Bayreuth IV - (ainda o) Lohengrin (de Neuenfels)

(Lohengrin, Bayreuth, 2010. Kaufmann, em primeiro plano - foto de cima - e demais elenco)

Nestas coisas de criticar encenações, todos ganhamos com o olhar ponderado, distante, sensível e avesso a preconceitos (e sobrancerias) dos americanos. Esta notável leitura da nova produção de Lohengrin de Bayreuth, cuja polémica mise-en-scène de Neuenfelts tem gerado tanto mal-estar, coloca a coisa no seu lugar: há incongruências múltiplas no trabalho do encenador, a par de uma indiscutível riqueza simbólica.

Há muito que Bayreuth se tornou num espaço de ousadia – por vezes decrépita. Recordar-se-á o leitor, ainda, do Parsifal de Herheim???

Quem procura consensos e encenações comme il faut, pode bem lambuzar-se com as poeirentas propostas de Zeffirelli!

Não sendo eu um fã de Mortier – tido com o derradeiro vanguardista -, partilho da ousadia que introduziu em Salzburgo. Agora é a vez de Bayreuth… pós W. Wagner!

«BAYREUTH, Germany — It has become practically a part of the tradition at the Bayreuth Festival for the director of an avant-garde Wagner production to be vociferously booed on opening night. So it was on July 25, when the festival opened with the new Hans Neuenfels production of “Lohengrin,” which I saw here on Tuesday, the second performance.

If regie-opera (productions driven by a director with an imposing agenda) has a ringleader, it is probably Mr. Neuenfels, especially notorious for a 2001 “Fledermaus” at the Salzburg Festival that turned this frothy, waltzing comedy into a festering exposé of kinky sex and proto-Nazism.

What is mostly inciting the ire over Mr. Neuenfels’s “Lohengrin,” with sets and costumes by Reinhard von der Thannen, is his depiction of the nobles and commoners of 10th-century Brabant as rats in a sterile modern-day laboratory. Only the main characters — the Christian knight Lohengrin, the fair lady Elsa, King Henry the Fowler of Germany, the conniving Count Friedrich von Telramund and his wife, Ortrud, who practices the occult — are presented as fully human and, consequently, superior.

The concept is laden with symbolism, and Mr. Neuenfels’s presence as a director-commentator pervaded every scene. Yet provocative and insightful ideas fire this intriguing staging. And, as always at Bayreuth, the production values are so high that every set, costume and prop looked great.

What mattered most, of course, was the overall, and exceptionally strong, musical performance. In his debut role at Bayreuth, the German tenor Jonas Kaufmann was a magnificent Lohengrin. He looked the part of an earnest, pensive and dazzling young knight, come to defend Elsa against falsehoods and marry her. The fast-rising 31-year-old Latvian conductor Andris Nelsons, the music director of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in England, also making his Bayreuth debut, drew a glowing, supple and richly detailed performance from the festival orchestra. During the prelude to Act I, the penetrating warmth of the soft strings in this acoustically miraculous house, designed by Wagner, was spellbinding.

In an interview for the program book Mr. Neuenfels says that Wagner’s music “thinks, and thinks grandly,” that this is music of “concepts.” The question is whether the music should be allowed to convey its concepts free of a director’s explicit ideological imagery.

During the prelude the house lights went up to reveal a white-walled room with metallic gates to the sides and a rear wall with eerie portals poking through. Mr. Kaufmann’s Lohengrin, his back to the audience, looking Christlike with his arms spread, put his shoulders to the task and slowly pushed the back wall into the rear of the stage: an effective and richly metaphorical touch.

But in the first scene, when King Henry, recruiting troops to fight the Hungarians in the east, calls an assembly of noblemen and the people of Brabant, the chorus appears dressed in gray, loose-fitting rat costumes, complete with long tails, floppy feet and see-through head masks, red eyes aglow.

We get it. The commoners and even the nobles are trapped in a society in which they have circumscribed roles to play and are used by the powerful. But could the same not be said of, say, Telramund, who is manipulated by his consort, Ortrud, or even, in a way, King Henry?

Elsa relates a dream she has had in which God sends a white knight to defend her. When that savior, Lohengrin, appears to rescue her from charges that she has murdered her noble brother, and a trial commences, the choristers remove their rat frocks for the duration of the scene. Men and women alike wear rich yellow suits and matching hats. So there are times when they are allowed to transcend their rat roles? I was not sure, though the choristers certainly looked wondrous in their striking yellow garments.

