by Richard Wagner
seen on 14 February 2015
This production from English National Opera at the Coliseum was first presented by Welsh National Opera in 2010. Richard Jones has directed the transfer with a new cast including Iain Paterson as Hans Sachs, Gwyn Hughes Jones as Walther von Stolzing, Rachel Nicholls as Eva Pogner, and Andrew Shore as Sixtus Beckmesser. It is set notionally (but not entirely realistically - there are electric lights in the houses) in 1868, the year of the opera's premiere, rather than in the sixteenth century in which Hans Sachs lived.
Great resources are required for the successful staging of this opera - a typically large Wagnerian orchestra, a large chorus, and a number of excellent soloists, all marshalled over a period of up to six hours (depending on speeds and interval breaks - ENO's performance lasted the full six hours). In all areas, this production triumphs. Iain Paterson sang the part of Sachs with great warmth and power, yet seemed almost conversationally approachable, an extraordinary feat in the vastness of the Coliseum. Andrew Shore was a believably fussy, self-important and self-deluded bachelor, bringing great comic flair to a character who is all too often seen as merely an embarrassing example of Wagner's personal vindictiveness. Gwyn Hughes Jones, an older Walther (where Sachs and Beckmesser are younger than usual, drawing the rivalry for Eva into slightly different territory), sang the lyrical role with beautiful effect, while Rachel Nicholl's Eva was in radiant form. The augmented ENO chorus sang the great chorale-like tunes with uplifting precision, while the orchestra under Edward Gardner played marvellously well, from the most delicate passages of quiet reflection to the overpowering grandeur of the climactic cadences.
The musical quality was supported by sympathetic and strong direction, giving shape to the long scenes and providing the soloists with many opportunities for subtle interaction. The crowd scenes were well-managed - a subdued church congregation in Act I, rioting townspeople made more comic by being in nightshirts in Act II, and happy but restrained public celebration in gorgeous pastiche renaissance costumes in Act III (costumes: Buki Shiff). The sets by Paul Steinberg ranged from abstract indications of a church (Act I) and a pavilion in a field (Act III Scene 2) via a whimsical townscape (Act II) to an incredibly detailed interior (Sachs's living-cum-work room, Act III Scene 1), and were ideal for staging the various encounters required by the piece. The interior was particularly suitable for the wonderful 'christening' quintet in which Sachs, Walther and Eva were joined by the apprentice David, newly made journeyman for the occasion (a dishevelled but sunny Nicky Spence) and his beloved Magdalena, Eva's companion (a self-possessed Madeleine Shaw). Together they 'christen' Walther's new song, apparently a signal of its recognition as a worthy Mastersong. The idea might look somewhat ridiculous on the page, but the quintet, here sung most beautifully while a sheet of the newly written out song hangs for the ink to dry in a shaft of brilliant white light, serves to underline the intense seriousness with which the community appreciates art.
The opera shows the tension between ossified rules to determine quality - represented by the stringent requirements for becoming a Mastersinger - and the genius of personal artistic inspiration - represented by Walther's poetic effusions. Hans Sachs, a cobbler and an established Mastersinger, sees the virtue of allowing exceptions to rules, and connives at Walther's success while still supporting the necessity for strength of community purpose. The issue is complicated by the fact the the winner of the midsummer song contest will win Eva as his bride (should she accept him); and while Eva and Walther are clearly in love, Sachs also has strong feelings for Eva, which he must forego if he supports Walther. The former is of course a subject dear to Wagner's polemical heart, while the latter reflects the course of his love for Mathilde von Wesendock. It is not surprising therefore that with characteristic subtlety he identifies with both the radical new art of Walther and the wise renunciation of Hans Sachs. Consequently there is ravishing music for Walther to sing - his first poem, though dismissed as a failure by the rulebound Mastersingers Guild, has a lilting beauty, while his more polished piece in Act III has a more formal attractiveness. For Sachs there is the broad comedy of his cobbler's song 'marking' the hapless Beckmesser's attempt at serenading, but also pieces of worldly-wise reflection which show Wagner's mastery of the long speaking line just as much in this benign setting as in the more doom-laden contexts of the Ring or 'Parsifal'.
The opera has been tarnished by Nazi associations, in particular because at the end Sachs makes a polemical appeal for German art in nationalistic terms which were all too easily co-opted by the Third Reich. The episode is gratuitously attached to the comedic squabbling over acceptable styles of singing and the resolution of Eva's marriage problem which together provide the real focus of the piece - but it cannot be cut without damage. Richard Jones's solution is to deflect the unfortunate associations by having the chorus and cast hold up portraits of prominent German intellectuals and artists in support of the importance of the tradition. It is anachronistic, oddly moving, but a little frustrating in that - as for the famous Sgt Pepper's album cover - one needs an index to cope with all those portraits one does not recognise.
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