Monday, 23 November 2015

Opera in the Ruhr and Lower Rhine

The Ruhr/Lower Rhine conurbation, or Ruhrgebiet/Niederrhein, is one of the most densely populated areas of western Europe and as a result boasts as many as nine more-or-less fulltime opera companies. This guide, a conflation of the Southern Ruhr and Northern Ruhr pages listed at the top of this blog, provides a personal introduction to each of them, listed in alphabetic order.



DORTMUND




Best known for beer and football, unprepossessing Dortmund can hold its own in the operatic field, too. Theater Dortmund is the kind of place where a Strauss opera, Viennese operetta and West End musical can be in repertoire over the same weekend, yet it also recently mounted the German premiere of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s Anna Nicole, and has had a strong line in Mozart stagings in the last few seasons. As the Intendant’s motto puts on the company’s website, ‘We make the popular challenging and the challenging popular.’ (Its parallel activities in dance, plays and youth theatre combine to make it one of Germany’s busiest theatre operations.) The company operates a semi-stagione system, with productions in rep over several months.



Theatre: the curved roof of this 1960s building, built on the site of the city’s bombed pre-war opera house, is a striking sight, and makes for a light, airy foyer (the ‘working’ part of the theatre is built into the neighbouring office block that comprises the company’s offices and workshops, and is separate from the Schauspielhaus for spoken theatre next door). The box office is just inside the main entrance, between the two entrance doors, and the foyer includes free, full-height lockers in lieu of cloakrooms. The auditorium is partly shaped by the curvature of the roof and seats 1,170 between Parkett and two Logenrängen (‘vineyard-style’ boxed tiers). Theater Dortmund is a 15-minute walk from the Hauptbahnhof – take the subway under the major ring road to the pedestrian zone and follow the red tourist signs via Hansaplatz.



2015/16 repertoire: Tristan und Isolde, Kiss Me, Kate, Hansel und Gretel, La traviata, Rinaldo, Peter Grimes, plus revivals of Le nozze di Figaro, Der Rosenkavalier



Reviews of performances in DortmundRoxy und ihr Wunderteam (Abraham), Don Giovanni



Tickets: €10–49, bookable online, printable or for collection.



Practicalities: Dortmund is a major fulcrum on the Intercity and ICE networks, as well as a major focus of the local train service, so is a useful base. It also has an international airport (served by EasyJet, among others). As such, hotels are plentiful, though they can fill up when Borussia Dortmund is playing at home.



Daytime: despite being flattened in the war, the city has plenty of history, though its cultural interest today lies more in the 20th-21st-century sphere: a leading contemporary art collection in the ‘U’ complex (the city’s former main brewery) and a sobering but fascinating museum covering the city’s history from 1933 to 1945 in the former Gestapo prison just north of the Hauptbahnhof (free admission). On a lighter note, the city is famous for hosting one of the country’s biggest Christmas markets, based around the world’s largest Christmas tree on Hansaplatz. Dortmund’s train connections make much of the rest of the area accessible for trips out.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Essen (23/3/3), Hagen (30/5/2).





DUISBURG




Theater Duisburg is the junior partner in the dual-theatre operation of the Deutsche Oper am Rhein based in Düsseldorf. Indeed, it is junior to the extent that it is in severe danger of being cut back to minimal operatic activities. But for the moment at least it shares productions and staff with the main house in Düsseldorf, though it has its own orchestra, which means performances run in both theatres concurrently, if somewhat more sparingly in Duisburg. It currently puts on about 100 opera and ballet performances a season, running in semi-stagione pattern.



Theatre: a building from 1912, rebuilt in 1950 after bombing, and seating 1,218 in Parkett and two Ränge (see right). The Abendkasse is easily found just inside the entrance. The theatre is under a ten-minute walk from Duisburg Hbf.



2015/16 repertoire: L’elisir d’amore, Turandot, Ariadne auf Naxos, What Next? (Carter)/Trouble in Tahiti (Bernstein), plus revivals of Die Zauberflöte, Aida, Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Hänsel und Gretel, Der fliegender Holländer, Werther, Il trittico, Rigoletto, Der Rosenkavalier



Reviews of performances in Duisburg: Die Zauberflote



Tickets: €15–70, bookable online and printable.



Practicalities: Duisburg is well-connected, being halfway between Düsseldorf and Essen on the intercity network and with plenty of local services well into the evening. As such, it would make a good base, if a rather uninspiring one.



Daytime: Duisburg’s claim to fame is in being Germany’s largest inland port, at the point where the Ruhr runs into the Rhine. There’s a small area of surviving/rebuilt Altstadt near the rivers and revitalised dockland areas for eating/entertainment.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Düsseldorf (20/7/4), Essen (15/7/5), Krefeld (20/3/2).





DÜSSELDORF




As the capital of North-Rhein-Westphalia and with the seventh largest population among German cities, Düsseldorf is the main cultural hub for the whole Rhein-Ruhr region. The city is well enough known and written about not to need further introduction, though other musical draws include its Tonhalle concert hall by the Rhein and a history that included Robert Schumann as its ill-fated director of music in the 1850s. Its opera company, the Deutsche Oper am Rhein, by its very name claiming national status, spills beyond the city to encompass a second base in neighbouring Duisburg (see above). Düsseldorf, though, offers the fuller programme, making it, with the addition of ballet, as busy as the opera companies in Cologne and Essen. It is reasonably well regarded for the scope of its repertoire, and a new Ring cycle has been announced for the 2016–17 season.



Theatre: Düsseldorf Opernhaus is situated on the edge of the Altstadt, the city’s nightlife centre, conveniently next to the well-connected Heinrich-Heine-Allee U-Bahn (underground) station, which is a short three stops from the Hauptbahnhof (or about a half-hour walk). The building, on the site of the bombed-out 19th-century Stadttheater, is a functional and sleak 1950s construction, which can seat just short of 1,300 patrons in a large Parkett and three shallow tiers. Row 14 and back in the Parkett, plus the very sides, are in the overhang, and sides of the upper two tiers offer a somewhat restricted view of the stage.



2015/16 repertoire: Arabella, Die Zirkusprinzessin, Don Carlos, The Golden Cockerel, Die lustige Weiber von Windsor, plus revivals of Die Zauberflöte, Aida, The Fiery Angel, Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Le nozze di Figaro, Hänsel und Gretel, Les contes d’Hoffmann, Tosca, Lohengrin, Lucia di Lammermoor, Don Giovanni, Carmen, Rigoletto, Der Zwerg, Der Rosenkavalier.



Reviews of performances in Düsseldorf: The Fiery Angel (Prokofiev)



Tickets: €15–82, bookable online and printable.



