Considering Kundry: Wagner's Most Fascinating Character

Years ago my feathers got ruffled when I read an article arguing Kundry leaves an insignificant impact in Wagner's Parsifal. He stated incorrectly Kundry's only lines are in Act 2 "and even then limited," and suggested it doesn't even matter WHO sings Kundry, and expressed wonder as to why any singer with a major career would take on this unrewarding role.

Of course, Kundry being one of the characters I find the most fascinating in the world of opera, I nearly fell from my chair and responded with my having heard seen and/or heard (live or on recording) Kundry sung by the likes of Maria Callas, Christa Ludwig, Martha Modl, Jessye Norman, Tatiana Troyanos, Angela Denoke, Catherine Malfitano, Waltraut Meier, Renata Scotto, Rita Gorr, Leonie Rysanek, Irene Dalis, Violetta Urmana, Regine Crespin, Linda Watson, Katarina Dalayman, Petra Lang, Eva Randova, Yvonne Minton, Michelle DeYoung, Anne Gjevang, Gillian Knight, Gwyneth Jones. Evidence enough of the role's power to attract a widely diverse roster of celebrated singers.

I can think of few characters more fascinating, more troubling, more perplexing and ultimately more touching, than Wagner's hybrid distillation of several of the Grail myths more interesting females. Wagner seems to have carved this fascinating creature from von Eschenbach, Chretien de Troyes, and God only knows who else. Von Eschenbach describes her as "a woman so talented that she spoke all languages: Latin, Heathen and French . . . familiar with both dialectic and geometry; and she haad also knowledge of astrononomy . . . (her) nickname the sorceress. Her mouth was not restrained for she could say quite enough (and) with it she dampened much joy." That's our gal! In each act Kundry seems not only transformed, but is transforming right before us! What a gift Wagner has given the singer of this role . and what a marvelous challenge!

In Act 1, we're presented with this mysterious, wild woman of dubious character, which in no way prepares us for the seductress we're introduced to in the second act. Even then, we continue to witness her pain and the torture she's endured throughout the entire act.

Many operatic characters have screams written into the score, but, for me, none is more chilling than the moans and screams of Kundry, because we're witnessing the ultimate horror; someone realizing they are still alive, when that is the last thing they want to be.

Kundry's second meeting with Parsifal is one of the most fascinating scenes in all of opera. Beginning with "Parsifal Weile!" what ensues is of such a complex nature that it rattles my mind, this even after spending a lifetime with these characters. Throughout, we see this tortured, conflicted and ultimately cursed woman, helplessly bound to continuing Klingsor's dirty deeds, yet now, touched by this innocent fool, she longs for salvation. When she comes clean revealing her thousand year old secrets, she has in a sense found another victim as we witness Parsifal's own confliction, and at the same time, the beginning of an understanding of his place in the world.

A most wordy guy, Wagner was seldom prone towards repeating a word, a practice more common in operas that precede his own, so when he does so, the effect is of such dramatic significance that we can almost hear the gears turning in his characters’ minds. With fever pitch intensity, we hear Parsifal cry out:

"Amfortas! - -
Die Wunde! - Die Wunde! -
Sie brennt in meinem Herzen.
Oh, Klage! Klage!
Furchtbare Klage!
Aus tiefstem Herzen schreit sie mir auf.
Oh! - Oh! -
Elender!
Jammervollster!
Die Wunde sah ich bluten, -
nun blutet sie in mir! -
Hier - hier!
Nein! Nein! Nicht die Wunde ist es.
Fliesse ihr Blut in Strömen dahin!
Hier! Hier im Herzen der Brand!

All of those repeated words present us with a device that, given the right singer, has the potential to shatter an audience as we witness before our eyes (and ears), the Innocent Fool in a profound epiphany of heartstricken terror, pain, realization, understanding, and most importantly of all, empathy.

