Graal jõudis tehase templisse
The Holy Grail Has Reached the Factory Temple
Loone Ots, Philologist and opera enthusiast
Richard Wagner’s opera Parsifal on 25, 26, 27 and 28 August in Noblessner Foundry. Stage director Nicola Raab, co-director Ran Arthur Braun, set designer Robert Innes Hopkins, lighting designer David Cunningham, musical director and conductor Arvo Volmer, conductor Risto Joost. In the title roles: Richard Decker and Roman Sadnik, other cast: Manfred Hemm, Richard Wiegold, Irmgard Vilsmaier, Magdalena Anna Hofmann, Eike Wilm Schulte, Rauno Elp, Martin Winkler, Koit Soasepp, Priit Volmer, Estonian National Opera orchestra and chorus.
Cross and space
When the Estonian National Opera decided to crown the year 2011 with Parsifal, the endeavour seemed unrealistic. Even disregarding all the technical difficulties, the main question still remained: would the viewers be able to understand the maestro’s last will, and how? Would they have the patience to remain focused for five hours straight, and would the theatre be capable of communicating the whole message?
To talk about the whole message would be an exaggeration, of course. The unfathomable intellectual content makes it possible to lay only a small fragment of the whole pattern onto the stage. Wagner has proceeded from a Christian legend about the search for salvation. Stage director Nicola Raab calls herself a modern person to the core and finds that the Christian essence of Parsifal is not unavoidable in the interpretation of the opera. However, her claim that Wagner never directly mentions God or Christ does not hold true: in addition to the story of crucifixion in the second act, God is mentioned several times, as a part of phrases, among other things. Yes, it could arguably be interpreted as a return to a pantheist original creator or another superior creature. But the cross sign that Parsifal makes with a lance is also explicitly and clearly addressed – the text is so powerful that all readings are possible and ad hoc correct.
Parsifal, the great mystery play, is a mental state opera that should provide an enlightening aesthetic-philosophical experience. Remember, the author wished to reserve his last work for the stage of the sacral Bayreuth only. The Estonian team decided to bring the stage to the foundry of Noblessner foundry. The partially preserved Art Nouveau elegance, the powerful Stalker effect of the grimy halls and the amazing sound offered a great variety of options that even Pirita Convent could not have provided. The remark by musicologist Kristel Pappel that the key to the opera lies in the sentence “time turns into space here” was confirmed.
But now about the result. The first Estonian Parsifal offers so much that a thorough analysis could provide material for at least one course paper. Adhering to the stage director’s contemporary emphasis would be an easy solution. In that case, the Ariadne’s thread of the examination could be borrowed from the SWOT analysis: the axes of strengths-weaknesses and opportunities-threats. Vision, mission and values could be added for the sake of total modernisation. Let’s give it a try.
Visionaries and missionaries
The vision is simple to formulate: after the year 2011, Estonia can boast a production of Parsifal. The mission would be even simpler – to offer an opera belonging to world classics among the events related to the Capital of Culture.
That can be done calmly – just to tick it off the list, so to say. But it can also be done with flare, in exaltation with the beauty and greatness of the work. In that case, the mission would be mostly viewer-oriented, elevating the audience spoiled in the age of computers with fantasy stories to the level of Wagner’s philosophy. The battle between Klingsor and Parsifal would then take on mighty proportions: will difficult-to-understand beauty or the habit of enjoying legends with well-tempered Hollywood special effects prevail?
An opera stage cannot compete in the 3D league. Its secret weapon is immediacy. The road to the Holy Grail is not generated by a programme – it is tangible. The tattered warriors who stand frozen here and there before the opera have not been rendered. The stairs boom. The choirs audibly shuffle their feet. The temple is not an illusion. Authenticity is a value. Is the elevation of a factory environment into a temple a vision or a mission? It seems like Euro-phrases fail to describe the powerful impression created, above all, by the set design and lighting. The stage that opens up, the employment of the surface beneath it, the choir on the galleries – it all worked. The technical team was just as good as the voices.
Presentation of values
Nicola Raab wants to show us the end of the era of an industrial society, leaving us with the question of whether the new generation is able to keep watering its garden until the wounds inflicted on the nature heal like the body of Amfortas. Silvery pipes rust away, the Knights carry their pieces like memories, at the same time covering the metal with a white towel (purity? mourning? all-concealing snow?). The falling fish nets remain perhaps too esoteric as a symbol. Those who are so inclined can interpret them as references either to St Peter or a fairy-tale of the “rich fisherman” variety. In the environmental context the message is terrible enough: proliferating iron kills all living things. Europe’s endless hassle over fishing quotas has been nicely integrated into the opera; the same goes for the greenhouse effect emphasised in Act III. Although green (once again genuine!) plants were already seen in the year 2008 Opéra Bastille production by Krzysztof Warlikowski, their unexpected authenticity produces the desired breath of fresh air.
Authenticity as a value is addressed in the second, “women’s” act, where Parsifal rejects the temptation of flowers. The deconstruction could once again give one goose bumps. Flower maidens hurl apples at Parsifal. That means that the real biological imperative of bearing fruit is replaced with fruitless blossoming. The cast in the scene acts and moves, in particular, well. But above all, the synchronicity between the director’s and Wagner’s own thought must be admired: the infertile Klingsor shows the denial of the primary value of life – natural or fertile love. Parsifal chooses agape, compassion, over carnal love, counterbalances the might of the magical kingdom and obtains a healing weapon that makes it possible to replace the power of desire with the might of creative force.
Stronger and the strongest
There are few weaknesses of the SWOT analysis in Raab’s production. The design, the particular solution of the costumes, albeit interesting, can be called into question. Arvo Volmer and the orchestra are excellent. A reviewer cannot help but remember the Stalinist order to depict life in a positive way and reduce the conflict to a battle between good and even better. In that case, I must say that Irmgard Vilsmaier sang and acted wonderfully. Even the lewd gesture in the second act seemed natural, pre-emptively eliminating the question of the limits of good taste on opera stage. In comparison to Richard Decker’s Parsifal, Vilsmaier’s Kundry was better, leaving an impression of effortlessness. Decker has a proper heroic tenor. The role of a cowboy assigned to his stage character might have resulted from the director’s ruthless dictate, but personally, I would have preferred to witness more charm in the performance. Wagner has formed an even ensemble around the main characters, with Gurnemanz (Manfred Hemm) and Amfortas (Eike Wilm Schulte) having important roles. The work of the adversary Klingsor (Martin Winkler) is simpler. Evil is always easier to depict than good.
It is highly gratifying for an Estonian that our very own Koit Soasepp – representing, however, the Finnish National Opera on the programme – has managed to snatch the role of Titurel. The applause of the home audience was well deserved. The Estonian National Opera was represented by four squires (Juuli Lill, Teele Jõks, Aleksander Arder and Andres Köster), as well as three flower maidens (Kristel Pärtna, Kristina Vähi and Albina Kotšetova). There seem to be quite a few Wagner singers in the making.
Great opportunities and grave danger
The Estonian National Opera should be commended for not taking the easy road when selecting works by Wagner. For the sake of continuity, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (The Mastersingers of Nuremberg) could be the next in line. But where to place its gigantic choirs? Is Noblessner the only option? For how long is that solution going to prove fruitful? Our voices as well as directors, not to mention conductors, are tempted to go abroad. One of the reasons is the repertoire, which in turn is determined by the scarce options of the outdated theatre hall. So let us join forces in asking the Estonian state, together with the tax-payer, to provide a true modern temple for the Holy Grail. Let us kill the danger of castrating the Estonian opera, turning it into a Klingsor!
During the first intermission, many non-musician acquaintances of mine complained that they could understand nothing but the beauty of the music. By the second intermission, they had already plunged into the message and claimed to understand everything. Several viewers expressed their wish to see Parsifal again. Some even bought a ticket for the very next night. The task of the missionary has therefore been fulfilled. Thank you, Estonian National Opera!
