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selenakRheingold yesterday was a good start for the new Ring. Not without hitches - I thought Tankred Dorst should have been daring and chucked the one present day dress person he used per main place of location (one for Valhalla, one for the mining shafts of the Nibelungs, and in the end three children for Valhalla again), because the rest of the scenes had moments of pure magic - the opening image, for example, really managed to conjure up a river from below the water surface, and the Nibelungs later, forced to serve Alberich, were pitiable and unheimlich at the same time. I have seen so many modern dress productions of the Ring that I really long for someone to do it as unabashed fantasy, Lord-of-the-Rings-as-filmed-by-Peter-Jackson style. And Dorst, in sequences, came close.
Singers and conductor (Christian Thielmann) were in fine form, and there is just nothing like hearing the first notes of Rheingold literaly coming from the depth, in the opera house specifically build for performing it. But it was ever so hot, and they must have been melting on stage as much as we did in the audience. Poor old Fasolt had to be carried by his fellow giant Fafnir after the second round of applause because one of his leg enhancers broke, and because he was just that done in by the heat.
Lastly, and before I hurry off to prepare for the next round, here's yours truly, my mother, and a friend of ours in front of the Festspielhaus, the quintessential cushions (Bayreuth surviving tool par excellence!) on one side. I'm the one in the middle:
Singers and conductor (Christian Thielmann) were in fine form, and there is just nothing like hearing the first notes of Rheingold literaly coming from the depth, in the opera house specifically build for performing it. But it was ever so hot, and they must have been melting on stage as much as we did in the audience. Poor old Fasolt had to be carried by his fellow giant Fafnir after the second round of applause because one of his leg enhancers broke, and because he was just that done in by the heat.
Lastly, and before I hurry off to prepare for the next round, here's yours truly, my mother, and a friend of ours in front of the Festspielhaus, the quintessential cushions (Bayreuth surviving tool par excellence!) on one side. I'm the one in the middle:
