The Atlanta Opera | Wagner: Götterdämmerung

As both seasoned patrons and the uninitiated crossed the doorway of the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre last Saturday for the Atlanta Opera’s opening night performance of Richard Wagner’s final installment in his monumental Der Ring des Nibelungen, Götterdämmerung, they were welcomed by a set of marching orders posted in the lobby. And they were crystal clear. Curtain goes up at 6:00 pm for the prologue and first act, which (performed without pause) lasts a staggering two hours. A 50-minute intermission follows (appropriately referred by some members of staff as “the dinner intermission”) designed to allow patrons to reset their resources, either by way of a glitzy inhouse dinner reservation or out in the Cumberland Mall adjacent wilderness (the savvier proletariat could be spotted hosting makeshift picnics throughout the venue’s parking deck). The remaining demands on the surviving audience are, at least on paper, decidedly less severe after this giant hurdle is conquered. The second act clocks in at around one hour and is coupled with a 20-minute tinkle break, giving the audience one final opportunity to freshen up and emotionally prepare for Wagner’s 14.5-hour musical fantasy to come to a close in the third and final act. It is a double dare physical challenge for both sides of the stage, worthy rite of passage for a company which promises to be, as Tomer Zvulun mentioned during his introduction prior to the start of the performance, “transformed by the mounting of its first ring”. By midnight, as the shell-shocked crowd made its way out the door, I collapsed into a car littered with empty cans of Red Bull and a half-eaten burrito bowl. I could not help but get emotional as I texted folks who had been nagging me for updates during each intermission: “Atlanta’s Ring is now complete and has exceeded all expectations!”

It is an achievement which credits, first and foremost, the brave and tenacious spirit of Carl W. Knobloch, Jr. General and Artistic Director Tomer Zvulun, who had the temerity to follow in the footsteps of his mentor, former Seattle Opera General Director Speight Jenkins, and bring the Ring Cycle to Atlanta (lockdown delays notwithstanding) a decade into his tenure. Attendees of this run of performances of Götterdämmerung were further greeted by two bombshells developments. The first, an announcement that Wagner’s Des Ring des Nibelungen will return to Atlanta in June of 2029, this time in festival format, where each opera of the ring performed in sequence in two-week cycles as the composer envisioned. This practice secured Seattle Opera’s position as Wagner’s second home in America outside of New York back in 1975. The second, the dedication of Atlanta’s Ring Cycle to the memory of Mr. Jenkins himself, who’s death coincided with the opening night performance last Saturday, further adding to the undeniable sense that the Wagnerian torch in America has been passed.

The unveiling of Götterdämmerung allows for an assessment of the production values of not just this final installment, but the entirety of Atlanta Opera’s Ring Cycle. In realizing his vision, Mr. Zvulun avoids heavy reliance on grandiose conceptualization and instead explores the Atlanta Opera’s mission “to break the boundaries of opera” by embracing adjacent elements such as such as film and multimedia to enhance the opera-going experience. In Götterdämmerung, he succeeds in varying degrees. Some gambles misfired. The staging of the tarnhelm scene at the end of Act I, for instance, featured Mr. Bu’s Gunther onstage, awkwardly miming the singing of Mr. Vinke, sequestered in the pit and singing into a mic, his voice enhanced with a mystical iridescence by sound designer Dan Bauman as it deployed into the auditorium through the PA system. The execution of this innovation, and the grotesque comic undertones which worked so well when Siegfried confronted Fafner in last year’s Siegfried, failed to deliver the emotional impact of this crucial scene this time around. Other interpretive flourishes, such as the silver skull carried by Hagen during the Act I and the opening scene of Act II, were never fully resolved, with several audience members pitching the idea that it symbolized a totenkopf. Leaked rumor has it that it is the skull of the dead Alberich, whose appearance in Act II is either a memory or a ghostly apparition. More damaging, Hagen reaching for the dead Siegfried’s hand to take the ring, with the great hero’s hand rising threateningly (reinforced by an orchestral cue which sets up Brunhilde’s final entrance, and dominance, of the opera’s shattering denouement) was puzzlingly omitted. 

The bulk of the visual elements were achieved primarily through the work of designer Erhard Rom, whose physical sets and video projections often intermingled to both propel the action forward and reinforce the emotions at hand. Within the context of the opera’s four and a half hour run time, he opened himself up to charges of inserting himself into the proceedings with a heavy hand (no bit of orchestral music was allowed to exist without an accompanying film sequence). While there’s a valid concern to be explored here, I ultimately made peace with Mr. Rom’s relentless participation, as it served to gently prompt the mind, heart and ear into the leitmotif harvest that invites a deeper glimpse into Wagner’s musico-dramatico design, and further reveals Götterdämmerung for the hauntingly memorable experience it can be. If anything, the unexpected basso continuo produced by the massive sets changes was arguably more intrusive and difficult to ignore. 