Piirilinna „Parsifal”
Kristel Pappel / Sirp
09.09.2011 Volmer dirigeeris end „Parsifaliga” Wagneri-dirigentide rahvusvahelisse klassi.
Richard Wagneri lavamüsteerium „Parsifal” Rahvusooperis Estonia: muusikaline juht ja dirigent Arvo Volmer, dirigent Risto Joost, lavastaja Nicola Raab (Saksamaa), kaaslavastaja Ran Arthur Braun (Iisrael), kunstnik Robert Innes Hopkins (Suurbritannia), valguskunstnik David Cunningham (Šotimaa). 25. ja 28. augusti etendused.
Vaadates Noblessneri valukoja juures Peetri sadamast merele, silmapiirilt tõusvatele ja selle taha laskuvatele laevadele, vaadates piirkonna tööstusmaastikule, töös ja tööta tehastele, vaadates nõukogude totalitaarse ühiskonna jäänustele, seisaksime justkui mineviku ja oleviku, suletuse ja avatuse piiril. Richard Wagner oleks sellist minevikku, mis siin kangastub, nimetanud taunivalt sõjatsivilisatsiooniks (Kriegszivilisation), nagu ta elu lõpul oma kaasaega kritiseeris. „Parsifal” oli mõeldud väljapääsu osutusena sellest.
Kui rahvusooperi „Parsifali” finaalis avaneb valukoja tagasein augustiöhe, ei näe me, aga tajume mere kohalolu – vabadus, avarus, uued võimalused, aktiivse tegutsemise aeg. Parsifal on täitnud oma missiooni Lunastaja käepikendusena, andnud kriisi takerdunud Graali kogukonnale uue jõu, vabastanud Graali kuninga Amfortase piinadest, viinud taas kokku püha oda ja Graali karika ning sammub nüüd, oda käes, kapseldunud maailmast välja, tema järel Graali rüütlid. Neil on käes rännukepid või hoopis teravikuta odad – viimasel juhul vastaks see siis Wagneri rõhuasetusele, et püha oda pole mõeldud sõjarelvaks ja et Graali kogukonna allakäik sai alguse hetkest, mil Amfortas hakkas sõdima Klingsori vastu.
Nicola Raabi lavastuses on Graali rüütlitele avanenud nii sisemine kui väline vabadus ning kriisi läbitegemine lükkab nad tundmatutele teedele, samal ajal edasi Graali ülesandeid järgides – hoida headus ja kurjus tasakaalus. See on lavastuse positiivne programm, mis leiab toetust Wagneri muusikast. Isegi kui lavastaja on midagi muud silmas pidanud, sai välja lugeda just selle – nagu oleks Wagneri võimas teos haaranud lavastaja tahet eirates ohjad enda kätte. Kuna tegemist oli „Parsifali” esimese lavastusega Eestis, oli tähtis, et teose paljudest mõtteliinidest kõige olulisemad vaatajani jõuaksid, s.t lavastaja oli pigem vahendaja kui kriitiliste küsimuste esitaja. Kohati näis lavastaja küll oma ülesandes kõhklevat ega viinud teatud kujundeid või liine järjekindlalt ning selgelt lõpuni. Samas tundsin suurt kergendust, et laval ei lehvinud haakristiga või sirbi ja vasaraga lipud, et polnud plakatlikke viiteid XX sajandi diktatuuridele, et lavale ei olnud toodud Wagnerit, Hitlerit või Stalinit, ei oktoobriega laulvat revolutsiooni, ja et kui ka lavastaja mõte jäi häguseks, sundis see vaataja arutlema ega tapnud ta fantaasiat.
Wagnerile oluline teema – inimese ja looduse kooseksisteerimine ning mure inimese julmuse pärast looduse kohtlemisel, pääses maksvusele I vaatuse luigetapu stseenis, mil Parsifalis esimest korda tärkab kaastunne ta enda poolt surmatud olevuse vastu. III vaatuse suure reede ime, õidepuhkevat aasa, sümboliseeris väike kasvuhoone aasalilledega, mida hooldasid Gurnemanz ja Kundry. Lavastaja tahtel astus ooperi viimaste taktide kõlades lavale väike poiss ja hakkas lilli kastma – laps oli südi esineja, aga idee iseenesest paraku täiesti tarbetu stiililine ja sisuline möödalaskmine, hollywoodlik happy end.
Kogu lavastuse laad oli selle silmapilguni välja peetud range ja askeetlikuna, igal tegelasel, ka kooriliikmetel, oli oma väärikus. Siiski tekkis mulje, et lavastaja on tundnud ennast töös lauljatega ebakindlalt ning mõnedki kavatsused on jäänud teostamata. Kõige enam kannatas selle all I vaatus, mis juba Wagneril on täidetud pikkade jutustamiste ja nende kuulamisega. Kannupoisid (tunnustust väärivalt stabiilsed Juuli Lill, Teele Jõks, Aleksander Arder, Andres Köster) püüdsid kuulata nii kuis jaksasid, ehkki jutustav Gurnemanz (Manfred Hemm) vaevu nende poole pilku heitis. Ka Graali rüütlid (heal tasemel Urmas Põldma ja René Soom) üritasid teiste lavalolijatega kontakti leida. Üheplaaniliseks jäi muidu meeldivalt laulnud Richard Decker Parsifali rollis, kontrast I ja III vaatuse vahel võinuks olla suurem. Soliste oli kaks koosseisu, mille erinevus oli tingitud esmajoones lauljate isikupärast, mitte laulmise tasemest. Üksnes Martin Winkler Klingsorina oli kõigil neljal etendusel laval, tõlgendades osa teravate kontuuridega ja karakteerselt ning lisades aeg-ajalt näpuotsaga irooniat. Klingsori ja Kundry (Irmgard Vilsmaier, Magdalena Anna Hofmann) vaimne võitlus II vaatuses lähenes XIX sajandi lõpupoole psühholoogilisele draamale à la Ibsen. Üldiselt võiks öelda, et esimene koosseis (Decker, Vilsmaier, Hemm, Eike Wilm Schulte Amfortasena) oli monumentaalne ja igaüks seisis laval eraldi nagu ausammas ning teine koosseis (Sadnik, Hofmann, Richard Wiegold Gurnemanzina ja Rauno Elp Amfortasena) oli dünaamilisem ja mitmekülgsem nii vokaalis kui ka rollitõlgendustes. Heameel oli täheldada Vilsmaieri arengut küpse ja ühtlase häälevaldamise suunas – mäletame teda ju aastast 2008 võimeka sopranina Isolde rollis, nüüd aga pakkus ta skulpturaalse Kundry. Magdalena Anna Hofmanni lähenemisviis meenutas oma plastilisuse ja liikuvusega üht viimaste aastakümnete mõjuvõimsamat Kundryt Waltraud Meierit.
Juba Hofmanni Kundry ilmumine I vaatuses metsiku ratsanikuna mõjus nagu tuulekeeris seiskunud maailmas, Kundry kaksikloomuse jaoks vajalikke erinevaid värve leidis ta II vaatuses nii Klingsoriga kui ka Parsifaliga suheldes. Ooperi südamik ja pöördepunkt, mil Parsifal saab tänu Kundry suudlusele nägijaks inimkonna kannatuste suhtes, mõjus mastaapselt mõlema koosseisu esituses. Järgnev Parsifali visioon Kristuse kannatustest, kuulduna Kundrylt, jõudis selgemalt publikuni Sadniku esituses. Samas ei pingutanud ta üle risti kujundi kasutamisega – ainult üks kord moodustasid käed ja keha risti. (Deckeri puhul esines seda kujundit kas taotluslikult või ebatäpsuste tõttu liiga palju nii II kui ka III vaatuses, samuti nägime seda I vaatuses seoses Amfortasega.) Eesti solistidest tegid suuremates rollides kaasa peale Rauno Elbi ka Koit Soasepp (Soome Rahvusooper) ja Priit Volmer, mõlemad Titureli rollis. Soasepal on suurepärane häälematerjal, sügav ja mahukas bass, ka Volmer pani end maksma, lauldes veenva tõsiduse ja otsustavusega. Rauno Elbi Amfortas aga, üks olulisemaid Wagneri-rolle, oli suur saavutus. Elp vastas Wagneri ettekujutusele lauljast, kes mõtestab teksti, leiab fraasidele ja kaalukatele sõnadele eri värve ning tunnetab sügavalt situatsiooni ja karakterit. Kui Parsifal lähenes Amfortasele püha odaga, et tolle haav sulgeda, haaras surma- ja lunastuseootusest vallatud Amfortas ise odast kinni ning lõi selle oma veritsevasse haava.
Võluvalt ja täpselt esinesid II vaatuses võlulilleaia neiud-solistid (Kristel Pärtna, Kristina Vähi, Albina Kotšetova, Kadri Kipper, Angelika Mikk, Kristina Under). Neiud – nii koor kui ka solistid – olid rõivastatud II maailmasõja järgsete vabrikunaiste töökitlitesse (kunstnik Robert Innes Hopkins) ja nad kandsid ka vastavaid peakatteid, inspireerituna vabrikumiljööst. Graali rüütlid aga (Estonia laiendatud meeskoor) meenutasid oma pruunide-hallide talvemantlite ja mütsidega samaaegseid ametnikke. Koorid (lisaks nais- ja meeskoorile ka poistekoor) olid väga hästi välja töötatud ja viimistletud ning isegi saksa wagneriaanid imetlesid keele kõla ja artikulatsiooni (koormeistrid Risto Joost, Peeter Perens, Hirvo Surva, Andres Lemba, Maarja Soone). Graali rüütlid (meeskoor) moodustasid individuaalsustest koosneva nõrkenud kogukonna, kes aga otsustaval hetkel on võimeline liituma ka jõuliseks, nõudlikuks massiks. Nii I kui ka III vaatuse templistseenid olid tänu kooridele väga mõjuvad. I vaatuses ilmuvad Graali rüütlid armulauateenistusele, igaühel käes oma anum, kaetud valge linaga; anumatest moodustatakse eeslavale pikk toru – nagu veresoon? Koorirežiid oli püütud kujundada võimalikult dünaamiliseks ja ekspressiivseks (Raabi kaaslavastaja oli Ran Arthur Braun).
Noblessneri valukoja akustika oli suurepärane, tasakaal vokaali ja orkestri ning orkestrisiseselt eri pillirühmade vahel väga hea ja loomulik. Orkester voogas mahukalt ja võimsalt, samal ajal sai jälgida faktuuri eri liine, juhtmotiivide põiminguid ja nautida pillisoolosid. Kõik pillirühmad said ülesandega silmapaistvalt hakkama, nii et pärast viimast etendust tekkis tahtmine mängijaid kättpidi tänada, esmajoones aga muidugi muusikalist juhti Arvo Volmerit. Volmer dirigeeris end „Parsifaliga” Wagneri-dirigentide rahvusvahelisse klassi. Ta leidis sobivad proportsioonid aeglaste ja veel aeglasemate tempode vahel, ei kaotanud kordagi silmist tervikut ega dramaturgilist arengut ning ehitas targalt üles kulminatsioone, manas orkestrikõlast esile tumedaid nõiduslikke toone, pehmeid segatud värve ja säravat metalset kõla.
Wagneri hilisromantilise, avangardi sugemetega muusika mõju võimendas vastandpoolusena Noblessneri mahajäetud tööstuskeskkond. Etendus algas tegelikult juba Peetri sadamast ja hoone vahetust ümbrusest, kus konutasid, käisid masinlikult edasi-tagasi Graali rüütlid (koorilauljad), kuuludes etenduse ruumi. Rusuv tööstusmaastik jätkus hoone sees laval, peamiseks kujunduselemendiks järjest rohkem lagunevad torud. Kui tegemist olnuks kujundusega „päris” teatrimajas, mõjunuks see klišeena, sest sellist Wagneri ja industriaalsete komponentide ühendamist harrastati rahvusvaheliselt juba 1970ndatel. Originaalmiljöös oli aga niisugune lahendus põhjendatud. Kõige efektsemalt mõjus II vaatuse algul lavapinna raginal tõusmine ning jagunemine Klingsori võluriigi laeks ja põrandaks või taevaks ja maaks. Intensiivsust suurendas punane valgus, mis mähkis endasse laval seisvad kaks viini tooli (valgustuskunstnik David Cunningham). I vaatuses looduse keskel toimuva tegevuse taustana paistis vabriku akendest naturaalne valgus, mis Graali templistseeniks kinni kaeti. Ooperi lõpustseeni avanemisest öhe oli juba juttu. Ent mis see ikkagi on, mis meile avaneb? Wagner ise on „Parsifali” orkestrisissejuhatusele väikest seletust kirjutades rõhutanud jäävaid väärtusi – usk, lootus, armastus, aga mitte nagu me seda Pauluse kuulsast kirjast korintlastele tunneme (13:13), vaid Wagneri moodi järjestatuna: armastus – usk – :lootus. Need kolm. Suurim neist on aga lootus? Me vajame Wagnerit, et ooperi abil selliseid küsimusi esitada – seda tõestab ka publiku suur huvi „Parsifali” vastu. Kolm aastat tagasi loodi Estonias „Tristani ja Isoldega” pinnas Wagneri viljelemiseks Eestis. Loodame, et mõistame selle tegevuse tähtsust ja suudame seda jätkata.
Parsifal in Border Town
Kristel Pappel
With Parsifal, Volmer conducted himself into the world class of Wagner conductors.
Richard Wagner’s mystery play Parsifal in the Estonian National Opera: musical director and conductor Arvo Volmer, conductor Risto Joost, stage director Nicola Raab (Germany), associate director Ran Arthur Braun (Israel), designer Robert Innes Hopkins (UK), lighting designer David Cunningham (Scotland). Performances on 25 and 28 August.
Looking at the sea from Peetri Harbour near Noblessner Foundry, the ships emerging from and disappearing behind the horizon, the area’s industrial landscape, functioning and abandoned factories, the relicts of the totalitarian Soviet society, it is as if we were standing on the border of the past and the present, seclusion and openness. Richard Wagner would have condemned the kind of past that looms here as war civilisation (Kriegszivilisation) – this is how he criticised his own era towards the end of his life. Parsifal was intended to show a way of out it.
As the back wall of the foundry opens into the August night in the finale of the Estonian National Opera’s Parsifal, we do not see as much as sense the presence of the sea – freedom, vastness, new opportunities, time for vigorous action. Parsifal has fulfilled his mission as an instrument of the Saviour, given new strength to the Grail Society in crisis, relieved Amfortas, the King of the Grail, of his agony, reunited the Holy Lance and the Grail Chalice, and is now walking out of the enclosed world, lance in hand, followed by the Knights of the Grail. They are holding walking poles, or perhaps lances without a pointed tip – in the latter case, it would correspond to Wagner’s emphasis that the Holy Lance is not meant to be a weapon of war and the decline of the Grail Society began when Amfortas went into war against Klingsor.
In Nicola Raab’s interpretation, the Knights of the Grail experience both internal and external freedom. Going through a crisis propels them toward unfamiliar roads, while they are fulfilling the tasks of the Grail – keeping the good and evil in balance. That is the positive side of the staging, supported by Wagner’s music. Even if the director had something else in mind, that was the idea that emerged – as if Wagner’s powerful work had taken the lead, ignoring the volition of the director. Given that this was the first production of Parsifal in Estonia, it was essential that the most important ones of the work’s many lines of thought reach the viewer, i.e. the director was a mediator rather than a critical enquirer. At times, however, the director seemed to be hesitant about her task and failed to carry certain motifs or lines to a consistent and clear conclusion. At the same time, I felt great relief that no swastika-bearing or hammer-and-sickle flags were waved around on the stage, that there were no banner-like references to 20th-century dictatorships, that neither Wagner, Hitler nor Stalin had been put on the stage, that no October or Singing Revolution was depicted, and that even if the director’s intention remained ambiguous, it still forced the viewers to ponder and did not stifle their imagination.
A subject important to Wagner – the co-existence of mankind and nature, and the concern about human cruelty in treating nature – became apparent in the swan-killing scene of the 1st act, where for the first time, Parsifal experiences compassion for a creature he himself has killed. The Good Friday miracle of the 3rd act – the blossoming meadow – was symbolised by a small greenhouse with wildflowers, taken care of by Gurnemanz and Kundry. According to the director’s decision, a small boy stepped on the stage during the final bars of the opera, and started watering the flowers – the child was a plucky performer, but unfortunately, the idea itself was in essence a completely superfluous stylistic blunder, a Hollywood-like happy ending.
Up to that moment, the manner of the whole production had been stern and ascetic; each character, even choir members, had a special dignity. Nevertheless, I was left with the impression that the director had felt insecure working with the singers and quite a few ideas had remained unused. Above all, this affected the 1st act, which Wagner himself already filled with performing and listening to long monologues. The squires (the admirably stable Juuli Lill, Teele Jõks, Aleksander Arder, Andres Köster) tried to listen as well as they could, although the reciting Gurnemanz (Manfred Hemm) barely even gave them a look. The Knights of the Grail (Urmas Põldma and René Soom, who gave excellent performances) tried to achieve contact with other characters on the stage as well. Richard Decker as Parsifal seemed to lack depth, although was otherwise pleasant: the contrast between the 1st and the 3rd act could have been greater. There were two sets of soloists, whose difference came mostly from the singers’ individuality, not their level of singing. Martin Winkler as Klingsor was the only one to take the stage in all four shows, interpreting his role with sharp contours and in a characteristic manner, adding a touch of irony every now and then. The intellectual battle between Klingsor and Kundry (Irmgard Vilsmaier, Magdalena Anna Hofmann) in the 2nd act bore resemblance to the psychological dramas of the late 19th century à la Ibsen. In general, it could be said that the first cast (Decker, Vilsmaier, Hemm, Eike Wilm Schulte as Amfortas) was epic, with everyone standing on the stage on their own like monuments, whereas the second one (Sadnik, Hofmann, Richard Wiegold as Gurnemanz and Rauno Elp as Amfortas) was more dynamic and versatile with regard to both vocal performances and character interpretations. It was a delight to notice how Vilsmaier developed toward a mature and stable command of voice – we can remember her from the year 2008 as a gifted soprano in the role of Isolde, while now she gave us a sculptural Kundry. Magdalena Anna Hofmann’s approach with its expressiveness and dynamic range was reminiscent of Waltraud Meier, one of the most influential Kundrys of recent decades.
Merely the appearance of Hoffmann’s Kundry as a wild rider in the 1st act seemed like a whirlwind in a stagnant world; she also found the different colours needed for Kundry’s twofold nature in the 2nd act, interacting with both Klingsor and Parsifal. The core and turning point of the opera, where Parsifal opens his eyes to the mankind’s suffering thanks to Kundry’s kiss, had a powerful effect in the rendition of both casts. Parsifal’s subsequent vision of the passion of Christ, as heard from Kundry, reached the audience more clearly through Sadnik’s performance. At the same time, he did not overuse the motive of the cross – his arms and body formed a cross just once. (With Decker, that figure appeared too often in both the 2nd and 3rd acts, either intentionally or by mistake; we also saw it in the 1st act in connection with Amfortas.) As far as Estonian soloists go, in addition to Rauno Elp, Koit Soasepp (Finnish National Opera) and Priit Volmer also had major roles, both as Titurel. Soasepp has splendid vocal material, a deep and capacious bass; Volmer, singing with convincing gravity and determination, was effective as well. However, Rauno Elp’s Amfortas – one of the most important Wagner roles – was a superb achievement. Elp matched Wagner’s vision of a singer who gives meaning to the text, finds different colours for phrases and weighty words, and feels the situation and the character deeply. When Parsifal approached Amfortas with the Holy Lance to close his wound, Amfortas, engrossed by awaiting death and redemption, grasped the lance himself and pressed it into his bleeding wound.
The enchanted flower maidens/soloists in the 2nd act (Kristel Pärtna, Kristina Vähi, Albina Kotšetova, Kadri Kipper, Angelika Mikk, Kristina Under) performed in a charming and precise manner. The girls – both the choir and the soloists – were dressed in post-World War 2 factory workers’ smocks (designer Robert Innes Hopkins). They also wore corresponding headwear inspired by the factory environment. The Knights of the Grail (extended men’s choir of the Estonian National Opera), on the other hand, looked like officials of the same era in their taupe winter coats and hats. The choirs (also a boys’ choir in addition to women’s and men’s) were very well developed and refined. Even German Wagnerians admired the sound of their language and articulation (choirmasters Risto Joost, Peeter Perens, Hirvo Surva, Andres Lemba, Maarja Soone). The Knights of the Grail (the men’s choir) formed a weakened society made up of individuals who were nevertheless able to unite into a powerful, demanding mass at a critical moment. Thanks to the choirs, the temple scenes of the 1st and 2nd act were highly effective. In the 1st act, the Knights of the Grail show up at a communion service, each holding a container covered with a white sheet; the containers are arranged on the front stage into a long tube – like a blood vessel? The choir directing was intended to be as dynamic and expressive as possible (Raab’s co-director was Ran Arthur Braun).
Noblessner Foundry had splendid acoustics, the balance between vocals and orchestra and the different instrument groups within the orchestra was excellent and natural. The orchestra flowed voluminously and powerfully; at the same time, the different lines of the texture and the intertwining leitmotifs could be followed. Instrument solos were enjoyable. All instrument groups did a spectacular job, so that after the last show I got the urge to thank the players, and especially the musical director Arvo Volmer, with a handshake. Volmer conducted himself into the world class of Wagner conductors with Parsifal. He found fitting proportions for slow and even slower paces, never lost a sight of the whole or the dramaturgic development, cleverly built up to culminations, and conjured up dark, bewitching tones, soft blended colours and bright metallic sound from the orchestra.
The effect of Wagner’s late romantic music with a hint of avant-garde was intensified by the abandoned industrial setting of Noblessner as its polar opposite. In fact, the show already started in Peetri Harbour and the immediate surroundings of the building, where the Knights of the Grail (choir singers), hung about and walked back-and-forth mechanically as a part of the show’s environment. The oppressive industrial landscape continued inside the building and on the stage, with ever more decaying pipes as the main design element. It would have come off as a cliché if such a design had been created in a “real” theatre hall, because such a combination of Wagner and industrial components was practised on international stages already in the 1970s. In the original setting, however, that solution was justified. The creaky lifting of the stage at the beginning of the 2nd act and its splitting into the ceiling and floor, or heaven and earth, of the enchanted kingdom of Klingsor was particularly striking. The intensity was increased by red light that enveloped the two Vienna chairs standing on the stage (lighting designer David Cunningham). The action of the 1st act that took place in nature was illuminated by natural light coming in from the factory’s windows, which were covered for the temple scene of the Grail. The opening of the final scene of the opera into the night was already mentioned. But what is it, exactly, that is opened up for us? In a short explanation of the overture of Parsifal, Wagner himself has stressed eternal values – faith, hope, love – but not in the order we know from Paul’s famous letter to the Corinthians (13:13). Instead, they are ordered as suits Wagner: love – faith – hope. These three. The greatest one is hope? We need Wagner to ask such questions, aided by opera – the great audience success of Parsifal is proof of that. Three years ago, the Estonian National Opera laid a foundation for performing Wagner in Estonia with Tristan und Isolde. Let us hope that we can understand the importance of this endeavour and will be able to continue it.