Even as a child, I was drawn to, what my mother would call, "sad stories." I still am, and it's no wonder that my favorite operas are (I believe) amongst the saddest stories set to music: Parsifal, Wozzeck, Pelleas et Melisande, Don Carlos . . . (you get the idea). There's an ineffable sadness to Parsifal that may be the cause of why it alienates so many operalovers. That quality of sadness, instead of pretending pain or ugliness away, instead embraces and reveals along with it . . . everything: not merely joy and good times, which we reflect on in happier states, but all. Alles. I’ve spoken with a number of others who like me, easily declare Parsifal to be their favorite (or one of their favorite) operas, and Kundry to be one of their favorite characters. It truly is one of those "love it/hate it" operas."

My favorite line in the entirety of the world of opera is uttered neither by the title character, nor Kundry, but rather Gurnemanz who, during their journey to the Grail Temple responds to Parsifal’s notice having barely trod, yet seems already to have traveled far, utters:

Du siehst, mein Sohn, zum Raum wird hier die Zeit.
(You see, my son, here space becomes time)

For me, this magical bit of metaphysics applies not only to the journey at hand, but to the entirety of the opera itself and the world in which its inhabitants find themselves, most pointedly to Kundry who for nearly a thousand years has restlessly roamed from realm-to-realm.

Though with only one twice repeated word (“Dienen”) to sing in Act 3, I believe Kundry makes as strong an impression in this act - or has the opportunity so to do - as any the other principals. To be effective the singer, even with only four notes, (and, of course, her entrance groan) must be felt from deep down beneath Kundry's skin. While Act II is where she shines vocally, Act III's two scenes are moving for each of the characters of the story(sans Klingsor). The ordinance of humility and Kundry’s baptism perfectly sets the stage for the second Grail Temple scene, with Wagner's sensational Transformation Music. Here transformation is an apt description not only for what we see occurring onstage, (the shifting from outdoor wilderness to indoor temple) but what we ourselves have witnessed of the characters who likewise have themselves transformed. I've always likened this moment to each having passed through the proverbial refiner's fire: The world weary, tortured Kundry finally finds her rest, the once haughty (and mildly intolerant) Gurnemanz is now the epitome of patience and humility, the hopelessly wounded Amfortas is finally healed, the once Innocent Fool has grown with wisdom and assumes his position as the new Grail King. In only his second Grail Temple experience, Parsifal has attained a level of understanding and awareness previously unimaginable, and the final words expressed by the chorus of Knights, children and the other participants in this moving moment of wonder could not be more profound: The redeemer is redeemed.

Many modern audiences (not me) have a problem with many newer productions having Kundry remain a live at the end, but my strongest preference is always to allow her to die. On the opposite end of the stick I know many who despise Wagner's stage direction "Kundry sinks silently to the ground" calling it a Victorian or puritanical "judgment." This train of thought I simply can’t agree with seeing it this way: release is what all Kundry has longed for (far long before we meet her). She's earned it, and Wagner's score, shimmering, shining and filled with the resolution of a long hoped for freedom, provides us with every indication her suffering is now at an end and Kundry is, at long last, finally at peace.

It remains amazing to me how Wagner's music ever matches this bizarre, complex bizzare twist of a tale with equal parts carnality, rage, torment and hope filling it with some of his most beguiling music. Yet, more amazing still is when I'm caught up in it, I often forget I'm even listening to music at all, such is the total effect that I feel almost as though I've entered someone else's reality. Wagner’s final work is so powerful even just writing, thinking, or talking about it can put tears in my eyes and make my blood run just a bit faster.

Enthüllet den Gral! Öffnet den Schrein!

Considering Kundry (Opera's Most Fascinating Character)

Years ago my feathers got ruffled when I read an article arguing Kundry leaves an insignificant impact in Wagner's Parsifal. He stated incorrectly Kundry's only lines are in Act 2 "and even then limited," and suggested it doesn't even matter WHO sings Kundry, and expressed wonder as to why any singer with a major career would take on this unrewarding role.

