Review | Bayreuth Festival 2024: Wagner revisited

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One of the most unique features of the annual Bayreuth Festival dedicated to the operas of Richard Wagner is the opportunity it affords to revisit productions. Most big time European summer opera festivals pride themselves on presenting brand new stagings each year (though times may be changing given this year’s revival of Katie Mitchell’s 2016 production of Pelléas et Mélisande at Aix-en-Provence). But the idea of reviving and refining productions at Bayreuth is part of its DNA thanks to the Werkstatt (workshop) process initiated by Wieland Wagner in the 1950s. Stage directors are encouraged to hone their ideas as productions are revived in the successive seasons after their premiere. 

5 Wagner operas, one week

This year, I got to witness the fruits of this process with three Bayreuth stagings: Tobias Kratz’s Tannhaůser as well as Valentin Schwartz’s Das Rheingold and Die Walkůre. It was my first encounter with Jay Scheib’s 2023 Parsifal, and Thorleifu Örn Arnarsson’s Tristan und Isolde was introduced this summer. With the two Ring operas, it was very much a case of time softening some pretty intense initial reactions while Kratz’s vision seemed to have lost some of its spark. The two new-to-me stagings were remarkably tame in the grander scheme of German director-led Regietheater

Bayreuth

Andreas Schager in the title role of Bayreuth Festival’s Parsifal. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Parsifal augmented, August 17

Premiered in 2023, Jay Scheib’s Parsifal quickly became infamous for incorporating augmented reality technology into the audience experience. This has to be one of the most extensive uses of AR in the opera world, and in many ways, it adds a level of visual virtuosity that is undeniably impressive. Kitted out with a pair of AR glasses, one is subjected to flying spears, a pathetic (and huge) dying swan, vast canyons and fields that extend the physical stage and a cliched, sexy Kundry avatar who would be more at home in a video game.

AR tech

Although the Festival does its best to adjust devices to an individual’s eyeglass prescription, I found that wearing the AR glasses dimmed, and unfocused the stage action. It also put up an emotional distance between the performers. Expense understandably prevents the Festival from providing every audience member with AR glasses, but a quick visual survey of those sitting around me revealed that most people weren’t wearing them. At times, the AR experience was thrilling but it remains to be seen how widespread its use becomes due to high costs, and questionable artistic payback.

Bayreuth

Matthew Newlin (4th esquire, back left), Derek Welton (Amfortas), Jorge Rodríguez-Norton (3rd esquire, front right), Chorus of the Bayreuth Festival in Parsifal. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

In addition to the AR, much of the stage action is projected onto a large, upstage screen. During Amfortas’s first scene for example, we witness a prolonged cleaning of his wound in gruesome close-up. Combined with the huge cadre of singing actors onstage, it’s a lot of visual stimulation. Otherwise, Scheib offers relatively straightforward storytelling. There’s even a more-or-less representational grail (more like a pottery chalice) that gets unveiled at the key moments indicated by Wagner’s score. 

Bayreuth

Jordan Shanahan (Klingsor), Ekaterina Gubanova (Kundry),
Margaret Plummer, Evelin Novak, Flurina Stucki, Catalina Bertucci, Betsy Horne,
Marie Henriette Reinhold, (Klingsor’s Zaubermädchen), Andreas Schager
(Parsifal), Chorus of the Bayreuth Festival in Parsifal. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

At the beginning of Act 2, Klingsor’s realm is surrounded by a huge fortified AR wall with only a small cut-out window for the evil wizard, all of which miraculously shifts sideways in an instant. The Flowermaidens wear brightly coloured 1970s-inspired floral shifts, pantsuits and fluorescent pink wigs (special mention to Canadian soprano Vanessa Lanch, who has been a member of Bayreuth’s storied chorus for several seasons.) Water is a prominent feature with a pool that acts as Amfortas’s bath in Act 1; a sort of seduction grotto in Act 2 and finally, a polluted cesspool in Act 3. Here, there is a sense of decay, as if the knights of the grail have lost their purpose. Environmental damage is signalled by AR projections of flying plastic bags and bottles.