Wagner Eesti laval
Toomas Zupping / Kultuuripealinn
02.09.2011
Valukoda sobis kui valatult.
Richard Wagneri lavamüsteerium «Parsifal» 25. augustil 2011 Noblessneri valukojas. Muusikaline juht ja dirigent Arvo Volmer, Rahvusooper Estonia orkester, koor ja poistekoor, lavastajad Nicola Raab (Saksamaa) ja Ran Arthur Braun (Iisrael), kunstnik Robert Innes Hopkins (Suurbritannia), valguskunstnik David Cunningham
(Šotimaa).
Richard Wagnerile kuulub maailma ooperiliteratuuris täiesti eriline koht, tema looming on alati põhjustanud teravaid vaidlusi. Wagneri loomingut on vägivaldselt rakendatud natsliku ideoloogia teenistusse, seda on tahetud keelata ja tema ooperimajagi lammutada. Tänapäeval kuulub Wagneri looming iga tõsiseltvõetava ooperimaja repertuaari.
Wagneri vaimne testament «Parsifal» on üks võimsamaid oopereid, helilooja ise nimetas seda lavamüsteeriumiks. Teose loomine kestis ligi nelikümmend aastat, paljusid tema varasemaid oopereid võib tinglikult nimetada ka «Parsifali» ettevalmistamiseks.
«Parsifalis» puudub Wagneri kaasaegsete heliloojate ooperitele omane must-valge ülesehitus, kus hea on ilus ja kuri kole ning tekst üldjuhul teisejärguline. Müsteeriumis puuduvad ka aariad, Wagneri muusikaline deklamatsioon on vaheldusrikas ja lähtub teksti nüanssidest, tuues esile olulisi fraase ja sõnu.
Noblessneri valukoda oli kui kohtuhoone
Ooperi filosoofiline tekst ja sugestiivne muusika annavad interpreetidele lõputu võimaluse tõlgenda teost kas või päevapoliitilisest olukorrast lähtudes. Wagneri tekstis leidub paganlikke, varakristlikke, budistlikke elemente, samas ei maini ta kordagi ei Jumalat ega Kristust (kuigi paljud eelistavad näha selles kristlikku teost).
Meie rahvusooperi ettevõtmist tuua Eestis esmakordselt lavale ooperimaailma üks nõudlikumaid teoseid saab vaid tervitada. Esinemispaigaks valitud Noblessneri valukoda sobis selleks kui valatult – antiikset kohtuhoonet või varakristlikku pühakoda meenutav interjöör ja suurepärane akustika on kui loodud Wagneri teoste esitamiseks.
Lavastaja Nicola Raab oli oskuslikult ära kasutanud ruumi jõulist tööstusarhitektuuri, lavastusse oli kaasatud nii ülemise korruse galerii kui ka lava tagaseinas asuvad aknad ja uks. Kolmest vaatusest võiks lavastuslikumalt kõige õnnestunumaks lugeda teist, kus lava ülemine pool tõsteti üles, alumisel poolel toimus tegevus, millele andis dramaatilist sügavust punane valgus.
Esimeses ja kolmandas vaatuses domineeris peamiselt hall värv, mille staatilisust ja süngust rõhutas omakorda koori zombilik liikumine. Kindlasti oleks siia saanud värvide ja valguse mängu lisamisega juurde tuua dünaamikat. Veidi klišeelikult ja liiga otsese vihjena Kristusele mõjus teises vaatuses Amfortase kandmine rüütlite kätel. Pisut häiris solistide teksti ja tegevuse kohatine vastuolu.
Üldiselt oli lavastus väljapeetud ja tseremoniaalne, Wagneri kaasatundmise ja kaasakannatamise idee oli tõlgendamisvõimalusteks avatud. Läägevõitu maitsevääratusena ja kahjuks just ooperi lõpus saabus lavale poisike, kes asus võlulilleaeda kastma.
Püha Graal, mille ümber tegvus toimub, jäigi abstraktseks – kas see on karikas Kristuse verega, tarkade kivi või hoopis midagi kolmandat, jääb igaühe enese välja mõelda.
Lavastuse tugevaim pool oli muusika
Lavastuse tugevamaks pooleks saab lugeda etenduse muusikat – dirigendid Arvo Volmer ja Risto Joost olid teinud koos Estonia laiendatud orkestriga tubli töö. Iga vaatuse kulminatsioon oli paigas, puhkpillide soolod mõjusad. Norida võiks viiuliühma kallal, kes nt teise vaatuse sissejuhatuse kiiretes käikudes ei jõudnud tempot hoida, mistõttu kannatas muusika dramaatiline teravus.
Estonia koor (koormeistrid Risto Joost, Peeter Perens), samuti laiendatud koosseisus, tegi igati täpse ja veenva etteaste nagu ka poistekoor (dirigendid Hirvo Surva, Andres Lemba, Maarja Soone), kelle laul ülemiselt galeriilt avaldas maagilist mõju.
25. augustil toimunud etenduses osalesid rahvusvaheliselt tunnustatud solistid välismaalt, kellel kõigil on vähem või rohkem kogemusi Wagneri loomingu esitamisega.
Klingsorina oli veenev Viini Volksoperi bariton Martin Winkler,. Austriast pärit bass Manfred Hemm on Gurnemanzi osa laulnud paljudes maailma ooperiteatrites. Amfortase osas astus üles sakslane, bass Eike Wilm Schulte, kelle repertuaaris on palju Wagneri kangelasi. Kolmandas vaatuses, kui Amfortas on haavatud ja nõrk, oleks oodanud Schultelt mitte nii jõulist, vaid varjundirikkamat ja fraseeritumat esitust. Peategelase Parsifalina tegi võimsa osatäitmise USA tenor Richard Decker, kel on samuti palju Wagneri rolle.
Kundry on tänu oma kahestunud isiksusele ooperis üks huvitavamaid tegelasi, seda osa laulis võimsalt ja nüanseeritult Irmgard Vilsmaier Saksamaalt. Tema madalad registrid olid eriti mõjusad.
Eriti tahaks esile tuua meie meest Soome Rahvusooperis, Titureli osa laulnud Koit Soaseppa, kelle sügav bass sobitus oivaliselt rahvusvahelise tasemega ansamblisse.
Ei taha nõustuda meil levinud arusaamaga, et ooperist, eriti Wagneri loomingust, on raske aru saada. Kes vähegi kaasa viitsib mõelda ja on võtnud vaevaks sisukokkuvõtte läbi lugeda, sellel on «oht» saada emotsionaalne laeng, mis võib vaataja arusaamist elust, lunastusest, heast ja kurjast muuta.
Wagner on Estonian Stage
The Foundry was a perfect match.
Toomas Zupping
music enthusiast
REVIEW
Richard Wagner’s mystery Parsifal on 25 August 2011 in Noblessner Foundry. Musical director and conductor Arvo Volmer, the orchestra, choir and boys’ choir of the Estonian National Opera, stage directors Nicola Raab (Germany) and Ran Arthur Braun (Israel), designer Robert Innes Hopkins (UK), lighting designer David Cunningham (Scotland).
Richard Wagner holds a completely unique place in the worlds’ opera literature; his works have always sparked sharp controversy. Wagner’s oeuvre has been arbitrarily employed for the purposes of Nazi ideology, there have been calls to ban it and even demolish his opera house. Today, Wagner’s works are included in the repertoire of every respectable opera house.
Wagner’s intellectual testament Parsifal is one of the most powerful operas; the composer himself described it as a mystery play. The piece took nearly forty years to create, and several of his earlier operas can be called preparatory work for Parsifal.
Parsifal lacks the black-and-white structure typical of the operas written by Wagner’s contemporary composers, where the good are beautiful and the evil are ugly and the text is usually of secondary importance. The mystery play also lacks arias. Wagner’s musical declamation is varied and follows the nuances of the text, highlighting key phrases and words.
Noblessner Foundry as a courthouse
The philosophical text and suggestive music of the opera give interpreters endless opportunities to interpret the piece even on the basis of the current political situation. Wagner’s text includes pagan, early Christian and Buddhist elements, but at the same time he never mentions God or Jesus Christ (even though many prefer to see it as a Christian work).
The fact that our National Opera has decided to stage one of the most demanding pieces of the opera world in Estonia for the first time can only be welcomed. The chosen venue, Noblessner Foundry, was a perfect location for the opera – it is as if the interior, reminiscent of an ancient courthouse or an early Christian sanctuary, was designed for performing Wagner’s works.
Stage director Nicola Raab has skilfully taken advantage of the powerful industrial architecture of the room – the production involved the upper-floor gallery as well as the windows and door in the back wall of the stage. Production-wise, the second of the three acts can be considered the most successful: the upper stage was lifted and action took place on the lower half, which was given dramatic depth by red lights.
The first and third acts were mostly dominated by grey, whose stagnancy and dreariness were in turn emphasised by the zombie-like movement of the choir. A play of colours and light would certainly have added more movement here. Amfortas’s body being carried by knights in the second act was perhaps a bit of a cliché and too much of a direct reference to Christ. Contradictions between the text and the actions of soloists were at times slightly distracting.
Generally, the production was dignified and ceremonious. Wagner’s idea of compassion and empathy had been opened up for possible interpretations. A boy watering the enchanted flower garden appeared, unfortunately towards the end of the opera, as a sentimental violation of good taste.
The Holy Grail, the centre of the plot, remained abstract – it is up to the viewers to figure out if it is a chalice filled with the blood of Christ, a philosopher’s stone or something else altogether.
Music was the strongest part of the production
The show’s music can be considered the strongest aspect of the production – conductors Arvo Volmer and Risto Joost together with the extended orchestra of the Estonian National Opera had done an excellent job. The culmination of each act was well-executed, wind instrument solos were impressive. If one were to nitpick, it would have to be said that the violinists were unable to keep up with the fast-paced parts of the opening of the second act, for instance, thereby harming the dramatic edge of the music.
The choir of the Estonian National Opera (chorus masters Risto Joost, Peeter Perens), also in its extended line-up, performed in a precise and convincing manner, as did the boys’ choir (conductors Hirvo Surva, Andres Lemba, Maarja Soone), whose singing, sounding from the upper gallery, had a magical effect.
The performance on 25 August involved internationally recognised soloists from abroad, who are all more or less experienced in performing Wagner’s music.
Baritone Martin Winkler from Vienna Volksoper was convincing as Klingsor, while bass Manfred Hemm from Austria has sung the part of Gurnemanz in several opera theatres around the world. Bass Eike Wilm Schulte, a German whose repertoire includes many Wagner heroes, played the part of Amfortas. In the third act, where Amfortas is wounded and weak, I would have expected a less vigorous, but a stylistically more nuanced and phrased performance from Schulte. US tenor Richard Decker, who has also played many Wagner roles, gave a powerful performance as the title character Parsifal.
Thanks to her split personality, Kundry is one of the most interesting characters in the opera, sung powerfully and with a richness of nuance by Irmgard Vilsmaier from Germany. Her low registers had an especially great impact.
In particular, I would like to draw attention to our man in the Finnish National Opera, Koit Soasepp, who sung the part of Titurel. His deep bass fit in perfectly with the high-level international cast.
I cannot agree with the idea prevalent in Estonia that an opera, especially one by Wagner, is difficult to understand. The viewers who can be bothered to think along and read the plot summary beforehand, “risk” an emotional charge that may change their understanding of life, redemption, good and evil.
Parsifal avas Tallinnas Wagneri ajastu
Ruth Alaküla, Andres Laasik / Eesti Päevaleht
27.08.2011
Vanasse valukotta toodud ooper tundub veidi ülelavastatuna, aga seab edaspidiseks kõrge lati.
Vaevalt mõtlesid allveelaevatehasele valubetoonist kaarjat lage kujundanud ehitajad ruumi heli levimise parameetrite peale, kuid juhuse tahtel sai Noblessneri valukoda akustika, mis kõlbab ruumi suhtes nõudlikema, Wagneri muusika ettekandmiseks. Neljapäevane „Parsifali” esietendus tõestas, et meil on Tallinnas olemas oma Wagneri malli Festspielhaus, kus annab teha muinaskangelaste suurejoonilisi vaatemänge nende muusika täiuslikus ilus.
Uus ruum tõi uue kvaliteedi ja Noblessneri valukojas polnud Estonia orkester enam see endine orkester ja koor endine koor. Betoonvõlvide alla kogunenud helides sai kogeda teistsugust musitseerimist, ülevat ja uhket. Vaskpillide massiivsed helimüürid ei varjutanud keelpillide kurblikke helimaastikke. „Parsifal” valmis küll suuresti projekti korras, kuid teatri arengus on tegu etapilise töövõiduga, mida orkestri eneseületamine on.
Projekti sisseostetud staarid olid teine kvaliteedi tagatis, mis Wagneri suurteose igati nauditavaks tegid. Esietendusel välja käidud ameeriklasest nimiosatäitja Richard Decker esindas just seda kangelase mõõtu tenorit, mida Wagneri teos vajab. Lavastuses pole Parsifalil kordagi mõõka käes, finaalis vibutab ta veidi odaga, kuid tämbri ja häälejõu poolest on Decker igati rüütli mõõtu mees, olgugi et teose algusotsas tuleb Parsifalil ka ohmuna käitumist ette.
Elustatud algus
Mõne aasta tagusest „Tristani ja Isolde” lavastusest Isoldena meie publikule tuttavaks saanud Irmgard Vilsmaier oli võrratu Kundry, kelle wagnerlikult ekspressiivne laul tuli kergelt ja loomulikult. Teise vaatuse pikka stseeni Parsifaliga tõi Kundry eheda dramatismi. Tegemist oli lavastuse vaieldamatu kõrghetkega.
Manfred Hemmi kaunikõlaline bass andis Gurnemanzi kujule suursugususe. Hemm laulis selgelt ja võluvalt esimese vaatuse pikki eellugusid, kuid päriselt ei suutnud ta päästa „Parsifali” esimest vaatust vähese dramatismi hädast, nii et lavastuse algusots tuli tuimavõitu. Ent see pole sugugi eriline puudus, nii juhtub Wagneri teose ülesehituse tõttu.
Mis puutub lavastuse üldisemate kujunditesse, siis siin kipub sakslanna Nicola Raab noore lavastaja kombel üle mõtlema ja kohati tundub tema juhendamisel lavale seatud rida huvitav, kohati jälle jäävad otsad õhku rippuma. Ka britt Robert Innes Hopkinsi üldiselt õnnestunud lavakujundus sisaldab küsitavusi. Lavakujunduse faktuur ei varja sugugi, et tegu on tsingitud ventilatsioonitorudega, mis peaks halba õhku ära juhtima. Kas see on vihje sellele, et Graali otsivatel ristisõdijatel oli ennast kasivate araablaste meelest probleeme isikliku hügieeniga?
