Zurich Opera’s new Intendant Matthias Schulz has begun his tenure with a bang, selecting a cornerstone of the German repertoire: Der Rosenkavalier, a work that embodies the Viennese spirit like no other. Springing from the collaboration of Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannsthal, the opera presents a profound and complex fusion of comedy and drama. This new production was entrusted to director Lydia Steier, who, after seeing a Rosenkavalier in Los Angeles years ago, was left enchanted by Gottfried Helnwein's set designs and dreamed of one day directing the opera herself.
Here, Helnwein employs colour as the central stylistic tool to shape and differentiate the three acts: dusty blue for the Marschallin's world in Act 1; gilded yellow for the Faninals' opulence; and debauched red for Baron Ochs' downfall. Each environment is consistently monochromatic, making the intrusion of contrasting colours particularly striking. It is almost jarring to see Ochs disrupt the blue idyll of the first act, clad head-to-toe in garish yellow. Similarly, he shatters the tame yellow of Sophie's home with a flaming red attire. The numerous secondary characters are dressed in fanciful, outlandish costumes, creating a splendid feast for the eyes that, over the opera's considerable length, can become somewhat aggressive and distracting.
Several directorial choices remain enigmatic. The Act 3 inn is portrayed as a brothel, with painters sketching nude models, Ochs – in lace underwear – being handcuffed and whipped by "Mariandl". This is an environment where the Feldmarschallin would scarcely be found. Furthermore, the omnipresence of skulls feels heavy-handed; the Marschallin fears aging, not death itself, making the skulls a rather simplistic symbol for her musings on time's passage. But despite these shortcomings, the production is ultimately successful, skilfully capturing the masterpiece's many facets: its fun, frolic, wistfulness and debauchery.
Strauss’ score is renowned as one of the most complex in the entire operatic repertoire, a work of immense colour and subtlety. Conducting the Zurich Opera Orchestra, Joana Mallwitz led an exciting reading, her greatest strength being the powerful drive with which she maintained a brisk pace and an intense atmosphere, all while keeping a firm grip on the intricate details. Given the Opernhaus' relatively intimate size, the orchestra's volume was at times overwhelming. Yet, Mallwitz’s support for the singers remained constant and attentive, and the lyrical passages emerged as a particular delight.
Diana Damrau brought her crystalline, splendid soprano to the role of the Marschallin, imbuing every phrase with meaning through her intelligent and poignant acting. She skilfully conveyed both the character's passion and her measured aristocratic elegance, rendering the Marschallin's musings on the passage of time genuinely moving. While a deeper, darker voice might be considered traditional for the part, Damrau's interpretation, combined with the sheer beauty of her instrument, proved irresistible.
In the title role of Octavian, Angela Brower showcased a beautiful, rich mezzo, delivering splendid high notes with youthful exuberance. She proved a credible young man, and her character's falling in love with Sophie was an enchanting process. In a successful directorial choice, Octavian presents the silver rose to Sophie with detached indifference, barely acknowledging her. His interest is not visual, but musical; it is only when Sophie sings the phrase “Wie himmlische, nicht irdische, wie Rosen” that he is captivated by her ravishing high notes. He turns to look, and from that moment, is irretrievably smitten.
Emily Pogorelc’s Sophie was ideally served by her high, silvery soprano. Her love duets with Brower were both charming and emotionally resonant. While her vocal focus wavered slightly in the third act, her contribution to the magnificent final trio was spot-on.
Baron Ochs is often portrayed with a degree of jovial boorishness, but director Steier presented a more merciless interpretation, exposing him as an abusive lecher, greedy and devoid of redeeming qualities. Gunther Groissböck, who has made this character into one of his signature roles, embraced this vision: he animated a despicable figure while still finding a way to make him humanly relatable (alas, we all see ourselves as the Marschallin, but often we are Ochs). His rich bass, however, was not always fully in command of the score, occasionally resorting to a speaking voice to navigate its most demanding passages.
As Faninal, Bo Skovhus was utterly convincing as the servile nouveau riche, palpably in awe of the old aristocracy. His smooth baritone, while occasionally lacking in projection, consistently expressed remarkable musicality. As required, Omar Kobiljak stopped the show with the Italian Tenor's aria, showing secure, powerful high notes and commendable legato. Nathan Haller and Irène Friedli provided perfect comic timing and energetic singing as the intriguers Valzacchi and Annina.