This was simply (or, perhaps not so simply) one of the most amazing performances I've experienced of Parsifal, which is, of course, my very favorite opera. The new production is stunning, the hand-picked cast superb, each character caught up completely in the drama. I was only mildly concerned for my seatmates who'd never before seen Parsifal (though familiar with it from recordings). I needn't have worried for they were, as I was, blown away by all we saw and all we heard. During the intermissions found myself chatting with the chap sitting on my other side, a longtime Met goer since his army days and being on leave in New York, yet had never managed to see it before. At the end, I asked, "So, how was your first Parsifal?" With tears streaming down his face, all he could manage was a faint,"I'm undone. Completely." Two complete strangers sharing the same experience and having the same reaction. Wagner can do that to us.
Musically, Gatti had the score so firmly in hand, and under him the Met Orchestra responded splendidly through every inch and measure of this amazing score. His nuanced, non-rushed reading glimmered in all the right places; the transformation music of the outer acts truly was transforming, the pulse (and pace) in Act II's opening, actually dangerous sounding ... chilling, as it should be. The Met Chorus, as ever, was superb, the multiple choir effects of the different levels of sound Wagner indicates coming through incredibly throughout the cinema's sound system.Rene Pape's Gurnamenz is one that stands alongside the very best, his face registering so many emotions it was almost unbearably beautiful at times. During the first Grail ceremony, where Wagner finally gives him a vocal rest, his acting alone made every gesture, every movement and glance, genuinely felt. As he stared at Parsifal, Pape's eyes and even his mouth, registered a look of one who barely dared to hope that this young man could be "The One." As is always the case with this elegant singer, his way with the text remained a miracle. In the Good Friday scene, just the simple way he uttered the phrase "Nun freut sich alle Kreatur" took my breath away, revealing a dignified rapture . . . a genuine rejoicing of nature and the meaning of this holiest of days.
Jonas Kaufmann with his medium-sized tenor, gave a performance that captured the youthful casualness of the Innocent Fool, throughout the first act. He places the voice just right to be heard even softly, yet was fully capable in Act II of opening up for "Amfortas! Die Wunde!" With a sound that grows increasingly through its pain, his Parsifal finally comprehends . . . discovers what his purpose must now be, and ends that great monologue. with his desperate cry: "Erlöser! Heiland! Herr der Huld! Wie büss ich Sünder meine Schuld?" The intensity Kaufmann exhibited from this point onward was tremendous in every way. This really was Parsifal.
I enjoyed the interview with Peter Mattei, who spoke about people (like me) wondering something along the lines of, "Amfortas? You?" Haha! As it stands, Mattei, who we have grown to love in Mozart, Rossini, Tchaikovsky gave one of the most riveting, painfully beautiful accounts of the role I've seen or heard, his great narrative in Act I, heartbreaking. The integration between singer and role was perfection. What a glorious gift - and surprise this debut was.
Evgeny Nikitin was as spooky and commanding a Klingsor as one could hope for. Malevolence, like blood, literally dripping from him as he made wild gestures and seemed to be uttering dark-god incantations. This was a far cry from previous Klingsors in my experience, who were no more threatening than Uncle Fester, bald and sexless. There was a verility still on display and again, that malevolence manifested itself in voice and deed and was not only palpable, it was terrifying.
Katarina Dalayman clearly knows the essence of Kundry down to her toes and her three (well, four) appearances captured every nuance of this eternally tortured woman. Girard took full advantage of his staging and whereas most Kundrys have been around for centuries, his has her having existed for millennia. The chemistry between Dalayman and Nikitin, Dalaymand and Kaufmann, Dalayman and Pape here made one of Wagner's most fascinating creatures even more so.
In the penultimate scene, we witness the spring in the dry, scorched topography coming back to life as water again flows with life, the perfect segue to the finale. Entirely unique, Girard makes the entirety of the scene uniquely special, and, for me, the most overwhelming since Wieland Wagner's. We watch Amfortas' healing, almost still in disbelief, and feel the awe and wonder of Gurnemanz, whose tested accepts his new King, were infinitely moving. Then, there is Kundry. Taking her rightful place in the final ceremony, and uniting with Parsifal the Grail and Spear, she is finally redeemed and allowed to die. How much more satisfying this was rather than decades old trend of having her live on. The lady's tired, let her rest, already! .
Evgeny Nikitin was as spooky and commanding a Klingsor as one could hope for. Malevolence, like blood, literally dripping from him as he made wild gestures and seemed to be uttering dark-god incantations. This was a far cry from previous Klingsors in my experience, who were no more threatening than Uncle Fester, bald and sexless. There was a verility still on display and again, that malevolence manifested itself in voice and deed and was not only palpable, it was terrifying.
Katarina Dalayman clearly knows the essence of Kundry down to her toes and her three (well, four) appearances captured every nuance of this eternally tortured woman. Girard took full advantage of his staging and whereas most Kundrys have been around for centuries, his has her having existed for millennia. The chemistry between Dalayman and Nikitin, Dalaymand and Kaufmann, Dalayman and Pape here made one of Wagner's most fascinating creatures even more so.
In the penultimate scene, we witness the spring in the dry, scorched topography coming back to life as water again flows with life, the perfect segue to the finale. Entirely unique, Girard makes the entirety of the scene uniquely special, and, for me, the most overwhelming since Wieland Wagner's. We watch Amfortas' healing, almost still in disbelief, and feel the awe and wonder of Gurnemanz, whose tested accepts his new King, were infinitely moving. Then, there is Kundry. Taking her rightful place in the final ceremony, and uniting with Parsifal the Grail and Spear, she is finally redeemed and allowed to die. How much more satisfying this was rather than decades old trend of having her live on. The lady's tired, let her rest, already! .
Francois Girard's production was a most remarkable achievement, along with Maestro Gatti and the company achieving a true realization of gesamtkunstwerk the likes of which I've rarely seen at this level. Even in this barren post-apocalyptic wasteland, there was a genuine, if raw, beauty about it all. The choreographed movements of the Flower Maidens - like Ninja roses from Hell, will (along with everything else I saw and heard) be burned, forever in my mind. Literally, unforgettable. Wagner's score has my eyes moist, and a lump in my throat from the opening notes of the Vorspiel to the curtain's final fall and today's performance - visually and sonically was no exception.
While I used not to be a fan of Barbara Willis Sweet, her work for the Met has not only improved, her video direction for today's performance sets the benchmark for how it should be done. There were blessedly few long, intrusive close-ups, and instead she chose to capture the stage either in its entirety, or large portions of it. I didn't miss seeing long stretches of singers' dental work or nose hair. Not one iota.
Our theatre was not only packed, it seemed there were no defectors, with everyone remaining, cheering, bravoing and applauding until long after the final credits had faded.
I shall not forget this afternoon and the exemplary work the Met gave us from start to finish. I'm on a high right now that is going to stick around for days. I look forward to a (hopeful) release of this performance on Blu-ray, to experience this slice of Wagnerian heaven again . . . and again.
Paul,
ReplyDeleteI thought Siegfried was your favorite Wagner opera.
Not at all! It's not even my favorite Ring opera (but I do love it!)
ReplyDelete