Still, fine music making drove this rich evening of Wagner. Mr. Kaufmann earned many fans at the Metropolitan Opera this spring with a one-two punch triumph: singing Cavaradossi in the new production of “Tosca” and Don José in the new production of “Carmen.” On Tuesday in Bayreuth he did not sound in his very best voice. Some pianissimo phrases were breathy, and he lacked a little of his trademark burnished power. Overall, though, he sang splendidly, with soaring phrases and earthy vocal colorings. His singing is an ideal balance of keen intelligence and vocal charisma.

When we first see the soprano Annette Dasch as Elsa, she is in a shining white coat pierced with arrows representing the false accusations that have been shot at her. Lohengrin plucks away the arrows. But Ms. Dasch conveyed Elsa’s wounded dignity so naturally that she did not need this lamely obvious metaphor. She was a touching Elsa who sang with warmth and pliant phrasing, but for a few strained high notes during some of the impassioned outbursts.

The soprano Evelyn Herlitzius brought hard-edged, sometimes wobbly vocal intensity to her vehement portrayal of Ortrud. The role need not be sung with such continuous ferocity. Still, Ms. Herlitzius was a maniacal force as Ortrud, and her top notes shook the house. The veteran Wagnerian baritone Hans-Joachim Ketelsen was a grave and fitful Telramund. The bass Georg Zeppenfeld as King Henry and the bass-baritone Samuel Youn as the Herald were excellent.

By Act III Mr. Neuenfels had worn down my resistance. As the citizens of Brabant sang the famous wedding march to Elsa and Lohengrin, the impressive Bayreuth choristers looked adorable lined up as rows of white rats, black rats and little pink kiddie rats, waving to the newlyweds, fidgety with excitement. Strange, I know. But oddly moving.

The production team did not take bows for this performance. The ovation for the cast, chorus and conductor went on for 20 minutes. This is the first Bayreuth festival presented under the new team of co-directors, Eva Wagner-Pasquier and Katharina Wagner, who are half-sisters and Richard Wagner’s great-granddaughters. Their father, Wolfgang Wagner, died at 90 this March after running the festival for more than 40 years. The new directors have announced their intention to make the festival less elitist and more approachable. It looks as if regie-opera, for better or worse, will continue to define productions here.»

Bayreuth II - O Lohengrin de Neuenfels

A nova produção de Lohengrin, de Neuenfels, parece conter inúmeros pontos de interesse, a começar pela simbologia rica e expressiva:

«À force de voir en Hans Neuenfels l'enfant terrible de la scène allemande depuis plus de trente ans, on a fini par ne voir en lui qu'un dynamiteur de pièces qui choque le bourgeois par ses provocations gratuites. C'est oublier qu'il est un très grand homme de théâtre, qu'il ne fait rien sans raison. Dimanche, lorsqu'il est venu saluer, seul, à la fin de la première de Lohengrin qui marquait ses débuts tardifs à Bayreuth, deux camps se sont nettement opposés:ceux qui, ayant l'impression qu'on avait mis des moustaches à la Joconde, ont hué violemment le metteur en scène, et ceux qui, ayant reconnu la force et (mais oui!) l'étonnante cohérence de cette production, ont crié «Hourra !».

Hans Neuenfels installe son Lohengrin dans un bloc blanc aseptisé (formidable décor de Reinhard von der Thannen). Les soldats brabançons? Des rats noirs géants. Leurs femmes? Des souris blanches. Sans aucun réalisme:stylisés comme des êtres hybrides, plus tout à fait animaux, pas encore humains. Toute l'intrigue est vue comme une expérience faite sur des créatures de laboratoires:Wagner n'est-il pas, après Shakespeare, celui qui a le mieux disséqué les comportements des hommes, presque en clinicien? La lumière (fabuleux éclairages de Franck Evin) est d'une clarté fulgurante, au point que, au deuxième acte, on voit même le chef d'orchestre, en reflet dans une paroi de verre:c'est la première fois sans doute dans l'histoire du Festival de Bayreuth, dont la fosse couverte cache les musiciens.