As has been the case in previous Atlanta Opera productions, Mr. Zvulun and Mr. Rom have a friend in designer Mattie Ullrich, her costumes milking every possibility to explore flattering silhouettes evocative of the opera’s emotional kaleidoscope beyond period and cultural constraints. Besides the dramatic spectacle of Gutrune’s long-sleeve gown (no one can blame Ms. D’Eramo if it suddenly disappears from the wardrobe department), the members of the chorus, who run the gamut of shapes and garment sizes, have never looked better. 

Though some may take issue with some of his choices, there is no denying that as a collective, Mr. Zvulun’s production of Der Ring des Nibelungen will be remembered as the Atlanta Opera’s greatest artistic achievement of the past 30 years. Purists may do well to adopt more pragmatic attitudes and enjoy the benefits of his leadership, which as of now outweigh the reservations. 

I certainly have.

Back to the battlefield, conductor Roberto Kalb further contributed to the evening’s net positive from the pit, wisely favoring a broad promotion of the glories of the score, and safely landing the marathon enterprise despite some frequent turbulence instigated by his brass section. His phrasing often seemed guided by symphonic principles rather than the rise and fall of the vocal line. Juxtaposed against former Atlanta Opera Music Director Arthur Fagen, who introduced the first half of the cycle, Mr. Kalb’s interpretation is pragmatic and even keeled, prone to stick to the rivers and lakes that he’s used to. He was further supported by the exacting standards demanded by Chorus Master Walter Huff, who returns to his old stomping grounds for this run of Götterdämmerung after a near decade absence. 

In casting Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen, the Atlanta Opera has remained, with few exceptions, remarkably consistent. Seasoned Wagnerian Lise Lindstrom, having already offered an ear-spinning amuse bouche in last season’s Siegfried, returns to the pivotal part of Brunhilde. In bearing, she is every inch the fallen Nordic warrior goddess. As an actress, she is nuanced and palpably feels the overwhelming passions of the role, a fact that surely adds an additional layer of frustration as her instrument refuses to fully match the merits of her stage deportment. Her instrument retains many of the qualities which distinguished her participation in the previous installment, yet Götterdämmerung requires greater complexity of expression further testing the singer’s instrument, which now had ample opportunity to overstay its welcome. Out of sheer stubborn optimism, I delayed the publishing of this review and returned to the theater again and again in hopes that Ms. Lindstrom would rise to the occasion. By the third performance, it was time to submit.

At the outset, her voice suffers from the expected wear and tear from a decade long steady diet of Elektras, Turandots, Brunhildes, Salomes, and Dyer’s Wives (she has recently added Isolde to this lineup of wilting flowers), and while it remains an instrument of impressive heroic profile, glaring telltale signs of lasting decay are already in evidence. As heard on opening night, her timbre was often dry and leathery, and her scale is not even. Most troubling was the condition of her lower register- anything deployed below an A was essentially inaccessible beyond the footlights. For the audience, this is a problem because Brunhilde is a chatty gal, and she has a lot of important things to say in the lower tessitura. For the artist, such foundational concerns may lead to collapse, and an intrusive unsteadiness permeated her singing from the outset which she was unable to shake off. Gradually, it unsettled the transition between the middle register up to the penetrative top notes in her scale, which are her calling card. The sound up here is spine chilling, glassy, often sour and squally. She favored a blunt, declamatory style, and pages demanding elegant dexterity called out an unyielding stiffness. Her attempts to trill were awkward. Vocal caveats aside, she has cleverly averted disaster time and time again by knitting her shortcomings into a credible interpretation of the former goddess stripped of her divinity, now struggling to contain the human passions raging within. And her instrument, warts and all, copes when crying out in incandescent outrage at Brunhilde’s situation. But at what price?

Like his leading lady, tenor Stefan Vinke shared some of the vocal idiosyncrasies often accepted as the byproduct of living the heldentenor life. However, he has maintained a decided position of vocal advantage during all three performances of Götterdämmerung so far, though he takes his time to establish it. What sets him apart is his inexhaustible stamina, coupled with a technique that will keep his singing on the side of valid for inordinate lengths of time, and thus beating the ear into acquiescence. These came to his aid in last season’s Siegfried, and here once again in Götterdämmerung, crowning him triumphant by curtain’s fall despite his many faults. The timbre of his mighty instrument is unappealing at baseline, featuring dry undertones which, when coupled with an overcovered production, can sound strangulated whenever not blasting past the walls of the venue. Remarkably, Mr. Vinke progressively resolved many of his shortcomings as the evening progressed. Once past the opening duet with Brunhilde in the prologue, his introduction to the Gibichung household and botched wedding celebration found him mitigating some of the wild unsteadiness marring his declamation to more tolerable levels. He shockingly reached peak control over his instrument following his encounter with the Rheinmaidens in Act III. Here, he greeted Gunther’s party with a stentorian high C, brandished with extraordinary heft and sonority (Tuesday night’s attack was by far his cleanest and most impressive so far). The moment of epiphany, at the very end of his adventure was graced by his most open and shimmery send off. Furthermore, he did not miss the chance to win over the audience with his personality, leaning heavily into the endearing qualities that make Siegfried an alpha goober. He’s a bit of a ham onstage and is at home projecting both an endearing and menacing quality seemingly at will. The petty ways with which he woes Gutrune and flaunts the ring to spite Brunhilde juxtaposed with the disarming qualities of his Siegfried in his natural forest state, serving as perfect set up to contrast against the shocking attack and sudden demise of the world’s greatest hero. 

