Regents Opera continue their Ring cycle with most impressive Die Walküre and Siegfried performances

United Kingdom Wagner, Die Walküre and Siegfried: Soloists, Regents Opera Orchestra / Ben Woodward (conductor), York Hall, Bethnal Green, London 11 & 13.2.2025. (JR)

Wagner – not in Bayreuth but in Bethnal Green – in a hall which is usually used to house a boxing ring. For details of Regents Opera (formerly Fulham Opera) and the background to this unusual and highly praiseworthy venture, I refer you to Mark Berry’s Das Rheingold review (here), the preliminary evening to the first opera in the Ring cycle, Die Walküre. I was impressed by Caroline Staunton’s intelligent, quirky modern production: the protagonists are physically very involved with each other and the opera never drags for a moment; such is the interaction between the singers. I was less impressed with the rather basic set, which was not much more than a set of props, often just plinths (apparently a white space denoting an art gallery); Hunding’s house was a table with a toaster, ‘Nothung’ (the magic sword) in a plastic cover, a small fridge (cold mead was drunk from the bottle) and a seemingly incongruous fire extinguisher. There was also a pit from which Sieglinde produced and caressed a tailor’s dummy – this had many puzzled – one surmised later in the opera that it a child for whom Sieglinde yearned.

I thought the fire extinguisher might have been a Health and Safety Requirement, as fresh toast was made for Siegmund’s meal; or as a security measure perhaps later, when the rock was encircled with fire (in this production, however, simply red lighting and smoke). No, it was used by Hunding to thwack Siegmund to death, something I had not seen before. There is an element in the production of contagion, white streaks on hair is evident on the Gods, Fricka lathers herself with body lotion which she smears on Wotan (it turns to powder), a sign perhaps of a transfer of power? Siegmund and Sieglinde touchingly share the same arm tattoos.

In Das Rheingold the words ‘Gesamt Kunst Werk’ were painted on Alberich’s back (and on the souvenir mugs at the Gift Shop); in Die Walküre the word ‘Entartet’ was scrawled on adhesive white tape by Wotan on Brünnhilde’s back. This made some sense when the Valkyries rode in bearing famous artworks, some of which were works considered by the Nazis as ‘Degenerate Art’. (The Nazis burned 5,000 artworks which they considered degenerate in Berlin in March 1939 and another 16,000 artworks were confiscated). Wotan smashed the pictures and they joined Brünnhilde on the blazing rock.

Costumes by Isabella van Braekel were a lot of fun. Hunding was a giant of a man and looked comical in a baggy 1950s grey check suit. The Valkyries wore gaudy patchwork apparel, which made them look like clowns. Full marks too to the make-up artist: excellent work by Tabitha Mei Bo Li (when Siegmund enters, he bears cuts and wounds to show he has been in several fights). Brünnhilde wrapped herself in a Superman towel. Staunton is not shy of making aspects of the Ring comic, no bad thing.

The soloists gave their all, easily able to fill the relatively small shoebox of a hall. Brian Smith Walters as Siegmund, perhaps more a baritone than a Heldentenor, sang his ‘Winterstrürme’ aria with finesse and his cries of ‘Wälse!’ were delivered with plenty of heft: I was less impressed with his German diction at times, which left the words indistinguishable. Justine Viani was very occasionally under the note at the top of her range, but quite creamy in the middle and lower registers. Gerrit Paul Groen (Hunding) with his great height and magnificent deep bass rather stole the show in Act I.

Act II was on a exalted level in all senses, in an even higher vocal class: Ralf Lukas is well-known Wagnerian, a German national, and so impressed throughout with real presence, impeccable intonation and diction. Danish mezzo Ingeborg Børch acted the part imperiously and sang with vim. The star of this act was undoubtedly Catharine Woodward (the conductor’s wife) whose vocal stamina and prowess could grace the stage at Bayreuth or the Met. Her top notes were almost invariably spot-on and diction crystal clear (the Woodwards live in Berlin, which helps).

On to Act III. I have described the ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ above. Vocally, all eight singers were in equally fine voice especially in their cries of  ‘Hojotoho!’; there were no weak links. The final scene where Wotan bids a fond farewell to his beloved daughter was most touching. It occurred to me that this opera works very well as a semi-chamber piece, there are no big choruses and usually only two singers in focus. Rather like a boxing ring, aptly: sparring partners Siegmund and Hunding in the first act, Wotan and Fricka in the second and Wotan and Brünnhilde in the final one.

Ben Woodward conducted with energy and precision. It took some minutes to get accustomed to the reduced forces (a 21-piece orchestra) especially in the evocation of the storms raging in the forest, but soon the accompaniment added to the enjoyment of the whole, such was the individual quality of the instrumentalists.

The second Ring opera, Siegfried, is often considered the Scherzo of the Ring cycle because of its youthful energy and light-hearted moments. These certainly came to the fore in this production. Mime wears industrial ear protection when hammering at his anvil. He sits in his hovel, reading presumably on how to mend a broken sword, next to an old standard lamp which flickers, much to his annoyance. Mime is sung by American tenor Holden Madagame, now a Berlin resident. Not a name I knew so I found out Madagame is an Odawa Native American and a transmasculine singer who has gone from mezzo-soprano to tenor. Prior to transitioning Madagame was apparently told he wouldn’t sing again professionally, so it is good to see and hear him on the stage.

