The Budapest Wagner Days Ring often ends in spellbound silence, a testament to the joint power of Wagner’s work and the performances in which they come alive. This year’s Götterdämmerung earned just such a reception.
Much praise for it is owed to Iréne Theorin. After a rather pale Walküre, it was as if a switch had been flipped for her Götterdämmerung Brünnhilde. Her voice gained body and a remarkable clarity of tone, and though there was a somewhat shrill edge to her high notes, they came out powerfully as ever, riding comfortably over the orchestra. From Act 2 onwards, she commanded the stage completely, rendering the process of Brünnhilde’s fear and helplessness turning into mounting ire with blood-curling intensity – “Helle Wehr!” and the revenge trio had you on the edge of your seat. The Immolation Scene, though not faultless, was mesmerisingly dramatic, from a touchingly rendered “Wie Sonne lauter strahlt mir sein Licht” to the final conflagration. This wasn’t a pristine performance, but it was certainly a magnetic one. The production worked well here once again, and quite in Theorin’s favour; particularly striking were the moments showcasing Brünnhilde’s loneliness and captivity, and the gutting staging of her assault and defeat by the disguised Siegfried.
Stagewise, Theorin was ideally matched by Stefan Vinke, their chemistry and comfort notable in Act 1. Vocally ever reliable, Vinke blazed through Siegfried’s part in his usual full-throated, no-holds-barred fashion – always an impressive feat, though it leaves one wanting for the occasional moderation in volume and tone. There can be little complaint about his devastatingly delivered “Brünnhilde! Heilige Braut!” though, nor about his stage presence, vividly portraying an almost childish brute. His rough-and-tumble interactions with Károly Szemerédy’s wimpy, prim-and-proper Gunther provided the evening’s brief comic moments.
Szemerédy’s resonant, appealingly dark baritone was almost too noble for the sorry figure his Gunther cut onstage, holding his own aplenty against Vinke in their blood oath. As the beguiling Gutrune, Lilla Horti’s charming, youthful soprano was initially beset by a rather unruly vibrato, much improving from Act 2 onwards. On villainous double duty in this Ring, Albert Dohmen’s icy schemer Hagen rounded off the Gibichung court with aplomb. Deniz Uzun showed off an earthy, powerful mezzo as a highly dramatic Waltraute, while the Hungarian ensemble of Erika Gál, Judit Németh and Andrea Brassói-Jőrös as the Norns, and Orsolya Sáfár, Gabriella Fodor and Zsófia Kálnay as the Rhinemaidens gave strong performances. The combined forces of the Hungarian Radio Choir and the Budapest Studio Choir proved appropriately momentous.
At the helm, Ádám Fischer kept things tightly moving – no mean feat considering the two-hour Prologue and Act 1 marathon. His ability to build dramatic momentum shone throughout, in the ecstatic first entrance of Brünnhilde and Siegfried, a jubilant Rheinfahrt, and the glum, looming sense of catastrophe woven throughout Acts 2 and 3, exploding into an apocalyptic frenzy with the Immolation Scene. Though a few beauty spots marked Siegfried’s horn calls from the brass, the Hungarian Radio Symphonic Orchestra played with a fierce energy, offering, in turns, a severe, overwhelming wave of sound, then redemptive beauty from the wonderfully articulated strings and golden-toned woodwinds. A highly laudable achievement for the Budapest Wagner Days once more – and hopefully one that, despite the precarious financial situation of Hungarian cultural life and the festival itself hanging in the balance, may be repeated again next season.