In general, this year’s Festival offered singing actors drawn from the top drawer of international opera talent. Tenor Andreas Schager, who made the news earlier in August for running into vocal difficulties, sounded secure and relatively fresh. Dessed in a red safety vest and work pants, he conveyed Parsifal’s youthfulness and impetuosity in Act 1. Schager’s interactions with Ekaterina Gubanova’s Kundry in the last act were especially touching, more like an embrace with his long lost mother than with Act 2’s sexy siren.

Ekaterina Gubanova (Kundry) in Bayreuth Festival’s Parsifal. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Gubanova herself sang well enough, though with a fair amount of loose tone higher in her range, and with less clarity of text than is ideal. As Amfortas, baritone Derek Welton projected anguish with robust tone that only lacked the degree of light and shade that would have helped him convey suffering more through vocal means. Nevertheless, an estimable portrayal. Baritone Jordan Shanahan was very effective as a high camp, high-heeled Klingsor. 

The evening’s outstanding performance came from bass Georg Zeppenfeld as Gurnemanz. His attention to textual detail is astonishing and his vocal command absolutely secure. This punishingly long role seemed to hold no terrors for one of the Festival’s hardest-working artists.

Conductor Pablo Heras-Casado led a propulsive, forward-moving account of the score that still left room for the big climaxes, but never dragged. The crowning musical moment was Gurnemanz’s Act 3 anointment of Parsifal as the new king where the overwhelming swell of the orchestral canon along with Zeppenfeld’s passionate delivery coalesced into sublime transcendence.

The Chorus was outstanding, especially given the fact the Festival’s chorus master, Eberhard Friedrich, unexpectedly announced his resignation that night during their vocal warm-up. He has cited concerns about how recent reductions of the Chorus’s size might effect its sound and musical quality, so that “under these circumstances, he no longer wants to work for the Bayreuth Festival.” (BR Klassik)

Tristan und Isolde — it’s all about the dress, August 18

The most prominent feature in Thorleifu Örn Arnarsson’s new production of Tristan und Isolde is the latter’s giant dress on which she scribbles words, apparently from the libretto (difficult to determine, even from a prime parterre seat). The gown acts like a prison; even when she steps out of its skirt, she is still restricted. As a metaphor, it suggests Isolde already presages her and Tristan’s fate, but it also keeps her very static throughout most of the act. Like Scheib’s Parsifal the day before, Arnarsson doesn’t go in for too much complex intellectualising, but it’s also difficult to determine what his thoughts might actually be. Famously, not a lot ‘happens’ in Tristan; its powerful effect comes mostly from the expression of a dense text by means of Wagner’s complex orchestration. But the lack of any incisive movement or meaningful interaction left a dramatic hole, especially in Act 1.  

Camilla Nylund (Isolde) & Andreas Schager (Tristan) in Bayreuth Festival’s Tristan und Isolde. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

All three acts take place in different sections of a ship. The first is on deck with a very simple design of hanging ropes. The second, in the hull which is more like a museum storage room containing ancient statuary, friezes, an elaborate balcony held by two caryatids and various framed paintings. In the third, it’s as if the hull has been blown up with the artefacts piled in the middle of the stage surrounded by parts of the ship’s frame. 

Andreas Schager found the reserves to succeed in this punishingly long role. The big, trumpeting, golden tone for which he is famous was all there. During Act 2’s love duet, he valiantly attempted to slim down his vocal emission but had to resort to a sort of crooned falsetto. Likewise, when singing in duet with Camilla Nylund’s Isolde, one might wish for more long-phrased legato to match hers, but we should be thankful there is a tenor who can sing this role with such sustained power.

Scene from Bayreuth Festival’s Tristan und Isolde. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Nylund was a revelation. Her silvery tone, secure top notes and utter commitment were astounding. There has been some commentary that her voice isn’t big enough for this repertoire, and while not possessing the most penetrating sound, she was rarely covered by the orchestra.

Christa Mayer as Brangäne is a Bayreuth favourite. She offers voluminous tone and a nuanced presence. Her Act 2 offstage warnings to Tristan and Isolde about the impending arrival of King Marke sounded ominous…and voluminous. Baritone Olafur Sigurdarson was ubiquitous at this year’s Festival. He is an extremely experienced Wagnerian—his penetrating tone is a bit rough and ready, but in the right role, it’s effective. As Tristan’s true friend and confidant, Kurwenal, he exuded empathy.

