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Lost in Adaptation Bayreuth
Festspielhaus
07/31/2025 - & August 20, 2025
Richard Wagner: Götterdämmerung
Noa Beinart (Erste Norn), Alexandra Ionis (Zweite Norn), Dorothea Herbert (Dritte Norn), Catherine Foster (Brünnhilde), Klaus Florian Vogt (Siegfried), Michael Kupfer-Radecky (Gunther), Mila Kares (Hagen), Olafur Sigurdarson (Alberich), Gabriela Scherer (Gutrune), Christa Mayer (Waltraute), Katharina Konradi (Woglinde), Natalia Skrycka (Wellgunde), Marie Henriette Reinhold (Flosshilde), Igor Schwab (Grane)
Orchester der Bayreuther Festspiele, Simone Young (Conductor)
Valentin Schwarz (Stage Director), Andrea Cozzi (Sets), Andy Besuch (Costumes), Reinhard Taub, Nicol Hungsberg (Lighting), Luis August Krawen (Videography), Konrad Kuhn (Dramaturgy)
K. F. Vogt (© EnricoNawrath)
In this age of Netflix and binge-watching, we can’t wait to devour the final episode, even if our interest may have flagged along the way. But Valentin Schwarz’s Ring cycle could never be described as a riveting adaptation. It was a weird decision to render a profound work based on Norse mythology into a Dallas‑like family drama devoid of its mythologically-based magic. At times, this was an amusing exercise. But too often, the ideas conveyed were offensive. While we are aware of human foibles, especially within family dynamics, the child kidnappings, incest, attempted rape and overall gratuitous violence made this Ring more sordid than anything else, without adding any new insight.
Compounding this decidedly unmagical atmosphere, and to introduce domesticity, for this Götterdämmerung Schwarz decided the Prologue would open to the not‑so‑happily married Brünnhilde and Siegfried, and already with grown child (unlike the original story). Their abode is Siegmund and Sieglinde’s childhood home, as they remembered it in Die Walküre‘s Act I. In such a setting, the only way to successfully show the scene of the three Norns weaving the Rope of Destiny is by having them appear in Siegfried and Brünnhilde’s child’s dream (or, more accurately, nightmare). Though their words may have meant little to a child, their glittering chiffon outfits and veils were quite pretty.
Given the elimination of magic from the story, Brünnhilde must have gone to a fertility clinic after her cosmetic surgery in Siegfried, as she missed the magical deep sleep as called for in the libretto, and consequently has aged. Remember, she was a grown woman when Siegfried was conceived. The age difference may be a way of explaining Siegfried’s seven-year-itch and decision to leave in search of adventure, “Zu neunen Thaten, theurer Helde.”
Act I was more amusing than any previous act in Schwarz’s Ring, thanks to the over‑the‑top nouveau riche style of the Gibichung clan. If in Das Rheingold, Wotan and Fricka’s clan was the rich branch of the family and the Nibelungen, the poor trashy branch, the Gibichungs are the ultimate nouveau riche clan who’ve recently come into money; perhaps they struck oil in the trailer park. They seem to have just acquired Walhalla, and an overexcited Gutrune is seeing to it that the expensive furniture is properly installed. Both Gutrune and Gunther are cokeheads, while their conniving stepbrother Hagen is clear‑headed. With a photo of the trio with a freshly killed zebra on safari in Africa and its skin now a rug on the floor, the siblings are keen trophy collectors. Hagen easily convinces his half‑siblings that Brünnhilde and Siegfried would be the ideal trophy spouses for Gunther and Gutrune.
Without a magic potion, Siegfried is already eyeing Gutrune, which makes sense if Brünnhilde is his mother’s age. When Gutrune brings a green “magic” potion, ostensibly an opiate, Siegfried pours it over the head of Grane, who does not approve of Siegfried’s behaviour. Poor Grane, whether horse or Brünnhilde’s boy toy reduced to family servant, is tortured and eventually butchered by the Gibichung clan. The mixing of blood ceremonies is not performed; they merely have a drink together. By eliminating the magic potion, Siegfried is responsible for his actions, and therefore one can no longer sympathize with the opera’s hero – a serious dramatic failure.
In Schwarz’s unmagical world, Waltraute breaks into Siegfried and Brünnhilde’s home, via a window, to beg her sister to relinquish the ring to the Rhinemaidens, but to no avail. She does, however, succeed in scaring the living daylights out of the child.
The next scene, in which Siegfried abducts Brünnhilde, was the production’s most visually striking, though it made little sense. Siegfried had to simply give Gunther the key to his home. However, Gunther enters through the window, rapes Brünnhilde and abducts her, while Siegfried stands on the window sill, behind a curtain, watching. So, the previously “innocent” hero has indeed acquired kinky tastes. Though reprehensible, the disturbing scene evoked images of Dreyer’s Vampyr (1932) and Docteur Miracle in Les Contes d’Hoffmann. It was both powerful and memorable.
Act II opens to Hagen taking out his frustrations on a punching bag, an effective image for this tormented intriguer. The odd thing is that in Schwarz’s production, Hagen was abducted as a child and given to Fafner, so he probably does not even remember his father, Alberich. So when the latter appears to Hagen (“Schläfst du, Hagen, mein Sohn?”), to urge him to get the ring, it’s rather confusing, especially as Siegfried had given it to him in Act II of Schwarz’s Siegfried. Also, his life as an abductee and abused child with Fafner had rendered him a socially awkward mute, not a crafty master‑intriguer. Finally, in Schwarz’s adaptation, he befriends Siegfried and the two leave Fafner’s nursing home together. It’s weird the two do not recognise one another. Schwarz, master of creating intriguing twists, does not bother reconciling them with the overall plot. He conjures certain images for their immediate effect, but doesn’t care how they integrate into the complex story. The result is unnecessary confusion where there could have been magic and wonder – surely Wagner’s intention.
