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When Barrie Kosky’s new production of Wagner’s Ring opened in 2023 with Das Rheingold, the theme of ecological catastrophe was already abundantly clear. In the second instalment, Die Walkure, evidence of that catastrophe is ubiquitous. The huge horizontal, devastated fragment of the World Ash Tree seen in Rheingold returns here in Act 2, while the tree in Act 3 is hollowed out and shrivelled. The heroes gathered by the Valkyries in their infamous Ride have also been reduced to charred remains.
The naked octogenarian representing Erda, Mother Earth, returns (here played by the actress Illona Linthwaite) to witness with silent eloquence the despoliation of nature and the mutually assured destruction of the protagonists.
Rufus Didwiszus’s louring sets, lit strikingly by Alessandro Carletti to produce some stunning stage images, are sparse in the extreme. The ample meal devoured by Hunding (sung and acted with immense power by Soloman Howard) and a ravenous Siegmund is the most lavish thing to be seen in the ashen-grey hut of Act 1; the remaining acts likewise eschew extravagant detail.
The effect is to sharpen the focus on the interplay of the characters. It’s no exaggeration to say that every last toss of the head, every crumple of the knees has clearly been agonised over by Kosky and his singers, with revelatory results.
Sieglinde has long been seen as an extraordinarily acute depiction by Wagner of an abuse victim, but her long-lost twin brother Siegmund here also cowers convincingly in his hoodie, brutalised and terrified by a life on the run, before the discovery of love channels his inner hero. The choice of singers is significant. Stanislas de Barbeyrac’s wonderfully lyrical tenor, while not lacking heft when needed, makes for an exceptionally sympathetic Siegmund.
Natalya Romaniw’s voice, a notch or two less voluminous than that of Lisa Davidsen, whom she has replaced as Sieglinde, nevertheless delivers the goods admirably. Unfazed by dropping one of the fragments of Siegmund’s sword, her eulogy of Brünnhilde on learning that she bears the future hero Siegfried in her womb, was properly sublime.
Brünnhilde herself is sung by Elisabet Strid, who more than makes up for a less than stentorian voice with the warmth and credibility of her girlish Valkyrie. Of a piece with this casting is the Wotan of Christopher Maltman. While his voice may lack the expansiveness that, say, John Tomlinson brought to the previous Covent Garden production, by Keith Warner, he brings all the subtlety and nuance to his delivery that he crafted as a lieder singer earlier in his career.
And indeed the passages where he chose to rage at his wife Fricka (the excellent Marina Prudenskaya) or daughter Brünnhilde were less telling than the heartbreakingly modulated lines he delineated in his final scene with the latter.
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On the day he was announced as Conductor Laureate of the Royal Opera, Antonio Pappano proved that it was possible to discover ever deeper resonances in Wagner’s music. His conducting of the Ring has always been insightful and singer-friendly, but he now allows himself more latitude than ever to explore the expressive heart of this miraculous score.
The artists chosen are willing accomplices, as indeed are the members of the Royal Opera orchestra, who played with often breath-catching beauty and refinement.
