Considering the media storm of the last month, had Wagner been alive in recent times, it is likely that we wouldn’t have been watching his magnificent opera today. He would have been sacked unceremoniously for offending the morality of the moment. Unfaithful, politically obnoxious, deeply anti-Semitic, a persistent lecher who begot his daughter Isolde by another man’s wife, Wagner would have been part of the avalanche of men who have just lost their jobs and status because of their sexual misbehaviour. All I can say is, thank heavens those standards did not apply back then; we would have lost a masterpiece of masterpieces.
Yes, the composer was an awful man (egged on, according to her biography, by his even more awful wife, Cosima), but the artist is not the art. It is a hard decision to make, and calls for a much longer disquisition on the subject, but the fact that Wagner was a nasty individual cannot negate his music’s intrinsic value.
The production tonight came from the remarkable Opéra National de Lyon, which must be the pride of its home city as the Liceu is of Barcelona. The staging was sparse, abstract and evocative, creating a simple but perfect backdrop to the small number of performers. The simplicity worked to enhance and provide context for the action whilst in no way distracting from the singing. The opening act on the ship, with the motion of the waves in the background and a basically empty stage otherwise, gave a well-executed impression of a primitive sea voyage.
Josep Pons led the orchestra in an excellent performance, which is a particular accomplishment in a Wagner opera where music is much more than mere accompaniment for the singers. Mr. Pons is sometimes a trifle heavy-handed when it comes to Italian opera, but he gets it right when it comes to Wagner. My one gripe would be that there were moments when it seemed quite a struggle for the singers to be sufficiently audible over the passion of the pit.
The singers were all excellent. If anything, Sarah Connolly as Brangäne, was a revelation. I had not seen her perform before, but very much hope to hear her again. Iréne Theorin has never been a disappointment, and practically owns the role of Isolde. Stefan Vinke, as Tristan, was sonorous and persuasive. The role is not an easy one, and his moaning and groaning (the fault of the role, not the singer) in the final act is a long dull part that we have to live through until, at last, Isolde’s ship sails in. It is just something to be borne, like the concluding part of Der Rosenkavalier (1910), where, in the last act, there is a long, unglamorous lead-up to a brilliant finale that cannot be missed.
Albert Dohmen as the cuckolded king, Mark, was vocally excellent and most touching in his performance, as were both Greer Grimsley as Kurwenal and the turncoat Melot, sung by Francisco Vas.
All in all, it was a dramatic and highly pleasing evening. And the audience showed its appreciation vociferously.
Upcoming, from January 7th to 28th, is an opera of a very different kind: Donizetti’s lighthearted L’elisir d’amore (1832). From the publicity, it looks as if it’s not going to be a classical production: motorbikes did not play a role in that era. But it should be fun, though it will have to work hard to be more delightful than the production with Rolando Villazón a few years back.