For an hour and a half I was building with an anticipation so tense that it was painful, almost unbearable. I kept telling myself 'stop stressing, enjoy the opera'. We waited outside the Liceu for Plácido to arrive but I was also fretting about picking up my ticket from the Box Office*. Much as I would have liked to have seen Plácido beforehand, getting my ticket was more important.
Plenty of time to find my bearings around the opera house. Although the auditorium is traditional, the peripheral areas are modern, with plenty of room to circulate, and easy access and egress. Not enough Ladies loos would be my criticism. I was also a bit annoyed that they didn't sell plastic bottles of waters and I could not find out how long the intervals were. But I am sure if it was my regular house, I would work all that out quickly.
Looking closely at my ticket, I realised I was actually in the third row of a box in the Platea rather than the third row of the Platea as I had read off my email. Stupid me! I liked that access to the box was by entering the barcoded ticket into a reader, rather than having to rely on the sour-faced camera police such as at the Royal Albert Hall. I couldn't get my surtitle screen to work, first it said that English wasn't available, then the screen just went fuzzy. I didn't miss it; I am quite familiar with Die Walküre, and in any case I could see other people's screens well enough for when I needed a Catalan translation of the German text;-)
Feeling stressed for way too long, I opened my box door and heard some brass practising the Wotan leitmotif and suddenly all my stress dissipated. I arranged my stool to optimise my view of the stage. Announcements counted down the vanishing time until the start of the opera, then the three Act I principals walked onto stage to receive welcoming applause. With those three, you can be sure that the welcome was emphatic. And actually I was pleased I had not managed to see Plácido beforehand. Seeing him on stage had an air of mystique of him being a legend, rather than that very sweet and approachable man one sees outside opera houses. And with him were Waltraud Meier, whose presence in the cast just increased my desire to attend, and René Pape, whom I had never heard before.
The gentleman left the stage and Sieglinde sat down on one of the three chairs that constituted the 'set'. Act 1 began with that amazing storm music, then Siegmund entered the stage walking backwards. At which point I knew that it was going to more than just a 'concert' performance (admittedly, I had read so on the Barcelona blogs after Wednesday's performance).
Five and a quarter hours later I left the opera house regretting that the opera was so short. It is one of the shortest in the entire opera calendar.
I did not rate the conducting particularly highly. This was most noticeable in the First Act. I think the conductor was trying to bring out that it is essentially a Chamber Opera. In doing so he sacrificed the overall structure of the piece. Obviously, it is a matter of interpretation, but I do feel that the 'Walsë Walsë' signals a significant change in gear with a relentless momentum pushing onto the glorious climax. In this performance it often seemed ponderous, which was frustrating at times. Also, there were times that I felt it left the singers with longer phrases than was ideal. There were also bits where I noticed some scrappy playing but I can easily forgive that in such a long piece.
But the singers were so wonderful that they shone out above the so-so conducting. I felt sorely cheated that Hunding is such a short part. I am not really a bass admirer - I am one of those people who cannot distinguish properly between low notes and I rarely find a bass voice intrinsically beautiful. But I could tell why people rave so about René Pape. Perhaps less menacing than some I have seen or heard in the part but with exquisite phrasing and with none of the barking I often associate with basses.
If I adored Waltraud Meier before this evening, I love her even more now. I have only seen her live in this role (four times now) but I also have numerous recordings of her as Kundry and Isolde. I love her voice, I love her role interpretation, in fact I might even have a girly crush on her.
Oh, and Siegmund? My Plácido was...Plácido! What more can I say! In the first two scenes he was reserved and moderate, and gorgeous, then with the 'Walsë Walsë', he was dramatic and lyrical, and always beautiful. My favourite singer singing my favourite act of my favourite opera. What more can a girl want. I would have been perfectly satisfied if it was a conventional concert performance, stood behind music stands.
All three Act I singers used the stage and their bodies to act out the opera, absence of costumes and scenery not a loss, quite possibly a bonus. General praise for Waltraud and René who were excellent. And I have some wonderful memories of Plácido.
For example, as the Twins were initially attracted, there was something in his body language that was so erotic...then Hunding's hunting horn sounded. On his knees in his soliloquy (and I gazed through my binoculars on those gorgeous thighs). As the opening notes of Winterstürme twinkled, Siegmund and Sieglinde revelled in the falling invisible rose petals. And then when he seized invisible-Nothung. Totally gorgeous singing.
Wagner was a clever bugger, the way he wrote the closing of that act. there is something about it as it reaches its frenzied climax that makes one need to just scream with pleasure after the final note. And the audience did. Prolonged and wild applause, several curtain calls, and blinking out into the light, struggling to control one's emotions in the quotidian surroundings of Las Ramblas revving up for Saturday night.
* the card used to purchase it has changed since the purchase so I assumed it couldn't be used in the automatic machine; the box office opened one hour before the performance.