Practicalities: As Düsseldorf is a leading centre for shopping and commerce, there’s no shortage of hotel accommodation, though prices tend to be higher than the rest of the region, especially during trade fairs. There are plenty of options near the Hauptbahnhof, though the area to the south is somewhat insalubrious – the more upmarket places are in the Altstadt or near the Königsallee luxury shopping street. A handful of places include a free Ruhr-wide travelcard for the duration of your stay – always something worth looking out for (equivalent to c.€27 per day, including the full extent of the day you leave). Düsseldorf makes a convenient base for visiting all the other opera houses in the region – Duisburg and Krefeld are even linked by tram. The international airport is an easy ride away via S-Bahn.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Dortmund (60/3/3), Duisburg (16/7/4; plus tram/U-bahn), Essen (40/6/5), Gelsenkirchen (40/2/2), Hagen (45/2/1), Köln (33/4/2), Krefeld (30/3/2; plus tram/U-bahn), Mönchengladbach/Rheydt (33/2/1; plus further deps changing MG Hbf), Wuppertal (20/3/2 + Schwebebahn connection).





ESSEN




Essen runs on a semi-stagione system, with long runs of new productions interspersed with short ones – maybe just three performances – of revivals. It’s often possible to catch two operas in a single visit.



Theatre: Essen has what must be the only opera house since Dresden’s Semperoper to be named after its architect, but the city was so proud of the result that it named the building, completed in 1988, as the Aalto Theater, after its creator, the Finnish master Alvar Aalto, who had died during its long journey to fruition. It is indeed an iconic piece of modern architecture, admired as much for its sleek beauty as for its practicality – gleamingly white outside and in the foyers and refreshingly blue in the auditorium itself, which is highly unusual in being semi-circular but asymmetrical, as if an uneven bite has been taken out of a Greek theatre. It seats 1,125 in Parkett and two slender balconies, giving excellent sight-lines from all areas; the box office is in a little ‘pod’ within the outer foyer. The theatre is less than ten minutes’ walk due south of the Hauptbahnhof and even has its own eponymous tram stop outside. It’s also worth noting that the Essen Philharmonie concert hall – the main symphonic venue in this part of Germany – is virtually next door and hosts all the great visiting orchestras.



2015/16 repertoire: The Greek Passion (Martinů), The Love of Three Oranges, Faust, Elektra, Il barbiere di Siviglia, plus revivals of Fidelio, Madama Butterfly, Macbeth, La bohème, Un ballo in maschera, Die Zauberflöte, Der fliegender Holländer, Into the Little Hill (Benjamin), Aida, Tosca, La traviata, Rusalka, Don Giovanni



Reviews of performances in Essen: Die schweigsame Frau, Le grand macabre



Tickets: €25–47.



Practicalities: Essen’s central location in the Ruhr (it is indeed regarded as its capital) makes it the ideal base – apart from Mönchengladbach, all the region’s venues can be reached comfortably from here. A couple of hotels (InterCity and City Hotel) offer Ruhr-wide public transport tickets in the room price, which is always good value, but there’s a reasonable spread of places to stay at all prices, many of them close to the station and thus the opera house. Note that, as with a number of cities in the region, room rates rise markedly when there’s a trade fair/Messe on. Restaurant choices are fairly limited, both near the opera house and in the central shopping area.



Daytime: Essen markets itself as shopping capital of the Ruhr, but the city also offers some of the region’s cultural highlights. Principal among them must be the Folkswang art gallery, a short walk across the park from the Aalto Theater, and home to one of the best collections of 19th- to 21st-century art anywhere, with representative works from all the great artists from the German Romantics onwards. The other draw is the Zollverein Coking Plant in the city’s northern outskirts, a vast former industrial complex built between the wars in modernist Bauhaus style and now housing a fascinating museum on the Ruhr as a whole and on the mining history in particular. Essen city centre is a pleasant enough place for a wander, with several historic buildings surviving, including its Romanesque church.

A highly recommended excursion is to the neighbouring town of Kettwig, a rare surviving example of a historic townscape in the region, full of old half-timbered buildings clad in the distinctive local green slate and with atmospheric lanes tumbling down to the River Ruhr – there’s also a pleasant riverside path. The S-Bahn line between Essen and Düsseldorf, along which Kettwig sits, is a surprisingly rural and scenic ride. The town centre is a 15-minute walk from either Kettwig or Kettwig-Stausee stations.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Dortmund (23/3/3), Duisburg (15/6/5), Düsseldorf (35/5/4), Gelsenkirchen (8/4/4), Hagen (37/2/1), Krefeld (40/2/2), Wuppertal (46/3/1).





GELSENKIRCHEN

(forthcoming)



2015/16 repertoire: A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Tosca, Norma, La gioconda, Die Fledermaus



Tickets: €11–41



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Dortmund (40/4/4), Essen (8/4/4).





HAGEN




On the face of it, Hagen is one of the more unprepossessing of the Ruhr’s towns: a bit down on its luck, saddled with municipal debt and with few cultural sites, though it is scenically situated among hills and adjacent to some of the River Ruhr’s leisure hotspots on its reservoirs. However, its theatre is one of the region’s more enterprising, tackling interesting repertoire (neglected American operas have been a recent theme) with energy and skill - but catch it soon, since recent budget cuts are currently threatening the company's very existence.



Theatre: Theater Hagen is a Jugendstil building from 1911, reduced to a shell by American bombardment in 1945 and rebuilt four years later. Unfortunately, the rather tired state of the seating suggests not much more has been done to the auditorium since, though it’s otherwise a comfortably intimate, rectangular space with 774 seats distributed between Parkett/Orchester and two upper tiers. A neat widget on the website shows what the view is like from different parts of the theatre. The venue is on one of the main shopping streets, approximately ten minutes’ walk from Hagen Hbf. Note that the box office (including Abendkasse) is in an annexe to the right-hand side of the main frontage and difficult to find from inside the foyer. Hagen uses the semi-stagione system with extended, overlapping runs that also feature musicals.



2015/16 repertoire: Die Zauberflöte, Fidelio, Madama Butterfly, Das Land des Lächelns, Jonny spielt auf (Krenek), Eugene Onegin, Der Rosenkavalier



Reviews of performances in Hagen: Vanessa (Barber)



Tickets: €15–38, bookable online.



Practicalities: It’s possible to stay in Hagen, but other than on a flying visit it may prove preferable to stay in neighbouring Dortmund, Essen or Wuppertal for their greater general cultural attractions and connectibility.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Wuppertal (25/3/1), Essen (39/2/1), Dortmund (30/1/2).





