Richard Wagner, Das Rheingold (1869)

Does anybody need to hear the plot of Das Rheingold reiterated? I feel like I knew the exact plot going in, but I suppose that's just because as a child I was avidly interested in the Norse mythology on which this was based, and also--not to brag or anything--I've read the duck comic based on the Ring Cycle. So anyway: the Rheinmaidens are frolicking in the water, not guarding the rheingold as well as they probably should be; the dwarf Alberich tries to woo them, but they laugh him off; in frustration, he steals the gold because he can forge it into a ring that will make him rich, even though it requires the forger to renounce love. Elsewhere, Wotan has commissioned two giants, Fasolt and Fafnir, to build Valhalla for him, with his sister-in-law Freia as payment. He reneges on the deal and asks them to request something else. Loge shows up, having been supposed to be working on an alternative payment, but he's come up blank. He does, however, bring news of Alberich's doings, and the giants decided to accept his treasure in lieu of Freia, taking her hostage in the meantime. The gods are weakened because they need more of Freia's golden apples, but Wotan summons the wherewithal to accompany Loge down to Nibelheim, where Alberich is ruling with an iron fist, having forced his brother Mime to forge a magical helmet allowing him to change shape. Loge tricks him into allowing himself to be captured, and they take him back to the surface, demanding all his treasure including helmet and ring as ransom. Before Alberich leaves, he curses the ring, saying that no one who wears it will be safe and eventually will be killed. I'm sure he's just all talk! The giants return with Freia; the gods give them the treasure, reluctantly including the helmet and, after a good talking-to from the all-knowing earth mother Erda, the ring. The giants fight over the distribution of the treasure, and Fafnir kills Fasolt, though he does not at this time turn into a dragon; he just sort of disappears with the treasure. Loge is filled with premonitions of doom, but the other gods go off to Valhalla, and we can assume that everything is going to be PRETTY great for them from now on! The rheinmaidens are sad, but eh, whatareyagonnado?

You can easily find all that information elsewhere on the internet. Why did I write it out like that? Difficult to say. So which version of this did I see? Well, there are Bayreuth productions on youtube, but, shallowly, I wanted better video quality, mainly, and besides, if I'm paying cash-money for this Met on Demand service, I ought to USE it. There are two choices: Otto Schenk's Ring productions from 1989-90, and Robert Lepage's from 2010-12. The latter are somewhat controversial, but I dunno, I sort of can't help but be seduced by the latest and greatest technology. Still, I really couldn't decide, to the upshot is, I watched them both. If nothing else, I knew the comparison would be interesting.

I feel like you have to make some pretty big decisions when staging these operas, the biggest being: to what extent are you going to attempt to reproduce the mythological milieu as described, and to what extent are you going to just include a few signifiers of said milieu and let the audience assume a lot of it (of course, you could also do something wildly untraditional, but that is another story altogether)? Let us take it as a given that Wagner's music is magnificent, and just focus on the question of these productions and singers. Before I start, however, I should note one difference between the two that isn't really related to the productions themselves but that might well be dispositive for a lot of people: the sound recording of the later production is a lot louder. For the Schenk version, I had my volume cranked as high as it would go for the whole thing, and wished it would go higher. Not the case for Lepage. It's not that the Schenk production suffers a lot from this, but it's definitely a thing.

Schenk's production is very traditional. The sets tend to look a little amateurish, a little school-play-ish (a tendency that reaches its apotheosis with the brief view of Alberich in serpent form), but you know, it's basically okay. It gets the setting across perfectly well. Possibly a bigger issue is the way some of the characters are made up: the gods look like normal people, but the dwarfs, the giants, and Loge are saddled with overbearing and distracting make up and latex. They look like some of the dodgier creations from an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. This actually sorta-kinda works for Loge, serving to emphasize that he's different from the other gods. But the others...well, it's a tribute to their performances that their goofy appearances basically fade into the background, but it's certainly not the direction I would've gone in.

The Lepage production is a different beast entirely. The main thing about this production--certainly the most famous--is that the stage is dominated by a giant contraption that consists of a series of huge, independently-rotating slats onto which can be projected moving images, allowing--in theory--for some interesting visuals. This sort of works, sometimes. The rainbow bridge to Valhalla at the end is striking, as is Wotan's and Loge's passage into Nibelheim. But a lot of the time it just...doesn't. In the opening scene, for instance, The slats rotate so it looks like the Rheinmaidens go from frolicking in the water to resting on the surface and back again, which is cool in theory, but in practice, it's just so very obvious that when they're allegedly frolicking, they're really dangling from wires (the production does nothing to even try to hide the various wires) and have no control over their own movement, that it's a bit...dubious. And OH MY GOODNESS, I lost track, but there are seriously, no exaggeration, something like a half dozen times when Loge is required to move, half walking half being pulled, up the diagonal slope, which he has to do backwards, due to another wire. Certainly Richard Croft does this as well as anyone could, but it's pretty obvious that no one could do it well. When your complicated set inevitably involves forcing your actors to make themselves look pointlessly weird...you should maybe rethink the whole thing. Also--this seems like a choice that isn't really related to the set itself, but I can't not mention it--there's an unexpected, hilarious moment when Freia first appears by sliding face-first down the slope. Surely that must have been a mistake, you think. There's NO WAY that was intentional. But then, a little later, Donner and Froh make similar entrances. Double-you tee eff?

But on the bright side, there are none of the goofy costumes of the earlier production. And serpent-Alberich looks much cooler. Though Toad Alberich is just a toy toad that someone tosses on stage, which gets a laugh (intentionally? hard to say) from the audience.

Singing-wise, I think these productions are fairly comparable, for the most part. Or, at any rate, my lack of experience does not allow me to make fine comparisons. There are a few places where one of the other is preferable, however. James Morris in the older production is a better Wotan than Bryn Terfel in the new, who just comes across as kind of nondescript. Or so I thought. But the place where the Schenk REALLY comes out ahead is with the implausibly-named Siegfried Jerusalem as Loge. He radiates intelligence and experience in a way that Richard Croft--playing the character as a kind of callow youth--just doesn't. The Lepage version also has a few secret weapons in its arsenal; namely, Eric Owens as a fearsome Alberich and Stephanie Blythe as a powerful Fricka. In the end, the comparison may be a bit of a wash.

Honestly, I don't think either of these productions is bad. I mean, okay, the Lepage production actually is bad in some ways, but never in such a way as to suppress Wagner's genius. If I had to choose, the only thing to make me hesitate in recommending the older one would be the sound issue, but in either case, I think you'll do okay.