Serebrennikov's Parsifal from Vienna: Profound and Compassionate
Images of Kirill Serebrennikow's new production of Wagner's final opera, "Parsifal," have been playing in my head constantly since finishing watching it, filmed live at the Vienna State Opera.
Being my favorite opera, I've seen and listened to countless productions, either live or on video. Serebrennikow's ranks among the very best, if also among the most disturbing.
Set in a rundown Russian prison, the normally placid Grail Knights here become prisoners - violent, corrupt, proud, but every bit as doomed as in Wagner's original The director, (who is under house arrest and had to direct from Russia via camera) is clearly knowledgeable of the enormity of Russian Prison Tattoo Culture, and here, the ink flows and is on display constantly. We even watch on as Gurnemanz tattoos one of his fellow prisoners. The tattoo culture brings the men together and, in a sexualized, capitalist way, is their legacy to the outside world.
In and out of that world is Kundry, who appears to be an opportunistic photo journalist fascinated by these men who easily stop their fighting to remove clothing articles, striking poses they appear to perceive as dominating masculinity. They may be aware of being used, but also aware, it's all they have.
The first two acts represent a memory play for the hero who is now older, and invisible, watching as if a ghost - the violent, lonely history of his past, younger self - the innocent fool. Serebrenikow fills the action with symbolism and uses this premise to create an unexpected if pointed poignancy that belies the violence of this microcosm. At one point, Parsifal watches himself asking "Wer ist der Gral?" And, clearly having played this moment over a thousand times in his mind, mouths the answer Gurnemanz provides.
Another moment: As Amfortas, mad with self-inflicted pain, is finishing his howling - just before the Grail ceremony music begins he scrawls the first part of the lynchpin on which everything hangs: "Durch Mitleid wissend," - "Enlightened through compassion. . . " and is shown that compassion first by Gurnemanz, then by the boy Parsifal who gently caresses the head of Amfortas, before embracing him, and in a gesture of comfort and respect, kneeling beside, then placing his head on the tortured king's shoulder.
The act continues with these overwhelming images, matched to Wagner's magnificent score, and ends as solemnly and beautifully as any production you might imagine. With such an overwhelming first act, the ensuing ones have their work cut out for them. Unfortunately, each begins somewhat weaker, less inspired and gave me cause for concern that the best was not yet to come.
Fortunately, both acts, whether by design or "just one of those things" spring into life midway through and are, in their own way, equal to the mesmerizing first. Throughout all three acts, a trio of enormous projection screens above the stage provide us a voyeur's perspective of the prison goings on - which can make for tough viewing - as well as the young Parsifal's journey to, in, and out of the beautiful, haunting ruins of the prison and the beauty of nature surrounding it.
I could go on with more of the imagery that provides emotional suckerpunches, i.e., the meeting of the two Parsifals, Kundry's ultimate recognition of who this hero is, the heart tugging (and Fidelio-esque) opening of the prison, but must stop somewhere.
Silent throughout, young Russian actor Nikolay Sidorenko - bearing a striking resemblance to a young Kaufmann, portrays the youthful Parsifal powerfully, his journey (both onstage and onscreen) moving and inspirational. Musically, this is as satisfying a Parsifal as I can recall. I don't believe anything is "perfect" - but this comes about as close to that mark as it gets.
Jonas Kaufmann gives, for me, the most complete performance I've seen from him in any role, vocally and theatrically - he is perfect, the voice sounding more "tenorish" than baritonal and (at least in this recording) able to pour out the sound in a way I've not heard from him live or on recording.
Perfect IS the word I want to use in describing Georg Zeppenfeld's Gurnemanz - a role I've now seen/heard him twice in, and who is the finest interpreter of it today. I'd add him - quite easily - to the best who've ever sung it.
Of late, Amfortas is portrayed with more and more violence and/or torture, and Ludovic Tezier's Amfortas while definitely in that mold, is still somehow different. His beauty of tone is here used to express a world of pain that is outside of anything else we see or hear in this production.
In one of the most significant role debuts in memory Elīna Garanča, with Serebrennikow's inspiration, puts a spin on Kundry unlike any of past temptresses I can recall. Physically, with her silver wig, she remains one of the most gorgeous creatures the world of opera has been privileged to see. Vocally, Wagner's anti-heroine has seldom sounded as good. Even through all ranges, her top notes have a shine, a security and power, that eludes most mezzos, as well as sopranos who attempt the role.
The chorus of the State Opera is the equal of the principals, offering up volume and when required (which is often) a hushed tenderness that is heavenly.
Philippe Jordan begins the opening Vorspiel and shapeshifts it in a manner that befits what we shall see over the next four and one half hours. At times, I found his conducting a bit foursquare and with an almost martial quality. When I thought about the setting, and the drama as given here, it made perfect sense. The tightness would, without forewarning, grow, gleam and expand into a tonal universe that was filled with awe and wonder, taking the earthbound and sending it into the heavens.
Serebrennikow is already receiving angry criticism from traditionalists who cannot find their way into accepting this type of interpretation. Sadly, much of that criticism is coming from those who have not - and never will - bother to experience it for themselves.
As for me? I can only praise all of the efforts made to bring this to life during this impossible time, right down to having to film the production because of an outbreak of the dreaded COVID-19. I can't think of a Parsifal more appropriate for our time.