KREFELD




Theater Krefeld is the northern arm of the two-city Theater Krefeld-Mönchengladbach operation (see below for Mönchengladbach) and uses the ‘semi-stagione’ scheduling system. The two theatres share an orchestra, the Lower Rhine (Niederrhein) Symphony, meaning that although seasons run concurrently, individual performances broadly alternate in short batches between the two venues and it is possible to see a couple of different operas in the same theatre on consecutive nights. Although Mönchengladbach and Krefeld are only 25km or a 20-minute train journey apart, the theatres enjoy distinct audiences, as suggested by the fact that a new production given in one venue one season will usually be presented afresh in the other the following year. Repertoire is an eclectic mixture of popular classics with some rarer material – the company was the only one outside the Wagnerian heartland of Leipzig/Berlin to present Rienzi in the composer’s bicentenary year, for example.



Theatre: a modern building situated to the north of the city centre and a good 20-minute walk from Krefeld Hbf, or a five-minute tram ride. Theater Krefeld (right) has an intimate auditorium seating 674 between Parkett and a single balcony.



2015/16 repertoire: Peter Grimes, My Fair Lady, Il barbiere di Siviglia, Die Schone und das Biest (Spohr), Les contes d'Hoffmann



Tickets: €12-38, bookable online and printable.



Practicalities: there’s a convenient Ibis Budget hotel near the station and places to eat in the shopping streets between the Hbf and the theatre, but it’s not the most inspiring place to base oneself for more than a single night.



Daytime: there’s not much else to keep you in this city, but it provides convenient rail links to the historic towns of Kleve and Xanten to the northwest, as well as to Düsseldorf and Cologne.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Duisburg (20/3/2), Düsseldorf (35/5/3), Essen (40/2/2), Mönchengladbach/Rheydt (22/3/2).





MÖNCHENGLADBACH




Theater Mönchengladbach is one half of the Theater Krefeld–Mönchengladbach operation (see above for Krefeld) and uses the ‘semi-stagione’ scheduling system. The two theatres share an orchestra, the Lower Rhine (Niederrhein) Symphony, meaning that although seasons run concurrently, individual performances broadly alternate in short batches between the two venues and it is possible to see a couple of different operas in the same theatre on consecutive nights. Although Mönchengladbach and Krefeld are only 25km or a 20-minute train journey apart, the theatres enjoy distinct audiences, as suggested by the fact that a new production given in one venue one season will usually be presented afresh in the other the following year. Repertoire, though limited in number of productions each season, is an eclectic mixture of popular classics with some rarer material – the company was the only one outside the Wagnerian heartland of Leipzig/Berlin to present Rienzi in the composer’s bicentenary year, for example.



Theatre: just to confuse matters, Theater Mönchengladbach is not in Mönchengladbach itself, but in the neighbouring town/suburb of Rheydt, six minutes south by train – the generously lobbied postwar building (90% of Rheydt was bombed in the war) sits in a little park just a few minutes’ walk from Rheydt Hbf. Its plain, square auditorium seats c.778 divided between Parkett and Balkon.



2015/16 repertoire: Un ballo in maschera, Der Rosenkavalier, Katya Kabanova



Reviews of performances in Mönchengladbach: Les contes d'Hoffmann



Tickets: €12-38, bookable online and printable.



Practicalities: if not using the area as a base, there’s little reason not to stay in Rheydt itself: Parkhotel Hayma (www.parkhotel-rheydt.de/) is reasonably priced and just across the road from the park and theatre. Restaurants and shopping streets are within walking distance. With one of Germany’s major football teams in the vicinity, hotels can get heavily booked out on home match nights. Otherwise, central Mönchengladbach can be reached by twice-hourly trains and additional local buses after performances.



Daytime: there’s little to see in Rheydt, so head to Mönchengladbach itself – this was only 60% destroyed by the RAF and a few older buildings survive, notably the Münster, or abbey church, on the top of the hill that forms the historic heart of the city (church closed Mondays) and a few fragments of the former city walls. There’s also one of the country’s leading contemporary art museums, the Abteiberg (www.museum-abteiberg.de/, also closed Mondays), all about 15 minutes’ walk uphill from Mönchengladbach Hbf. Aachen is an hour away and Düsseldorf 20 minutes.



Nearby: Krefeld, Düsseldorf, Aachen, though late-evening train connections are thin on the ground.





WUPPERTAL




Wuppertaler Bühnen has unfortunately recently lost its whole operatic ensemble (and closed its separate Schauspielhaus) in a drastic cost-cutting exercise, and a reduced roster of operas - only half a dozen in 2015/16 compared with eight or more in previous seasons - will now be cast with guest singers. Yet artistically, the company has been on a roll and always seems to throw up something worth travelling for each season, culminating in a Parsifal of international stature in March 2015. Performances are given at the Opernhaus in the Barmen district of the city, also the home of the world-renowned Pina Bausch Tanztheater Wuppertal contemporary dance company. The company operates almost to a ‘stagione’ system, with often only a small overlap between productions and meaning it’s usually only possible to see a single work in one short visit.



Theatre: an intimate, modern, semi-circular auditorium in a reconstructed Jugendstil shell from 1905, seating c.360 in the stalls, c.150 in the first tier and c.120 in the second tier. Good sight-lines from most seats, though rows 1-3 and 5 of the stalls are not raked.



2015/16 repertoire: Eugene Onegin, Lulu, Madama Butterfly, West Side Story, plus revivals of St John Passion, Tosca



Reviews of performances in Wuppertal: Krol Roger (Szymanowski), Parsifal



Tickets: €8-41, bookable online and printable.



Practicalities: Wuppertal, the one-time textiles hub of Germany, is a ribbon city strung out for some 13km along the leafy valley of the Wupper river, and a conglomeration of formerly separate towns. The opera house is adjacent to Barmen DB station and close to Adler Brücke station on the Schwebebahn, the ‘swinging railway’ that is suspended over the river and is the city’s main transport link. Most of the hotels and other infrastructure, though, are in Elberfeld, close to Wuppertal Hauptbahnhof and some ten minutes to the west by Schwebebahn (an easy connection). There’s a vast redevelopment of the Hauptbahnhof frontage underway until 2017, which is making getting between station and town a bit of a hassle, but it’s still manageable. Wuppertal is second only to Essen in convenience as a base to stay while visiting different theatres in the region. Especially if you are using Wuppertal as a base, it’s worth considering staying in one of the handful of hotels that provides a ‘free’ (ie included) Ruhr-wide travel pass (worth €27 a day and valid on all non-Intercity transport, including the Schwebebahn) for the duration of your stay, including the InterCity and Central hotels. Apart from the theatre café there’s nowhere to eat immediately close to the Opera House, and in Elberfeld, the Luisenviertel offers more restaurants than the central shopping area.



Daytime: Riding the Schwebebahn is an attraction in itself. Elberfeld is home to a leading art collection, the Von der Heydt Museum, and there are several concentrations of grand villas built by textile magnates in the late 19th century worth wandering past, particularly in the Briller and Zoo areas – pick up a walking guide from the Tourist Office at Schloßbeiche 40. Near the Opera House in Barmen is the birthplace of Friedrich Engels (now a museum) and behind it a further museum of early industry. For a more rural experience, take the S7 train to Solingen-Schaberg and explore the picturesque, wooded lower Wupper valley on foot, with a chance to marvel at the engineering wonder of the Müngsten Bridge, the highest steel railway bridge in Germany, and visit Schloß Burg, the one-time seat of the Dukes of Berg, now a regional museum covering the history of the Bergischer Land. Otherwise, Cologne is only 45 minutes away from Wuppertal by train and much of the rest of the region is equally accessible.



Nearby (average journey times by train / per-hour frequency pre-performance / per-hour frequency post-performance): Düsseldorf (25/4/2), Hagen (25/3/1), Essen (46/3/1), Dortmund (49/1/1), Cologne (45/3/2).



Disclaimer: this guide has been compiled in good faith using facts available at time of writing, but please double-check practical matters – repertoire, prices, train frequency etc – with the appropriate websites and organisations before making any travel or ticketing arrangements.


Monday, 2 November 2015

Parsifal in Wuppertal; Meistersinger in Mainz; Lohengrin in Pforzheim - Spring/Summer 2015

From the November 2015 issue of The Wagner Journal

Parsifal (Tilmann Unger, 2nd left) watches as
Amfortas (Thomas Gazheli) pays for his betrayal of the community

Parsifal – Oper Wuppertal – 15 March 2015

Parsifal – Tilmann Unger
Kundry – Kathrin Göring
Amfortas – Thomas Gazheli
Klingsor – Andreas Daum
Gurnemanz – Thorsten Grümbel
Titurel – Martin Blasius
First Grail Knight – Andreas Beinhauer
Second Grail Knight – Peter Paul
First Squire/A Voice from Above – Lucie Ceralová
Second Squire – Johannes Grau
Third Squire – Markus Murke
Fourth Squire – Mine Yücel
Flowermaidens – Sandra Borgarts, Lucie Ceralová, Carla Hussong, Ralitsa Ralinova, Silja Schindler, Mine Yücel
Chorus and Extra Chorus of Wuppertaler Bühnen
Wuppertal Symphony Orchestra (Sinfonieorchester Wuppertal)

Conductor – Toshiyuki Kamioka
Director – Thilo Reinhardt
Designer – Harald Thor
Costumes – Katharina Gault
Video – Sönke Feick


Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg – Staatstheater Mainz – 5 July 2015

Hans Sachs – Derrick Ballard
Walther von Stolzing – Alexander Spemann
Eva – Vida Mikneviciute
Veit Pogner – Hans-Otto Weiß
David – Martin Koch
Magdalena – Linda Sommerhage
Sixtus Beckmesser – Armin Kolarczyk
Kunz Vogelgesang – Max Friedrich Schäffer
Konrad Nachtigall – Johannes Held
Fritz Kothner/Nightwatchman – Peter Felix Bauer
Balthasar Zorn – Christopher Kaplan
Ulrich Eisslinger – Christoph Wittmann
Augustin Moser – Scott Ingham
Hermann Ortel – Manos Kia
Hans Schwartz – Georg Lickleder
Hans Foltz – Stephan Bootz

Chorus and Extra Chorus of Staatstheater Mainz
Philharmonisches Staatsorchester Mainz

Conductor – Hermann Bäumer
Director – Ronny Jakubaschk
Designer – Matthias Koch
Lighting – Alexander Dölling


Lohengrin – Theater Pforzheim – 10 July 2015

Lohengrin – Reto Rosin
Elsa – Tiina-Maija Koskela
Friedrich von Telramund – Hans Gröning
Ortrud – Anna Agathonos
King Henry – Matthias Degen
Herald – Aykan Aydi

Chorus and Extra Chorus of Theater Pforzheim
Badische Philharmonie Pforzheim

Conductor – Markus Huber
Director – Wolf Widder
Designer – Joanna Surowiec


Enthused by the experience of exploring Wagner performances in Germany away from the big, international houses in the anniversary season of 2013 (see review in TWJ, Nov. 2013), I ventured back earlier this year and, by coincidence, alighted upon two of the dramas that share the idea of an outsider transforming the status quo. It’s a theme that the directors of both Wuppertal Opera’s Parsifal and Staatstheater Mainz’s Die Meistersinger made central to their concepts, emphasising the role of both Parsifal and Walther as agents of change in deeply conservative, rule-obsessed societies.

Thilo Reinhardt’s Parsifal, supported by Harald Thor’s meticulous designs, relocates the grail order to an elite sporting academy where Gurnemanz is the track-suited gym master (a neat way of emphasising his lowly position in the eyes of the tail-coated academic masters/knights). That this is an institution that glories in blood-lust becomes clear when Parsifal enters: as part of some arcane hazing ritual, he has shot the school acrobat (the swan) with an archery bow and rather than attend to the wounded athlete, all the students and masters can do is laugh at his misfortune.

The Transformation Music takes us to a grand initiation function for the new pupils, who include Parsifal. The ‘uncovering of the grail’ – which here seems to be symbolised by a ceremonial cloak – entails a gruesome blood-letting ceremony in which Amfortas is strung up in Christ-like pose and the new recruits have to open up new wounds with their fencing swords before his blood is collected and passed around for consumption among the assembled men. Amfortas’s wounds, plural, it would seem, are inflicted by the community he has dishonoured as revenge for allowing the renegade master Klingsor to steal the spear under his watch.

Parsifal’s response to this violence, as appears to be the case at the start of Act II, is to have run amok among his former fellow pupils, who are seen mourned over by the school cheerleading team – the Flowermaidens. His crucial encounter with Kundry is presented as a vision. At the kiss, she takes up Amfortas’s crucifixion pose from Act I, which triggers Parsifal’s memory and response. And at the end of the act, as if in a dream, Parsifal deflects Klingsor’s spear by simply covering his eyes and ‘waking’ from the enclosed world of the vision.

The curtain opens in Act III on a vision of complete devastation. A grey-haired Parsifal arrives in UN peace-keeping uniform with a posse of war-wounded colleagues. When they demand the uncovering of the grail, Parsifal saves Amfortas from further torture and creates a funeral pyre for the school’s emblematic cloak, spear and old texts. A new order, free from the violence and victimisation of the academy’s former ethos, is welcomed in as the members of the chorus step forward and kneel to greet the closing music coming from the pit, as if to say art and beauty will now transcend evil and provide redemption.

Reinhardt’s approach, then, is more than a simple gloss – it has something deep to convey that is in line with if not exactly the same as Wagner’s conception, and it is in the friction between these two visions – and between action and sung text – that greater comprehension can be found. Perhaps its overriding achievement is in the way it conveys Parsifal’s own growth as a person, from a cocky, ignorant youth thrust into a bewildering community to a mature, worldly-wise man whose experience of and participation in the evils of that community transform him into its saviour, the redeemer who is himself redeemed. This characterisation was enhanced by the performance of Tilmann Unger in the title role. This young German tenor has the youth to be convincing as the ‘pure fool’ as well as the maturity as an actor to convey the old soldier and brings a baritonal depth and charismatic, lyrical warmth to every line he sings. His performance stood out, but not at the expense of his colleagues, from the strikingly intense Kundry of Kathrin Göring to Thorsten Grümbel’s determined Gurnemanz and Thomas Gazheli’s torture victim of an Amfortas, all vocally at one with their roles. Toshiyuki Kamioka’s conducting, in keeping with modern trends, kept Wagner’s musical tapestry moving yet found the space to delineate its many threads of line and colour.

-  -  -

Mainz's 'green' Meistersinger
The city of Mainz can lay a certain claim to ownership of Meistersinger: Wagner was staying in neighbouring Wiesbaden while visiting his publisher, Schott, when by his own account a vision of ‘golden’ Mainz’s skyline silhouetted across the Rhine inspired him to begin the Prelude. And in its own way, Mainz’s resident opera company returned the compliment by staging a fresh, witty production, performed with the consummate sense of a company at the peak of its collaborative power.

Set in a milieu somewhere between Brave New World and The Wizard of Oz’s Munchkinland, Ronny Jakubaschk’s vision for the work creates a regimented society where green is the only permitted colour, where the Lehrbuben form the floor-mopping drone class, where the Masters are indeed the masters and control every aspect of society and where a machine is the arbiter of artistic rectitude. Into this apparently benevolent dictatorship of the Mastersingers enters the daringly red-headed Walther, and his difference begins to have its effects on this stultifying order: Eva is the first to be enticed, and her bright green hair and clothing gradually take on more red as the evening progresses until by the end Walther’s colour has taken her over completely. The moiré-wheeled machine, doing Beckmesser’s job of marking the young knight’s first attempt at a master song, overheats from the novelty and audacity of his singing and begins to turn a shade of pink itself. Kothner’s doubling as the Nightwatchman, meanwhile, emphasises the hold the Masters have enjoyed over the populace, though his powerlessness to quell the riot suggests the people are already on the turn. Of the Masters themselves, only Sachs seems willing to accept and welcome Walther’s difference, though never going so far as to become coloured by it himself. At the end, he firmly asserts his ‘Habt acht!’ before realising that the cause is lost as, in the closing bars, the liberated Eva leads a peaceful revolution in which all – Masters and people – at last intermingle as one beneath a rosy glow.

It would all seem rather simplistic an interpretation were it not carried out with such élan. Matthias Koch’s sets and costumes are integral to that success – in their simplicity and stylisation they pay homage to the austerity of Wieland Wagner, yet Jakubaschk’s direction ensures that characters aren’t reduced to automatons beneath the monochrome visuals. One particular coup comes during Sachs’s Wahn Monologue, when the set revolves to reveal a frozen tableau from the previous night’s riot, complete with Beckmesser in full scream while being throttled by David and everyone held in uncomfortable-looking ‘mid-air’ poses until the scene has disappeared from view. Apart from the riot, stage clutter is minimal – barely more than a last for Sachs’s cobbler’s workshop and a podium for the song contest – very much putting the onus on the singers and the music. While Wuppertal has recently had to lay off its house ensemble to save it from bankruptcy, Mainz’s still evidently thrives: Derrick Ballard’s Sachs and Alexander Spemann’s Walther were just two who were cast from within the resident company. Armin Kolarczyk’s Beckmesser, ‘borrowed’ from the Karlsruhe ensemble, was a scheduled replacement for a house singer at this performance and Mainz’s indisposed David was covered with remarkable assurance at short notice by Martin Koch from Oper Köln. In all, it was evidence of a marvellous company achievement, without a weak link in the cast, though one might have wished for more vocal heft from Spemann in riding the orchestra and, if being pernickety, Ballard could have brought greater warmth to his more lyrical moments. Kolarczyk played the hurdygurdy-wielding Beckmesser vocally and dramatically ‘straight’, rather than for laughs (he and Walther shook and made up amid the concluding celebrations of Act III), and Vida Mikneviciute made Eva a more assertive character than usual, mirrored in the bright vibrancy of her singing. Mainz’s chorus and orchestra did the company proud, and conductor Hermann Bäumer held everything together with the skill of a master himself.

Two highly ‘interventionist’ approaches to staging Wagner, then, both of which succeed on their own terms, in their internal logic and in the insight they provide on the themes underlying the dramas. The composer’s detailed plotting may sometimes go out the window, but is it too far-fetched to suggest that he was more concerned with idea than story-telling specifics in any case? Better this approach than the kind of bland narrative that marked this summer’s Lohengrin at Theater Pforzheim, where Wolf Widder’s modern-dress production promised much (and was tremendously sung and played, with a slightly reduced orchestration) but lacked that crucial element of directorial interpretation that makes operatic theatre a living art form.

Friday, 30 October 2015

Lohengrin’s Lair


Swan Tower
My regular operatic visits to the Ruhr and Lower Rhine areas of Germany leave me plenty of time to kill between evening performances, and I am always on the lookout for new places to visit during the daytime. Recently I was in Düsseldorf for a couple of nights, so on a very murky mid-October day I took the Regio Express train for 90 minutes to the end of its line at Kleve, just short of the Dutch border. Better known in English as Cleves (it was spelt as Cleve in Germany until spelling reform in the 1930s), it is probably most familiar as the home town of King Henry VIII’s fourth wife, Anne – the one whom he divorced after a mere six months when her visage proved to be nowhere near as pulchritudinous as Holbein’s portrait of her. But the town itself sets much greater store by a more mythical former inhabitant, the swan knight Lohengrin.

In Wagner’s version of the story, Lohengrin reveals in his Narration in Act III that he has come all the way from Montsalvat, which is presumed to be Montserrat in the mountains outside Barcelona. Given that Kleve is a mere 5km from the Rhine it makes for a far more plausible swan journey to leave his castle, travel down the great river to the North Sea and take the Scheldt up-river to the Brabantine court in Antwerp. Obvious, really. (Quite coincidentally, I had been in Antwerp the day before, following the previous evening’s performance of another Wagner opera, Tannhäuser, though my journey to the Rhineland had been more conventionally land-based.)

