Opera: A dynamic Das Rheingold at NY Philharmonic

The tenure of Alan Gilbert as director of the NY Philharmonic Orchestra is ending this month after eight seasons. The son of two NYPO violinists, he followed a typical Manhattan pattern of insider recruitment. However, he was in many ways an unusual choice for this conservative institution: young, interested in contemporary composers and performing in out-of-the-ordinary venues. He brought needed vigor to a fossilizing institution. The main critiques are that he lacked both 1. glamour (sometimes I think this is more about the conductor’s hair than anything else) and 2. dynamic interpretations of the great orchestral standards. I have noticed that on routine concerts, his body language seems reticent, becoming far more engaged on unusual works or big projects. One of the latter was performed this week—a semi-staged performance of Richard Wagner’s Das Rheingold. This dynamic performance was one of the best I have seen of any of the Wagner Ring operas.

Das Rheingold is often seen as a mere prelude to the big dramas of Brunnhilde, Siegfried, and the incestuous twins that follow in the Ring of the Niebelung cycle. This performance belied that stereotype—it was a gripping dramatic evening, well- staged in the minimal space in front of the orchestra. Conductor, orchestra, and singers seemed to be unified in concept—it was refreshing to see the NY Phil players visually engaged in the proceedings, not just sawing away like a typical pit orchestra would. What was most revelatory was that without the customary “special effects” seen in the opera house, I heard all of the supernatural action in the wondrous music itself. In opera house productions, one is always wondering things like: “Will the rainbow bridge look right?”, “Will Alberich’s transformation into a giant serpent, then a tiny toad look silly?”, and “That doesn’t really look like the Rhine River!”. In this production the setless music forced me to use my imagination, goaded by the singers who responded very much as if the Rhein, serpents, and toads were directly in front of them. This made me appreciate Wagner’s magnificent orchestration and dramatic urgency much more than usual. I was involved from start to finish, and left in awe of the composer’s creation, just as a great performance should do.

Alan Gilbert was animated and fully on top of the 2 1/2 hour single-act score (a killer for orchestra members with weak bladders). The orchestra played very well—this is not their normal repertory, and I assume many were playing the piece for the first time. Perhaps the massed brass lacked some of the chorale-like weight that one would hear at Bayreuth or from the Chicago Symphony, but clarity and detail constantly emerged. I was dissatisfied with the great scene change-transition from the Valhalla heights to the depths of Alberich’s gold mines. Wagner specifies a wild repetitive rhythm of a tuned metal bars, often achieved with large railroad ties, to show the descent into the Niebelheim. The effect is magical in some performances, e.g. in the Georg Solti recorded Ring, which you can listen to here. In this performance the metal sounded tinny, with a distracting woodwind-like tone in the middle of it. Disappointing.  The singers were excellent, with the best being the Alberich of English bass-baritone Christopher Purvis. Purvis reminded us that the title of the cycle is the Ring of the Niebelung, and that Niebelung is Alberich, the dwarf who steals the gold from the Rheinmaidens and gets the whole thing started. Despite his central dramatic importance and  large singing role in this opera, Alberich often is played in a whining, caricature-like way. Here he came across as a full-throated evil genius, making Wotan and the other gods seem like trivial, Trump-like manipulators (part of Wagner’s point). All the roles were well-cast, but I could have used a bit more complexity from Eric Owens’ Wotan, who plays the role of amoral “CEO” of Valhalla in this opera. Some good opportunities for alignment with our amoral, business driven culture were missed, but that’s for another production, perhaps. The ultimate testament to this fine performance was that I left with my head swimming with the musical texture of Wagner, and my separation from the real world lasted an hour or so, marked enough so I missed my stop on the subway, and had to wait an extra hour for the train home to New Rochelle.

Note: The effect of Wagner’s opera on German culture should not be dismissed. I recently watched an excellent and moving 1959 German anti-war film Die Brücke (The Bridge) on the Filmstruck streaming service (suggested for those of you who like art and foreign films). The film portrays a group of typical 17 year old German boys who are drafted into the army in the last days of WW2, and despite little or no training, find themselves thrown in front of American tanks and soldiers, with predictably dire results. Notably, one of the teens was very concerned about the fate of his two rabbits, Wotan and Alberich.