"Tristan und Isolde" is a really good opera. Who knew!

 

When I first saw the programme for the present opera season in the Liceu my heart sank: Tristan and Isolde was a feature.  The opera famous for length and nothing much happening on stage was set to be my early Christmas 'present' in musical terms.  And yes, I am being ironic.

I had approached the evening with increasing dread, trying to explain to Toni just what hard work some operas could be.  His response was, “Why go?”  To which my (unsatisfactory) response was, “Have you seen the cost of the tickets!”

So, I took my place yesterday, having remembered to turn up an hour earlier for the 7 pm (rather than the 8 pm start for normal length operas) with something of a heavy heart.  I sank into my aisle stall seat and waited for oblivion or ecstasy to take me!

In the event neither did. 

The opening prelude played by the orchestra of the Liceu was beautiful with measured and detailed playing which gave an accurate indication of the performance throughout this long opera.  In many ways the orchestra, Orquestra Simfònic i de Gran Theatre del Liceu was the true star of the evening as the reading of the music by the director Josep Pons was such that I was able to appreciate details that, in spite of previous hearings, I had never truly appreciated before.

The first appearance of Isolde (Iréne Theorin) demonstrated the assurance that she brought to the role throughout the evening.  Each nuance in the changing relationship of the two main characters was easily captured by her voice which retained richness of tone and assurance no matter whether she was singing piano or fortissimo.  The same could not be said for her Tristan (Stefan Vinke) where, the first time that we see them both together on the deck of the ship taking them to Cornwall, he appeared uneasy in his movement on stage and the quality of his voice felt a little rough to me.  Vinke did, however come into his own in the second act where the mixture of power and delicacy seemed to fit the register of his voice more happily, and he, after all, managed to sing through a role that would have ripped lighter voices to pieces with its demands.  His voice was something that I warmed to throughout the evening and, while I never felt that he matched his Isolde in terms of sheer quality, he was a noble partner.

Our first glimpse of the set was of something quite minimal with a strip of film of waves at the back of the stage suggesting the sea.  However, during the first act a giant ovoid shape was gradually lowered.  At first it reminded me of a giant spider’s egg sac, something holding a disturbing element of life within itself, but later a photographic realization of the surface of the moon was projected onto the shape and perhaps the idea of lifelessness and the link with the supernatural was suggested - though the realism of the moon surface markings suggested another interpretation.

In the second act the giant ovoid had been turned around and looked like the shell of a massive Easter egg.  Inside the curve of this egg were doorways, one of which, sited at the top of the egg had a curving staircase down to the stage level.  It looked interesting and was made more so by the use of projections on the convex surface.  For the long love duet the outlines of two trees were shown each growing branches into the other eventually filling the space.  Projections of fire were used effectively and a clichéd but exciting destruction sequence as the projections seemed to show the destruction of the edifice.

Although the set was simple, it had an epic grandeur and although it only vaguely suggested Marke’s castle it had a majestic elegance and gave a fitting setting for the performance of Albert Dohmen playing Marke, King of Cornwall.  His voice was rich and full and he played the role with a tired dignity that added pathos to the story without making it mawkish.

Sarah Connolly was an amazing Brangäne who sang superbly through her time on stage and moved with a professional assurance which gave a dramatic unity to the narrative, as did the other sung characters - this was an ensemble piece.

The final act had the ovoid turned so that its concave side was facing the audience.  A small ramp let up to a circular hole cut in the side that acted as a lookout for the anticipated ship bringing Isolde to her wounded lover.  Although massively there the set never intruded, it gave a setting, allowed action became almost a character in the action, but one that allowed the glory to go to the singers.  A beautifully judged use of something that could have been mere intrusion.

The final moments of the opera had dry ice smoke pouring through the hole in the set and settling on the bodies of the lovers, while shafts of light blazed through to the glorious sound of the music.  You might say that it was a little over the top, but how else to you adequately end an evening that was performed so well of an opera so awesome as this?

So, I liked it.

Much to my amazement.  I still think that there is an orchestral symphonic poem or even symphony that I might like to hear based on judicious selection of the music in this opera.  And, yes, I know that I am showing my essential uncouthness by suggesting that some of the music might be surplus to requirements and that it might benefit by some cutting.  But perhaps this is just another stage in my appreciation of the music and it might suggest that there is still some way to go before I am a true Wagnerite!