Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

cuirass.
The audience watched breathlessly. What did the Iron Woman wear underneath her
armor? Well, of course, a simple, flowing blue and white dress gathered by a golden belt and
across her voluminous breasts the two lions of the Hofbräuhaus with knotted tails.
The black King removed her helmet and a coy maiden emerged, flushed purple from the
heat, her blond hair parted in the center into thick long braids.
The orchestra played another piece from Wagner’s Nibelungen. Brunhilde disarmed and
charmed by the black snake-man unfastened her golden belt and handed it to Orpheus.
The audience roared.
Led by King Orpheus and his Teutonic Bride the entire stage—Brazilians, Italians,
Germans, and extras—descended into the audience.
The orchestra played a slow South American dance. Patiently Orpheus taught Bavaria
the new steps, while on the darkened stage Bavaria’s armor and the barga were pushed into
the wings. Suddenly the Brazilian court caught themselves partners from the audience. A
chaotic, free for all erupted, great merriment, everyone tried the new dance steps.
In the general confusion Konrad was picked up by a masked, dark-haired Italian beauty.
The taciturn lady smiled enigmatically. A strange feeling made him shiver. The memory of New
Year’s Eve with Alexandra at the Artist’s Club appeared from the past. The taciturn, unknownwoman
danced wonderfully. Before he could speak to her, she disappeared in the crowd, and
he found himself in the arms of another dancer. Confused Konrad stepped on his new partner’s
toes.
The Herald announced the second part of the evening’s presentation:
Resurrection, Redemption, and Apotheosis.
A search light focused on a tombstone lying at center stage. Clouds of swirling fog.
Everyone craned their necks.
Resurrection: slowly the tombstone lifted and a man in a Jacobean cap, long hair, and a
green, velveteen great-cloak emerged from the grave. Now everyone could see the
tombstone’s inscription clearly:
RICHARD WAGNER
1813–1883
Fog enshrouded, accompanied by the strains of the orchestra, Wagner raised his arms
and began to sing with an unexpectedly beautiful bass voice.
"Mein Gott!" Konrad exclaimed, "Parsifal, Act Three, Gurnemanz in the Good Friday
Scene!"
As the fog abated, the stage became bathed in warm light and from the rafters a
fountain descended, Kundry sitting on its rim.
Incongruously Kundry wore a Bavarian dirndl.
Kundry and Wagner joined in a duet.
Konrad could now see Kundry clearly. She was not the usual witch-mother-temptress of
the opera, but a beautiful, young, Raphaelite Madonna, with large, slightly protruding Italian
eyes and chestnut-brown hair above a long neck. A resonant contralto voice added to her
mystery.
But why her dirndl costume? And where was Parsifal?
A gasp went through the spectators. Above their heads a man suspended from a rope in
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