The programme for The Royal Opera’s new Rheingold makes much of Wagner’s admiration for Greek drama, but it’s an older myth that inspires Barrie Kosky, reminding one of his Australian roots: the Aboriginal Dreamtime. We see the story unfold as it is dreamed – or reminisced? – by the Earth Mother Erda, physically on stage for almost the whole opera in the naked, grey-tressed, painfully thin figure of actor Rose Knox-Peebles. When Erda is given her voice, as she wraps Wotan in her arms and a shaft of light, Wiebke Lehmkuhl singing the role from darkness at the side of the stage, it’s not a stentorian contralto; her voice carries not just authority but also the pure beauty of nature, a truer and more potent force that Freia’s youthful charms could ever be.
Kosky conjures excellent character acting from his whole cast to match their excellent Wagnerian singing. Christopher Maltman is a Wotan of the very highest quality, his rounded baritone projecting enormous nobility as he contemplates Valhalla. We hear that nobility but we know that it’s false, because at every turn, he displays the character of an organised crime boss, his voice frequently turning savage to match. Christopher Purves, as Alberich, is truly his evil twin, the dark-elf to Wotan’s light-elf, matched in looks as well as vocal power. Extreme as Alberich’s thoughts and actions may be, Purves never overacts and the confrontation between the two Christophers is electric. Kosky’s many light relief gags land successfully.
It’s not just Erda whose style isn’t quite in the Ring norm. Marina Prudenskaya is a mellifluous Fricka, more at home when charming Wotan than berating him. The two giants are far from lumbering bassi profondi: Insung Sim as Fasolt and Soloman Howard as Fafner tackle Wotan in steely, clear voices. Sim turns on his own nobility when declaring his love for Freia. Where Loge can be played as the boss of the whole show or a criminal gang’s fixer, Sean Panikkar plays him as a Puck-like spirit of nature, dancing around the stage, bursting into laughter at the most inappropriate moments, accompanied superbly by the skittering strings that denote the licking flames – but also able to deploy a strong, attractive legato. The three Rhinemaidens, Katharina Konradi, Niamh O’Sullivan and Marvic Monreal, expertly flip between idle chatter and the ecstasy of gold – and, later, despair and nostalgia.
Sir Antonio Pappano’s Ring conducting is like fine wine: it was great early on but keeps improving with the years. In Rheingold, the orchestra must create the lightning changes in mood that Wagner keeps coming towards you at a dizzying rate. The leitmotifs need to be drilled into our brains – not just in the obvious moments like the mentions of the ring or Wotan’s vision of Valhalla, but also in the little snatches and sneak previews (the giants’ theme enters the fray long before the giants themselves). We also want to revel in the luscious, full throated gorgeousness of that brass-laden Wagnerian sound. Pappano and the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House delivered on every count to an extraordinary degree. With the exception of some ham-fisted sound reinforcement and effects for Alberich’s transformations and the Nibelungs’ anvils, this was as complete an orchestral Rheingold performance as you’re likely to hear.
Rufus Didwiszus’ set is a giant fallen tree which spans most of the width of the stage. If works brilliantly for the opening scene, enabling Kosky to stick surprisingly closely to Wagner’s stage directions as Alberich slips and slides as he tries to catch the Rhinemaidens weaving in and out of clefts in the tree. It also works well for Nibelheim where, in a spectacular tableau, the gold (liquid in this whole production) is being milked from Erda's breasts by a giant steampunk-style pump, the rape of nature made explicit. But like many one-set designs, it works less well in other places. Victoria Behr’s polo party costumes are a fun touch for the lazy gods (as well as a political dig at kleptocracy, given that polo was the favoured sport of 19th-century kleptocrats) but the canvas partially concealing the tree isn’t convincing. And we’ve seen a rainbow bridge fashioned from a shower of glitter before, including Richard Jones' ENO staging in London earlier this year.
Given that Kosky's staging is probably heading for environmental apocalypse, the set is pretty dark and post-apocalyptic even here at the very beginning of the cycle, which makes it hard to imagine quite where the director can take it from here. But that is all part of the excitement of a new Ring. This production has provided musical excellence and plenty of ideas to tease as to how the cycle will continue.
