The Wagner Ring Cycle (Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung) once again rang through the hallowed halls of Müpa Budapest on June 20-23.
This monumental work, through its many mythological characters’ soliloquies, arguments, triumphs and losses, and accompanied by a sumptuous orchestral score, reflects the grandiose and pathetic aspects of humanity’s motivations. For me, it has always been a wide-spectrum exposition of socio-political history. Its consistent internal thread is driven by the greed for gold – specifically a gold ring — which functions as the catalyst for evil behavior.
Conducted by Ádám Fischer and directed by Hartmut Schörghofer (with dramaturgs Christian Martin Fuchs and Dr. Christian Baier), this year’s Ring of the Nibelungen offered a splendid cast of international singers, most of whom are at the peak of their powers. These four scores demand that the singers, as well as the orchestra players, have jet fuel in their veins.
Here is my personal experience and critical response to this year’s 15.5-hour tetralogy.
The Production
Having attended every Ring production at Müpa since 2017, I consider this one to have been a comparatively refined version of what had been produced here since the earlier years of experimentation to mount a work like this on a concert hall stage, as opposed to an actual opera house. Even though Müpa’s stage is limited by comparison, the Ring’s directors have manifested clever solutions for maximizing the space using minimal means – even the non-use of stage props (Wotan’s spear being the only exception). Much is left to our collective imaginations.
In place of a traditional set, large video screens provide a continuous visual backdrop (fashioned by Szupermodern Filmstúdió Budapest) that creates an almost sentient back wall for the stage, yet it never overshadows the actors. This year in particular, the screen images were less distracting and more in tune with the actors’ thoughts and actions.
As a silent participant in the ultra-minimalist set, the screens became a global gyroscope by showing multiple panoramas of Planet Earth. Laboratory-style X-ray views of creatures from the underground, bulletin boards of ancient runes, flowing blood to indicate murder, and David Lynch-like red curtains were only a small fraction of the many images shown.
Importantly, the intuitive selection of the images exhibited a direct reflection of the drama’s meteorology: the sudden appearance of a dust storm, or a heavy rain pelting the city, when the plot turned to the Dark Side. Magically, the screen would frequently transform itself into a giant aquarium posing as the river Rhein, the home territory of the Rheinmaidens, who own the gold.
The large cast of dancers, choreographed by Gábor Vida, used virtually every part of the stage and screen. They appeared as animals, reptiles, monstrous snakes, and other creatures of the underworld, as well as reflections of some of the singers’ characterizations, particularly in two solo dancers, one man and one young boy, dressed in red suit jackets, representing the spirit of Loge, the god of fire.
The Singing
The German Helden-tenor, Stefan Vinke, whose jet fuel supply never ran dry, was the energetic epicenter of the whole cycle. As Siegfried the fearless dragon-slayer, he exalted with boundless vigor, indefatigable high notes, and continuous charming charisma – even his brilliantly white teeth gleamed in the spotlights when he smiled. Vinke clearly owned the stage, and the audience basked in his magnificence, too.
The cast this year included some exciting new singers. As Fafner the unfriendly giant and as Hunding the abusive husband of Sieglinde, basso Jongmin Park’s hugely resonant tones were almost too beautiful to be menacing, but his vocal power was unmistakably splendid.
As Fafner’s brother Fasolt who gets killed early on, Tijl Faveyts impressed with equal sonic muscle. Birger Radde’s portrayal of the scheming Gunter displayed a golden tenor that beamed brightly throughout his excellent portrait of a man with a skewed value system. Magnus Vigilius as Siegmund was equally compelling with his bright, clear tenor.
The return engagements of Magdalena Anna Hofmann as Brünnhilde (in Siegfried only), and Jochen Schmeckenbecher as the sneering, lecherous rascal Alberich with his canine bodyguards, were especially delightful for her thrilling laser-beam clarity and his vigorous acting, respectively. Karine Babajanyan stood out for her palpably emotional portrayal of the ill-fated Sieglinde as an actual human being – a contrast to all the superhuman goddesses. Lilla Horti’s appealing vocalism did justice to the two roles of the goddess Freia and Gutrune in the Gebichung family. The three Rheinmaidens, the three Norns, and all eight Valkyries were exceptionally superb.
The veteran Fricka, Atala Schöck, was rock-solid, always sonorous and authentic in her portrayal of Wotan’s wife who teaches life lessons to her philandering and ethically confused husband. Johan Reuter sang Wotan (and Wanderer), flanked by his two giant ravens, with great emotional finesse and dignity. Iréne Theorin, as the first of the two Brünnhildes, found her footing in only a few moments – the best was the opening ‘Hoi-yo-to-ho!’ in Die Walküre, in which she nailed every high C with precision. In many other scenes, however, her vocalism (and diction) faltered enough to suggest that she may need vocal repair.
The biggest surprise for me was Dorottya Láng as one of the Valkyries who came to counsel Brünnhilde with urgent messages (in Götterdämmerung). Láng appeared in a wheelchair because of a foot injury that day. Despite this inconvenience, her stunning vocalism nevertheless captured rapt attention as she described Wotan’s troubles as a broken man. Láng’s personal pain seemed to embody and merge both her own and Wotan’s despair at the same time. This artist’s vocal color, tonal focus, and authentic expression are the qualities of a very promising young Wagnerian. The audience’s excited reaction to her at the curtain call echoed mine.
The music
I fully admit I’m a French Horn addict. The sound of four of them is exciting, but hearing eight of them (with a few Wagner tubas thrown in) sends me over the moon. I was not disappointed with how the Hungarian Radio Symphony Orchestra delivered this divine music under Fischer’s guidance. He allowed the horn section (which is quite busy throughout the score) to bloom like roses on steroids. Apart from them, the entire orchestra was continuously glorious, from many woodwind solos that mirror or foreshadow a character’s thoughts, and remarkable sectional cohesion (example: the oft-recurring sinuous viola theme describing evil intention).
I believe Wagner understood the profound power of resonance to be deeply transforming. As testament, many devoted Wagnerites from around the world attended. During an intermission, I met a man from St. Petersburg who toted a large notebook with the Ring’s complete script and synopsis in his own language. He took joy in noting all the Leitmotifs: “there are 86 in the cycle,” he announced. He was formally dressed in a black suit and bow-tie: “out of respect to both Wagner and to Maestro Fischer,” he said.
The final moments of Götterdämmerung were dominated by the mighty roar of a huge chorus (Hungarian Radio Choir, plus the Budapest Studio Choir) and fortissimo orchestral power with maximum timpani action. The final screen video was that of an atomic bomb, but in flaming red; the end of their contentious world was not silent. As Baier writes in the program notes about Schörghofer’s viewpoint: “[This] has almost educational characteristics. It is applied where Wagner himself localized the root of the disaster – with humankind itself.”
Thanks to the enormous depth of the composer’s fascinating and descriptive orchestrations, as well as the jet-fueled singers and conductor, this work, once again, gave us another exhilarating trip to Valhalla.