Mingi kontseptuaalne konks on selleski, et kolmandas vaatuses on torudest alles vaid rusud ja apokalüptilises maailmas hoiab rohelust Gurnemanzi kilekasvuhooneke. Aga see näpust väljaimetud kujund on siiski liigutav ja toimiv, kuna sobib tegelaste vaevalise liikumisjoonise ja Wagneri mõtliku aeglase muusikaga kolmanda vaatuse esimeses pooles.
Üldiselt toimib avaralt vormistatud lava koostöös hästi seatud valgusega dramaatiliselt pingestavalt. Samal ajal tuleb tunnistada, et kulukas tehnoloogiline pingutus tõusva teise vaatuse tasapinnaga pole vastavuses kunstilise tulemusega. Tõusva tasapinna krigin, mis ei joonistunud lavastuse helipartituuri, oli seejuures ilmselge miinus.
Tegevuse rõhuasetused finaalis, kus süü käes piinlev kuningas Amfortas lunastust otsib, lasevad sündmustel toimuda väga praktiliselt, uus tulija Parsifal kõrvaldab vana võimu. Tulemus on ootamatult meditsiiniline ja tõstatab eutanaasiaprobleeme. Ehk siis Graali ja püha oda suurus on vaieldamatu, aga võimu ei tohi ka ripakile jätta.
Hea on Wagneri suurlavastuse puhul seegi, et estoonlasi jagus kõrvalrollidesse, nii et need enamasti jõukohaseks ja arendavaks osutusid. Rääkimata koorist, mis sai huvitavat tööd nii hääle kui ka lavalise liikumise vallas. Olgu projektitööna sündinud „Parsifal” pealegi ühekordne pingutus, sellest tööst jäi siia maha mõndagi, mis võib tulevikus kasuks tulla.
Parsifal ushered in Wagner’s era in Tallinn
Ruth Alaküla, Andres Laasik / Eesti Päevaleht
27.08.2011
The opera brought into the old foundry seems a little over-staged, but sets the bar high for the future.
It’s doubtful that the construction workers building the submarine factory thought about the parameters of sound spread in the room when building the arched ceiling from cast concrete. However, by chance, the Noblessner Foundry’s acoustics turned out to be good enough to perform pieces of more demanding music, like Wagner’s. The premiere of Parsifal on Thursday proved that we have our very own Wagner’s Festspielhaus, where grandiose spectacles by historic legends can be played in the perfect beauty of their music.
The new room brought new quality, and in the Noblessner Foundry the Estonian National Opera Orchestra isn’t the same orchestra and the chorus the same chorus anymore. Different kind of music – grand and proud – could be experienced under the concrete vaults. The massive sound walls of brass instruments did not cast a shadow over the sad sound-scenery of string instruments. Although Parsifal was mainly created as a project, it is actually a triumph in this phase of the theatre’s development, which is what we may call the orchestra’s outdoing itself.
The stars purchased to participate in the project, were another guarantee for the quality that made Wagner’s masterpiece enjoyable in every way. Richard Decker, an American, put into play for the premiere, represented the exact kind of heroic tenor, which a Wagner’s opus needs. Decker does not hold a sword even once during the play, he swings a spear in the finale for a while, but the power of his voice and timbre muster up a hero in every way, disregarding the fact that in the beginning of the play, Parsifal occasionally behaves like a fool.
A revived beginning
Irmgard Vilsmaier, who became known to us as Isolde from Tristan und Isolde some years ago, played the role of the exceptional Kundry, to whom the expressive, Wagner-like song came easily and naturally. Kundry introduced true drama into the long, second act with Parsifal, which was the undisputed highlight of the play.
Manfred Hemm’s beautifully sounding bass gave Gurnemanz’s character grandiosity. Although Hemm’s singing in the long prequels of the first act was clear and charming, he couldn’t salvage Parsifal’s first act from the lack of drama, thus the beginning of the play was slightly dull. This, however, isn’t a major issue, since it results from the structure of Wagner’s piece.
What concerns the overall shape of the play, then Nicola Raab – being a young stage director – tends to over-think and her arrangement onstage can sometimes be interesting or on the contrary – have loose ends. The scenic design by the Brit, Robert Innes Hopkins, who generally succeeded in his design, is also questionable. The style of the scenic design does not try to hide the galvanized ventilation pipes that are supposed to eliminate bad air. Is that an implication that the groomed Arabs thought that the crusaders looking for the Holy Grail had problems with hygiene?
There’s some sort of conceptual twist in the fact that by the third act, only wrecks remain of the pipes and Gurnemanz’s plastic greenhouse keeps the apocalyptic world green, as well. But that contrived figure is still very moving and works, since it fits the slow movement plan and Wagner’s slow, thoughtful music in the first half of the third act.
In general, the wide stage area works well with well-placed lighting, creating a dramatic tension. At the same time, it must be admitted that the expensive technological solution for the rising floor level in the second act doesn’t correspond to the artistic result. The creaking of the rising floor, that didn’t melt in with the play’s musical score, was obviously a negative aspect.
The focus on activities in the final, where king Amfortas, writhing in guilt, is looking for redemption, lets the events happen very practically – the newcomer Parsifal eliminates the old authority. The result is unexpectedly medical and raises problems about euthanasia, meaning the size of the Holy Grail and spear is unquestionable, but power shouldn’t be left dangling around.
Another good thing about Wagner’s masterpiece being played, were the Estonian Theatre members in the supporting roles, so that they were executable and developing. The choir also got some interesting work in voice and stagy movement areas. Let Parsifal be a one-time project effort, but it still left behind a lot that could be useful in the future.
«Parsifal» – noormehest sirgub lunastaja
Alvar Loog / Postimees
29.08.2011
Richard Wagneri «Parsifal» (1882), mis räägib üleisikulisest võitlusest Valguse ja Pimeduse jõudude vahel, on geneetiliselt Piibli ja keldi mütoloogia sohilaps, «Sõrmuste isanda», «Star Warsi» ja «Harry Potteri» vanem vend. Ainult selle vahega, et kristliku pühakirja dramaturgilisest derivaadist ja esteetilisest representatsioonist on «Parsifali» – nagu laiemalt peaaegu kogu Wagneri kunstikreedo – puhul saanud omaette kultusobjekt või otsapidi koguni uus konfessioon, millel omad rituaalid ja dogmad ning jüngrite-apostlite silmis vaidlustamatu sisemine tõde.
Kogu Nõukogude aja hoidis eestlasi sellest eemal valitsev poliitiline ideoloogia, viimased paarkümmend aastat omaenese majanduslik ja artistlik suutmatus. Õiget saali Wagneri muusikadraamade esitamiseks pole meil samuti. Juhuse läbi kunsti teenistusse sattunud Noblessneri valukoda Koplis, kus «Parsifal» esimest korda Eestis neljapäeval ettekandele tuli, sobib selleks ootamatult hästi.
Raskepärane ja sügav
«Parsifal» on totaalne kunstiteos – siin leiab aset esteetika täielik üheks saamine eetikaga; selle ooperiga kohtumine ei peaks auditooriumi jaoks olema mitte üksnes esteetiline, vaid ka kvaasireligioosne kogemus: vaimne valgustumine ja hingeline puhastumine koos taastatud metafüüsilise lunastuslootusega.
Wagneri kunstilises käekirjas on omajagu kõrkust, peaaegu kõik tema muusikadraamad eitavad ja eiravad ühel või teisel moel ooperikunsti turutõdesid. Erandiks pole ka lohiseva libreto, aeglaste tempode, vähese dramatismi ning jäikade karakteritega omaenese simuleeritud sakraalsuse all lookas staatiline ja monotoonne «Parsifal», mille sisul igapäevase inimkogemuse ja empiirilise reaalsusega vähimatki pistmist ei ole.
