The
Royal Opera House’s 2010 Tim Albery production of Tannhäuser is just enjoying its
first revival – and if it’s flawed, then that’s little surprise, since the
opera itself has serious problems. Yet for all its issues, the music is sublime
– and this production has moments that made me feel as though I were having a
religious experience.
First
though, a very brief outline of the plot.
Tannhäuser
is lured to Venusburg by the goddess Venus for a good time. However, he
eventually gets bored and leaves for the real world and Wurtzburg, in spite of
the protestations of the goddess.
Once
there, he’s recognised by old friends, who tell him that his old love,
Elisabeth, has effectively cut herself off from society since he left suddenly
and inexplicably.
He
agrees to compete in a singing contest – since he often won in the past and
Elisabeth loved the contests before his sudden departure.
However,
nobody knows where’s he’s spent the intervening time – and when they find out,
through the singing contest, they denounce him as a blasphemer and threaten to kill
him.
Though
Elisabeth is devastated, she pleads to save his life, and instead of death, he
goes with a group to Rome on a pilgrimage to seek salvation.
On
the pilgrims’ return, Elisabeth cannot find him and dies of a broken heart.
Tannhäuser then turns up, explaining that the Pope rejected his penance, and
saying he’s going back to Venus. However, now in heaven, Elisabeth has pleaded
for his soul and her pleas have been answered.
Okay
– set aside the plot. Wagner himself made it quite clear that he did not mean
it to be taken literally in a religious sense, but that it simply reflected his
own despair with the (then) modern world of the 1840s.
If
only he’d known the joys of social media and reality TV ...
Anyway,
if the plot is not divine, the music is. It almost certainly includes the best
music for choruses that he ever wrote. There are some stunning arias here too,
with plenty of evidence (it it’s needed) that he did NOT just write ‘shouty’
stuff.
So
what’s wrong with this production?
It's all about the sex – Venusburg |
Albery
decided to incorporate a ballet into the overture – a choreographed orgy.
Now
it’s important to note that it isn’t actually completely out of place.
For
the Paris version of the opera in 1861, Wagner was asked to revise it and
agreed, on the grounds that he believed that success at the Paris Opéra was
important for his career. The requirements included having a ballet, as was the
tradition of the house.
However,
Wagner being Wagner, rather than place it, as per convention, in the second
act, he put it in the first, where it made some sense in the sensual world of
Venus. And it was, in fact, a bacchanale.
It
caused problems, though, since the moneyed members of the Jockey Club, who
expected to turn up late, see the ballet (they were often dating dancers) and
then bugger off, were peeved that they would either have to change their habits
or miss it.
Thus
they organised a barracking from the audience. At the third performance, the
uproar caused a 15-minute hiatus. Wagner withdrew the opera and it marked the end
of his hopes of acclaim at the centre of the operatic world.
He
made further changes to the version that was performed in Vienna in 1875 – and
it’s this version that is most often used today, albeit with the reinstatement
of Walther’s solo from the second act.
Wagner
was never completely happy with the work: he tinkered with it for the rest of
his life, and just three weeks before his death in 1883, his wife Cosima noted
in her diary that he was saying that he “owes the world Tannhäuser”.
But
all of this said, I do not believe that the ballet works.
First,
because the overture is beautiful and the dance interrupts it.
And
second, because in emphasising sex over anything else, it also ignores what
Venus makes quite clear is the other gift that she has given Tannhäuser –
godhood.
Not
only is sinful – it is downright blasphemous.
And
at the same time, it is also a reflection of the nature of the artist.
Artists
create – and within orthodox religion, an act of creation by anyone other than
the Judeo-Christian God is heresy.
There
are reasons that artists have long been outlaws in ‘civilised’ Western society.
Christian Geherer as Wolfram |
Wagner
himself has been mistrusted from his own lifetime on by people who realised
that he created music that gave people an almost religious experience – people
who believed that that was close to daemonic.
I
had that in my mind as I watched, plus the obvious profane v purity theme, plus
the duality of human experience, plus the entire idea of setting up paganism
(Venus) against Christianity (Elisabeth is arguably a Mary substitute).
So
there’s a bit of context – and also offers just one illustration of why a
Wagner opera can be such an intellectually stimulating experience.
To
add to the drama of our visit, though, our eponymous tragic hero was Peter
Seiffert, a globally-celebrated Wagner tenor who recorded the role on a
Grammy-winning version with Daniel Barenboim.
He
was far from bad, but it’s fair to say he is not what he once was – few of us
are.
Unfortunately,
though, he couldn’t continue after the second act. Luckily, young (in opera
terms) heldentenor Neal Cooper (the nephew of legendary boxer Sir Henry, who
trod on my foot at a TV do once and was an exemplary gent in apologising) was
in the audience with his wife – and stood in for the last act.
Never
mind getting your costume and make up on, these singers have to seriously warm
up. It must have been chaos backstage.
But
he was wonderful, and has a really fine voice – and received a fabulous and
completely deserved ovation at the end.
I
very much look forward to hearing more of him.
After
the orgy ballet, the staging is essentially simple – we have a theatre within a
theatre (more to consider philosophically), but by and large, the music is left
to speak for itself and that, I think, is really how it should be.
Of
the rest of the cast, I thought that both Sophie Koch as Venus and Emma Bell as
Elisabeth were superb.
But
baritone Christian Gerhaher as Wolfram (who won an Olivier Award for his turn
as Wolfram in 2010) was the real highlight – almost certainly the finest
individual singing I have ever heard live; a voice of extraordinary clarity and
warmth and beauty.
And
the chorus – often offstage, giving the music a sense of
the ethereal – gave me goosebumps from straight after the overture and were simply superb throughout. But it was at
the act three finale that I finally had my first live Wagner religious
experience, as my entire insides convulsed and I found the tears unstoppable.
This
wasn’t sadness at the plot. It was a response to the extraordinary beauty of
the music.
Wagner
was a sorcerer. And more than a century and a half on, when it’s done well, his
music can still cast a spell that leaves pretty much anything else looking pale
by comparison.
So,
the 207th performance of Tannhäuser at Covent Garden (the first one
was on 6 May 1876) was certainly far from perfect. But as we’ve learned, the
work itself is not.
Yet
if I were still entertaining any doubts that I really ‘got’ Wagner, they were
blown away on Thursday night by a quite wonderful few hours.
And
it’s only just over a month until I see and experience more ...
No comments:
Post a Comment