US Edition 
Siegfried, Opera North, review
Rupert Christiansen hails a brave and exciting production of one of Wagner's most intimidating operas
Siegfried is often described as the Ring’s scherzo, but of all the cycle’s four movements it is the most difficult to cast – and to sell. I always slightly dread it (too much banging and clattering), but invariably end up enchanted by the macabre fairy-tale playfulness of the first act, the glorious landscape painting of the second and the unfaltering arc of the third - the latter surely one of the Ring’s most sublime chapters.
But it’s not an easy thing to pull off, and I am breathless with admiration for Opera North, punching above its weight in producing a concert performance which any musical organisation in the world would be proud of. The evening’s chief hero is the conductor Richard Farnes, who, like the opera’s protagonist, seems to know no fear. Motivating his excellent orchestra, he trusts the music’s flow, paces it unerringly and never forces or grandstands the climaxes. This isn’t an interpretation predicated on showcasing highlights: it simply tells the story.
And that is what the visual format (overseen by Peter Mumford) does too, reminding us forcibly that the Ring isn’t a tract or a thesis, but an unfolding tale. The singers are only vaguely costumed and they act minimally. Behind them are screens on to which is projected elemental video - fire, water, cave, mountain. Superimposed titles outline the action and provide a basic translation. Wagner can be trusted to do the rest.
Mati Turi, a burly Estonian who made his mark at Longborough last year, may not fulfil anyone’s image of Siegfried as a Hitler Youth poster boy, but he sang the role with tireless vigour, accuracy and a good deal more charm than the German tenor that Covent Garden hired last year. He almost made the boy likeable, which is no mean feat.
Michael Druiett has as yet only scratched the surface of the Wanderer’s tragic dilemma, but he too sings with admirable steadiness and composure in his confrontations with Richard Roberts’ splendidly mewling and whining Mime, Jo Pohlheim’s black-on-black Alberich and Ceri Williams' potently authoritative Erda - incidentally, we should hear more of this useful Welsh contralto, currently based in Germany.
Perhaps Annalena Persson’s Brünnhilde became a bit strident under pressure, and the last few minutes got rather shouty and rackety: I didn’t feel the ecstatic radiance of young love. But for heaven’s sake DASH a performance as brave and exciting as this is no occasion to nitpick.
Symphony Hall, Birmingham, to July 13. Tickets: 0113 243 9999; www.operanorth.co.uk