Of course, Kundry being one of the characters I find the most fascinating in the world of opera, I nearly fell from my chair and responded with my having heard seen and/or heard (live or on recording) Kundry sung by the likes of Maria Callas, Christa Ludwig, Martha Modl, Jessye Norman, Tatiana Troyanos, Angela Denoke, Catherine Malfitano, Waltraut Meier, Renata Scotto, Rita Gorr, Leonie Rysanek, Irene Dalis, Violetta Urmana, Regine Crespin, Linda Watson, Katarina Dalayman, Petra Lang, Eva Randova, Yvonne Minton, Michelle DeYoung, Anne Gjevang, Gillian Knight, Gwyneth Jones. Evidence enough of the role's power to attract a widely diverse roster of celebrated singers.

I can think of few characters more fascinating, more troubling, more perplexing and ultimately more touching, than Wagner's hybrid distillation of several of the Grail myths more interesting females. Wagner seems to have carved this fascinating creature from von Eschenbach, Chretien de Troyes, and God only knows who else. Von Eschenbach describes her as "a woman so talented that she spoke all languages: Latin, Heathen and French . . . familiar with both dialectic and geometry; and she haad also knowledge of astrononomy . . . (her) nickname the sorceress. Her mouth was not restrained for she could say quite enough (and) with it she dampened much joy." That's our gal! In each act Kundry seems not only transformed, but is transforming right before us! What a gift Wagner has given the singer of this role . and what a marvelous challenge!

In Act 1, we're presented with this mysterious, wild woman of dubious character, which in no way prepares us for the seductress we're introduced to in the second act. Even then, we continue to witness her pain and the torture she's endured throughout the entire act.

Many operatic characters have screams written into the score, but, for me, none is more chilling than the moans and screams of Kundry, because we're witnessing the ultimate horror; someone realizing they are still alive, when that is the last thing they want to be.

Kundry's second meeting with Parsifal is one of the most fascinating scenes in all of opera. Beginning with "Parsifal Weile!" what ensues is of such a complex nature that it rattles my mind, this even after spending a lifetime with these characters. Throughout, we see this tortured, conflicted and ultimately cursed woman, helplessly bound to continuing Klingsor's dirty deeds, yet now, touched by this innocent fool, she longs for salvation. When she comes clean revealing her thousand year old secrets, she has in a sense found another victim as we witness Parsifal's own confliction, and at the same time, the beginning of an understanding of his place in the world.

A most wordy guy, Wagner was seldom prone towards repeating a word, a practice more common in operas that precede his own, so when he does so, the effect is of such dramatic significance that we can almost hear the gears turning in his characters’ minds. With fever pitch intensity, we hear Parsifal cry out:

"Amfortas! - -
Die Wunde! - Die Wunde! -
Sie brennt in meinem Herzen.
Oh, Klage! Klage!
Furchtbare Klage!
Aus tiefstem Herzen schreit sie mir auf.
Oh! - Oh! -
Elender!
Jammervollster!
Die Wunde sah ich bluten, -
nun blutet sie in mir! -
Hier - hier!
Nein! Nein! Nicht die Wunde ist es.
Fliesse ihr Blut in Strömen dahin!
Hier! Hier im Herzen der Brand!

All of those repeated words present us with a device that, given the right singer, has the potential to shatter an audience as we witness before our eyes (and ears), the Innocent Fool in a profound epiphany of heartstricken terror, pain, realization, understanding, and most importantly of all, empathy.

Even as a child, I was drawn to, what my mother would call, "sad stories." I still am, and it's no wonder that my favorite operas are (I believe) amongst the saddest stories set to music: Parsifal, Wozzeck, Pelleas et Melisande, Don Carlos . . . (you get the idea). There's an ineffable sadness to Parsifal that may be the cause of why it alienates so many operalovers. That quality of sadness, instead of pretending pain or ugliness away, instead embraces and reveals along with it . . . everything: not merely joy and good times, which we reflect on in happier states, but all. Alles. I’ve spoken with a number of others who like me, easily declare Parsifal to be their favorite (or one of their favorite) operas, and Kundry to be one of their favorite characters. It truly is one of those "love it/hate it" operas."

