13895 Wagner News 174 - Wagner Society of England

The contrast with the Vienna State Opera could not have been more extreme.
There the seat prices overtopped those of Covent Garden, and to get in it at all it had been
necessary to book almost a year in advance. It goes without saying that the house was sold
out, and the Stehparterre, the standing room directly under the President’s Box and the
best place in the house, was packed like a tin of sardines. Of course, Vienna has the
Vienna Philharmonic, in my view quite simply the best in the world, no longer challenged
by the Berlin Philharmonic because it has lost its incomparable Germanness and become
a mechanistic collection of glacial multinationals. It was five years ago that I last heard
the Vienna Philharmonic live, and my initial anxiety – had it changed? – happily went for
nothing. It still possesses the same liquid radiance and lustre as I first knew long ago in
1960, the same balance of ardour, power and sweetness, and such instinctive musical
unanimity that the orchestra even seem to breathe together. Christian Thielemann,
obviously a darling of the Viennese public, directed a flowing performance that was yet
generous dynamically and expansive emotionally, except for the Act I transformation
which was unexpectedly reserved. It was quite different from a broadcast from Bayreuth
which I have on CD and which is more extended and magisterial.
The production by Christine Mielietz was as confusing as ever. I still cannot make
head or tail of the derelict ablution block where the first part of Act I is located and where
Gurnemanz still spends his narrations wandering among his squad of trainee fencers
correcting their moves. Nor do I understand what is meant to be happening in the second
scene of Act I when the front of the stage goes up to disclose a basement full of troubled,
despairing figures. The most accessible part of the staging was the Klingsor scene in Act
II where Angela Denoke as Kundry was subjected to horrifying medical abuse, apparently
injected with hallucinogenic substances and chemical coshes by two grim and starchy
nurses, even as Klingsor sat repulsively on a red leather sofa to oversee the operation.
Kwangchul Youn
Michael Poehn / Wiener Staatsoper
The most arresting member of the cast was
Kwangchul Youn as Gurnemanz, and I was
nonplussed and delighted at how beautiful, rich
and steady his voice had become, nothing like
those grating rinds of tone that have marked his
singing lately. Falk Struckmann as Amfortas also
seemed in richer and steadier voice than on his
DVD of this role, of which more later. On this
occasion Simon O’Neill as Parsifal sounded
rather tight and hard throated, but his
performance seemed convincing insofar as it was
possible to judge it in this strange production.
Angela Denoke, already mentioned as Kundry,
brought a slim fine tone to the role and an
inalienable musicality, so that even her screech of
“lachte” was really sung and not just a screech.
Although the Mariinsky performances may not come again, the Leipzig and
Vienna Parsifals are in the repertoire, and I particularly urge anyone who can afford the
journey to Leipzig to go to Parsifal there next time round, because it is so easy and so
cheap to get in.
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