Die Walkure

It's not a movie, but Imna review it anyway.

Last night I saw the Washington National Opera's current production of Die Walkure, with 66 year old Placido Domingo singing the role of Siegmund. Unfortunately for me, he had a cold and was singing well but not at full volume and in full force. Whatever, now I can check "see one of the world's best tenors in one of history's greatest operas" off my list of things to do. The much in vogue Anja Kampe failed to impress me as Siegelinde, perhaps because her awkward body language and less polished stage presence must necessarily be compared to Domingo's performance, as the two characters play off each other constantly. Her singing was superb, but it was Domingo and the otherwise negligible Gidon Saks, as Hunding, who carried the burden of establishing her role as the downtrodden wife, barefoot and in the kitchen. No, seriously, they totally had Siegelinde barefoot and in the kitchen. I wonder if this is what director Francesca Zambello meant when she said she was making "an American Ring."

Linda Watson as Brunhilde and Elena Zaremba as Fricka were both outstanding, and haven't gotten the good press that they deserve. Bottom line, these folks can sing and most of them can act.

But now for the confusing part. Zambella made some head-scratch worthy decisions, and there was a lack of unity in the direction of the opera as a whole, not in terms of narrative and drama but in terms of sub-texts and allegorical interpretations. I was first caused to scratch my head when Hunding appeared, in boots, suspenders and a brown shirt. Huh, I thought to myself. Nazis. OK, we can bring Nazi's into this, I guess. Although why Hunding? Isn't that sort of an odd, re-appropriation and reinterpretation of post-Wagner conceptions of this work's significance, specifically in terms of political revolution and German nationalism? And if so, isn't it a bit of an over simplification? We get it, Hunding is evil. The Nazi's were evil. Is anything interesting being communicated? Or was it non-intentional? How could you unintentionally dress a character in Der Ring like a skinhead?

THEN: the ride of the Valkyries. The third act began with imagery that appeared to be lifted straight out of Apocalypse Now, a screen was lowered and images of helicopters and fighter planes were projected as the Valkyries entered the stage by parachute. Which seems to me to be a pretty strange way to go with that. THEN I noticed that the Valkyries were also dressed as skinheads. No suspenders this time, but that's sure what it looked like to me. So either it was a huge oversight on the part of the costume designer, or perhaps everyone who would get in the way of Siegmunde's victory over Hunding is a Nazi. Except Wotan, who was an evil capitalist, for some reason. So you can understand my confusion. I'm pretty unclear on what the director intended to communicate through these particular decisions, making it pretty clear to me that the direction lacked focus and theoretical continuity. And originality. I feel like the helicopter/parachuting ride of the Valkyries was in fact just lifted from Apocalypse Now, and I'm uncomfortable with the kind of reverse pop-culture reference being made. Also, the Wotan as evil capitalist angle was lifted straight from the '76 Bayreuth production, but isn't put into context at all. It is almost as if the director felt that precedent was enough context, and that this kind of superficiality is acceptable.

To top it off, all of these decisions inject war into the piece, and by her own admission Zambella was intending to make "an American Ring," and god knows that revolution and upheaval, the institution of a new regime, are the most overwhelming themes in the cycle. So where was our war? This was an amazing opportunity to do something really interesting with this piece, and they did nothing.

Don't get me wrong, it was spectacular, and as a music drama everything carried and resonated. But the art direction, set and costume design, not to mention certain thematic decisions, lay a strange and opaque film of confused allegory over an otherwise solid production of a wonderful piece.