This production of Götterdämmerung features a crop of fine singers making important debuts with the company. In the thankless part of Gunther, bass baritone Le Bu made a tremendous impression on the audience, attracting attention primarily by grace of a cavernous, dark hued instrument, capable of retaining its youthful and vibrant timbre even when deployed past the orchestra with hall-filling sonority at the fortissimo. Despite its profile, the texture of his voice is gossamer and youthful in tone, illustrating both Gunther’s high position and lack of agency. Dramatically, though he cut a striking figure onstage, his interpretation, complicated by the fascist context through which Mr. Zvulun envisioned the Gibichungs, would not extend past perfunctory. His mime during the tarnhelm stunt which closes act I was awkward and a hard sell. A more balanced success was enjoyed by the Hagen of bass David Leigh, and for decidedly different reasons. The dimension of his instrument is a direct function of the connection to its core, allowing Mr. Leigh to emote with ease and remain present throughout his range. This is not an instrument made large by technical means, but rather a large voice revealed as such to the audience by the singer’s methods. This empowered Mr. Leigh the freedom to express subtleties in Hagen beyond the menace: To embody the rot, the decay of the institution.  Joining this brotherhood of lower voices was bass Aleksey Bogdanov, heard in Atlanta as a suave Escamillo to Maria Jose Montiel’s Carmen fourteen years ago, as the ghost (or perhaps memory?) of Alberich. While not eclipsing the great Zachary Nelson’s Das Rheingold’s and Siegfried’s Alberich, Mr. Bogdanov held his ground during his brief but haunting cameo by way of a penetrating and introspective baritone, favoring a paternal, rather than menacing edge.   

Another debuting artist was Sylvia D’Eramo, whose Gutrune was distinguished by a coquettish, girlish disposition and an edgy soprano of lyric proportions. Mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford, also making her Atlanta Opera debut as both first Norn and Waltraute, set herself apart from the rest of the cast with her vibrant, rollicking vibrato. Though this proclivity tended to muffle her diction once given full reign, it nevertheless empowered Ms. Mumford with interpretive access to every note in her scale, serving her well as Waltraute, Valhalla’s last hope, through the paces of her complex narrative and desperate plea to Brunhilde. To further credit her versatility, her technique empowered her synergize and match the Junoesque grandeur of Olivia Vote and Caitlin Lynch, featured here as her fellow Norns.

As we say goodbye to Atlanta’s historic Ring Cycle, allow me one final sendoff to the lovely ladies of the Rhine, Cadie J. Bryan’s Woglinde, Alexandra Razskazoff’s Wellgunde and Gretchen Krupp’s Flosshilde, those mischievous sprites who set this adventure in motion three years ago for much has happened between their introduction in Das Rheingold and now, the end of the world. Ms. Razskazoff’s Wellgunde is making the rounds, and she has become a frequent guest at the Teatro Municipal de Santiago in important parts. Besides Woglinde, Soprano Cadie J. Bryan’s sweet, alluring leggiero has already charmed Atlanta as Jeanette in the company’s rare staging of Bologne’s L’Amant Anonyme, a refreshingly youthful Berta in Rossini’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia, and Musetta in the company’s modern staging of Puccini’s La Boheme at Pullman Yards. Earlier this season she proved herself to be a clutch player by stepping in as Susanna in the company’s second performance of Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro after Sydney Mancasola’s unfortunate stage accident earlier this year. And then there’s Gretchen Krupp, the possessor of one of the most spectacular mezzo-soprano instruments to have been fostered by the Atlanta Opera’s Studio Artist program in recent memory, bold claims already tested during Die Walküre, where Ms. Krupp’s Fricka competitively held her ground against the likes of Greer Grimsley and Christine Goerke. The three merged seamless into a powerhouse unit, their combined efforts captured the whimsy, allure and imminent threat posed by the river’s currents. Atlanta could not have hoped for a worthier trio as the keepers of the gold. 

The Atlanta Opera will close its historic Ring Cycle with one last performance of Wagner’s Götterdämmerung this Sunday. For more information, please visit the company’s website at www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez