Das Rheingold
![]() | Georg Solti | |||||
Orchester der Bayreuther Festspiele | ||||||
Date/Location
Recording Type
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Wotan | Siegmund Nimsgern |
Donner | Heinz-Jürgen Demitz |
Froh | Maldwyn Davies |
Loge | Manfred Jung |
Fasolt | Manfred Schenk |
Fafner | Dieter Schweikart |
Alberich | Hermann Becht |
Mime | Peter Haage |
Fricka | Doris Soffel |
Freia | Anita Soldh |
Erda | Anne Gjevang |
Woglinde | Agnes Habereder |
Wellgunde | Diana Montague |
Floßhilde | Birgitta Svendén |
In high school physics we were told that for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction. That law still seems to be in force, even in the other world of opera. So it was no surprise to find Monday night that the new production of Wagner’s ”Ring” at this summer’s Bayreuth festival was in many ways a revulsion against the previous ”Ring” mounted at this Wagnerian shrine, the infamously bad ”French” version unveiled seven years ago by Patrice Chereau under the musical direction of Pierre Boulez.
Now, as the cycle turns, Bayreuth is having a comparatively traditional ”English Ring,” conducted by Sir Georg Solti, directed by Sir Peter Hall and designed by William Dudley. However, if Monday night’s ”Rheingold” was a proper indication of things to come, Bayreuth is in for another period of rabid partisanship and angry dissent, chiefly in respect to the staging, which in ”Das Rheingold” often seemed merely musty and tacky rather than a reminder of the Romantic 19th-century style. And, since the evening’s singing seldom rose above mediocrity, all that redeemed the performance was the conducting, which had the tremendous vitality and momentum typical of the Solti manner.
”Das Rheingold” is a relatively succinct prelude in Wagner’s four-evening saga, but it must set the style and tone for everything to come. It quickly became clear that this production would steer a determinedly conservative, even old-fashioned, course – despite its attempt to be daring – by the time-honored theatrical device of bringing on naked women. In this instance, the bodies belong to three remarkably svelte Rhinemaidens who cavorted in a kind of aquarium and performed water-ballet maneuvers a la Esther Williams.
In theory, the looking-backward approach to Wagner could have worked and might have been a welcome antidote to the egomaniacal excesses of so many directors now loose on the opera scene. So there will be no complaints from this corner that the giants Fafner and Fasolt, for instance, were actually 10-foot monsters carrying pickaxes to remind us that they were disgruntled construction workers demanding pay for their work on the Wotan family’s chateau in Valhalla. No complaints either that when Alberich foolishly changed himself into a toad, a small toadish creature could be seen hopping across the stage.
When it came time for the Wotan clan of gods to enter Valhalla, to the tune of the Rainbow Bridge music, a genuine simulated rainbow hove into view. Good enough: in fact this grand finale, reminiscent of a child’s storybook approach to Wagner, proved to be the evening’s most effective scene.
All right, too, was the scene in Alberich’s underground foundry, which was at least kept steamy enough to obscure possible staging confusion. One could certainly appreciate the director’s effort to make the dwarf’s transformations magical and childishly astonishing, as they must have been in Wagner’s own time. Too bad that in this premiere many effects were so clumsily handled that all illusion was lost.
Granting all the good intentions, it must be said that this ”Rheingold” lacked not only excitement but coherence. The opening scene with the naked Rhinemaidens was conceived on an absolutely spectacular scale, with what appeared to be a pool of genuine, wet water projected onto a scrim. The sex-crazed dwarf Alberich, meanwhile, climbed a huge spongelike phallic symbol to seize some sort of Japanese lantern apparently meant to represent the coveted Rheingold. Actually, he was raised and lowered by an all-too-visible wire and pulley. It was all very confusing, visually, though entertaining in its own way.
Much of the drama was played out on a broken ring that may have been meant as homage to the saucer motif of the Wieland Wagner productions of the 1950’s. However, this saucer was covered in a lurid green Astroturf that seemed to have been torn up rather badly by inept golfers: huge brown divots gave the thing the look of a fairway in August. Perhaps the idea was to suggest that the Wotan suburban estate had seen better days? No wonder Wotan wanted to move to new quarters. These are gods heading into the twilight, obviously.
But whatever points were intended in this production they were not made clearly or consistently. The conception was not so much simple or Romantic as barren and thinly developed. One of the few moments to arrest thought came when the gods entered Valhalla by stepping gingerly past the dead body of the giant Fasolt while wily Loge stood aside musing on the great fall to come.
Should You Change Your Wine Consumption?
In a generally unexceptional cast the most striking characterization came from Hermann Becht as a frantically nasty but pitiable Alberich. Siegmund Nimsgern as Wotan, Peter Haage as Mime, Manfred Schenk and Dieter Schweikart as the giants, and Doris Soffel as Fricka held to a respectable vocal level. Manfred Jung, who replaced Siegfried Jerusalem as Loge, made slight impressions either vocally or dramatically, though his flame-red wig did succeed in setting him apart from the other conventionally coifed gods and goddesses.
Donal Henahan | July 27, 1983


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A production by Peter Hall (premiere)
Manfred Jung replaces Siegfried Jerusalem as Loge.
This recording is part of a complete Ring cycle.