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Werther on the Rhine Bonn
Koblenz (Festung Ehrenbreitstein)
01/31/2026 - & February 2*, 8, 12, 14, 18, March 1, 3, 5, 8, 21, 29, April 10, 2026
Jules Massenet: Werther
Piotr Gryniewicki (Werther), Danielle Rohr (Charlotte), Christoph Plessers (Albert), Hannah Beutler (Sophie), Jongmin Lim (Le bailli), Nico Wouterse (Johann), Nando Zickgraf (Schmidt), Ana Carolina de Medeiros Coutinho (Kätchen), Peter Rembold (Bruhlmann)
Damen des Opernchors, Lorenz Höss (Chorus Master), Kinder und Jugendliche der Chöre der Singschule Koblenz, Wolfram Hartleif (Chorus Master), Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie, Marcus Merkel (Conductor)
Markus Dietze (Director), Bodo Demelius (Sets), Astrid Noventa (Costumes), Julia Kaindl (Lighting), Georg Lendorff (Videography), Louise Nowitzki (Puppet Construction), Andreas Wahlberg (Dramaturgy)
D. Rohr, P. Gryniewicki (© Matthias Baus für das Theater Koblenz)
French operas of the nineteenth century were once among the most popular in the repertoire, but in the last half century, they’ve fallen out of fashion. One reason is the dearth of national singing schools, especially French ones, in our globalized opera world. Without an understanding of the French style, and without the required elegance and clear diction, experiencing these operas can be painful, replete as they are with dated mannerisms and utterly lacking in style.
Luckily, there have been singers over the years – though few native French speakers – who’ve risen to the occasion, making French opera sound authentic. Alfredo Kraus, Nicolai Gedda, Neil Shicoff, Victoria de Los Angeles, Catherine Malfitano, Jeannette Pilou and Ileana Cotrubas come to mind. In this production, in a small German town, none of the singers were native speakers, yet several strove to sing as best they could in the language of Molière.
Koblenz is a gorgeous town of about 120,000 inhabitants at the intersection of the rivers Rhine and Moselle. Surrounded by vineyards, hills and historic castles, it’s well worth a visit. Its opera house, Koblenz Theater, was built in 1797 and can accommodate 469 spectators. As it’s presently under renovation, shows are presented in a makeshift theatre, in tents on the grounds of the Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, outside the city centre. This temporary venue seats only about 350, making performances an intimate affair.
Markus Dietze’s staging was admirable, as it set the story in the present, yet managed to keep events relevant and uncontrived. This was quite an achievement, as it’s now highly implausible for a young woman to renounce a once‑in‑a‑lifetime experience of love at first sight due to a promise she’d made to her dying mother. Likewise, the tight‑knit community depicted evoked the 1950s more than the present, yet it was completely credible. The staging and direction of the singers was so natural that we felt we were watching actual events unfolding in a nearby town.
Bodo Demelius’ sets consisted of the Bailiff’s two‑floor home with a view into four rooms: a bedroom and a reading room upstairs, and a living room and a dining room downstairs. The Bailiff seemed to run a school out his home, as the children rehearsing Christmas songs numbered thirty. The clutter around the house, with Sophie and Charlotte busy with chores helped enhance the realism. The ability to observe the events did not distract, as nothing atypical of domestic life was happening.
Dietze used another device to channel emotion throughout the performance. At pivotal moments of intensity, notably the orchestral passages, puppets were used, representing younger versions of Charlotte and Werther. Later, puppets of their older selves were used. At the work’s tragic end, both sets of puppets “observed” the intense scene. Though neither essential nor revolutionary, this device was effective in channeling emotion in a creative way, other than via the protagonists.
Polish tenor Piotr Gryniewicki was well cast as Werther, though it was announced he was ill with the flu. Unfortunately, this affected his singing, especially his upper register, though his condition did not diminish his excellent interpretation. The thirty‑one‑year‑old impressed with his diction and feel for the language. Above all, he had the magnetic stage presence essential for his role. Even in Act I, he conveyed the character’s fragility and dreaminess. His Act I aria, “O Nature, pleine de grâce” was his best, probably as he was still fresh. He had no trouble sustaining the high notes, and his phrasing of “et toi soleil, viens m’inonder de tes rayons” was bang on. In his Act II aria, “Un autre est son époux !”, with its emotional outburst, he showed signs of fatigue. Nonetheless, his phrasing of “C’est moi qu’elle pouvait aimer” was effective. His “Pourquoi me réveiller ?” was obviously more rehearsed than the rest. It was exemplary: elegantly phrased, with no trouble in the higher register. Needless to say, it brought the house down.
