Martyn Brabbins, conductor; Richard Jones, director; Stewart Laing, designer, Adam Silverman, lighting designer; Akhila Krishnan, video designer. John Reylea, Wotan; Leigh Melrose, Alberich. Frederick Ballentine, Loge; Madeleine Shaw, Fricka; John Findon, Mime; Christine Rice, Erda; Katie Lowe, Freia; Julian Hubbard, Froh; Blake Denson, Donner; Simon Bailey, Fasolt; James Cresswell, Fafner; Eleanor Dennis, Woglinde; Idunnu Münch, Wellgunde; Katie Stevenson, Flosshilde
This production was one of the clearest narrative accounts I’ve seen of Rhinegold, and managed to be both that, and extraordinarily inventive, at the same time, never cluttering or obscuring the action, and always using references in the text as the basis for imaginative expansion. A good example of this occurs at the beginning, when we come into the theatre; there’s a big tree centre-stage, which must be the World Ash Tree. Before the prelude starts there’s a brief silent piece of action, when men, clearly dressed in progressive historical periods’ clothing, gradually denude the tree of its branches, the final figure being Wotan, who of course has used a bough of the World Ash Tree to make his spear. It’s a very clever piece of stage enactment which shows very clearly the way in which in Wagner’s view our society has gradually eroded the sacred basis of life, and forgotten its roots in the natural world.
The basic set is a spangly backdrop, which can represent the Rhine but also provided an effective background for Nibelheim and the mountain top near Valhalla. Scene 1 has the Rhine maidens as lycra-clad gym-users, while Alberich is a young man in T shirt and baggy blue shorts. The Rhinegold is personalised (and there is justification for this in the way the Rhine Maidens refer to ‘he’ rather than ‘it’ at points), a kind of humanoid baby-like puppet, which is scrunched up by Alberich at the end of the scene into a formless mass. This is, again, an aspect of the dehumanising world of Nibelheim. Scenes 2 and 4 have the same spangly backdrop but in addition a series of giant candy-floss sticks (or maybe mushrooms) which, however strange, are quite effective at giving a sense of decadence and aloof living – they vaguely reminded me of the ceremonial umbrellas West African kings have, but without the ritual and ceremonial connotations. Three parts of the spectacle are particularly effective
- the mass production factory of Nibelheim, with the ENO chorus costumed in identical white T shirts and baggy blue shorts, and with harsh fluorescent lighting;
- the rainbow bridge scene – there’s no bridge but hundreds of pieces of coloured glitter, which sparkle like a rainbow as they descend;
- and the image of Valhalla which suddenly emerges from the darkness right at the end, not a fortress or palace but a prison. In a really clever coup-de-theatre, the perspective suddenly moves from the gods walking towards Valhalla to their being inside it, rushing to block the windows and entry points to prevent any access by the Rhine maidens protesting outside
I was very impressed by the way Richard Jones and his production team stuck to the text in what’s offered on stage. If there’s a reference to a spear, there’s a spear; there’s a ‘real’ dragon and toad; the gold blocks really do block the sight of Freia; Donner has a real hammer. When there are expansions from the text they are fittingly, sometimes amusingly done (e.g. the lorry Fafner drives onto the stage to pick up the gold) and sometimes very effectively enhancing the action (the black clad dancers supporting the Rhine maidens in their swimming). The brutality shown on stage – by Alberich and a team of duplicate Alberich-like overseers, or in the killing of Fasolt (the nastiest I’ve seen) – are part of an overarching vision; everything coheres. The whole production emphasised how much better a text-driven approach works than those playing faster and looser with what Wagner wrote (e.g the Bayreuth production last summer, whose overall concept was not that dissimilar), while still remaining contemporary, and, where appropriate, funny. I thought what Jones has produced was rather clearer and more effective than the Keith Warner production at Covent Garden, too. I suppose my one question mark would be over the pink pyjama’d Erda and her three school-girl Norns…………..
As with Jones’ Valkyrie in late 2021, the other thing which impressed in this production was the handling of individuals and their reactions to each other – meticulously crafted and thoughtful. Examples of this would be Wotan kissing Erda passionately (appropriate given that she is subsequently the mother of the Valkyries), the dissociation Freia is shown to feel from the gods because of the treatment of Fasolt, and the affection she demonstrates towards him, and the way in which the Rhimemaidens credibly flirt with Alberich
I did wonder how what we saw on stage in Rhinegold related to the snowy, bleak, wooden huts and survivalist scenes in Jones’ ‘Valkyrie’. Let us hope we have the chance to find out, though the chances of this Ring continuing are wholly dependent on the continuation of the ENO in its current form, or on the Met agreeing to continue to fund it (and, despite my unwillingness to fly anywhere, I probably would fly to New York for a Jones/Met Ring cycle, if it ever happened).
So what about individual performances and the music? There were a range of outstanding performances:
- Alberich – Leigh Melrose had a terrifying presence on stage once possessed of the Ring, and was truly manic in the way he charged around stage with a truncheon. His voice was lighter maybe than some Alberich’s but he used it very powerfully, including at times a bordering on sprech-stimme
- Loge – Frederick Ballentine was very effective (I guess it is a gift of a role, and I have never really seen an unimpressive Loge) in projecting his words, dominating the stage and displaying his tricksy dis-association from the gods. With the help of Jones, Loge’s commitment to the Rhinenaidens’ cause of getting their lost gold back came across more effectively than in other productions I have seen.
- Wotan – John Relyea was a commanding presence; he has a beautiful sonorous voice that makes him a very credible Wotan. Again, his emotional movements from triumphalism to despair were very credibly captured. I have a particularly strong memory of Wotan lying prostrate on the floor, in collapse after the killing of Fasolt
- Mime – John Findon is a big bloke and so a surprising bit of casting for Mime, but he gave an unusually sharp character sketch of an exploited worker, again in regulation white T shirt and blue shorts. His diction was the best of all the cast, and he used his voice flexibly and (in describing the Nibelung past) movingly
But the rest of the cast were good too – there were no weak links (and including some casting from strength like Erda being sung by Christine Rice). Donner (Blake Denson)’s voice. for instance, made a splendid sound in his big hammer-wielding act before the rainbow bridge appears.
If I had one question mark over the performance it would be the conducting. The orchestral playing was excellent (beautiful oboe playing when Fasolt sings about his loneliness, some stunning horn playing), but I sometimes felt there was a lack of drive, a lack of a sense of overwhelming climaxes and contrasts compared to some readings. However conceivably this might have been where I was sitting – great view of the stage, slightly occluded view (and therefore audio-occluded as well) of the orchestra.
All in all, though, this was very memorable. And, at the very least, the musical leadership let the story unfold naturally and underpinned the narrative effectively. Apart from the Birmingham Rhinegold in July 2021 it’s probably the most effective production I’ve seen of this work.
John's musical journey 