As King Marke, bass Günther Groissböck’s compromised vocalism, especially in his higher range, seemed to hinder his dramatic portrayal. The pathos was missing in this character who has been betrayed by his nephew over his intended bride, Isolde. 

Semyon Bychkov conducted a wondrous account; measured, yet the tempi did not feel slow or dragged out. Detailed string motifs, as well as harp and woodwind solos emerged from beneath the covered pit with remarkable clarity thanks to the Festspielhaus’s miraculous acoustic. 

Das Rheingold — each child is precious, August 20

There’s an old saw that even the most subversive Bayreuth staging is ultimately granted audience approval. If director Patrice Chereau’s famous 1976 ‘Centennial Ring’ production was “ferociously jeered at first … it became the most applauded and lauded production in the history of Bayreuth.” Chereau himself said that in Bayreuth, “after three years, it becomes tradition.” (Jens F. Laurson, Forbes, Aug. 2015)  

With this in mind, I approached this rewatch of Valentin Schwarz’s 2022 Ring with deep curiosity. Would my own initial (mainly negative) reaction need revision? Two years ago, the production team received the most vociferous round of booing I’ve ever heard. Would audiences still be so angry in 2024?

Tobias Kehrer (Fafner), Jens-Erik Aasbø (Fasolt), Nicholas Brownlee (Donner),
Mirko Roschkowski (Froh), Christina Nilsson (Freia) in Bayreuth Festival’s Das Rheingold. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Without a doubt, familiarity can soften the edges and perhaps, open the mind. It helps to already know going into this Rheingold that the gold is represented by precious children who become pawns between the gods, the Nibelungen and the giants. Perhaps this concept was conveyed even more clearly this time. I don’t recall before how initially sickened Fricka and family (Froh, Donner, Freia) are when they realise that children are the currency being traded in their shady dealings. But this is only a momentary blip. Once the trade is made, they blithely go on with their bourgeois lives, happy that their posh villa will still be built. “Alles ist gut,” except for the mentally damaged Freia, fragile from the start as she catatonically flips through magazines. As the curtain closes, she holds a gun to her head and in the next instalment, Die Walküre, we see her photo on a white coffin at the top of Act 2.  

If you understand the basic premise, the story is told clearly enough, but it is utterly prosaic—a seedy family drama that doesn’t even have the complexity of a Netflix series (when Schwarz’s Ring premiered, it was promoted as the ‘Netflix Ring’). In this very ‘reality-based’ concept, the direction of the performers was often unconvincing. In the opening scene, the cavorting and sexual posturing of the Rhinemaidens as they tease Alberich lacked believability, as did the children whose movements came off as rote and uninvested. This lack of specificity extended to the principals as well. As Freia, soprano Christina Nilsson’s physicality was just not big enough to convey her fear and frustration. 

Evelin Novak (Woglinde), Natalia Skrycka (Wellgunde),
Marie Henriette Reinhold (Floßhilde) Olafur Sigurdarson (Alberich) in Bayreuth Festival’s Das Rheingold. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Despite the generally tepid dramatic temperatures, there were still some outstanding individual performances. After his Tristan Kurwenal, Olafur Sigurdarson was back as Alberich, offering keen vocalism and barely-contained frustration. In Schwarz’s version, he is Wotan’s brother with a chip on his shoulder. As his brother Mime, tenor Ya-Chung Huang sang with unexaggerated clarity as a victim and enabler in the twisted child trafficking ring he runs with Alberich. 

Bass-baritone Nicholas Brownlee (Donner) delivered rich, golden tone, indicating why he’ll be jumping up a level as the Rheingold Wotan in Tobias Kratzer’s new Ring Cycle at Munich’s Bavarian State Opera this fall. As Froh, tenor Mirko Roschkowski likewise impressed with his bright, ‘speaking’ tone and cheekiness.

The two brother giants (here, shady architects) were taken by two strong basses: Norwegian Jens-Erik Aasbø’s (Fasolt) more lyric sound perfectly suited the surprisingly tender feelings he has towards his abductee, Freia. German bass Tobias Kehrer’s (Fafner) darker tone marked him as the more violent of the giant brothers who ends up brutally killing Fasolt with a pair of brass knuckles.

British tenor John Daszak exuded slimy charm as Loge, here the dodgy family lawyer. Initially, his loose vibrato was a bit of a distraction but things settled and his remarkably clear text delivery and thought-through characterization were exceptional.

Okka von der Damerau (Erda) in Bayreuth Festival’s Das Rheingold. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

As Wotan’s wife, Fricka, mezzo-soprano Christa Mayer acted the compromised chatelaine well, taking a sip of her cocktail whenever things got especially messy. Swedish soprano Christina Nilsson is blessed with a clean, bright, penetrating voice that makes one anticipate her Eva in next season’s new Bayreuth production of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.

In Schwarz’s concept, Erda is a constant presence in Wotan’s household as a sort of overseer/house manager. She seems to be the only one with a conscience when it comes to the appalling behaviour of her employers, taking a stand against their child trafficking. When Okka von der Damerau finally gets to sing in the final scene, her nobility of tone is all that is needed to convey her dire warning of the ultimate downfall of the gods.

This leaves bass-baritone Tomasz Konieczny as Wotan. He enters into Schwarz’s characterization with abandon, clearly the patriarch with a penchant for guns and the good life. Vocally, he can produce a big sound, but the words are not clear and there is sometimes a penchant for sliding into tones. I will leave it until Walküre to see if he can rally a more nuanced delivery.

Conductor Simone Young received a deserved ovation at her curtain call. She and the orchestra delivered a propulsive account, unafraid to highlight the more aggressive aspects of the orchestration such as the clanging hammers signalling Nibelheim’s cadre of working drones. 

Die Walküre — Valkyries gone bad, August 21

Bayreuth

Scene from Bayreuth Festival’s Die Walküre. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Young’s conducting was even more impressive the next day in Die Walküre. The opening storm music was hair raising, and she highlighted important themes throughout in a way that seemed completely natural. The tricky ensemble work of the Ride of the Valkyries held together despite the recently surgerized women having to obsess about their various augmentations and bandages…one of Schwarz’s more amusing interventions. 

The concept is again, more clear this time—Schwarz puts the gods on a completely human level. They are wealthy, powerful nouveau riche, subject to all the same weaknesses and bad choices most of us are. A little basic perhaps, but it doesn’t contradict their actions as laid down in the libretto.

Tomasz Konieczny (Wotan) & Catherine Foster (Brünnhilde) in Bayreuth Festival’s Die Walküre. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Audience members may feel robbed of some iconic ‘traditional’ moments, especially at the conclusion. As Wotan sends his daughter Brünnhilde to her final punishment for having disobeyed his command not to help her half-brother Siegmund, the swelling orchestra often suggests one last cathartic hug. Here, as he begs for an embrace, Brünnhilde backs away, shaking her head slightly. The interaction is taken to its logical conclusion during the fire music where all we see is a blank, black stage. Fricka comes on to celebrate with a cocktail trolley and at first, Wotan seems to join in the fun. In the end, he rejects his wife, throwing his wedding ring into her drink and walks away. The whole family is ruined.

Michael Spyres (Siegmund) & Vida Miknevičiūtė (Sieglinde) in Bayreuth Festival’s Die Walküre. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

As Sieglinde, Lithuanian soprano Vida Miknevičiūtė impressed with her gleaming tone and committed portrayal of a woman in an abusive relationship with her husband, Hundig. Georg Zeppenfeld conveyed all of the latter’s pent up anger as a man crushed by his subservient position (he is listed here as Wotan’s watchman) and possibly by his (visibly pregnant) wife’s infidelity.

Tenor Michael Spyres made his house and role debut as Siegmund. Known mostly for his high-flying French roles, he has gradually been moving into bigger German repertoire. His slightly baritonal timbre suits this role and allows him to project text in the lower part of his range. The famous, long-held “Wälse” cries were impressive, the first one especially so. This role assumption bodes well for his Walter in next year’s new Meistersinger.

Soprano Catherine Foster is a very experienced Bayreuth Brünnhilde having sung the role in the previous Bayreuth staging by Frank Castorf. She was suitably youthful and impetuous in her entrance as Schwarz’s party/cowgirl, singing with bright, voluminous tone throughout. Her delivery of text was clear and she sustained dramatic tension when listening to Wotan’s long Act 2 monologue in which he explains his impossible predicament.

With commanding tone, Christa Mayer scathingly delivered Fricka’s long narration calling out her husband’s infidelities. Tomasz Konieczny’s Wotan is once again perplexing. One cannot fault his commitment, but his delivery is too one-note, lacking both textual and dynamic nuance. 

Tannhäuser — Send in the clowns, August 22

I saw Tobias Kratzer’s production of Tannhäuser at its 2019 premiere, and it has been revived several times since. The German director famously invents a troupe of renegade artists led by Venus (Ekaterina Gubanova) who include Oskar (Manni Laudenbach), drag artist Le Gateau Chocolat and Tannhäuser himself (Klaus Florian Vogt) sporting a de rigeur clown nose and orange wig. In this telling, rather than being consumed by Venus’s den of fleshly love, the hero acts out his rebellion by choosing free expression over the conservative artistic strictures of the Wartburg. 

Irene Roberts (Venus), Manni Laudenbach (Oskar) & Le Gateau Chocolat in Bayreuth Festival’s Tannhäuser. Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Above the main action in Act 2, a huge video screen charts Venus and her gang’s infiltration of the Bayreuth Festspielhaus itself. After gaining entry by climbing a ladder onto the theatre’s fabled front balcony, Venus ties up one of the performers in a bathroom, steals her costume and then joins the assembled masses on the ‘real’ stage. There, a more-or-less vintage c. 1930s production of the opera is taking place. It’s all very meta and fun.

As in Das Rheingold however, some of the performances lacked discipline. Gubanova certainly conveyed Venus’s rebelliousness and jealousy, but it wasn’t subtle. And vocally, the role pushes her instrument to its limits. Le Gateau Chocolat wore some fabulous glitter caftans but seemed left to her own devices. 

Vogt continues to amaze with his unconventional, clean tenor sound. In this acoustic at least, he was never overwhelmed and entered into the conception of his character wholeheartedly. As the object of his idealised affection, Elisabeth, soprano Elisabeth Teige was perfectly cast, offering a big lyric sound. She was entirely convincing in her double role (presumably all the singers were in fact playing roles within roles) of the self-harming prima donna

Scene from Bayreuth Festival’s Tannhäuser. Photo: Enrico NawrathSummer

Markus Eiche (Wolfram) made a big impression on me in 2019, and it was a pleasure to hear him again. His beautiful, high-set baritone is perfect for this gift of a lyric role which he invested with exquisite diction, and a disturbing edge. When he visits Elisabeth in Act 3 to check on her well-being, he ends up donning Tannhäuser’s clown costume, realising this is the only way to gain her attentions. They end up making love in the troupe’s ruined van, a moment of stark pathos. 

Once again this year, Nathalie Stutzmann led the musical proceedings. She seems to have mastered the tricky acoustic, and struck a perfect balance between the gentler sections in which this score abounds, and its rousing themes. Tannhäuser is one of Wagner’s big, choral operas. The Festival chorus demonstrated once again why they are considered to be among the best in the world. 

Bayreuth 2025 shake-up

Over the past few years, it has become customary to opine that the Bayreuth Festival no longer sets the standard for Wagnerian opera performance. Most larger, medium, and even small-sized theatres produce the canon, often with the same singers and production teams. It is still very special, however, to hear superb artists perform these operas in a theatre designed to highlight their specific effects.

But there’s no denying that change is afoot. After their final performance on August 27, the Chorus was told that unlike in the past, all singers would have to re-audition for the 2025 season, “so that the new choir director can get to know his staff.” (In Bayreuth). Next season, in addition to the new Meistersinger, the Festival will revive its Ring, Parsifal and Tristan and bring back Yuval Sharon’s Lohengrin, not seen since 2022. 

Full 2025 season details can be found here.

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