And they were the most divine gods: Das Rheingold at the Bayerische Staatsoper

Europe's most important opera houses – from London, Paris and Brussels to Milan – are currently forging new productions of Richard Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen. However, no premiere of Rheingold has been as eagerly awaited by Wagnerians as the one at the venue of its world premiere, in Munich. This is because the Bayerische Staatsoper was able to engage the services of acclaimed director Tobias Kratzer for its new cycle.

His plea for tolerance in Tannhäuser has gone down in the history of the Bayreuth Festival as a cult production. And even with this Rheingold, Kratzer's concept for The Ring proves to be as coherent as it is ingenious: after many a production team has depicted the gods as humans, the Ring as ‘theatre within theatre’, as a critique of capitalism or even as a naturalistic fantasy epic on the opera stage, Kratzer's scenic interpretation sees the gods simply as what they are: pagan gods. Wotan is thus equated with Odin, Freia with Freya and Fricka with Frigga, etc.

The Gothic cathedral in which Kratzer sets his production seems to have lost all relevance in the contemporary society presented on the stage. Churchgoers have long since stopped flocking to Holy Mass. Only two corrupt priests – Fasolt and Fafner – guard the empty and dilapidated, yet once magnificent, ecclesiastical building. Religious history repeats itself and reverses itself in equal measure. Just as Christianity and the monotheism associated with it replaced the pagan gods thousands of years ago, the pagan gods – who have never entirely gone, but have merely disappeared into invisible irrelevance in the meantime – will regain power in Kratzer's Ring cycle. Wotan uses the Rhinegold stolen from Alberich to indulge in his long lost and outdated religion in the premises of a cathedral that the priests (= giants) have freely sold and renovated. Catholicism, no longer relevant in this society, is replaced, the mythological father of the gods builds a new following and thus a new religious community.

In this production, Kratzer proves himself to be a master of the stage in the best sense of the word. He sees Rheingold not merely as a light-hearted conversation piece, as it is often staged elsewhere as a witty, cosy eve of a fairy tale. Kratzer uses vivid Personenregie, meticulously realised in facial expressions and gestures, to stage all the drama, the underlying conflicts and especially the violence and malice of the protagonists. Wotan's theft of the ring from Alberich, and the dwarf’s previous advances to the Rhinemaidens, are thus portrayed as a haunting drama of humiliation and abuse. The often innocently cheerful toad/snake transformation scene becomes a gripping psychogram of the abuse of power over Mime.

Vladimir Jurowski's conducting of Wagner in Munich was expected to be just as exciting as Kratzer's directorial work. The GMD of the Bayerische Staatsoper initially distanced himself from the works of the house god Richard Wagner, precisely in order to consciously set himself apart from his predecessor, Kirill Petrenko. In this series of premieres, Jurowski, like the director, proved himself to be a musical dramatist in the best sense of the word and orientated his fiery and impulsive musical interpretation closely to the scenic events. He repeatedly emphasised the rugged and the primal, even occasionally imperfect, aspects of the score. The Bayerische Staatsorchester produced a highly explosive, murderous musical drama from the pit – and not a feel-good Rheingold as a flowing conversation piece – a surprising, tense contrast to Kirill Petrenko's condensed, precise sound.

The major roles included some previously lesser-known Wagnerians. This made it all the more surprising to see the vocal and acting strength with which they all embodied their roles. In this production, everything revolved around Markus Brück's exposed and completely exhaustive Alberich. With a deep black vocal colour, clear articulation, captivating phrasing and a scenic portrayal that pushed his physical limits, he created a role portrait of the highest credibility. Nicholas Brownlee – only in his early 30s! – was his equal as Wotan. He has completely internalised the role, it seems to be ideally suited to his voice. Standing by his side, Sean Panikkar gave him an intellectual, cleverly calculating Loge. Ekaterina Gubanova's Fricka was strong in character and at times also sensual and sonorous.

In the final scene, the pagan gods smugly elevate themselves to the magnificent and imposing high altar, in the place where Christ, Mary or the saints are usually placed. The threatening accusation of the Rhinemaidens from the depths of this Gothic cathedral thus takes on a completely different truthfulness: “False and cowardly are those who rejoice up there.” Wotan and his clan's use of a Christian place of worship, which only attracts the crowds religiously for the moment but is at the same time presumptuous and desecrating, is clearly doomed to failure – not least because of the previous abuse of Freia and the humiliation of Alberich. The twilight of the gods is therefore inevitable and is already evident on the preliminary evening, Das Rheingold.

But just as the Rhinemaidens lament the theft of their gold, it is also lamentable for many a Wagnerian that he or she has to wait for over a year and a half until the continuation of the Kratzer Ring with the premiere of Die Walküre.

Translated from German by Mark Pullinger