Kleve’s Lohengrin connection stems from the castle at its heart, the Schwanenburg, or Swan Castle. The counts who settled and built their fortress on the cliff-top overlooking the Rhine floodplain in the 11th century (‘Cleve’ derives from the word for ‘cliff’) believed they were descended from the local version of the swan knight, Helias, stories of whom were circulating among the troubadours for more than a century before finding literary form in the Teutonic medieval epics that Wagner used as his sources. But the idea of a saviour knight turning up on a swan to rescue a damsel in distress is common to them all. And today the swan has become the symbol of Kleve, from its logo and town website tab ident to virtually every piece of public art in the place. Among these is one of the wittiest water features anywhere: the Schwanenbrunnen (Swan Fountain, see above) in the main square portrays Wagner as Lohengrin, with the swan trying to drag him away into the water by his coat-tails and a buxom opera singer (Elsa?) along with two urchins pleading with him from the shore.

Kleve pictured in 1945, after its air-raids
The line of the Counts and the Dukes of Cleve, who were ruling over much of the lower Rhineland by the time of Anna’s marriage to Henry VIII in 1540, eventually died out in the early 17th century and the dukedom was swallowed up by Brandenburg and, much later, by Prussia. Besieged by the Spanish in 1635 and occupied by the French during the Napoleonic wars, Kleve then enjoyed a century or more as a leading spa town, thanks to a mineral spring that had been discovered in the 18th century, and it became a favoured place for Rhineland/Ruhr industrialists to build their weekend villas. These are some of the only buildings in Kleve to have survived two heavy Allied air-raids, in October 1944 and February 1945, which destroyed 90 per cent of the town, including the castle.

Despite the fact that Kleve had to be completely rebuilt and with only its most notable buildings reconstructed as they had been before the war, it’s an atmospheric place, or at least it was on the misty day I explored it. The Swan Tower at the heart of the castle was one of the first structures to be reborn and now houses a moderately interesting little museum on local geology and history with, on a clear day, views over the whole of the lower Rhineland (open daily April to October, at weekends only over winter); the rest of the castle is now occupied by law courts and municipal offices. Also rebuilt, though it took the best part of 40 years, is the main, double-spired Collegiate Church, whose origins go back to the 10th century; its most recent additions are its striking series of post-Millennial stained-glass windows (pictured right), which give the interior a rare unified feeling (open for visits daily except lunchtimes and during services).

One of the grandest of the 19th-century villas is now the Museum Kurhaus Kleve, an art gallery whose collection spans some five centuries and has an important focus on the work of the leading modernist performance artist Joseph Beuys (1921–86), who spent much of his early life in and around Kleve. The work of another local artist, Dutch landscape painter Barend Cornelis Koekkoek (1803–62), is celebrated in the villa he built in the centre of the town, one of the few in that area to survive the air-raids, which briefly stood in as a postwar town hall and is now the BC Koekkoek Museum. Otherwise, the architecture in much of the town centre, especially its shopping streets, is blandly 1950s–70s, though the hillier area around the castle at least maintains its historic feel and the original street plan survives.

The area in which Kleve sits, hard by the Dutch border and bound by hills in the west and the Rhine to the east, is known as Cleverland. It’s a popular draw for Netherlanders from over the border, attracted by its lower property prices and cost of living, which I suppose is why the locals call themselves Cleverlanders.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Ruhe in the Ruhr

A former ironworks in Duisburg, now turned into a landscape park
If you thought that the Ruhr region of north-west Germany was nothing but belching chimneys, satanic mills and slag heaps, think again. It is true that vestiges of those images do still exist in places, especially among the chemical factories along the Lower Rhine, but the one-time heart of European heavy industry, mining and manufacture has its sweeter side as well. In recent times, the region has re-invented itself as a cultural hotspot (it was European Capital of Culture in 2010) and has gone to great lengths to exploit its industrial archaeology by turning one-time turbine halls, coking plants and mines into museums, landscape parks and performance venues.

The Untermarkt in Hattingen
But there’s another Ruhr, one that seemingly survives unscathed by modern industry. Admittedly, wartime bombing flattened all the big towns and cities, many of which had historic hearts, and the present-day Altstadts of these are often sad relics of former glories. Move away into the countryside, however – and there’s a surprising amount of open forest and farmland between the cities, as any local train journey reveals – and there are historic villages, townscapes and miles and miles of paths and trails for hiking or cycling.

Fachwerk in Hattingen
The 'clothes iron house' in Hattingen
Essen is the largest city in the Ruhr and was once dominated by the industry of the Krupp engineering empire (the family’s Valhalla-like mansion, Villa Hügel, is now a major tourist attraction in a park to the south of the city). But within easy reach are a handful of unspoilt smaller towns that seem to belie their presence in this part of Germany. Principal among them is the former Hanseatic town of Hattingen, a 20-minute S-Bahn ride south-east from Essen, and a place that with its 143 restored half-timbered buildings seems like a world away. The approach from the Hattingen-Mitte S-Bahn terminus is somewhat unprepossessing, over a ring road and through a modern shopping centre, but soon one is in a medieval square, the Untermarkt, dominated by its 16th-century Altes Rathaus (old town hall - see main image above). Behind it is the parish church of St George, with its jauntily bent spire, and surrounding that an enjoyable maze of little lanes full of half-timbered gems, such as the ‘Bügeleisenhaus’ (iron house, from its top-heavy profile looking like a clothes iron, see picture, right). Even here there’s a heritage of iron- and steel-making, and a modern town gate has been designed to pay tribute to its industrial past, while within walking distance just to the north of the historic town centre is the Heinrichshütte Ironworks, a major component of the Ruhr-wide Westphalian State Museum of Industrial Culture. But it’s the other-worldly Fachwerk, or half-timbered architecture, that makes Hattingen one of the most charming places to visit in the region, especially during the summer, when its many cafés and restaurants spill out into the streets and squares.

Street scene in Kettwig
Except around its mouth at Duisburg and nearby Mülheim, the river that gives the region its name meanders with tranquil insouciance between wooded hills. The worst of the industry left the Ruhr valley for the flatter area to the north in the 19th century and now it’s a pleasant area to explore, whether on excursion boats on its various dammed stretches, walking or cycling along its dedicated long-distance path or visiting its riverside towns. The most attractive of these is Kettwig, on the S-Bahn line between Essen and Düsseldorf (Kettwig and Kettwig-Stausee stations are equally about a 15-minute walk from the town centre). Rather than the traditional black-and-white half-timbering of Hattingen, the architecture here is dominated by green-slate cladding, which gives the place a subdued but austere feel. There’s an attractive square and sinuous main street and a gentle tumble of steps and lanes falling away to the river from below the church.

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Čekovská/Mahler - Prometeo - Tosca: September 2015

Links to my latest concert and opera reviews on Bachtrack.com.

