Staging
The big thing in Bayreuth is stage machinery. Every production does some technical thing, if only one thing, amazingly well and no doubt at great expense. It is worth going there to see these devices in action, even if they are not always used well.
In "Dutchman" it was a staircase that had no visible support but held almost the entire chorus, about 100 singers (see photo below); this production also used video very cleverly. When the opera opens, for example, the storm at sea is projected onto the lower part of the set; soon the deep red curtain rises to reveal a perfect mirror of the world "below stairs," as it were (i.e., inverted). The staircase obviously was massively supported from behind the set wall; very impressive.
In "Tannhäuser" the big thing, used only once, alas, was an elevator that whisked the Venusberg scene up and back silently and swiftly. Venus was sitting or standing on the platform on which she and the hero argued, and when he finally rejected her the whole thing just vanished from sight, a brilliant effect, cinematic (one has to say it). Unfortunately the reappearance of Venus in Act 3 is accompanied by red light only, cheap.
In "Lohengrin" there two devices in control of the production. King Henry and his knights, usually on stage when the prodution begins, were here lowered by means of a vast elevator that reached from one end of the stage to another. When it was used again, in act 2, the two rows of gold-clad knights were accompanied by rows above them of dummy knights wearing the same gear, a powerful evocation of church architecture, e.g., an altarpiece. When Teleramund is killed (as George scornfully notes below) the stage platform tilts at a sharp angle and spills water into the hole the hero will later roll into. (Versions of the tilting platform and the elevator were both used in previous "Ring" productions.)
"Tannhäuser"
We thought that Arlaud's ideas for "Tannhäuser," insofar as the set expressed them, were
trivial. You can see in Act 2, when the song contest has collapsed, that Elizabeth picks up a sword and uses it to protect the disgraced
hero.
There's a hint here of the big thing in opera produtions these days, which we will call
"Frauenmacht," the 21st century's version of "all power to the people," in this case, "all power to
the women." However, Elizabeth dutifully trails off to expire
in Act 3,
so at least the director stuck with the plot, and the final ensemble was gloriously sung over her
corpse, surrounded with white flowers on a black bier. The set in Act 3 (also for Act 1, scene 2),
is something like a tunnel or underpass (as George saw it), with grass and flowers
inexplicably growing down from above as well as up from below. The point being--? Should it
look like a vortex, or what? One merit of
the design, which is otherwise mysterious, is that it reflects the staging method of early Bayreuth
productions, which arranged flats of scenery in seven receeding rows or "alleys" parallel to the
curtain. These "alleys" correspond to the 7 divisions used to mark the gradual narrowing of the
house from the back boxes to the stage. Perspective was important to the design of the house, and
this production at least nodded to that tradition in its sets.
"Lohengrin"
This was the most objectionable of the three we saw. It introduced extraneous characters and
deliberately set
stage action against the libretto; it also failed to deliver any visual punch for any--any--of
the
opera's most dramatically and musically exciting moments and was generally mired in conceptual
murk from beginning to end.
George's summary:
Overture:
During the overture, three vignettes appear murkily behind a
scrim:
Act I:
Elsa's normally dramatic entrance when summoned by the king is
vitiated by the fact that the director has her already onstage as part of
the general crowd. As she sings her opening aria ("Elsa's Dream") a shield
and sword rise from the sinkhole, then sink again. Does anybody else see them? The approach of
Lohengrin is heralded by the chorus as they marvel at the swan-drawn boat
they see approaching. This is represented onstage by the lowering of a box
high overhead, in which a person can be seen briefly thrashing around until
the box is hauled back up to the flies. A curtain [AJF: a big box, actually, that cracks open,
then closes; it was embarrassing to see the chours peering into this hole, getting more and more
excited by something they couldn't see; delusional?] splits at the back of the
stage letting very bright, white, light spill out--in a most un-magical way.
The assembled nobles face the back of the stage and we hear Lohengrin's
voice in his opening aria, but we can't tell where he is. Finally one of
the crowd
turns to face us, as we see that he is Lohengrin. For the duel between
Lohengrin and Telramund, a screen of bedsheets is erected, thus saving the
cost of a fencing coach for the singers. When the sheets come down,
Telramund is on the ground, defeated.
Act II:
Wagner sets the first scene outside the fortress of Antwerp and
calls for the banished Ortrud and Telramund to be alone onstage. Our
director prefers to set the scene in a desert ditch above which a segment of
highway seems to rest. In this desert, Ortrud and Telramund light a
campfire and recline on upholstered furniture beside a round, carved table
with decanter. They are not alone. Unidentified persons encircle Telramund
and wave their hands over his head for a while before wandering off. [AJF: One of them is
cutting
his hair, I think, punishment? banishment? shame?] Up on
the highway, Elsa and Lohengrin sit motionless in chairs facing one another,
but separated by a screen. [AJF: They were covered by the big box mentioned above, which is
lifted up to reveal them sitting on opposite sides of the screen, which obviously represents the
"secret" between them.] As the act progresses, Wagner has the
unsuspecting Elsa appear at her window, respond to the scheming Ortrud's
blandishments, and come down to admit Ortrud into the women's quarters.
