Absent from the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion stage since December, Los Angeles Opera returned with Wagner’s “The Flying Dutchman” on Saturday, seen in a production new to the company. It was handsome enough, even stylish in a way, but certainly not of the caliber of Wagner productions presented here in the past, including David Hockney’s “Tristan und Isolde,” Achim Freyer’s “Ring” cycle and Julie Taymor’s “Dutchman.”
The production was created by the veteran German director Nikolaus Lehnhoff for Lyric Opera of Chicago in 2001. The unit set is a raked stage which is framed by the ribs of a ship, done up in industrial girders, a catwalk above. The sailors have pale faces and red eyes and dress in a manner that can perhaps best be described as Gorton’s Fisherman meets Toshiro Mifune. The chorus of young ladies who await their return are a fright, similarly pale and balding, enwrapped in metal hoop skirts that glow. Daland’s hair looks like he stole it from a Chia Pet. A spinning nuclear fallout sign at the back of the stage represents the Dutchman’s ghost ship. Don’t ask me.
It is all enchantingly lit, though, and with the addition of smoke effects pretty stage pictures are created. Still, it doesn’t say much. It’s merely decorative.
“The Flying Dutchman” is the first opera in which Wagner became Wagner, taking on the mythic story of a wandering mariner, doomed to roam the seas for eternity unless he finds redemption in a faithful woman. It is also a wonderfully oceanic score, briny, surging and storming. One wanted more probing thought, more vivid detail, maybe even a few more mysterious symbols than this production provided. One at least wanted a better idea of what was going on at the end (Senta flings herself into the sea, the Dutchman’s ship sinks, the two ascend into the heavens) rather than the vague stroll into a fog bank here.
What may end up being most talked about with this “Dutchman” is that it was given without an intermission. This, apparently, was Wagner’s wish at least early on, but he never led a performance without intermission himself, nor encouraged others, as far as we know, to do the same. At two hours and 15 minutes, “Dutchman” isn’t the longest of slogs, but tell that to your backside after sitting in those Chandler seats for the duration.
At least it was pretty well sung. Icelandic baritone Tómas Tómasson, in a fedora and cape, savored the lugubrious melancholy of the Dutchman, sculpting his lines with a deeply resonant voice and eloquence. The Portuguese soprano Elisabete Matos was supposed to sing Senta, but it was announced at curtain time that she was indisposed.
Stepping in, Julie Makerov, a veteran of the demanding role in Toronto and Salzburg, seemed a little careful at first, or at least less than compelling. But as the opera wore on, she threw herself into it and became a more robust and agile presence. James Creswell gave a nice comic turn as the money-grubbing Daland, obsequious in manners and phrases. Corey Bix appeared miscast as Erik, though he has sung the role before. Underpowered, he never quite sank his teeth into the part. Matthew Plenk was a pointed Steersman and Ronnita Nicole Miller a lightweight Mary.
Conductor James Conlon brought out the best in the LA Opera Orchestra, starting with a vehement account of the overture. He maintained brisk momentum, incisive rhythm and gently glowing textures. He found the daintiness and the dance in the score, too, no small accomplishment with Wagner.
Contact the writer: 714-796-6811 or tmangan@ocregister.com