The audience has to find its way through the fog to experience Prometeo

Čekovská and Mahler in Essen 

A new Slovakian work inspired by the life cycle of the mayfly coupled with Mahler's Symphony No.5

 

Nono's Prometeo in Duisburg 

The Italian modernist's expansive exploration of the Prometheus legend takes over a former turbine hall in the Ruhr

 

Tosca in Aachen

A new production takes an anti-clerical approach to Puccini's opera




Wednesday, 22 July 2015

Der ferne Klang – Nationaltheater Mannheim – 12 July 2015

Photos: Hans Jörg Michel

Grete – Astrid Weber
Fritz – Michael Baba
The old Graumann/The Baron – Sung Ha
Graumann’s wife – Petra Welteroth
Innkeeper/Rudolf – Sebastian Pilgrim
A ham actor/The count/Actor – Raymond Ayers
Dr Vigelius, a lawyer – Bartosz Urbanowicz
An old woman – Marie-Belle Sandis
Mizzi – Tamara Banjesević
Milli – Ludovica Bello
Mary – Estelle Kruger
A Spanish girl/A waitress – Evelyn Krahe
The chevalier/A dubious individual – Andreas Hermann
A girl – Juliane Herrmann
First chorus member – Daewoo Park
Second chorus member – Slawomir Czarnecki
Chorus members – Eun Young Kim, Babett Dörste-Ewald
A young man – Jürgen Theil
A policeman – Wolfgang Heuser

Chorus, Extra Chorus and Statisterie of the National Theatre Mannheim
Orchestra of the National Theatre Mannheim

Conductor – Dan Ettinger
Director – Tatjana Gürbaca
Sets – Marc Weeger
Costumes – Silke Willrett
Lighting – Christian Wurmbach
Video – Thilo David Heins
Dramaturge – Merle Fahrholz


Was Franz Schreker’s Der ferne Klang the first truly modern opera? Given the composer’s sad neglect over much of the 20th century, it’s easy to forget how influential the work and its composer were after the opera’s triumphant premiere in Frankfurt in 1912. Would Berg, who made the vocal score of Der ferne Klang for Schreker’s publisher, have gone on to write either Wozzeck or Lulu without its example? Both the sense that it is an opera of ideas as much as of incident and that its form and dramaturgy take the medium in new directions make it every bit as revolutionary within operatic tradition as Tristan und Isolde and Pelléas et Mélisande. Fortunately, the musical world is beginning to wake up to its worth, and this is the third production I’ve been fortunate to see in four years, following stagings in Nuremberg (2011) and Bonn (2012), and meanwhile it has also appeared at the Berlin Staatsoper, in Zurich, Strasbourg and at Bard in New York in recent years, and will receive a new production in Graz in the autumn.

Tatjana Gürbaca’s production for Mannheim’s National Theatre, which also returns in the autumn, emphasises the opera’s modernity by stressing its post-Freudian obsessions of dreams, longing and complexity of relationships, or as the conductor Dan Ettinger suggests in a programme interview, exploiting both musically and dramatically the photographer’s idea of gradations between clarity and blurring, between reality and imagination (he reminds us that Schreker was the son of a court photographer). The fraught love between Grete and the composer Fritz that underlies the plot’s search for compositional inspiration – the ‘distant sound’ for which Fritz yearns – is given a back story with video showing the two as teenagers, and the difference between dreams, memories and the present become clouded in the protagonists’ minds – and, indeed, ours, as we struggle to work out if what we are seeing is the product of Grete’s or Fritz’s subconscious. It may not have been an obvious introduction for those seeing the work for the first time, but Schreker doesn’t exactly make things easy himself, with his shifting between realities and dreams (the warts-and-all verismo of the opening scenes followed by the mystical scene in the wood), a seemingly chaotic second act that encompasses proto-cinematic cross-fades between scenes and musics, and a work as a whole that features an almost ungraspable array of minor characters. But Gürbaca’s direction of these cameos was strongly drawn, from the mysterious Old Woman to the sinister lawyer Dr Vigelius, and Marc Weeger’s cavernous set gave plenty of space and atmosphere to the interpretation’s blurring of physicality and imagination.

Fritz (Michael Baba) and Grete (Astrid Weber)
Mannheim’s National Theatre double-casts many of its productions to cover extended runs and, in this case, the autumn revival, and this was what it termed the B-Premiere, though there was no sense that this was the ‘B’ cast. In the main role of Grete was a singer who had appeared in the role when I saw it in Nuremberg in 2011, Astrid Weber. Her identification with the character was complete, even if one sensed a greater than usual degree of cue-watching of the conductor as she worked herself into this production. It was nevertheless a commanding assumption of a role that journeys so far in so short a time and her singing was firm and focused throughout. The Fritz of Michael Baba, Mannheim’s new house Heldentenor, was similarly committed and was conveyed with plenty of passion if not always suavity, though it’s not an easy role to make one’s own when he is absent from the stage for whole swathes of the work. Raymond Ayers’s Count was a treat, his ballad a highpoint of Act II as it should be, and one must make special mention of BBC Cardiff Singer of the World competitor Sebastian Pilgrim, whose resonant bass made its mark as the Innkeeper and Rudolf.

The real star of this performance, though, was the Mannheim National Theatre Orchestra under general music director Dan Ettinger. I’ve rarely heard Schreker’s score come to life with such sensitivity for both colour and dramatic energy, and Ettinger’s understanding of the composer’s unique style – evident in his programme conversations as much as in practice – made the whole, as it should be, an emotionally draining experience and brought Schreker’s own ‘distant sound’ that little bit nearer to repertoire status in our time.

Further performances: 28 July, 3, 28 October, 11, 20 November 2015

Tuesday, 14 July 2015

Peter Grimes – Theater Koblenz, 3 July 2015; Theater Ulm, 9 July 2015


Koblenz: Grimes (Ray M. Wade Jr)
and Aurea Marston (Ellen)


Ulm: Grimes (Hans-Günther Dotzauer)





KOBLENZ
ULM
Peter Grimes
Ray M. Wade Jr
Hans-Günther Dotzauer
Ellen Orford 
Aurea Marston
Oxana Arkaeva
Auntie 
Anne Catherine Wagner
Rita-Lucia Schneider
Niece 1 
Hana Lee
Edith Lorans
Niece 2 
Irina Marinaş
Katarzyna Jagiełło
Balstrode 
Mark Morouse
Tomasz Kałuzny
Mrs. Sedley 
Melanie Lang
I Chiao Shih/Judith Christ
Swallow 
Jongmin Lim
Don Lee
Ned Keene 
Randal Turner
J. Emanuel Pichler
Bob Boles 
Juraj Hollý
Thorsten Sigurdsson
Rev Horace Adams 
Junho Lee
Alexander Schröder
Hobson 
Kai Uwe Schöler
Joachim Pieczyk
Doctor Crabbe 
Eberhard Kurrels 
(not specified)
Boy 
Carlos Gerhardt 
(not specified)




Opernchor & Extrachor
Statisterie, Opernchor & Extrachor

Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie 

Das Philharmonische Orchester
der Stadt Ulm
Conductor
Enrico Delamboye
Daniel Montané
Director
Markus Dietze
Matthias Kaiser
Sets
Bodo Demelius
Marianne Hollenstein
Costumes
Su Sigmund
Angela C. Schuett
Video 
Georg Lendorff

