Director, Tim Albery; Choreography, Venusberg Scene, Jasmin Vardimon; Set Designer. Michael Levine; Costume Designer, Jon Morrell; Lighting Designer, David Finn. Conductor, Sebastian Weigle; Tannhäuser, Stefan Vinke; Elisabeth, Lise Davidsen; Wolfram Von Eschinbach, Gerald Finley; Venus, Ekaterina Gubanova; Hermann, Mika Kares; Biterolf, Michael Kraus; Walther Von Der Vogelweide, Egor Zhuravskii
I have not seen this work live many times. I went to a performance in the first run of the Goetz Friedrich Tannhauser at Bayreuth in 1972 with Gwyneth Jones, and saw a 1974 performance of the same production there. I think I also saw another Covent Garden production in the 70’s conducted by Colin Davis, also with Gwyneth Jones. But since then the only performance I’ve been to was one of this production in 2016, when I got to see two acts of it, and then had to leave to catch a late night flight from Heathrow to Bangladesh. I have seen many more productions of, for instance the Flying Dutchman. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that modern Europe finds it quite difficult to know what to make of Tannhäuser. This is not to say it can’t work in a modern production – the Goetz Friedrich one was a brilliant example of what might be possible. But it is more difficult.
This production – by director Tim Albery – didn’t get in the way, particularly, but also wasn’t very helpful in interpreting what was happening on stage and what was being said and sung. The focus seemed to be on Tannhauser as creative artist and how we turn ‘life’ into art. The set of the Venusberg was a replica of the Covent Garden proscenium arch and curtain (in all its plushness and E11R insignia – which needs unstitching). The ballet begins with a sequence of men sitting on a chair looking at the replica stage, and then being drawn into the action of the female dancers. The end of Act 1 sees Elizabeth, who hasn’t formally entered the action yet, coming on stage and settling down in a seat to watch the action. Act 2 has the Wartburg Hall as the same proscenium arch, now collapsed and in ruins, though at points stage footlights come on, and the real proscenium arch is illuminated. The last act seems to be set on a high snowy pass but with, arguably, some of the very last remnants of the proscenium arch still visible. At the end of the opera, again a spectator comes on stage to face the chorus. There are various bits of ‘stagey’ props – a tree at the end of Act 1 and the sprouting Pope’s staff at the end of Act 3. The minnesingers all wear dinner jackets in Acts 1 and 2, while the residents of the Wartburg seem rather poverty-stricken and possibly Slavonic in clothing . Quite what this is telling us about the work I am not sure. Undoubtedly the Landgrave has a high view of art and its power to heal; undoubtedly art can also – particularly in relation to Wagner – be a drug that deflects people from attending to their real needs and those of others. And also artists can – again, Wagner particularly – create great art but treat people appallingly, as Tannhauser does Elizabeth. But this theme doesn’t seem particularly pursued after the Venusberg and seems to become increasingly irrelevant. More to the point, it doesn’t really grapple with the heart of the work, which, like other Wagner operas, is essentially about using the combined power of music, words and design to give people an experience which would be something like a substitute for the declining power of organised religion in the minds of contemporary audiences, using myths as a powerful reminder of what matters most to human beings and exploring the recurring themes of redemption, atonement and salvation – how people are ‘saved’ to be the best they can be. A production that simply ignores God, salvation, redemption, or at any rate doesn’t seek to reinterpret these concepts for a modern audience, is not really going to work in this opera, I think, particularly since it is much more obviously Christian in language than, say, Parsifal. I was struck by how many of the themes and language of Parsifal and Tristan appear in the work – for instance Elizabeth is described as having, as a result of Tannhauser’s rejection, a ‘wound which will never heal’, like Amfortas. So all in all, not a very satisfactory production. I also felt in this revival it seemed a bit under-directed, in terms of a certain aimlessness in movement on stage, particularly in Act 3. I could see this work being performed in various ways – the Wartburg as oppressive, as a saga of Wagner’s life; as a dream of a crazed Elizabeth…etc – but Tim Alberys way really didn’t work.
Musically, thankfully, things were a lot better. Reviews of the conducting were mixed – some felt there was insufficient energy and drive, some much more positive. I thought Sebastian Weigle’s handling of the orchestra was very good – he went for musicality over hyper-emotion, and there was a lovely lilt to much of the playing, bringing out details you don’t always hear and allowing the music to flow. It’s true maybe some of the Venusberg music in Act 1 could have done with a bit more bite and thrust, but on the whole I liked his conducting.
There were actually many stars in this production, not just the obvious one. Among them:
- The chorus and the Tiffin School boys choir, who sounded magnificent throughout
- The dancers in the Venusberg – the choreography was excellent and the dancers spectacularly skillful, somersaulting across the extended table used as the basis for the dance sequences
- The Finnish bass Mika Kares as the Landgrave had a beautiful voice and excellent diction
- Gerald Finley sang wonderfully well as Wolfram, colouring sensitively every word he sang, and creating some of those operatic moments in Act 3, where time seems to stop, as a singer draws out a lyrical line
- Ekaterina Gubanova as Venus was apologised for at the beginning, but to me sounded in powerful voice and was very effective
But, of course, there has to be a particular emphasis on the performance of Lise Davidsen, who is just very special indeed. A commanding presence, a powerful voice totally under control, beautiful shading of words, a real ability to not ‘just’ sing but really inhabit a role – hers was a wonderful performance.
Tannhauser was having the same vocal health problems as he has been in other performances in this run. As in the first performance, Stefan Vinke was out of voice and acted the role while Norbert Ernst sung from the side of the stage. Given the routineness of the stage direction, it was difficult to see why Mr Ernst wasn’t just asked to take over – maybe a contractual thing? Mr Ernst I thought did quite well – his voice is not over-powering in volume, and maybe has a lack of variation of tone at times, but it is a tough role and he got through it without bellowing and with some nice lyrical moments. I would have been perfectly happy to see him fully in the role (I understand that in at least one of the later performances that is exactly what happened!).
All in all it was lovely to hear this work live, and particularly Act 3 live for the first time in 50 years!