❧ Richard Wagner, «Twilight of the Gods» («Götterdämmerung»). National Taichung Theater, October 4, 2019. Conducted by Shaojia Lü [呂紹嘉], directed by Carlus Padrissa, staged by La Fura Dels Baus. Brünnhilde played by Rachel Nicholls, Siegfried by Lance Ryan, Hagen by Andrea Silvestrelli, Gunter by Lauri Vasar, Gutrune by Sandra Trattnigg.
Figure: Poster of the performance, retrieved from the ticked-selling page.
This was the first time I entered this lofty modernistic building having opened about precisely 3 years ago. One walked in the middle of huge curved pillars, and came up several set of stairs to get to the big hall where the performance was to take place. There were other smaller-sized halls. There, a large orchestra pit could be accommodated, which the National Concert Hall couldn’t do. Before the performance, I attended a helpful listening guide starting at about 16:00 in the medium hall, presented by Daiwei Lü [呂岱衛]. We were given free brochures, which summarized the plot and leitmotifs (without score examples).
Act 1 lasted from 17:15 to 19:10, Act 2 from 19:45 to 20:45, Act 3 from 21:10 to 22:30. In the two long intermissions, stands were selling absurdly expensive light food, but hungry people still bought that, including me. When it ended, I feared that I couldn’t catch the train back to Taipei. But I managed to stay for another 10 minutes to give a standing ovation, which was more important. Then I took a taxi, and caught the very last train, making perfect use of every minute.
Previously, I kind of thought Wagner to be dry, even hypnotic. While this Spanish team had collaborated with National Taichung Theater for 4 years in a row, this time I decided to give the last one in the franchise a try. I wondered what a full-fledged production of the «Ring» would be like, and the «Ring» wasn’t commonly performed in entirety. And I didn’t regret it at all! Wagner was meant to be watched after all.
With the 3 000 NTD ticket, I was seated at the point one-third-the-width to the right wall, and one-third-the-depth to the back wall, close enough to see their facial expression. The acoustic experience was really great. The orchestra played smoothly, and I couldn’t identify any mistake. Tubas, timpani, and double bassoons were particularly grandiose to hear in real time. The singers were impressive too. Apart from the daunting register and sheer volume that Wagner demands, the roles of Siegfried and Brünnhilde called for a youthful vividness. In particular, Siegfried’s part was challenging; there were passages marked piano but involving notes as high as a' , and his highest note was c''! When he was dying–kneeling and lying face-down on the floor and calling Brünnhilde–Siegfried’s player sang as effortlessly as before. Hagen’s player had a particularly sonorous voice, being somehow coarse but not irritatingly so, which strangely suited the sinister character. Though the voices of Siegfried and Brünnhilde’s players were able to compete with the orchestra, the resounding voice of Hagen’s was particularly overwhelming.
Meanwhile, the singers’ interpretation appeared to be more controlled than liberal, perhaps because I was too accustomed to recordings.
On the other hand, the stage and costume design were eccentric. The costume was in the style of science fiction. That apart, there were more strange symbolisms all over the place, like numbers in Chinese characters, and a \(\pi\) as big as his chest printed on the back of Gunther’s coat. (I didn’t expect LaTeX to come in handy in this music review.) Everybody was in western suits, except for the quasi-primitive outfit Siegfried wore in the beginning.
Most of the time, the stage was free of props, and the surroundings were hinted only by projected images. The minimalism certainly wasn’t what Wagner had expected, considering that the composer built a cutting-edge theater to host his lavish production. The minimalism could be too much, for example in the very last dramatic event, where Hagen should have been devoured into the Rhine. This wasn’t shown literally, but instead Hagen rode on an electronic unicycle and fell onto the ground. (It was difficult to tell what was happening in the midst of a swarm of acrobats.)
There were some acrobatic performances, which wasn’t a bad thing, but such endeavors weren’t integrated smoothly into the story. In end of Act 1, the performers in skin-colored bodysuit, possibly suggesting they were naked, wiggled on the rock on which Brünnhilde resided, when Siegfried, disguised as Gunther, swore by the sword that he wouldn’t touch Brünnhilde. Then in the end of Act 2, the performers made virtuoso jumps in the realm of gods. And in the end of Act 3, the performers, hung like flying trapeze, again impressively circled around Siegfried’s dead body, which was supposedly the building of Valhalla. (It might be due to ease of arrangement, that they always introduced acrobats in the concluding section only.) I wasn’t sure about what these acrobat sections signified. Nevertheless, they did make good use of the vertical visual room of the spacious hall.
In addition to acrobats, the director was trying very hard to prevent audiences from sleeping, by projecting animation on the screen, when instrumental interludes were playing. It showed, for instance, in Act 2 the sea Siegfried was sailing in, when he went on his adventures. But animation could be a tad ludicrous, considering the serious nature of the drama.
The plot of the whole «Ring» cycle is mostly well-thought-out. Interlocking action, out of love and hatred, loyalty and betrayal, makes characters well-rounded and sophisticated. Introduction of physical devices, like the ring and the helmet, often foreshadows later development. It is so heart-wrenching that, if any character had thrown the ominous ring away, they would have avoided their doom, and even the fearless Sigfried couldn’t overcome his fate.
Admittedly, there are some inconsistencies in the plot. To take an example, in the end of Act 2, surely Gunter doesn’t know the fact that Brünnhilde has been united with Siegfried. But when Brünnhilde says that there is a vulnerable spot on Siegfried’s back, doesn’t Gunter suspect that there is something between them? As another instance, why is Siegfried just about to come to the Gibichungs’ castle, the moment Hagen, Gunther, and Gutrune there finishes the discussion of their evil plan? (Such problems might also be due to the limitation of scene transition.)
Speaking of Wagner’s music, the heart of his success, or failure, is his use of leitmotifs. In its best, the effect is remarkably satisfying. As Siegfried recounts his adventure, previous leitmotifs appear, corresponding to the topic, all constructed tightly and organically. When Brünnhilde jumps into the flames to her death, a series of interwoven leitmotifs eloquently summarizes the whole franchise, suggesting the theme of destruction and redemption.
Then how can Wagner still appear abstruse to many? It may have something to do, I guess, with his melodies, which usually lack a distinctive contour. They follow leitmotifs rather faithfully, and they aren’t changed and developed as much as what Beethoven often does. Having went to the opera, I remember very little of the melody, but the ever-repeating leitmotifs are hard to forget, even irritating.
Also, Wagner seldom writes heavy contrapuntal lines, nor introduces complicated rhythms. Most sections feature a single voice, as if the singers are just another instrument, and I would appreciate if he had written more duets and trios. (The argument between Gunter, Brünnhilde, and Hagen in the end of Act 2, is one of the scarce examples of a trio.)
Sometimes Wagner uses higher chords and their rarer variations, like the half-diminished ninth {C; A; F; D} / B, where the minor ninth is really clashing. But apart from such peculiarities, he keeps a fairly classical vocabulary, which can sound incongruous.
Wagner still isn’t one of my favorite composers; to me, the leitmotif thing doesn’t quite work out. But I recognize his effort and praise his ingenuity, and I do replay other «Ring» albums on Spotify from time to time. Perhaps some day my liking for him will grow, perhaps not.
❧ early October, 2019; revised and shortened July 20, 2021