On rit souvent, désamorçage salutaire d'une tension palpable. Car Neuenfels ne ridiculise pas les personnages, il prend au sérieux le cercle vicieux dans lequel ils se débattent. Et pour quelques clins d'œil un peu potaches, combien d'images fortes comme Lohengrin brandissant la croix à la fin du deuxième acte, ou seul sur le plateau dépouillé, surmonté d'un point d'interrogation, à la fin du troisième. Tout est signifiant:les gestes, les couleurs (belle symphonie de noir et de blanc), et l'on s'éloigne finalement très peu de la lettre de l'intrigue. Même le cygne est là, et bien là, décliné sous des formes innombrables, jusqu'à cette troublante image finale d'un œuf donnant naissance à un fœtus humain coupant son cordon, sans que l'on puisse dire avec certitude qu'il annonce une fin heureuse à cet opéra si tragique.»

«Neuenfels es un hombre de teatro muy experimentado y cuenta con un equipo de primera línea del que son parte fundamental el escenógrafo y figurinista Reinhard von der Thannen y el dramaturgo Henry Arnold. Las imágenes plásticas con las que cuenta la ópera son muy impactantes y el sentido teatral, impecable. Vaya por delante este reconocimiento a la profesionalidad teatral. El primer paso de Neuenfels y los suyos consiste en transformar la leyenda en un cuento lleno de alegorías y salpicado con un sentido del humor muy incisivo. La evolución de la especie humana está presente en los juegos narrativos y así el coro puede ser, en momentos, de ratas, bien como una ironía burlona en el tratamiento de la boda, bien como un reflejo del miedo y la inseguridad al que responden muchos colectivos de nuestro tiempo. Nada en cualquier caso es gratuito. La componente analítica deriva en una terapia.

Las utopías se muestran irrealizables pero hay al menos un mensaje de esperanza en la ópera que el propio Wagner consideraba la más triste de las suyas. Es un montaje que desde su apariencia a veces kitsch invita a pensar sobre la condición humana y sus enigmas. No es un cuento de hadas, desde luego, pero sí es un cuento ideológico o, si se prefiere, filosófico. Muy alemán, con una componente fantástica muy original y con un casi inverosímil sentido del humor.»

E quanto a intérpretes, previsivelmente, o colossal Kaufmann levou a melhor, triunfando num papel que, doravante, É SEU! A seu lado, também o promissor jovem maestro Andris Nelsons suscitou aclamações.

«El triunfador de la noche fue el tenor Jonas Kaufmann. Su actuación fue de principio a fin soberbia, con un fraseo admirable y un fabuloso dominio de las medias voces. Extraordinario asimismo Georg Zeppenfeld como el Rey, correcta Annette Dasch como Elsa y un poco justa de expresión dramática Evelyn Herlitzius como Ortrud. Magnífico el trabajo al frente de la orquesta de Andris Nelson, un director que está lanzado. Las enseñanzas de Mariss Jansons y su trabajo al frente de la Ópera de Letonia y de la orquesta de Birmingham han dado sus frutos. Una vez más estuvo sensacional el Coro de Bayreuth preparado por Eberhard Friedrich. En expresión, en matices y en línea de canto.»

«Plus jeune chef de l'histoire de Bayreuth, Andris Nelsons nous a, une fois de plus, estomaqué. À 31 ans, le chef letton réalise des prodiges de vigueur dramatique et de finesse poétique, faisant sonner les cordes de l'Orchestre du Festival avec une transparence rare. Une impressionnante présence physique et un incroyable sens des atmosphères font de lui une baguette hors norme. Hors norme aussi, Jonas Kaufmann et son Lohengrin d'anthologie:ténébreux et solitaire, il est d'une présence absolue. Les couleurs de cuivre patiné qu'emprunte son timbre voilé dans la demi-teinte sont magiques. À côté de cette lumière noire, les autres palissent quelque peu, notamment l'Elsa mièvre et trop légère d'Annette Dasch, à l'intonation paresseuse. Ortrud saisissante mais trop criarde d'Evelyn Herlitzius, Telramund râpeux de Hans Joachim Ketelsen. Le Chœur est tout simplement le plus beau du monde. Cela devient presque lassant de le répéter chaque année! Une première passionnante, en présence d'Angela Merkel, mélomane qui était fidèle à Bayreuth bien avant d'être chancelière, mais aussi de Roselyne Bachelot et Renaud Donnedieu de Vabre.»