Tom Stoppard once wrote a wicked play about Hamlet in which the prince is
a minor figure in the background. The San Francisco Opera today reached
"Siegfried" in the "Ring" cycle, and it managed very well, but without the
singer in the title role. "Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead" is funny;
"Siegfried" shouldn't be.
But we did great, even without a tenor, thanks to Donald Runnicles. He
is the lead character, the hero, the Maestro, whose musical direction
makes the company's million-dollar investment in the production quite
unnecessary: just close your eyes and you're in heaven. Not just any
place of bliss: a lush, sensuous, *Italian* kind, in which the music is
sweeping, singing, raging, whispering, and passionate as hell. Georg
Solti, eat your heart out.
Runnicles' orchestra is also consistent, relentless, never letting up
for a second. A tiny orchestral bridge in the Wotan-Mime quiz had all
the abandoned, climactic commitment you'd expect (and get) from the end of
the love duet. In the quiet "night music" that opens each act, Runnicles'
touch was feather-like, magical.
Terrence McEwen, when he planned for the 1985 "Ring" that's the basis of
this month's four cycles, rejected "tacky, unsatisfactory interpretations,"
calling for "the romantic, lush, sensual quality that is characteristic of
Wagner... lushest, most romantic music ever written except -- possibly --
for some Tchaikovsky." [An Italian composer in my book...:]
It's strange that McEwen's wish is fulfilled by a Scott conducting an
American orchestra, but that's what makes this "Ring"... well, *sing*.
Runnicles also keeps beautiful balances, he supports the singers, but never
lets the lines go slack. And, when it's over, he stands aside and lets the
orchestra take the bow -- which these musicians richly deserve.
Before more good news, here's the bad one: Wolfgang Schmidt in the
title role. Today, he was not nearly as awful as expected after his
recent Tristan here, but at this point in his career, he has a thin
"Russian-tenor" head voice, doing mostly fine in soft passages, but --
hello?! -- Siegfried needs *some* oomph, yes? Schmidt has no power, not
in volume, not in projection. During five hours in the War Memorial this
afternoon, Schmidt hit exactly *two* high notes on pitch and with the
proper strength. That leaves oh so much left to be desired -- forging
Notung or conquering Bruennhilde don't come across well sotto voce.
The rest of the cast: good to excellent. Gary Rideout's Mime is
mesmerizing, both in voice and in performance. At times, he overdoes the
"grotesque dwarf" bit (and this could be stage director Andrei Serban's
responsibility), but the fact is you cannot take your eyes or ears off him.
The "Rheingold" gang is back in full force: James Morris is keeping up
a consistently wonderful performance that makes us forget recent Scarpias
and the like. Except for the need for clearer diction, Morris' Wanderer
was splendid today. Tom Fox's Alberich too makes up for some not so
great appearances lately ("Tristan").
Elena Zaremba's Erda and Eric Halfvarson's Fafner had so much physical,
chest-hitting power (he amplified, she isn't) that they could have loaned
some to Schmidt and still come across grand.
Volume, sheer beauty of voice, great projection: Jane Eaglen's Bruennhilde
had it all. There is the slightest hint of hooded quality to her voice,
the sound not quite out in front -- but that may be just in my perception,
based on the memory of less successful performances from her than this one.
Direction and performance for that Act 3 orgy on the mountain top between
Schmidt and Eaglen was totally devoid of any suggestion of s_x. Thank
goodness. Serban is a smart cookie.
The supertitles in the new production are better than ever: brief, clear,
hitting the high points, not bothering with what is not essential. (Those
in charge *tried* to avoid the inevitable laughter by simply skipping the
translation, but the audience was properly myrthful anyway at "Das ist kein
Mann.")
Janos Gereben/SF
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