Rodney Eines on ringing the changes
Praise for the general excellence of the Sadler's Wells Ring, an extraordinary achievement and one of the most heart-warming Operatic events of the past twenty Years, has been deservedly hymned both here and in many Other places as it has been Painstakingly pieced together over the last three seasons. To repeat it all over again now that the Whole work has been assembled !n the right order for the first time Is plainly unnecessary, but inevitably more emerges, both from the piece and the performance, when It is played as a cycle.
Musically there have been some surprises. Reginald Goodall is Popularly supposed to favour slow sPeeds. I think it fairer to say that in the past we have become used to unusually fast speeds and that Mr Goodall's are in fact quite right. They move naturally, show nO seams, and, most important, they relate one to another. They are also related to the enunciation of the text. One particular instance always arouses comment — Siegfried's Forging Song, Which is indeed more leisurely than ever heard before. Yet Wagaer marks it "heavy and powerful, not too fast" and Goodall's pace is governed not by the opening, but by the more lyrical middle section, which does indeed repay graceful phrasing. If there is a tenor available with the generous tone and sheer musicianship of Alberto Remedios, then the speed is musically justified and dramatically convincing.
Elsewhere I find no evidence of a slow pulse, indeed quite the contrary. Most of The Valkyrie went at one hell of a lick, in the first half tempered, perhaps, to fit the particular talents of the Siegmund, Jon Weaving, who is a remarkably sensitive actor and singer, but who lacks vocal stamina. For the rest, the sense of Wotan's narration might have told more if Norman Bailey had had a little more time to point it, and the Valkyries' Ride, a racehorse sprint rather than a primeval charger's canter, meant that few of the words could get across and belied Goodall's comment on Radio 3 that the fast notes, too, must be heard. It was all simply too hurried. The orchestra was also having an off-night, and maybe this ruffled the maestro's otherwise imperturbable calm. Elsewhere in the cycle, the playing has been magnificent, though mercilessly loud in much of Twilight. In cycle torm, tne characterisation in depth so convincingly worked out by producers Byam Shaw and Blatchley in the individual operas coheres and develops. Norman Bailey's Wotan is at first a spell-bindingly repulsive power maniac; only in adversity does a streak of nobility emerge — in the Valkyrie narration — and only at his downfall in Siegfried is any sense of divinity revealed. Derek Hammond-Stroud's Alberich progresses from underprivileged and rather cosy lecher to vicious tyrant, pathetic in his fall, and then riveting in his unhinged malevolence after the twenty-year vigil outside Fafner's cave: " watching, waiting ... to strike," he hisses. Here are two of the most brilliant operatic performances it has been my good fortune to see. Or watch how the self-interest gradually creeps into the whining self-pity of Gregory Dempsey's Rhinegold mime, and how skilfully he indicates that the imminent prospect of success has driven him spectacularly mad by Siegfried Act 2. To remark that Remedios's unforced and wholly winning portrait of Siegfried is as accomplished as his singing is enough. His is by far the most difficult assignment in the whole work, and his triumph that most worthy of celebration; the bearlike hug in which he enveloped the diminutive maestro at the final curtain calls bore witness to all they had achieved together. If Rita Hunter does not quite qualify for this gallery of immortals, it is because her acting is of necessity a trifle impassive. This very quality pays off in the final pages, and it was in the last opera that her unique voice and broadbreathed technique found their top form.
When the opera is sung in English (and heard to be sung in English — in addition to those mentioned above Ann Howard, Anne Collins and Emil Belcourt are exemplary in this respect) you spend less time mentally translating the text and more on letting the meaning sink in. The way Wagner places his characters in their various settings presents a chilling view of human history. At the beginning, those natural elements so beloved of German romantics, earth, fire and water, are only just losing control of the world either by default (Rhinemaidens) or contamination (Erda and Loge). What might be called super-races, gods, dwarfs and giants, each identified, still, with elements, squabble over their inheritance. Humans appear in Valkyrie, and a human hero destroys the old order, In the final opera, God is dead, and mankind makes a depressingly familiar mess of the world, which has to be purged afresh by fire and water, Not very encouraging, and M. Pompidou please note.
And if Mr Heath wants to unveil the unacceptable face of capitalism, he could do worse than send a representative body from the TUC and CBI to Rhinegold. This appalling power struggle is presented in sickening detail — g, group of shifty, meanminded fascists manoeuvring themselves in and out of agreements, with each stage of the game exactly charted with surreptitious glances and hurried conferences. Many a weekly board meeting must sound like this. "You assured me I could escape from this contract," remarks managing-director Wotan to his freelance side-kick, Loge, whose apartness from the gods is emphasised as is his former connection with Alberich. And for once, quite rightly, Loge's partisanship of the Rhinemaidens' cause is presented not as cynical teasing but as genuine elemental solidarity.
Perhaps the most encouraging aspect of this Ring is its growth. Too often revivals of productions steadily decline in quality. Each part of the Ring is improving, so much so that one dreads any future change of personnel. Production detail is brought into tighter focus, and Ralph Koltai's stunning decor is adapted and freshly thought-through each time. This year, Siegfried has a new, more flattering hair style, and the Valkyries have found pretty glass hats. Rhinemaidens and Norns have much better costumes, and there is a new, more simple set for Twilight, Act 2. Fafner the dragon has been given a slinky black lame skin — he has indeed got his drag on. Having said which, I shall kindly leave the stage.
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