Not a Ring Cycle to ‘keep’, I think.
I have just (well, yesterday, though it stretched into today
by the time the curtain came down) sat through The Twilight of the Gods and thus have seen the whole of the
Liceu’s present Ring Cycle. I know when
confronted with such a towering masterpiece of musical genius (though very much
a flawed man) I should set forth my analysis and remember my academic
pretentions and write something perceptive and appreciative. Perhaps I will. But another time.
For me this
Cycle was marked by a pleasing amount of real fire and a confusing amount of
rubbish. I mean the latter in no
pejorative sense, but rather in a literal one.
The reforging of Northung, in a previous part of the cycle, was
accomplished in a junkyard with the central prop being a dilapidated small
caravan which exploded. The Rhine
Maidens moved their sinuous way through tyres, a bath and other oddments that I
took to be rubbish thrown into the Rhine, until Siegfried seemed to be able to
move about through it with equal ease.
The Norns appeared to be char ladies with mops with the ropes of destiny
being looped around stacked furniture which looked as though it was in some
depository, and so on.
The
production was subfusc with gods and demi gods wearing ordinary to the point of
tedium clothes. Seeing who was wearing
heels and who was wearing flats and why became one of the more interesting
design questions to ponder during the more tedious arias, because, let’s face
it, it is very difficult to maintain full attention for hour after hour in what
rapidly becomes and uncomfortable chair.
But such
concerns were forgotten when the transcendent chorus of the Liceu came on stage
during the second and third acts of the opera.
Not that the orchestral playing before then was not of a superlative
quality, but the wall of sound that the Liceu chorus produces sends shivers
down the spine!
It was
Brünnhilde’s night and deservedly so; her ovation was well merited. She had some opposition from the bass singing
the role of Hagan, but the star of this performance of Götterdämmerung was
Brünnhilde. Perhaps, in another post,
when I have more time I will give a more considered view and actually write in
the names of the great and the guilty in this production!
I have been backsliding this week. My diet has taken a hit because of the visit
of Maggie. I felt it would be churlish
to insist on agua fria when they were buying a bottle of wine, so I did not and
drank avidly. But this is a new sort of
avidity for me where one bottle was sufficient for three and at one notorious
point in the early evening I put my hand over my glass to refuse a refill! Self-denial can go little further.
It was
excellent seeing an old friend (and her friend, David) again, not only for the
news that she had, but also for getting reacquainted with a conversational
style that I have not heard for a frighteningly large number of years.
We are both
older, but we talk as we always did and it is the way that the talk is
structured, the way that we pause and go off at tangents, the cadences in the
voice that bring back so much more than mere information. It was true time travel in the best way
possible for me, via talking!
And Maggie
bought a copy of my book, Flesh Can Be
Bright, so I count the whole evening great success. I look forward to keeping more closely in
touch with her, but with her sort of event filled life, it might be
difficult. With golf, bridge, culture
and travel she is constantly on the move and constantly ‘doing’ and I will have
to run pretty hard to keep up with her.
But worth trying I think.
One
practical result of her visit has been to remind me that various arts
organizations around the world now broadcast some of their live performances to
cinemas. The NT does, though I am not
yet sure if they have an ‘outlet’ anywhere in Barcelona. I know that there are ballet and opera
opportunities, and I will keep my eyes open to try and expand my ‘live’
performance quota. I used to go to
orchestral performances in Barcelona until my opera going claimed my time and
cash. There is no reason why I cannot do
both, especially as the Liceu is much more flexible about the changing of seats
for their subscribers nowadays. This
really is a note to self and a call to action!
On the degree front, we are now all waiting for our
pro-formas to be returned. These are the
OU approved ways of letting you tutor know what it is that you have decided to
write your ‘long essay’ on for the last piece of work in the course. I have chosen to study a painter called Lluís
Dalmau whose most famous painting is called The
Virgin of the Councillors and was painted 1443-1445.
This is one of only two works which are
unequivocally by him: one in Barcelona and the other, down the road in St Boi.
My
pro-forma outlined my approach and cited works which I will use in the final
essay. The tutor will look at what I
have written and make suggestions which I will then take on board by modifying
my approach in response to her guidance and then write the essay. All simple and straightforward. Not.
You only have to read the forums for our course to see the panic which
is setting in and the desperation which drips from some posts! I maintain a lofty position of superiority at
the moment because I have found lots of references and I am ahead of the
reading requirements of the main course which is still going on.
This will,
of course all change as soon as I start writing the last normal essay of the
course and start on the long essay. I
will probably not post on the forums, but I will walk up and down in my
shockingly untidy ‘office’ on the third floor – and will look longingly at the
terrace as soon as the sun comes out!
Tomorrow a
meeting with Suzanne, a few art exhibitions and a menu del dia in MNAC –
overpriced, but worth it!