fasolt and Hunding, with his spectacular deep, dark tone, which is at its best. Hanna Schwarz is an excellent Fricka, with a voice that is more dramatic than authoritative, and a feminine, sensual stage presence, and a delicious tone. Franz Mazura, with his villainous and nasal voice, might not initially be suitable for Gunther. But precisely this makes him fit into the repulsive portrait this staging gives to his character, and it results successful. Ortrun Wenkel is a well sung Erda, but she is better as a First Norn. Fritz Hübner is also a well sung Fafner, without being referential, better in Siegfried than in Rheingold. In Götterdämmerung he sings Hagen, but although as an actor he recreates the brute, mafia and repulsive side of the role, vocally he is just correct, not enough dark. Helmut Pampuch is Mime in Rheingold, a role he sang for more than twenty years at Bayreuth, with an excellent vocal and acting performance. In the rest of the cast there are future stars, such as Siegfried Jerusalem as Froh, Gabriele Schnaut as a Valkyrie and a Norn, supporting cast singers from that time such as Martin Egel's correct Donner, the excellent Norma Sharp as Woglinde and the Little Bird of the Forest, Carmen Reppel's delightful Freia, or Gwendolyne Killebrew, who is Waltraute in both Valkyrie and Götterdämmerung, in the latter being vocally good, in addition to a skilled acting (that cold look she gives her sister Brunnhilde when she hugs her, for example). The rest of the cast, Valkyries, Norns, and Daughters of the Rhine, is a good level although not at the same excellent levels as in past or later editions.
One does not understand the disdain of many conservative Wagnerians with the staging, considering that many things in Wagner's libretto are still recognized there. And one can watch last year's Ring in Bayreuth to understand it: neither the forest, nor dragons, nor gold, nor valkyries, nor shields, nor helmets can be seen. Not even any emotion. In this case, we are looking at one of the most important opera videos of all time, which consecrated the Regietheater in Bayreuth permanently. Chéreau achieves what Wagner wanted: his work to be talked about and to leave no one indifferent. Therefore, more than forty years since its filming and editing, this Ring not only is still fresh, and current, but maintains all its dramatic force, redefining our way of understanding this work.
I want to conclude this account by mentioning the no less must-see documentary of this production, : while watching the Finale from Götterdämmerung (photo above), the presenter's voice announcing that the following Bayreuth Festival, the 1983 one, would havee a new Ring staging to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Wagner's death , stating that both the stage director, Sir Peter Hall, and the musical director, Sir Georg Solti, would find their justification in Wagner's music...
And we already know that their classic staging was an absolute flop, despite the fact that it was announced as a restorating return to the essential Wagner's stage indication, and had to face a strong comparison with Chéreau's work. What an irony!
My reviews are not professional and express only my opinions. As a non English native speaker I apologise for any mistake.
Most of the photographs are from the internet and belong to its authors. My use of them is only cultural. If someone is uncomfortable with their use, just notify it to me.
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