Seattle Opera mines a novel, futuristic ‘Rheingold’

Opera review

Richard Wagner once described his trailblazing brand of opera as “deeds of music made visible.” The new production of “Das Rheingold” that opened Seattle Opera’s 60th season Saturday adds a literal twist to that concept by having the orchestra share the stage with the singers.

As the lights dimmed, a single E-flat, sustained by the double basses, emerged out of the silence. The spell was cast not, as usual, from the invisible depths of the orchestra pit, but in plain view, behind a scrim, as conductor Ludovic Morlot raised his baton from a perch at center stage.

A decade ago — the last time audiences saw “Das Rheingold” in McCaw Hall — that moment launched a performance of the entire, four-part “Ring,” with three vaster operas to follow over the course of a single week. But instead of introducing a brand-new cycle, this “Rheingold” (running through Aug. 20) is a production created to stand on its own.

As such, it invites a closer focus on the motivations and predicaments that set the rest of the “Ring” in motion — above all, on the fundamental grab for power that establishes the gold-stealing, ring-forging Alberich as the arch-nemesis of Wotan, king of the gods.

A main draw of this “Rheingold” is the return of Seattle Opera favorite Greer Grimsley, a veteran interpreter of Wotan whose vocal heft and stage presence continue to impress. In his latest foray, he portrayed an overly self-confident ruler whose bravado far outstripped any understanding or empathy. It threw into relief the frustration of his spouse Fricka (sung with both warmth and authority by Melody Wilson) and the despair of the ransomed Freia (Katie Van Kooten, in a vocally compelling performance).

Wagner himself exploited myth to reflect contemporary concerns about alienation from nature. Director Brian Staufenbiel and his design team follow suit by evoking a futuristic cosmos echoing our own fears of a world out of balance. Nature and technology have hyper-evolved and fused into uncanny hybrids in this production (originally produced by Minnesota Opera in 2016), which combines a bare-bones physical set with an ever-changing, subliminal array of front and rear projections by David Murakami as well as real-time motion capture. Mathew LeFebvre’s time-traveling costumes stitch together motifs ranging from machinery-infatuated steampunk to a sci-fi dystopia populated by replicants.

The production responds to the formidable staging challenges that the exposition-heavy, plot-driven “Rheingold” poses with imagination, though the results are not always convincing.

The emptied-out orchestra pit represented the Rhine River in the first of the intermission-less opera’s four scenes. Later, it did duty as a lower level of Nibelheim, where Alberich enslaves his fellow Nibelungs as the first step in his quest for world domination. A narrow, industrial catwalk suspended above the orchestra onstage served as the realm of the gods (though some of their action also transpired downstage on the main level).

This design scheme allowed us to be unusually close-up witnesses to Alberich’s transformation from a merely unpleasant creature into a terrifyingly focused force of malevolent energy. Michael Mayes played up the character’s brutality with deliberately harsh, rough-edged singing. Martin Bakari’s poignant Mime bore the brunt of his whip-cracking sadism. In a highlight of the evening, Mayes built inevitably to the seething, resentment-saturated climax of his parting curse after Wotan forces him to yield the ring (shown as an imposing, bracelet-sized accessory).

Alberich’s snarling rage posed a stark contrast with the winsome lyricism of Jacqueline Piccolo, Shelly Traverse and Sarah Larsen as the Rhine Daughters; their transformation into a lamenting trio left an indelible final image.

Some choices puzzled (why the depiction of Valhalla as a neo-Gothic, cloud-obscured castle in this futuristic world?) or fizzled out as underwhelming special effects (Alberich’s projected metamorphosis into a dragon).

The constraint caused by having the orchestra onstage also posed problems: At times, the ensemble seemed uneasy negotiating the space. Still, the cast overall was of high quality. Frederick Ballentine stood out for his nuanced performance of Loge, which suggested that the trickster fire god feels instinctively drawn to the giants (the booming Peixin Chen and Kenneth Kellogg) as fellow subversives. 

Staufenbiel was at his best when it came to illuminating the emotional energies attracting or repulsing these characters. It was fascinating to see the effects on Wotan of briefly possessing the ring until the 11th-hour appearance of Erda, the goddess of primal wisdom — sung with solemn grandeur by Denyce Graves (in her belated company debut).

The Seattle Symphony players who form the core of the opera orchestra have a deep rapport with Wagner’s music: Their performance in last season’s “Tristan and Isolde” was exceptionally fine. But they sounded subdued on opening night. Because of their position behind (and underneath) the singers, Morlot, who is making his debut leading “Das Rheingold” with this production, had a harder task than usual of keeping everyone in sync. He seemed to proceed with extra caution, but I expect his interpretation will gain more character and definition in the performances to come.