My favorite line in the entirety of the world of opera is uttered neither by the title character, nor Kundry, but rather Gurnemanz who, during their journey to the Grail Temple responds to Parsifal’s notice having barely trod, yet seems already to have traveled far, utters:

Du siehst, mein Sohn, zum Raum wird hier die Zeit.
(You see, my son, here space becomes time)

For me, this magical bit of metaphysics applies not only to the journey at hand, but to the entirety of the opera itself and the world in which its inhabitants find themselves, most pointedly to Kundry who for nearly a thousand years has restlessly roamed from realm-to-realm.

Though with only one twice repeated word (“Dienen”) to sing in Act 3, I believe Kundry makes as strong an impression in this act - or has the opportunity so to do - as any the other principals. To be effective the singer, even with only four notes, (and, of course, her entrance groan) must be felt from deep down beneath Kundry's skin. While Act II is where she shines vocally, Act III's two scenes are moving for each of the characters of the story(sans Klingsor). The ordinance of humility and Kundry’s baptism perfectly sets the stage for the second Grail Temple scene, with Wagner's sensational Transformation Music. Here transformation is an apt description not only for what we see occurring onstage, (the shifting from outdoor wilderness to indoor temple) but what we ourselves have witnessed of the characters who likewise have themselves transformed. I've always likened this moment to each having passed through the proverbial refiner's fire: The world weary, tortured Kundry finally finds her rest, the once haughty (and mildly intolerant) Gurnemanz is now the epitome of patience and humility, the hopelessly wounded Amfortas is finally healed, the once Innocent Fool has grown with wisdom and assumes his position as the new Grail King. In only his second Grail Temple experience, Parsifal has attained a level of understanding and awareness previously unimaginable, and the final words expressed by the chorus of Knights, children and the other participants in this moving moment of wonder could not be more profound: The redeemer is redeemed.

Many modern audiences (not me) have a problem with many newer productions having Kundry remain a live at the end, but my strongest preference is always to allow her to die. On the opposite end of the stick I know many who despise Wagner's stage direction "Kundry sinks silently to the ground" calling it a Victorian or puritanical "judgment." This train of thought I simply can’t agree with seeing it this way: release is what all Kundry has longed for (far long before we meet her). She's earned it, and Wagner's score, shimmering, shining and filled with the resolution of a long hoped for freedom, provides us with every indication her suffering is now at an end and Kundry is, at long last, finally at peace.

It remains amazing to me how Wagner's music ever matches this bizarre, complex bizzare twist of a tale with equal parts carnality, rage, torment and hope filling it with some of his most beguiling music. Yet, more amazing still is when I'm caught up in it, I often forget I'm even listening to music at all, such is the total effect that I feel almost as though I've entered someone else's reality. Wagner’s final work is so powerful even just writing, thinking, or talking about it can put tears in my eyes and make my blood run just a bit faster.

Enthüllet den Gral! Öffnet den Schrein!

Domingo Becomes The Fat Man

UPSS International/Arts Desk

Domingo Becomes "The Fat Man"
UPSS International/Arts Desk

The latest new role for supertenor Placido Domingo will be playing another supertenor: Luciano Pavarotti. "I'm excited for this opportunity to portray my friend and . . . we can admit it now . . . sometimes rival, the wonderful Luciano Pavarotti," Domingo told a small clutch of television and news reporters gathered outside of the Deutsche Oper Berlin, the company which has commissioned the new opera scheduled to open its 2011-12 season.

Titled "The Fat Man," the new opera is being composed by controversial German composer, Beat Furrer, whose previous opera "Begehren" was an enormous artistic success at the 2003 Festival in Graz where its enormous staging required it to be produced in a converted factory space large enough for its installation.

