This time I am recycling much of my review of the live stream of the Bayerische Staatsoper of 2022. The reason for my visit to the house on the Isar is the superior cast and conductor as compared to the premiere. What can be seen on stage is still one big lie but the sound coming from the orchestra pit and from the throats of soloists and members of the chorus is an experience of the first order. Despite the ridiculous staging, the Munich audience responded with a standing ovation. I should hope that the Bayerische Staatsoper does not draw the wrong conclusions from this.
"Why are people so stupid to want someone to redeem them, especially in this day and age?" According to Kornél Mundruczó, no extraterrestrial force but the people themselves choose their charismatic leaders from within their own ranks. That is certainly true, but that is not what this romantic opera is about. The director realizes very well that the music tells a different story. It does not prevent him from adressing the opera's "problematic action" by turning the meaning of most of the characters upside down. The result is flat, rarely engaging, partly forced. It is a weak concept that leads to poor staging, a predictable outcome as always with directors who do not believe in Wagner. To "not want" to stage Wagner is beyond dilettantism and is highly problematic.
Lohengrin is set by Wagner within the climate of an impending war situation. Unfortunately, for our directors, certain forms of war are taboo. They fear being sucked into the composer's morally indefensible quagmire. Heinrich der Vogler became famous as the unifier of the Germanic states of his time. Unfortunately, he was also one of Adolf Hitler's idols. And so most directors trying to stage Lohengrin today don't know what to do with Heinrich. Many productions then resort to abstraction to hide the historical facts. By sweeping the war rhetoric and expression of national consciousness in Lohengrin under the rug, they may think they are morally elevating themselves above the composer's intentions. It is a combination of cowardice and hypocrisy, and it leads time and time again to artistic failures. As in this case.
And so King Heinrich is once again a weak ruler, uncritically believing everything from those around him, when in fact it is a sign of strength that he has a listening ear for everyone and lets God decide in a matter that is beyond his judgment. Mundruczó's Heinrich is nothing like a king, not even a scouts leader. He is a ballsy joker on sneakers.
We learn that Ortrud is not a one-dimensional witch but the most human figure in the opera. She is also right when she refuses to pay homage to a new God. Mundruczó even finds her sympathetic, despite the "furchtbare Grossartigkeit" and "entsetzlicher Wahnsinn" of this specimen of the female politician that Wagner found so repulsive. Elsa is a traumatized person, mentally unstable. She does not know how to escape the suspicion of murder and she does not know what happened to her when her savior ("aus Glanz und Wonne") is suddenly in front of her.
The prelude reveals a depressed crowd sitting on two small hills under a tree, heads bowed and uniformly dressed in pastel-colored sweat shirts and jeans. Ortrud even in a jogging suit. No one in the audience is as poorly dressed as the masses on stage (costumes : Anna Axer Fijalkowska). Who is this crowd? And what makes them straighten up when the first crescendo rises from the orchestra pit? It is the first but not the last scene that takes place in an absolute vacuum. The staging problem of the arrival of the swan is cleverly avoided by selecting Elsa's savior from within the men's ranks. The toe-curling moment of the first act is the duel fought with two spark-spitting angle grinders!
A Renaissance portal with balcony and solid oak door, flanked by two street lamps and shrouded in red mood lighting, is the setting for the second act's revenge duet. The people stepping up an invisible staircase for minutes in transparent plastic raincoats is rather obtrusive but provides an appealing image. The scheming couple is given little profile, the duet is poorly directed but Martin Gantner and Anja Kampe manage to raise it to the first highlight of the second act. From this point on a succession of highlights will follow, for example, when Elsa and Ortrud smoke a joint during their unearthly beautiful duet "Es gibt ein Glück," congenially supported by the orchestra.
"Macht Platz! Der König naht!" sung by four boys (Tölzer Knabenchor) from the balcony added a nice touch. "Gesegnet soll sie schreiten" failed to be a procession but became a celebration with red garlands hanging from the balcony and from the 26 opened windows. It reminded me of Nazi kitsch. Elsa is given a wedding dress with wings like a golden butterfly that she throws back off like a straitjacket at the beginning of the third act. With lipstick she draws a question mark on her chest.
Only once do Elsa and Lohengrin find themselves alone but the director allows the chorus to watch. How irritatingly redundant are Telramund's reactions among the chorus present in the "bridal chamber." He becomes the victim of a collective stoning: the group dynamic is unstoppable, the director seems to say. As great as the fanfares sound (and now they can be heard from the highest balcony in the auditorium) they disappear into thin air because they have no meaning in the absence of the military context. The giant meteorite that descends from the stage tower during the grail narrative is linked to the extraterrestrial after all. It looks like a UFO taking Elsa to Montsalvat after the people, Lohengrin included, have succumbed under the eyes of young Gottfried, "Schützer von Brabant" (“Führer” according to the subtitles).
Benjamin Bruns is exactly what you expect from a Lohengrin. Beautiful, virile timbre, flawless diction, and interpretatively strong with all the required accents in "Das süsse Lied verhallt" and "Höchstes Vertrauen." It all comes easily to him and he makes it to the end without difficulty. Already in the first act Rachel Willis-Sorensen as Elsa stands out in unexpected riveting moments. The voice is very focused, making it effortless to hear even in quiet passages. She leads the grand finales with the chorus. With her warm soprano and her beautiful, very sensuous dramatic outbursts, she is an ideal Elsa. Martin Gantner also sings a quasi-ideal Telramund. His was a very lived-in rendition in which the text was insanely well-articulated. That he left an even greater impression in Zurich (Homoki, 2017) must be due to the intimacy of the house as the voice does not always project sufficiently. Anja Kampe as Ortrud was in good voice. The duet with Telramund was spared the ugly register transitions that often mar her performance. Her final hysterical intervention ("Fahr heim!") was well controlled. One often hears it far more chaotic. Mozart specialist Andrè Schuen has a cultivated baritone but does not yet seem entirely familiar with articulating Wagner correctly. Ryan Speedo Green sings King Heinrich with a rather unclear timbre, and his disregard for consonants does not improve his delivery. Nor is he a bass.
The choir was fantastic. Dynamically, this was highly differentiated : particularly atmospheric in the quieter passages, restrained but with full effect in the fortes, always transparent and never shrill. "Gesegnet soll sie schreiten" and "Welch ein Geheimnis" ended up as real highlights.
It is with incredible control that the Wagner-experienced Sebastian Weigle leads the prelude to its climax. The brass remains controlled, never becoming garish or vulgar. Under his direction, the Bayerisches Staatsorchester effortlessly maintains this stunning demonstration of total control. For example in the build-up to the fanfares of the second and third the act or in "Es gibt ein Glück" and the subsequent interlude. Always in perfect balance with the soloists.