The part of Mime suits Madagame to the ground, his rather strangulated sound is perfect for the role: his weaselly acting was an added bonus. Occasionally he lacked volume, which would be a downside in any much larger hall (York Hall holds 1,200). Siegfried enters clutching a teddy bear, which itself carries the black bag in which his now dead mother Sieglinde carried off the broken shards of Nothung. He wears a black T-shirt bearing the word ‘Slayer’. During his altercation with his foster-parent Mime he lifts him up and hurls him to the ground; Mime is half his size. A workman appears in a blue overall to fix the lamp, we soon realise this is the entry of the Wanderer (aka Wotan). He is munching an apple (golden?) and later devours a sandwich.

Siegfried is sung by American tenor Peter Furlong: his cries of ‘Nothung! Nothung!’ were vigorous and his top notes secure, he was tireless right to the end: on the less positive side, that meant he often shouted and was weaker in the tender passages, where there was little beauty of tone. Art continued to be a theme for this production: the anvil turned out to be in the shape of a urinal, signed ‘R. Mutt’. It needed a fellow critic to ask a stagehand for the meaning, and it was revealed to be an artwork by Marcel Duchamps (1917) entitled ‘A fountain’, which will have been lost by many in the audience. When Siegfried leaves home to search for the dragon, he smashes the anvil/toilet seat as the Nazis would have done, considering it a prime example – two decades later – of degenerate art.

Act II returned to the white space, which represented an art gallery. The gallery owner, in a smart blue dress, admitted the guests, gave them a glass of champagne and entry-stamped their hands; later she turned out to be the Woodbird. The dragon was enclosed at the outer edge of the gallery in a large plastic cage. Alberich is the first guest to arrive at the show, all in black leather, cutting a sinister figure. The Wanderer arrives next, also to witness the spectacle. Ralf Lukas continues to impress with his noble presence and distinguished bass. Rightly he garnered most of the applause at the final curtain call.

On various screens were depictions of various sculptures and artworks and occasional glimpses of Sieglinde, which Siegfried spots and which puzzle him. Fafner appears from his slumbers in glittering gold pyjamas, wonderfully acted, danced and sung by Bermudan bass Craig Lemont Walters. As he emerges for the fight, he has changed into a bewigged figure resembling Sieglinde, wearing Sieglinde’s dress; he/she duly dies from a stab by Nothung whereupon Sieglinde/Fafner strips off to reveal himself wearing a baby’s nappy. The producer is letting her ideas run riot. Is Siegmund deliberately killing his own mother, for seemingly abandoning him? After all, in the libretto, he is rather obsessed about knowing who his mother was and whether she will ever return to him.

The gallery owner turns Woodbird and Welsh soprano Corinne Hart had the perfect glittering, chirpy voice, hitting all her top notes with impressive precision.

Alberich and Mime enter wearing top hats for a dance routine to accompany their jaunty spat, Alberich wittily going off stage with boxing manoeuvres. Siegfried emerges from the cave bearing the gold pyjamas which doubled as the Tarnhelm and the ring. Mime then approaches and discloses, unwittingly his intention to chop Siegfried’s head off (his bottle of poison clearly marked ‘Danger!’). Siegfried slays Mime whose corpse, together with Fafner’s, are laid in the cave to guard what is left of the golden hoard.

Act III begins with Erda warning Wotan of the end of the Gods. Erda is magnificently sung by Swedish contralto Mae Heydorn; this is one of her major roles. Wearing slinky white satin pyjamas, she looked the part and one could imagine her character seducing Wotan in earlier times. Mime and Fafner re-appear as male nurses and lead Siegfried off to find Brünnhilde. The rock is the white art gallery space but now encircled by white gauze, and within it a series of veils. It all looked like the fitting rooms at John Lewis. The lighting technician had to work with lamps more often used to light the boxing ring so he did well to depict encircling fire. The Woodbird arrives and spreads a few white feathers to remind Siegfried who led him to the rock. Siegfried arrives, all in white with puzzlingly long sleeves. Brünnhilde is behind a veil, in a bridal gown. By now, Siegfried’s voice has lost much of its colour and their love duet is rather anodyne, despite Catharine Woodward’s fine singing. There is little magic or sensuousness in their meeting, and this lacuna is not aided by thin orchestral backing, suddenly we are aware that 21 instrumentalists cannot quite make a sumptuous sound which is needed at times throughout the Ring. By the end, the players sounded rather fatigued, evidenced by occasional lapses.

But one can’t have everything, which is one of the main messages of the Ring – power and happiness often don’t go together. This disappointing ending rather took the gloss off what was, otherwise, an entertaining production and generally fine performance.

John Rhodes

Featured Image: Regents Opera’s Die Walküre (‘Ride of the Valkyries’) © Steve Gregson

Production:
Director – Caroline Staunton
Assistant directors – Eleanor Strutt, Keiko Sumida
Designs – Isabella van Braeckel
Lighting – Patrick Malmström
Producer – CJ Heaver

Casts:

Die Walküre
Siegmund – Brian Smith Walters
Sieglinde – Justine Viani
Hunding – Gerrit Paul Groen
Wotan – Ralf Lukas
Brünnhilde – Catharine Woodward
Fricka – Ingeborg Novrup Børch
Gerhilde – Charlotte Richardson
Helmwige – Shannon Roberts
Waltraute – Catherine Backhouse
Schwertleite – Gráinne Gillis
Ortlinde – Ella de Jongh
Siegrune – Magdalen Ashman
Grimgerde – Grace Maria Wain
Rossweisse – Caroline Carragher

Siegfried
Mime – Holden Madagame
Siegfried – Peter Furlong
The Wanderer – Ralf Lukas
Alberich – Oliver Gibbs
Fafner – Craig Lemont Walters
The Woodbird – Corinne Hart
Erda – Mae Heydorn
Brünnhilde – Catharine Woodward