The summoning of the vassals scene was visually quite effective. Since the action was transposed to America, it would have made sense to make the vassals into the KKK in Texas or Mississippi, but Schwarz opted instead for an occult gathering wearing Venetian masks, à la Eyes Wide Shut (Kubrick; 1999). The animal sacrifice is conveniently poor Grane.
The hunting trip, devised to lure Siegfried so Gunther may kill him, is now a fishing expedition aside a watering hole in a dry reservoir, above which we see the desert behind the wired enclosure. The Rhinemaidens, now three old women afflicted with Parkinson’s, are sunbathing next to Siegfried and his child, who are fishing. The old ladies beseech Siegfried to relinquish the ring (which he no longer has, in Schwarz’s adaptation), to no avail. Again, a memorably striking image, but incoherent, now a Schwarz trademark.
While the two are fishing, Siegfried recounts his adventures, “Mime hiess, ein mürrischer Zwerg”, to his child. There is no remembrance potion, but instead a shared beer with Gunther and a stab in the back, while the vassals – who may be celebrating a stag party – watch from above. The stark desert in the background, the wire enclosure and the dried‑up reservoir did however provide striking images, another Schwarz idiosyncrasy.
The final scene is not at the Gibichung Hall but by the reservoir. Brünnhilde’s lines, ordering a huge funeral pyre to be assembled, make no sense, as she pours a canister of gasoline on herself in another memorable image. Mercifully, only the contours of the Masonic pyramid in a glass box are set aflame, a mostly underwhelming scene. Brünnhilde finds Grane’s head in a bag Gunther was carrying, singing her final words while holding the horse’s head. The precious child, the son of Siegfried and Brünnhilde, escaped the scene. A projection of embryos peacefully embracing, in contrast to the feuding ones that opened Das Rheingold, is shown during the final moments of the opera. This is despite the fact that the feuding, backstabbing and violence continued throughout to the very end. Had it not been for the solemnity of the music and the beauty of the singing, many would have laughed incredulously.
Again, as in previous episodes of Schwarz’ miniseries, Wagner’s music, the singers and orchestral players saved the day. The cast was among the strongest I have ever heard for this enduring, indestructible work.
Though Siegfried in Götterdämmerung is more complex than in Siegfried, Klaus Florian Vogt equally excelled here. It was a delight to hear a fresh lyrical voice able to confront this dramatic tenor role effortlessly, even at the end of the opera. Vogt’s technique is indeed unsurpassable. As in Siegfried, he is able to project sufficiently to reach seats in the heavens without forcing. His German elocution was utterly admirable, with his every word clearly understood, and imparted with the appropriate emotion.
Britain’s Catherine Foster is an appealing dramatic soprano endowed with a powerful and incisive voice. Heard earlier this season as Barak’s wife (Die Färberin) in Die Frau ohne Schatten in Berlin, she met the vocal and dramatic demands of that challenging role, as she had a few days earlier as Brünnhilde in Die Walküre and Siegfried.
The revelation of this performance was Finnish bass Mila Kares, a phenomenal singer and actor. Few Hagens have conveyed the character’s torment as Kares did. Vocally, his virile, velvety basso is naturally authoritative, without necessarily sounding evil or menacing. Finland, like neighbouring Russia, seems to be a reservoir for exceptional basses, such as Matti Salminen (b.1945) and the late Martti Talvela (1935‑1989). I fully expect this amazing singer to be one of opera’s leading basses before long.
German baritone Michael Kupfer-Radecky was an outstanding Gunther. He perfectly portrayed a weak, wealthy young man in over his head. His idiotic jubilation at achieving things beyond his reach, such as possessing Brünnhilde, was both powerful and repulsive. His pleasant high baritone contrasted well with Alberich’s dry one, and, more importantly, with Hagen’s bass.
Waltraute’s Act I scene with Brünnhilde is one of this opera’s most beautiful and intense ones. Alas, it was botched by Christa Mayer, who’s past her prime. Sadly, her vibrato is alarmingly large, though as a veteran in the role, she was impressive as an actress.
Gabriela Scherer excelled dramatically as the nouveau riche Gutrune. Even in Appalachia, she’d pass for a local, so well did she master the mannerisms of the character as conceived by Schwarz. Alas, Scherer’s voice was not convincing. A pronounced vibrato rendered her too mature and less alluring. In the final scene following Siegfried’s murder, she morphed into a more delicate woman with a more appealingly pure voice.
Australian conductor Simone Young was more uneven than in Siegfried, her strongest of the cycle’s four operas. The opening scene with the Norns was appropriately delicate and almost haunting; Siegfried’s Rhine journey at the end of the Prologue was ravishing; and Hagen’s call of the vassals was truly menacing. However, the Vengeance trio at the end of Act II was disappointingly underwhelming, as was much of the “Immolation Scene.”
Most will retain some of the striking images, such as ones we remember from films, however they will likely forget their context and the entire bizarre adaptation. This is a pity, as Schwarz’s family drama premise had all the makings of great success. Sadly, in his muddled alterations, he lost the thread, and along with it, much of Götterdämmerung’s meaning.
Ossama el Naggar
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