Experience: Opening Night at the New York Metropolitan Opera "Das Rheingold"
At the request of my favorite follower, this week I will essay my experience at the opening night of the Opera, Das Rheingold, Monday, September 27, 2010.
Das Rheingold - 1869, by Richard Wagner, is the first of four operas that constitute Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring Cycle). The archetypal Nordic plot is summarized: 1) Alberich, a Nibelung dwarf, lusts for the Rhine-maidens, water nymphs who guard the Rheingold. They mock and reject the deformed Alberich. In a fury, he takes revenge by forswearing love, stealing the Rheingold and making a golden ring which gives him the power to rule the world. 2) Returning to Nibelheim, Alberich uses his power to enslave and terrorize his fellow gnomes, forcing them to increase his hoard of gold. 3) In the land of the gods, Wotan has bartered his beautiful sister-in-law, Freia, against her will, as payment to the Giants for constructing his castle. The god Loge convinces the Giants to accept the Rheingold as a substitute payment for Freia. Loge and Wotan travel to the Nibelung underground and cleverly steal the Rheingold, the ring and a magic helmet from Alberich. Alberich curses the ring until it returns to him -- “May its magic bring death to whoever wears it.” 4) The Giants accept the treasures and return Freia. They promptly quarrel and one of them, Fasolt, is killed leaving the other Giant, Fafner, in sole possession of the Rheingold, the ring and the magic helmet. Wotan leads the Gods across the rainbow bridge to their new home in Valhalla. All follow except Loge who proclaims that “They hasten to their end”.
Gray skies over Manhattan and a steady drizzle couldn't restrain placement of the red carpet, press stations and outdoor overflow seating for the September 27, 2010 opening night of Das Rheingold at the New York Metropolitan Opera. This production was heavily promoted (for opera) and is claimed to be the most expensive ever at the Met, featuring a $16 million, 45 ton, high tech mechanical and digital multimedia system to allow dynamic setting displays for all four Ring Cycle operas.
For the price of good seats to a Yankees' playoff game, my wife and I scalped e-tickets and made the pilgrimage to Lincoln Center. We arrived there unfashionably early. Approaching from across the Josie Robertson Plaza, framed against the dull afternoon light, the “Met” facade appeared rectangular, cold and modernistic; a 1960’s throwback. Among a handful of other patrons, we headed to the south edge of the plaza, the soggy red carpet promenade. Befitting our obscure status, not a photoflash or microphone was proffered us. (Later, I learned that several formerly popular actresses and actors, as well as critics, artistes and even Wagner's great granddaughter followed our path and received appropriate adulation.)
Moving past the ticket takers, our mood elevated as we entered the brightly lit lobby of the Metropolitan Opera House; the curving, multistoried Grand Staircase bordered with Italian marble; the stellate Viennese crystal chandeliers; the thirty foot long colorful Chagall murals; the champagne stations and the photographers mingling among the growing crowd. Especially entrancing were the people themselves. Nearly all the men were in black tie and the ladies in varied and beautiful evening gowns. My wife and I found a vantage point and watched the stream of humanity moving through the entrance, up the Grand Stairway, and around the tiered levels of the lobby.
After a while, we dislodged ourselves from our niche and circulated. Everyone smiled. Everyone was courteous. We declined the Champagne, anticipating a long night, and the savvy photographers continued to ignore us. We observed the gowns, jewelry and hairstyles. We perused the memorabilia collections scattered about the alcoves; exquisite gold cigarette cases, ancient personal notes, ornate oriental fans and phenomenal antique costumes. As the auditorium doors opened, I overheard a man's daughter giving him practical advice, "Remember to use the bathroom -- it’s a two and a half-hour performance without an intermission."
Forewarned, we headed to our Grand Tier level box. We arranged our chairs to best see the stage and the cantilevered “Met title” libretto displays. Our box, although near enough, presented a partially obstructed view of the stage. Our armless seats were uncomfortable. But, we were perfectly positioned to view the entire majestic auditorium and any potential sideshows. Slowly, the audience, nearly four thousand gowned women and tuxedo clad men, settled in their places. The conductor, Maestro James Levine, was greeted with an emotional standing ovation and promptly led the orchestra and audience in "The Star-Spangled Banner". The lights dimmed, the chandeliers rose and the low E-flat prelude of Das Rheingold began.
Any problems with our seating were more than compensated for by the superb performance of Richard Wagner’s musical score and libretto. I applaud Robert LePage’s production. The outstanding orchestra was enhanced by the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium and conduction by Maestro Levine. The costumes and props were interesting and convincing. The lighting and acoustics were excellent. Projection of a dazzling, flaming orange glow upon Loge, the God of Fire, was a notable special effect.
The crowd, and later the critics, gave their greatest acclaim to mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe as Fricka, Wotan’s wife. My personal favorite vocal was the clear soprano voice of Wendy Bryn Harmer as Freia. (I always favor the Sopranos -- it’s the main reason I like Opera.) My other standouts (defined by what stirred my emotions and raised hair on my forearms) include Eric Owens, who performed a superhuman bass-baritone rendition of the evil Alberich; Bryn Terfel, bass-baritone, a powerful Wotan; and Gerhard Siegel, tenor, delivering a soul-wrenching rendition of Mime, the enslaved pathetic brother of Alberich. Also, who could not love the politically incorrect, voluptuous Rhein-maidens?
Unfortunately, the setting "machine" was a disappointment – perhaps I expected too much, and certainly my view of the stage was limited. Some of its uses were effective, such as the fluid backdrop of the frolicking Rhine-maidens, and framing Wotan and Loge's mystical trip to the Nibelung underground. But often it was a mechanical, and occasionally noisy, distraction. In an act of Wagnerian retribution, the "machine" malfunctioned at the very end of the performance and did not transform into the Rainbow Bridge. The actors meandered off, stage right, leaving me, and I think the rest of the audience, temporarily underwhelmed.
As we exited onto the plaza, the rain had stopped and the evening air was warm and still. We looked backward -- the formerly drab Met seemed to glow like the Rheingold against the dark night sky. The giant projection screen over the Met entrance was still showing close-ups of the curtain calls to enthusiastic applause. Hundreds of rain-slicker toting outdoor viewers remained on and around the plaza, spellbound. Somehow, we even scored a cab in time to make the 10:50 train from Penn Station to Albany.
Will Durant in his 1935 The Story of Civilization, observed that culture shapes and defines people. He notes, “The Englishman does not make British civilization, it makes him; if he carries it with him wherever he goes, and dresses for dinner in Timbuktu, it is not that he is creating his civilization there anew, but that he acknowledges even there its mastery over his soul.”
The Yankees will have to perform very well to match this operatic Triumph. Even the exciting October 15th, six to five, eighth inning Friday night victory over the Texas Rangers doesn’t quite compare.

