This past fall, La Scala embarked upon a new Ring cycle with high expectations. Its previous one took place a decade ago, under the baton of the great Daniel Barenboim. At Das Rheingold‘s premiere in October, there was disappointment in the air, as this cycle was supposed to be helmed by leading Wagner conductor Christian Thielemann, who withdrew for health reasons. It could be he felt he was on uncertain grounds after the venerable opera house forced its director Dominique Meyer’s retirement, following an age regulation passed by the Italian government.
There was also curiosity about Scotsman David McVicar’s staging, a conventional choice compared to more adventurous directors. The result, while far from disappointing, was predictably McVicar: visually appealing, straightforward and without clutter. A high degree of exoticism had marked his Das Rheingold: native tribal imagery, sets and costumes from Asia, Africa and South America. The non-Eurocentric imagery was appealing, providing renewed visuals inspired by exotic cultures, the message being that all mythology is universal.
A scene from Teatro alla Scala’s Die Walküre. Photo: Brescia & Amisano
Nonetheless, visually, the first act of McVicar’s Die Walküre was idiomatically Norse. The strikingly authentic sets and costumes were appealing. If the lighting was at times a little too dark, this seemed to suit Siegmund’s plight as he flees his enemies as well as the bleakness of Sieglinde’s life. Once the sword Nothung is withdrawn from the ash tree and Siegmund and Sieglinde give in to their passion, David Finn’s lighting brightens to shades of blue and green, alluding to the regenerative power of spring.
In Act II, Brünnhilde’s horse Grane was an original contraption, one of the most ingeniously appealing stage concepts I’ve ever seen: a man wearing a metallic horse head on aerodynamically-designed stilts that enabled smooth jumping and leaping.
This was followed by Fricka, attired in classic Norse costume, transported by two horned rams (in fact, men wearing elaborately impressive ram’s heads). The well-staged fight between Siegmund and Hunding featured the latter’s kinsmen standing on the periphery, watching collectively like a wolf pack. Wotan breaks Nothung, rendering Siegmund defenceless. Once Hunding strikes Siegmund, Wotan slays him and his clansmen with a mere glance.
Camilla Nylund (Brünnhilde) in Teatro alla Scala’s Die Walküre. Photo: Brescia & Amisano
In Act III, Brünnhilde and the other eight Valkyries congregate in a space resembling Easter Island, with statues of huge heads sprouting from the ground. The commotion caused by the agitated Valkyries and their horses led to two horses tripping, then quickly recovering. The final scene, the duet between Wotan and Brünnhilde, takes place in a possibly Khmer setting. When an imploring Brünnhilde convinces Wotan to create a circle of fire that only the bravest of heroes may cross, the father breaks a Buddha’s head with his spear to provide a resting place for his daughter. Four bare chested Buddhist monks execute the manual labour as they had done in Das Rheingold.
However, the real triumph of this Die Walküre was its singers. Finnish dramatic soprano Camilla Nylund had the requisite voice and facile high notes for Brünnhilde. Moreover, she was highly charismatic and moved with great agility. Thanks to her clear diction, one understood her every word, which made her compassion towards Sieglinde palpable. In her scenes with Wotan, she conveyed Brünnhilde’s strength of character.
Klaus Florian Vogt (Siegmund) & Elsa Van den Heever (Sieglinde) in Teatro alla Scala’s Die Walküre. Photo: Brescia & Amisano
Despite austere dress and hair, South African lirico spinto soprano Elza van den Heever was an appropriately feminine Sieglinde. In Act I, her sensual voice conveyed rapture in her duet with Siegmund. In Act II, her voice contrasted beautifully with Nylund’s. Thanks to her powerful mezzo and stage presence, Okka von der Damerau was a majestic Fricka. Austrian bass Günther Groissböck, endowed with a sizable voice, easily conveyed Hunding’s authority.
German baritone Michael Volle is today’s leading Wagnerian baritone. Endowed with a warm yet virile instrument, he embodied authority. The final scene, “Leb wohl, du kühnes, herrliches Kind,” was among the most touching I’ve ever heard.
Michael Volle (Wotan) in Teatro alla Scala’s Die Walküre. Photo: Brescia & Amisano
Despite the aforementioned glorious singers, one impressed above all others: German tenor Klaus Florian Vogt, as Siegfried. He had le physique du rôle, a rarity among Wagnerian tenors. Moreover, his voice easily filled La Scala, never feeling forced. Best of all was his clear elocution, enunciating the text as if it were a Schubert Lied. To hear Wagner sung so beautifully, with such apparent ease, was truly a revelation.
Australian conductor Simone Young masterfully revealed the score’s texture and colour while being careful not to obscure the singers. The orchestra was most impressive in the opera’s final scene. Wotan’s farewell was the highlight of the evening, thanks to both Volle’s performance as well as Young’s conducting. Judging by audience’s reaction, it’s safe to say that many (present company included) impatiently await the next chapter of McVicar’s Ring.
Teatro alla Scala’s production of Die Walküre continues its run through Feb. 23. www.teatroallascala.org
