Few computer games are set in forests. They are more likely played in the post-apocalyptic ruins of what once were cities. This was where director George Schmiedleitner, together with designer Stefan Brandmayr, set Oper Nürnberg’s production of Siegfried. If the Valkyries thought the forest to the east a place to which Wotan would be afraid to go, this territory, where fugitives Mime and Fafner have sought refuge, is certainly a fearful place to which our generation can better relate. The sets fitted the context well.
There was a down-to-earth, in-your-face feel to this Siegfried that made the characters believable in their dysfunctional relationships. I could almost feel the tension from my seat. It was aided by some fantastic singing and playing: Peter Galliard (Mime) was outstanding – so expressive, masterful in his timing. He and Vincent Wolfsteiner (Siegfried), who began as a moody, heard-it-all-before teenager, got on each other’s nerves, were difficult to live with, yet magnificent in their confrontations and in their singing. The Wanderer (Antonio Yang), with red baseball cap two sizes too small, spectacles and a shopping cart, but an impressive, imposing presence, sang melodiously, effortlessly and authoritatively. He made himself at home in Mime’s untidy, fire-blackened hut, even soaking his feet in washing liquid as the Valhalla leitmotif soared in response to Mime’s third question, Mime’s voice portraying uncomfortableness in the Wanderer’s presence. A jar of ‘Nutella’ became a strange unifier – Siegfried and the Wanderer had a liking for it by the finger-full (in the genes, perhaps), and Mime spiked Siegfried’s potion in the Nutella jar. Forging Notung, Siegfried sung lustily, to end the act standing larger than life on the washing machine, brandishing his newly forged sword high above his head.
Act II was set on a collapsed highway, under which Fafner (Nicolai Karnolsky) abided, with battered Cyrillic signs reminding us that we were in ‘the East’. Marcus Bosch brilliantly guided the orchestra in underscoring the ominousness of the site, playing menacing sounds with remarkable feeling and much vibrating brass (even the theatre seats vibrated). Rich-bassed Alberich (Stefan Stoll) entered dramatically, tripping into the stage, contrasting with the casual, relaxed Wanderer, still dragging his shopping cart, who sat reading his paper, ignoring Alberich’s rantings, until, trapping the Wanderer’s hand under his foot, he urinated on him – consistent with the sort of people this Siegfried was portraying. All done, of course, to the most edifying of singing.
The bright Woodbird (Csilla Csövari), a sweet soprano, dressed in punk black, with shaven head, black make-up, vestiges of wings, crutches and holding balloons, mouthed words to the music until she got her chance to sing – and when she sung she was great. Siegfried had a double who played the horn to raise navy suited Fafner (Nicolai Karnolsky), with a rich, enhanced, bass voice, but no match of course for Siegfried’s sword, which produced much blood, then more blood from Mime, all running down the elevated highway.