"Begehren was a controversial retelling of the Orfeo and Euridice myth," explained Furrer, "very static musical language with very little stage movement and with the enormous lighted floors that rose and fell . . . . they were as important as the music. But with my new opera of the Pavarotti things will be different. I will enjoy making the Italian music sounds - or my idea of this sound and working with a man - Domingo - who knew the Pavarotti."

As for portraying his former colleague, Domingo seems to be up to the challenge and approaching it with great humor, "I am a Spaniard singing in German about the life of an Italian opera singer . . . the world of opera is crazy like that! But I'm used to singing in French about Russian Czars and in Italian about French kings and poets and in German about Spanish knights," laughed the still handsome and youthful 69 year old. "So, why not now sing in German about an Italian tenor, right?"

As for what follows "The Fat Man," Domingo laughed again, hinting his portrayal of Pavarotti may be his final operatic role, "After singing 200 different roles, The King of the High C's is a nice exit to the stage, yes?

Maybe.

Opera's Hall of Fame?

"Why has no one created an Opera Hall of Fame?"

*******

At first, I thought, "Hey, yeah." But then envisioned the following scenario. I mean, can you even begin to IMAGINE the vetting process for a singer to be put into the "Opera Hall of Fame?" I can!

Chairman: Okay, Callas.

Committee Member 1: Are you KIDDING ME? The woman slaughtered everything she sang, and don’t give me that “she revived the bel canto” crap . . . the woman was a hack and wouldn’t know bel canto if it bit her in the tuckus, which, by the way, is exactly what sounds like is happening everytime she dared to try to sing the stuff. And don’t EVEN get me started about how she sabotaged her sister Jackie’s career. Now THAT was the Callas who should be in the Hall of Fame! Callas? Pass.

Chairman: Corelli?

Committee Member 2: Say whaaaaat? The guy was a musical joke, a stiff, a putz. Oh sure, nice looking and all, but so what? As subtle as a bull in a china shop and no idea what he was singing. Pass.

Chair: Tucker?

Committee Member 3: You’re crossing the line, bub. First of all, the guy looked ridiculous on stage, and those toupees? He couldn't fool a blind man. Add to that how he turned down lucrative contracts because of his “principles” yet sang everything in lowered transpositions of nearly all he sang.

Chair: Richard Tucker did NOT lower his music!

Committee Member 3: Then you have rocks in your ears. Answer: no room for this guy.

Chair: Okay then . . . Rosa Ponselle?

Committee Member No. 2: Okay, you’re kidding right? C'mon, man . . . No bigger fraud has ever been perpetrated upon the citizens of Operaville than this woman, clearly the least talented of the Ponzillo children.

Chair: Sayou?

Committee Member 5: Haaaaaaahahahaha . . . . hahhhaahahahahaha .. . . hahahahaha hah ha ha ha ha ha hah a hhhh . . . excuse me a moment . . . Bid. . . aHAAAA ha ha ha ha ha . . .

Chair: Moving on, how about Carlo Bergonzi?

Committee Member 6: Are you mad? Man, I heard him once and it was the WORST Otello in modern history . . . Make that history history.

* * * * *


And just TRY to imagine the order of the displays and the discussions amongst fans planning to visit the Hall.

“Joan, dear, we wanted to go to the Opera Hall of Fame, but they put that awful Gianni Poggi just before Pippo’s statue, and as I told you, God and the world, I will not step 10 feet within a tribute of that man.

“Eileen, why don’t you go, and then you can actually spit on Poggi’s tribute en route to see di Stefano’s.”

“Why thank you, Joan; that's an absolutely GRAND idea! Say, why don’t you come with and we’ll make a whole day of it.”

“Are you mad? I’d sooner burn the place to the ground and eat the glowing coals then enter any building that would defile itself honoring del Monaco. Phttt.”

“Well, if I'm gonna go and spit on Poggi, you should come and do something vile to defile del Monaco’s space.”

“Hmmmm . . . Eileen, my friend, you just may be onto something.”


p.