("Thus does mischief enter this house!") In this version, the highway
segment rotates until Lohengrin is out of sight behind the screen (which
then collapses). Elsa comes down from the highway for her scene with Ortrud,
but at its end they leave the stage in opposite directions, pausing for a
long moment to point at each other. (Thus no mischief enters any
house--except the mischief of the director in the Festival house.)
For the procession to the minster, the highway segment becomes a tilted platform with little pull-out trays on each side where individual cast members can stand at key moments. Elsa is flat out on the platform, encircled by a spiralling white train, as the lights come up. [AJF: She has obviously slept through her alarm on her wedding day, a pretty ditsy touch in a "Frauenmacht" production like this one.] A drawbridge descends stage right, permitting access to the platform where Elsa is lying. A double row of bridesmaids walks up the sloping bridge to Elsa, who now stands, and they hold her long train over their heads. Ortrud, disguised in Telramund's coat, strides between the two rows of women, underneath the train, until she reaches Elsa, casts off her husband's coat, and begins the great confrontation scene. The King, Elsa, Lohengrin, and Telramund take their places on their little slide-out trays. No one moves to restrain the terrible behavior of Telramund and Ortrud, so apparently their banishment under threat of death has slipped everyone's mind. As the act reaches its climax, a second drawbridge descends stage left, connecting the platform to the stage wings. The procession can now leave the platform and continue its upward progress. But it doesn't. Everybody just stays where they are. Big waste of drawbridge. [AJF: Big waste of magnificent processional music, too, roaring away as the characters stand still.]
Act III:
The bridal chamber is the platform, now level, and furnished with
a black leather chaise and a small chair. It rotates continuously during the scene. A procession of
about a dozen bridesmaids enters stage left with folded white cloths over outstretched arms. They line up across the front of the stage, face the audience,
unfold their cloths, and spread them on the ground like beach towels. Black-clad knights enter
stage right, line up facing the bridesmaids, and place their swords on the beachtowels. The maids
wrap the swords individually and leave the wrapped swords lying across the front of
the stage for the rest of the act.
Telramund, Ortrud, and the Four Nobles lurk in the culvert below, as Elsa and Lohengrin
have their great scene in which she asks the fatal question. Gradually the Act I sinkhole reappears
downstage. As things begin to go bad, Elsa leaves the platform, rushes to the front of the stage
and frantically begins gathering up all the wrapped swords until her arms are completely full of
swords. (Good thing they're Mylar stage props, or she'd never be able to hold them all--not to
mention the cuts!) The purpose of this is so that she
can then drop them again, which she proceeds to do. When
Telramund rushes Lohengrin and is slain by him, the platorm suddenly lurches
into a steep tilt, and several gallons of water spill out of it into the
sinkhole.
As the final scene opens, a large number of black-clad soldiers engage in
swordfighting. (No explanation for this in the libretto.) In the final
scene, the King has become unaccountably enfeebled, unable even to lift his
sword, although he was hale and hearty up to now. Allen tells me he also
collapses and dies. (I missed that, as the stage was extremely murky; also the king was far right
and upstage.) Lohengrin explains his identity and that he
must return to his native land. The swan is supposed to reappear now, but in this version, an
unidentified
child comes in carrying a dead swan ("Parsifal," anyone?). This dead swan is NOT transformed
into Gottfried. At some point, four children come rushing down from the hillside
and flatten themselves on the stage. Adult persons wave their hands over
the children's heads for a while. Lohengrin approaches one of them, saying
"See here the Duke of Brabant!" But this child shakes his head and
indicates that it's not him but one of the other kids who is Gottfried. So
Lohengrin gives that kid his sword. Then, instead of leaving in a
dove-drawn boat, as per Wagner, he lies down and rolls into the sinkhole.
Elsa does not sink lifeless to the ground. Instead, she joins hands with
her tormentor, Ortrud, and gazes up at her smiling. Curtain.
[AJF: Wild cheers followed for the "Frauenmacht" production. My analysis follows:
Ticketing
In case you are wondering, we have ordered tickets to the festival every year since 1983 (friends in Germany gave us tickets to "Parsival" in 1982, so we have been there four times). In 1987 we received tickets to "Lohengrin" (Werner Herzog's exciting production was new that year), "Tannhäser," and "Meistersinger," the latter two pretty flat. In 1993 we receive ticketse to Dieter Dorn's sensational "Dutchman," the same "Lohengrin," which we were delighted to see again, and "Parsifal," unremarkable visually but featuring Placido Domingo--a rare first-rate star in a Bayreuth cast. Our tickets in row 19 cost about $165 and were closer to the center than to the sides. The sound was marvelous and most of the time there was little or no stage noise; perhaps the banging away in Act 2, scene 2, was supposed to wake up Elsa, but somebody should bang away and wake up the Festival director.