Germany Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg: Soloists, Extra Chorus & Chorus of Bonn Theatre / Beethoven Orchestra Bonn / Dirk Kaftan (conductor). Bonn Theatre, 3.10.2024. (DM-D)
The curtain opened to reveal the interior of a multi-purpose hall in post-war architecture with a raised stage. The stage’s curtains, in a ghastly green, opened shakily to reveal a black and white projection of a swastika on top of a Nuremberg Nazi building. A brief, hesitant single ‘boo’ was heard from the auditorium, before the swastika exploded and the green curtain closed. Now the overture started, the stage on the stage receded into the background, revealing more and more of the assembly hall itself. The hall became, in line with the opera’s plot, the environment for all the opera’s action, including the rehearsal space, the shoemaker’s rooms and the final fairground. The set was imaginatively designed by Timo Dentler and Okarina Peter, who were also responsible for the costume design. Here it became prominently important that the Mastersingers were members of a post-war Bonn carnival association, a tradition that has been thriving in several federal states and cities of Germany for many decades, including Bonn in North Rhine-Westphalia. The connotation of Bonn as the former political capital of West Germany and the opening night taking place on the day marking German reunification (3 October 1990) added to the political significance of this production.
Setting and context gave director Aron Stiehl ample opportunity to draw a precise story both on the grand scale and in the minute detail of character interaction across the chorus to include the principal singers. The company clearly enjoyed the result, relishing their individual characterisations and interactions. Here was the animal lover, who always appeared with his dog in his arms (German authorities prohibited putting the singer’s dog on stage and a toy dog had to be used instead). And then there was a prankster, someone who was rather inattentive to the world around him, reading books instead, and a very physically active person. The range of variety made the unanimous shock at Walther von Stolzing’s wish not to become a Mastersinger even more palpable. Everyone stopped in their tracks, thunderstruck, in tears or at least struggling for composure. This was a very powerful moment indeed and served as the basis for Hans Sachs’s defence of the role, purpose and vital importance of culture. All cast and chorus members were on the stage and in the aisles of the opera house, holding up cardboard signs with the names of important representatives of German culture. This scene served as a significant counterpoint to the representation of contemporary threats to society in the form of five oversized heads, a carnival float tradition, with caricatures of Putin, Trump, Alice Weidel, Björn Höcke, Marine Le Pen and Giorgia Meloni.
Beckmesser was the bureaucrat and official who makes sure everyone sticks to the rules. Such a figure is needed in every organisation, and people have an ambivalent attitude towards him: they know what he does is necessary, they would not want to do it themselves, but they still find him tedious. Joachim Goltz played him in just this way, competent, serious, committed, not even overdoing his duties, but in a way quietly enjoying them. As a complex character, he was much more convincing and became much more problematic than a one-sided interpretation would have allowed. He was genuinely impressed with the song as he found in Sachs’s workshop, and genuinely heartbroken and deeply ashamed on realising he could not do justice to it. The others were torn between laughing at him and feeling for him. Goltz achieved a unified portrayal of this Beckmesser through both acting and singing. His voice sounded pithy, the voice of a man assured of himself, without a hint of self-doubt, to start with, and suitably increasingly plaintive, but with a rough core, in moments of failure.
Hans Sachs was a character of quiet authority. People looked at him wondering what he might think about an issue, waiting for him to comment, but not challenging him to speak up. When he did talk, it was collected, considered, erudite, witty, always meaningful, and people listened with full attention. Tobias Schabel, a resident member of the Bonn opera company, in his role debut, was above all very versatile as Hans Sachs. The voice was flexible, sonorous and predominantly mellow. It floated with, rather than above the orchestra, sounded effortless and able to rise in volume as required by the score and the interpretation. For one part of a scene, he stood in the front of the auditorium, very close to the audience in the front rows, allowing for a close-up of the ways he moulded his voice, an impressive insight into the art of singing not usually possible at further distance.
David was proud to be the apprentice of Sachs and in an appropriate and balanced awe of him. Manuel Günther brought a very fresh and agile voice to this role, more of a lyrical than a character tenor, and his acting allowed David’s funny aspects to come to the fore. Anna Princeva, who is developing her international career from her position as a resident member of the Bonn opera company, gave her role debut as Eva. It suits her voice very well indeed, she has strength across the required registers, and her top notes ring out like bells. Further work on clarity of pronunciation would enhance the achievement even more. Mirko Roschkowski’s Walther von Stolzing was another role debut, a further stage on his path to heavier roles in the tenor repertoire, following on from Erik, Lohengrin and Froh (in Bayreuth 2024). He was made to look like a Bohemian artist, definitely an outsider within the carnival association, and his Walther was accordingly relaxed, self-assured, witty, slightly detached from what for him must be a strange environment. It is the very obvious love at first sight for Eva that kept him there and inspired his art, his singing. The voice was bright on a solid baritonal basis (which Roschkowski has developed over time, rather than progressing from baritone to tenor). He was able to distinguish well between gentle, lyrical passages and those requiring more heft. Only at the very beginning was there a tendency towards vocal strain, leading to the voice narrowing at the top. Perhaps this was due to entirely understandable opening night jitters. It did not distract at all from a very good role debut that makes one want to hear more. In the final prize song, the voice was truly radiant. His exclamation ‘Nicht Meister! Nein! Will ohne Meister selig sein’ was presented – at least musically – as the genuine climax of Walther’s role. Roschkowski put all of his vocal power into those phrases, making the stunned reaction of the Mastersingers all the more believable.
Pavel Kudinov impressed with his well-projected, rounded, sonorous bass voice as Veit Pogner, and Dshamilja Kaiser contributed a lively Magdalene with her well-crafted mezzo-soprano. Dirk Kaftan conducted the score at a predominantly brisk pace, corresponding to the often-considerable amount of precise and detailed action on the stage, while equally emphasising emotional moments. The orchestra stood out with the unison of the strings, while the brass showed some moments of inconsistency.
Daniel Meyer-Dinkgräfe
Production:
Director – Aron Stiehl
Set and costume design – Timo Dentler, Okarina Peter
Lighting design – Max Karbe, Jorge Delgadillo
Choreography – Sabine Arthold
Dramaturgy – Heili Schwarz-Schütte
Chorus director – André Kellinghaus
Cast:
Hans Sachs – Tobias Schabel
Walther von Stolzing – Mirko Roschkowski
Eva – Anna Princevy
Sixtus Beckmesser – Joachim Goltz
Veit Pogner – Pavel Kudinov
David – Manuel Günther
Magdalene – Dashamilja Kaiser
Night Watchman – Juhwan Cho
Fritz Kothner – Carl Rumstadt
Kunz Vogelgesang – Ralf Rachbauer
Konrad Nachtigall – Mark Morouse
Balthasar Zorn – Tae Hwan Yun
Ulrich Eisslinger – Samuel Levine
Augustin Moser – Hans-Georg Priese
Hermann Ortel – Christopher Jähnig
Hans Schwarz – Mikhail Biryukov
Hans Foltz – Martin Tzonev