American mezzo Danielle Rohr has a warm, though light mezzo, more suited to Mozart and Rossini. I prefer a lower voice to convey Charlotte’s complex emotions. Nonetheless I was impressed with Rohr’s impeccable diction and sensibility. Her bright timbre made Charlotte younger than usual (as imagined by the director). Less than in other productions, she didn’t overplay the character’s jovial spirit and “motherly” nature in Act I. Dietze probably wanted his Charlotte to be almost as dreamy as Werther. She was deeply affecting in her two scenes “Werther ! Qui m’aurait dit ! Ces lettres !” and “Va ! Laisse couler mes larmes”. Mercifully, she eschewed histrionics in these two scenes.
Swiss lyric soprano Hanna Beutler portrayed a modern‑day Sophie, outgoing and spirited but certainly not an ingénue, which is a realistic approach if the opera takes place in the present. This was obviously the director’s intent. At the preacher’s wedding anniversary, she arrived wearing inappropriate tennis garb, in poor taste, even for the present. This Sophie’s attraction for Werther was far from surreptitious. For many, Sophie’s function is to contrast with Charlotte, both vocally and temperament‑wise. Beutler’s coloratura is beautiful, but was negatively affected by the acoustics (more on this later).
Belgian baritone Christoph Plessers portrayed a decent but dull Albert. Unlike other directors, Dietze didn’t make him cruel or even jealous. The latter aspect is more in line with the present. Plessers’ diction was unsurprisingly idiomatic, though his country of birth (Belgium) may be the reason. Albert is not a vocally demanding role; Plessers acquitted himself well.
South Korea’s Jongmin Lim, as the bailiff, sang too loudly, so much so that he impeded the work of the chorus master for the children. The intent may have been to show this father’s dour nature, though this is not in the libretto. The other smaller roles were competently sung.
The biggest disappointment concerned the makeshift theatre’s limitations; there was no orchestra pit. Hence Marcus Merkel and the Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie rehearsed elsewhere with the singers. A recording was made for the singers to perform during the performance, i.e. the singers had no one to guide them during the performance or to adjust the tempo to suit their needs. Gryniewicki’s problems would have been less severe had there been a conductor on hand. An equally troublesome factor was that the singers sported microphones. The attendant distortion was harsher on the higher voices, notably the light soprano.
The greatest triumph of this production was the final act, which started with a noisy ice making machine to depict Christmas eve. A brilliantly made video of the dying Werther on the snow followed. At the same time, Gryniewicki enters the stage identically attired, mimicking the action on video. A running Charlotte then followed, both on video and on stage. The blinding white snow in the background intensified the drama manifold. Both Gryniewicki and Rohr were at their best in this tragic scene. Rohr portrayed Charlotte’s breakdown splendidly. Gryniewicki’s lines about being buried by the linden tree “Ecoute bien : là‑bas au fond du cimetière, il est deux grands tilleuls” were emotionally charged and truly moving.
Germany, as well as most European countries, have a long tradition of performing operas written in a foreign language in the vernacular. For example, some U.S. premieres of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries took place in Chicago in Croatian, Polish or Czech by the local opera companies that catered to the immigrant communities. Some may be familiar with the 1950s and 60s recordings of Italian, French and Russian operas on Deutsche Grammophon in German with the cream of German singers of the time. One of the best recordings of Otello features Wolfgang Windgassen, Teresa Stratas and Dietrich Fischer‑Dieskau singing auf Deutsch. Windgassen’s interpretation is truly magnificent, and I doubt he would have been half as good in the original Italian. Alas, with the craze for Urtext versions, such endeavours are no longer imaginable. However, it seems equally absurd to sing in a language that is particularly difficult to enunciate, and to make the public read surtitles in order to comprehend the work.
Verdi, Donizetti and Rossini made French versions of some of their operas, some of which are somewhat musically distinct. These French versions are being more frequently mounted, such as Il trovatore’s equivalent a few months ago in Wexford. This summer, the Wildbad Rossini Festival will mount the Gallic version of Semiramide, which I hope to attend. It may surprise some to know that the world premiere of Werther did not take place in Paris, but in Vienna, and auf Deutsch. Now that would be a worthwhile project for a German opera company! And it would be intriguing to see how faithful the German version would be to Goethe.
Ossama el Naggar
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