Being my favorite opera, I've seen and listened to countless productions, either live or on video. Serebrennikow's ranks among the very best, if also among the most disturbing.
Set in a rundown Russian prison, the normally placid Grail Knights here become prisoners - violent, corrupt, proud, but every bit as doomed as in Wagner's original The director, (who is under house arrest and had to direct from Russia via camera) is clearly knowledgeable of the enormity of Russian Prison Tattoo Culture, and here, the ink flows and is on display constantly. We even watch on as Gurnemanz tattoos one of his fellow prisoners. The tattoo culture brings the men together and, in a sexualized, capitalist way, is their legacy to the outside world.
In and out of that world is Kundry, who appears to be an opportunistic photo journalist fascinated by these men who easily stop their fighting to remove clothing articles, striking poses they appear to perceive as dominating masculinity. They may be aware of being used, but also aware, it's all they have.
The first two acts represent a memory play for the hero who is now older, and invisible, watching as if a ghost - the violent, lonely history of his past, younger self - the innocent fool. Serebrenikow fills the action with symbolism and uses this premise to create an unexpected if pointed poignancy that belies the violence of this microcosm. At one point, Parsifal watches himself asking "Wer ist der Gral?" And, clearly having played this moment over a thousand times in his mind, mouths the answer Gurnemanz provides.
Another moment: As Amfortas, mad with self-inflicted pain, is finishing his howling - just before the Grail ceremony music begins he scrawls the first part of the lynchpin on which everything hangs: "Durch Mitleid wissend," - "Enlightened through compassion. . . " and is shown that compassion first by Gurnemanz, then by the boy Parsifal who gently caresses the head of Amfortas, before embracing him, and in a gesture of comfort and respect, kneeling beside, then placing his head on the tortured king's shoulder.
The act continues with these overwhelming images, matched to Wagner's magnificent score, and ends as solemnly and beautifully as any production you might imagine. With such an overwhelming first act, the ensuing ones have their work cut out for them. Unfortunately, each begins somewhat weaker, less inspired and gave me cause for concern that the best was not yet to come.
Fortunately, both acts, whether by design or "just one of those things" spring into life midway through and are, in their own way, equal to the mesmerizing first. Throughout all three acts, a trio of enormous projection screens above the stage provide us a voyeur's perspective of the prison goings on - which can make for tough viewing - as well as the young Parsifal's journey to, in, and out of the beautiful, haunting ruins of the prison and the beauty of nature surrounding it.
I could go on with more of the imagery that provides emotional suckerpunches, i.e., the meeting of the two Parsifals, Kundry's ultimate recognition of who this hero is, the heart tugging (and Fidelio-esque) opening of the prison, but must stop somewhere.
Silent throughout, young Russian actor Nikolay Sidorenko - bearing a striking resemblance to a young Kaufmann, portrays the youthful Parsifal powerfully, his journey (both onstage and onscreen) moving and inspirational. Musically, this is as satisfying a Parsifal as I can recall. I don't believe anything is "perfect" - but this comes about as close to that mark as it gets.
Jonas Kaufmann gives, for me, the most complete performance I've seen from him in any role, vocally and theatrically - he is perfect, the voice sounding more "tenorish" than baritonal and (at least in this recording) able to pour out the sound in a way I've not heard from him live or on recording.
Perfect IS the word I want to use in describing Georg Zeppenfeld's Gurnemanz - a role I've now seen/heard him twice in, and who is the finest interpreter of it today. I'd add him - quite easily - to the best who've ever sung it.
Of late, Amfortas is portrayed with more and more violence and/or torture, and Ludovic Tezier's Amfortas while definitely in that mold, is still somehow different. His beauty of tone is here used to express a world of pain that is outside of anything else we see or hear in this production.
In one of the most significant role debuts in memory Elīna Garanča, with Serebrennikow's inspiration, puts a spin on Kundry unlike any of past temptresses I can recall. Physically, with her silver wig, she remains one of the most gorgeous creatures the world of opera has been privileged to see. Vocally, Wagner's anti-heroine has seldom sounded as good. Even through all ranges, her top notes have a shine, a security and power, that eludes most mezzos, as well as sopranos who attempt the role.
The chorus of the State Opera is the equal of the principals, offering up volume and when required (which is often) a hushed tenderness that is heavenly.
Philippe Jordan begins the opening Vorspiel and shapeshifts it in a manner that befits what we shall see over the next four and one half hours. At times, I found his conducting a bit foursquare and with an almost martial quality. When I thought about the setting, and the drama as given here, it made perfect sense. The tightness would, without forewarning, grow, gleam and expand into a tonal universe that was filled with awe and wonder, taking the earthbound and sending it into the heavens.
Serebrennikow is already receiving angry criticism from traditionalists who cannot find their way into accepting this type of interpretation. Sadly, much of that criticism is coming from those who have not - and never will - bother to experience it for themselves.
As for me? I can only praise all of the efforts made to bring this to life during this impossible time, right down to having to film the production because of an outbreak of the dreaded COVID-19. I can't think of a Parsifal more appropriate for our time.
Labels: Elina Garanca, Fidelio, Georg Zeppenfeld, Jonas Kaufmann, Jordan, Kirill Serebrennikow, Parsifal, Prison Movies, Vienna, Wagner