Dramaturge 
Christiane Schiemann
Benjamin Kunzel

The mob musters in Koblenz...
Britten’s operas remain popular in Germany, and the composer’s centenary year in 2013 seems to have spurred a renewed interest. In the space of a week, I managed to catch two of the half-dozen different productions of Peter Grimes on offer in the country during the 2014–15 season. It offered an interested ‘compare and contrast’ exercise, but also gave that rare experience of hearing a work rooted in one’s own native language and culture – and over the years I must have seen more live performances of this opera than any other – transplanted into a ‘foreign’ milieu. Both companies, in Koblenz and in Ulm, to their credit performed the work in English (original-language performance is virtually the norm in Germany these days), but the success of that English proved surprisingly variable. With several Anglophone members in its cast, Koblenz fared markedly better than Ulm, which could have benefited from a language coach who could have at least ironed out inconsistencies of pronunciation of characters’ names and occasional drifts into American-English (these people inhabited a town called The Burrow; Grrrrrrimes sometimes gained an inauthentic rolled ‘r’; and according to Ellen Orford, ‘we shall be vizz him’). On the other hand, it’s probably something that native speakers of German, French or Italian have to put up with on a daily basis as their repertoire is subjected to multi-national casts.

The pronunciation divide was not the only element that set these productions apart: Koblenz offered the finer musical performance, but Ulm had arguably the more coherent staging. The one area where the Koblenzers left something to be desired was the placing of the orchestra right back behind the stage. Theater Koblenz is a tiny, rare 18th-century survivor, a compact, 460-seater horseshoe auditorium tacked on to a modern stage rebuild. As such, its pit is too small for a full symphony orchestra, so needs must. It was just a shame, therefore, that Bodo Demelius’s set – a modular platform-come-ceiling of girders and decking – had to take up the full depth of the stage, when so much more use could have been made of the covered-over pit as a performing area and allowed the players to sit closer to the audience. As such, the alert playing of the Rhenish Philharmonic State Orchestra was a little too distant and muted, and in Act III it gave the perverse experience of hearing an off-stage main orchestra coupled with onstage dance musicians whose music should really drift in and out of focus from behind the scenes. Enrico Delamboye’s conducting was generally apposite, though the way he and the director spun out the Prologue for laughs lost a lot of its essential swift tautness of character-introduction. The Koblenz chorus was simply magnificent, both in its superbly clear diction and its power – the gathering of the plank-wielding mob at the very front of the stage, just yards from my second-row seat, was perhaps the most terrifying this Act III scene has ever been in my experience.

As Grimes, the Texan tenor Ray M. Wade Jr – much admired as the Emperor in last season’s Die Frau ohne Schatten in Kassel – gave a profound interpretation that revealed the character’s vulnerability, with lyrical, warm-hearted singing and a real feeling for the words (no American drawl here!). Aurea Marston’s Ellen Orford marked this Swiss-born former mezzo’s debut as a soprano and offered firm tone and a sense of line, though her patchy English diction sent me scrabbling for the German surtitles to remind me of the text I thought I knew so well. Mark Morouse’s Balstrode was warmly sympathetic in voice and interpretation and US-born, Guildhall-trained mezzo Melanie Lang was a fruity, cut-glass-English Mrs Sedley. I also enjoyed Junho Lee’s youthfully lyrical Rector and Anne Catherine Wagner’s resonantly sung Auntie, once she had got over her initial squalliness.

I was less taken with Markus Dietze’s production, however. It was unclear what he was trying to tell us – that the impoverishment of this community was what led it to scapegoat one of its number? This was at least a clue given by Georg Lendorff’s often enigmatic video images that during the interludes were projected on to the gauze hiding the orchestra, the one during the Passacaglia showing miserable workers locked out of shipyard – otherwise they were largely a bizarre succession of ‘seaside’ images. The scene in The Boar was an impromptu gathering, with Auntie serving bottles of beer from an old shopping trolley; and I wasn’t sure what to make of the final scene of the whole cast lining up their wellington boots in tribute to the dead apprentice. Characterisation was often over-egged, from Mrs Sedley’s neurotic tic and Auntie’s persistent cigar-smoking to Swallow’s rapacious flirtations, though Wade’s Grimes saved the day with a touching portrayal of a man with naive hopes and dreams and who doesn’t realise his own strength in his treatment of the apprentice.

... and in Ulm

Thus was Grimes on the Rhine. Over at Theater Ulm on the Danube, meanwhile, director Matthias Kaiser conjured up a more focused, Expressionist presentation of the drama, with the chorus as a uniform mass in matching oilskins and with half-white-half-brown faces. Marianne Hollenstein’s set was of a rotting hulk of a ship in a breaker’s yard and much use was made of stage lifts to suggest a highly unstable ground for the people’s existence. But although the effect was often visually striking, there seemed to be too little understanding of the verismatic exactitude of many of the stage directions: how can Mrs Sedley ‘have the evidence’ if she’s not there to witness Ellen discovering the boy’s bruise? Why does Balstrode enter Grimes’s hut through the cliff door from which the boy has just fallen (a theoretically effective staging muffed by an unwilling rope)? And, by the by, what were those gently meandering fish projected on to the front cloth during each of the interludes supposed to represent? Perplexing compared to the large, dramatically colourful canvasses Hollenstein had painted to represent each of the six interludes that stood on display in the foyer.

Hans-Günther Dotzauer gave a very different Grimes compared with Wade in Koblenz. Possessor of a more authentically Pears-like timbre than the American, this German tenor’s gruff, bullish characterisation didn’t grow enough through the drama, though, as if he were hemmed in by his costume of woolly hat and leather jacket and his fate were sealed from the start. Ukrainian soprano Oxana Arkaeva, making her farewell performance in the Ulm ensemble, was somewhat miscast, her Slavic swoopiness and tendency to yell at phrases a long way from the usual demure English schoolmistress, though her lyrical moments had admirable tenderness. Nor was her engagement with her character convincing in her reaction to events around her, smiling in all the wrong places. Tomasz Kałuzny was a pallid Balstrode, who didn’t really command his scenes as a former captain should. I Chiao Shih’s Mrs Sedley was vocally indisposed and the singer mimed (ie overacted) her part while Judith Christ (who coincidentally had been singing the role earlier in Koblenz’s run) sang resonantly from the side of the stage.

The Ulm chorus, indistinct in diction and wayward in English, was no patch on Koblenz. Nor did the Ulm Philharmonic display enough ease with the idiom: Daniel Montané’s conducting was inflexible and the dry acoustic of the theatre gave a perfunctory air to the broad emotional sweep of the music.