In the birthplace of Wagner, Oper Leipzig programmed a must-see line-up of its productions of his early works for its Wagner-Festtage: Das Liebesverbot, Die Feen and Rienzi. Das Liebesverbot begins very strangely. The Italian style of the overture, with its staccato rhythms and giddy melodious momentum don’t fit with your expectations from this composer. Yet Aron Stiehl's production steadily grows on you. In Act I, everything quickly falls into place when Christian Hübner’s Brighella orders the conductor to stop playing for stage adjustments. A sign with “Leipzig Baustelle” (construction site) emerges from the pit. Breaking the ice, this moment received whole-hearted laughter from the audience. The production flies by, highly entertaining and musically engaging. With a vibrant but minimal set, Stiehl’s buffa interpretation highlights Wagner’s music and comedy.
Composed in 1834, Wagner adapted his libretto from Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure. In Act I, Claudio (Paul McNamara) is imprisoned for his licentiousness by Friedrich, the German overseer of Palermo while the king is away. His friend Luzio must ask Claudio’s sister, Isabella (who is about to enter a nunnery) to beg for his life during his trial. When Isabella recognises Friedrich as the husband who abandoned her convent sister Mariana, she pretends to seduce him and successfully exposes him in a scheme that unfolds in Act II. The opera ends happily, when Friedrich is forgiven and the king returns, reinstating Palermo’s free spirit.
Stiehl and set designer Jürgen Kirner had walls move back and forth to change the setting from a wild green jungle, to number-covered walls of the lawful world, to the pure white panels of the nunnery. Christian Schatz’ vibrant lighting enhanced the mood, whether different shades of blue during the more despairing arias, or red for fiery moments when desires were exclaimed.
With an extraordinary vocal richness and authentic warmth, Lydia Easley commanded the stage as Isabella and owned the production. Her dramatic flair and natural comedic timing led to consistent laughter.
Even without English surtitles, the comedy transcended language through stimulating slapstick and caricaturist facial expressions. In her duets with the Dan Karlström’s impressive Luzio she charmed with a genuine romantic tone, while later the furious spirit of her voice convinced in anger. She sounded devious as she concocted her scheme at the end of Act I. You did not want to mess with her. Her aria “Kennst du das Leidder Elternlosen” proved one of the many vocal highlights of the evening.