Wagnerist on saanud maailma ooperiturul võimas bränd ning tema viimaseks jäänud muusikadraama, mil juures vormilise raskepärasuse ja sisulise sügavuse glamuur, on jätkuvalt üks tõsiseim kondiproov iga enesest lugupidava ooperimaja trupi ja publiku jaoks. Meil, eestlastel, oli see mäetipp veel vallutamata, ehkki kolme aasta eest Estonias esietendunud «Tristan ja Isolde» kuulub «Parsifaliga» samasse kaalukategooriasse.
Iseküsimus, kuidas sellist teost üldse lavastada. Sest «Parsifali» muusikalisele dramaturgiale on väga raske midagi visuaalses plaanis lisada; pealegi näib igasugune lavaline materiaalsus alati paratamatult madaldavat nii teose sisulist ideed kui ka tema autori üldesteetilisi ideaale. Üks võimalus oleks öelda lahti kogu kristlikust viiteaparatuurist ja leida religioossetele sümbolitele (Graal, oda, tuvi jt) ja sümboolsetele praktikatele (ristimine, armulaud) uued tähendused või koguni värsked materiaalsed avaldumisvormid.
Lavastaja Nicola Raab oli loobunud wagnerlikust kronotoobist (keskaeg ja võlulossid), ent samas kristliku sümboolika osa originaaliga võrreldes kohati võimendanud (maitsetuse ja mõttetuse piire kompav ristikannatuse kujund igas vaatuses jne). Kahel toolil istumine tõi kaasa väljendusjõuetut eklektikat kostüümikujunduses (eelmise sajandi keskpaigast pärinevad mantlid vs ristirüütli sõjarüü).
Suhteliselt lagedat lava (kunstnik Robert Innes Hopkins) kaunistanud hiigeltorud tähistasid – nagu lihtsad, ent ebaisikulised kujundid ikka – üheaegselt kõike (nt universumi masinaruumi) ja mittemidagit. Estonia hüplikus lavastuses polnud õiget ja muusikaga võrdväärset visuaalset telge ning seega ka raputavat välist monumentaalsust, v.a esituskoht ise.
Rõhutatult staatilise režiiga lavastus ärkas tasapinnalisema lavaruumi, artistliku esituse (Martin Winkler Klingsorina) ja jõulise valguskujunduse (David Cunningham) toel täielikult ellu üksnes teises vaatuses. Muul ajal jäi kogu vähene lavaline dünaamika koori kanda, kes sellega laulmise kõrvalt väga hästi hakkama sai.
Õllekõhuga lunastaja
Ainus vallatus ja ventiil selles püüdlikult pühalikus teoses oli püha Graali ja seda hoidva, ent mandumisohus vennaskonna semiootiline sidumine ventilatsioonitoru tükkidega. Nimikangelase infantiilne karakter nägi neljapäevasel esietendusel (Richard Decker) väliselt harjumuspärasest veelgi halekoomilisem välja: loll ja lontis õllekõhuga lunastaja. Oli see bioloogiline paratamatus, püüdlik autoritruudus või peen iroonia?
Õhtu suurim aplaus kuulus teenitult Estonia orkestrile (dirigent Arvo Volmer), kes Wagneri tiheda ja nüansirikka partituuri Noblessneri vana valukoja suurepärase akustikaga ruumis lummavalt elama pani. Esimese koosseisu solistide ansamblis polnud ühtegi nõrka lüli; asjaolu, et kõik selle liikmed olid imporditud, räägib aga valusat tõde kas meie rahvusooperi loominguliste juhtide otsustusjulguse või kodumaiste lauljate tegeliku taseme kohta. «Tristani ja Isolde» puhul saime igatahes peaaegu oma jõududega suurepäraselt hakkama.
Parsifal – a young man grows into a redeemer
Alvar Loog / Postimees
29.08.2011
Richard Wagner’s Parsifal (1882) talks about a supernatural battle between the forces of Lightness and Darkness. Genetically, it is a bastard between the Bible and Celtic mythology, and the older brother of The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and Harry Potter. The only difference is that the dramaturgical derivate of the Christian scripture and aesthetic representation that is Parsifal has become a cult object on its own – much like all of Wagner’s art – or even a new confession with its own rituals, dogmas and an undisputed inner truth among disciples and apostles.
During the Soviet era, Estonians were kept away from all this by the political ideology and over the past 20 years by our own economic and artistic inability. Nor do we have a proper hall for Wagner. The Noblessner Foundry, where Parsifal premiered last Thursday, was – by chance – surprisingly suited for it.
Heavy and deep
Parsifal is a complete masterpiece – the opera is a perfect marriage between aesthetics and ethics. For the audience, this opera shouldn’t just be an aesthetic, but also a quasi-religious experience: mental enlightenment and spiritual cleansing with a rejuvenated metaphysical hope for redemption.
There is quite a bit of arrogance in Wagner’s artistic handwriting. Almost all of his music dramas deny and depart from the common truths of opera. The static and monotonous Parsifal is no exception in this regard. Parsifal, bent under its own simulated sacrality, with its trailing libretto, slow tempos, little drama and stiff characters has nothing to do with everyday human experience and empiric reality.
Wagner has become a powerful brand in the opera world and his last piece, a music drama that has formal heaviness and the glamour of substantial depth, is still one of the toughest challenges for any self-respecting opera troupe and audience. We, Estonians, had yet to conquer that hill, even though Tristan und Isolde, which premiered at the Estonian National Opera 3 years ago, falls into the same category.
Another question is how one should even stage a composition like this, since it’s very difficult to add something to Parsifal’s musical dramaturgy in a visual plan. Besides, any kind of on-stage materiality always seems to degrade the substantial idea of the composition as well as its author’s general aesthetic ideals. One way would be to neglect all kind of Christian reference sets and find new meanings to religious symbols, such as the Holy Grail, spear, dove, etc and symbolic practices like christening and the Eucharist or even go as far as to find completely new material forms for expression.
The stage director Nicola Raab rejected the Wagner-like chronotope (Middle Ages and magic castles) but at the same time, amplified the Christian symbolic part, compared to the original. Examples include the lack of taste and dabbling with the idea of the suffering of the cross being nonsense in every act, etc. Sitting on two chairs brought expressionless eclecticism in the form of costume design, such as coats from the mid-1900s versus a crusader’s armour.
The fairly clear stage, designed by Robert Innes Hopkins, was decorated with huge pipes, which symbolized everything and nothing at the same time (for example, the machinery of the universe), like most simple, impersonal shapes always do. There was no proper and equivalent visual axis to the music and therefore no staggering outer monumentality apart from the venue itself, either.
The statically emphasized directing awoke only in the second act thanks to the support of a more levelled stage area, artistic presentation by Martin Winkler as Klingsor and powerful lighting design by David Cunningam. During the rest of the acts, that little on-stage dynamic was left to carry by the choir, who did a good job doing so while singing.
The redeemer with a beer belly
The only trick and valve in this painstakingly sacred piece was the semiotic binding of the Holy Grail and the brotherhood in danger of degeneration, who was holding the Grail, with the pieces of the ventilation pipe. The protagonist’s infantile character (Richard Decker) looked even more pathetically comic than usually – a dumb redeemer with a floppy beer belly. Was this a biological inevitability, a diligent attempt to stay truthful to the author or fine irony?
The biggest applause of the evening deservedly and undisputedly belonged to the Estonian National Opera Orchestra (conductor Arvo Volmer), who made Wagner’s dense and nuance-rich musical score sound fascinatingly alive in the Noblessner’s old foundry room with excellent acoustics. In the first cast of soloists, there were no weak links, however, the fact that all of them were imported, speaks a painful truth about either the lack of courage to decide by our creative managers or the actual level of our domestic singers. In the case of Tristan und Isolde, we did an excellent job on our own.
