Speranza
A Film by Hans Jürgen Syberberg
Syberberg's monumental
and celebrated film about Wagner's music-drama Parsifal was released to coincide
with the centenary of Wagner's death.
Syberberg made his film entirely in a
studio, like his previous films Ludwig: Requiem for a Virgin King (Ludwig:
Requiem für einen Jungfraülichen König) and Hitler: A Film from Germany (Hitler:
ein Film aus Deutschland).
The resources of a film studio allowed Syberberg to
film the opera against a constantly shifting screen of references and allusions
shown by front-projection, thus imprinting his own vision of Parsifal and
Richard Wagner in a manner of which a stage-director could only dream, whilst
also having the other advantage of film, that of showing in close-up the emotion
of the opera in the faces of his actors and actresses.
Right: Scene
from H.J. Syberberg's film. ©Artificial Eye.
Syberberg worked
on the project for several years before it could be realised. After completing
Hitler: A Film from Germany, he searched for a project that would be, as he
called it, less Syberberg. Almost alone among German artists, Syberberg has
constantly sought to explain and uncover the romantic and irrational in German
culture, now ignored or suppressed because of Hitler, the bitter flower of
German irrationalism as Syberberg has called him.
Wagner has always been a
constant presence in Syberberg's films, both in Ludwig and Hitler (because of
their respective obsession and passion for his music), and of course in The
Confessions of Winifred Wagner (Winifred Wagner und die Gesichte des Hauses
Wahnfried von 1914-1975), where the unrepentant old lady talks on about the good
old days at Bayreuth when the Führer made his annual pilgrimage to the shrine.
It was inevitable that Syberberg should come to make a film about Wagner
himself. His first idea was just that, a film about Wagner, but gradually the
Parsifal project took root. He had intended to try to use a recording from a
Bayreuth performance as the soundtrack to his Parsifal film, but after the
Winifred Wagner film, he was none too popular with the Wagner family, and
permission for him to record in Bayreuth was refused.
A new recording of the
opera was commissioned, with the Swiss conductor Armin Jordan, the Monte Carlo
Philharmonic and singers of the calibre of Yvonne Minton (as Kundry), Reiner
Goldberg (as Parsifal) and Robert Lloyd (as a youthful Gurnemanz).
Syberberg
wanted the soundtrack to be a separate entity and to use actors who would mime
to the pre-recorded track, reasoning that actors were better capable than
singers of giving the facial and bodily expression that film demands, and also
wanting, for intellectual and aesthetic reasons, the voice to be separate from
the body. However, this was not an absolute condition, and so both Robert Lloyd
as Gurnemanz and Aage Haugland as Klingsor both sing and act their
parts.
Left: Kundry asleep, from H.J. Syberberg's film. ©Artificial
Eye.
The Paradisiacal Man
Syberberg regards Kundry
as the centre of the opera, and so chose for the part the outstanding German
actress, Edith Clever.
Her incarnation of Kundry as variously mother, seductress
and penitent has been unanimously praised as a performance of hair-raising
intensity.
Parsifal himself is played by two people.
First a boy (Michael
Kutter) and then, after Kundry's kiss, by a girl (Karin Krick), a coup- de-
theatre for which Syberberg gives no complete explanation, although he has said
that it attempts to render Parsifal as a person with both masculine and feminine
poles, which in the final act come together to create a paradisiacal man, an
androgyne.
He has also said that it counteracts Wagner's depiction of an
exclusively masculine redemption.
However, even as a device of staging alone, it
works extraordinarily well when we hear Goldberg's voice come from Karin Krick,
her face radiantly pure.
Right: Edith Clever as Kundry and Michael
Kutter as Parsifal in H.J. Syberberg's film. ©Artifical
Eye.
Significance Through Time
yberberg considers
Parsifal to be Wagner's testament, a vision of redemption emerging from his life
and his work in music, and so, for Syberberg it is Wagner himself who is the
subject in his staging of the opera, together with a century of Wagnerian
thought, attitudes and reactions. Because of Wagner's looming presence over
German and European culture, the whole of European civilisation is drawn into
the film. Syberberg has said, Just as the composer was inspired by a legendary
evocation of the Middle Ages in his desire to express ideas which were of his
own time, I am basing my approach on the fact that the work is one hundred years
old and I can therefore describe its significance through time. Hence Syberberg
puts before us not just a film of the opera, but absolutely everything that
Parsifal evokes in him. Whilst the music floods our hearing, Syberberg feeds our
eyes with as much as he can crystallise of what effect that music, and that
music's very existence, has had on him.
Left: Flower maidens, from
H.J. Syberberg's film. ©Artificial Eye.
he studio set is
dominated by a huge replica of Wagner's death mask, becoming a mountain on which
much of the action is staged, being Klingsor's tower, the flowery meadow and
finally parting in two to reveal (Syberberg's vision of) the Grail. The density
of allusion in the film is enormous and too much to comprehend in a single
viewing: Caspar David Friedrich, Ingres, Goya, Dürer, Titian, Caravaggio and
Bramante all figure in the imagery; the allegorical statues of the Synagogue and
Faith on Strasbourg Cathedral are evoked; Amfortas sits on Charlemagne's throne
from the cathedral at Aachen; Titurel lies in the crypt of Saint-Denis; scenes
from various Bayreuth productions of Parsifal and the Ring appear; the 1882
production of the former is recreated in puppet form during the prelude, with
both costumes and faces modelled from photographs; a casement of the room in the
Palazzo Vendramin, where Wagner died, is used as a backdrop; heads of Aeschylus,
King Ludwig, Nietzsche, Marx and Wagner himself lie at the foot of Klingsor's
throne; Mathilde Wesendonk and Judith Gautier are glimpsed among the flower
maidens; the approach to the hall of the Grail is down a flag-lined corridor --
a procession, backward in time, through the history of Germany into a world of
myth; the destruction of Germany is evoked at the beginning with postcards of
the ruins, and we see various puppets of Wagner, including a realisation of
André Gill's caricature of Wagner hammering at a human ear.
Right:
Kundry, Gurnemanz and Parsifal, from H.J. Syberberg's film. ©Artificial
Eye.
The Heart of the Matter
et amidst the
plethora of cultural and Wagnerian references and inferences, (a deliberate
creation of a world apart, which Syberberg sees as the aim of artistic
endeavour) the acting performances themselves are traditional. Although with his
constantly changing backgrounds and artificial sets in which Syberberg attains
the Brechtian distanciation of a film like Hitler, the concentration of the
camera on the performers' faces focuses the attention on the emotion at the
heart of the opera. Syberberg often used very long takes, with a complex
choreography of camera movements, to keep the attention on the drama, and to
avoid breaking up the slow unfolding of Wagner's musical themes by cuts in the
images. Hence Syberberg also allows Edith Clever's bravura performance to
unfold, so that he lets us experience Parsifal with an intensity and directness
not possible on the stage. As the New York Times said, It's as if Wagner's
hypnotic allure and Brecht's intellectualised alienation have been somehow
mystically unified. In this immensely ambitious work Syberberg presents Wagner's
life, music and thought. He also presents a critique of those same things,
whilst mounting a sumptuous and resonant production of the opera that is a feast
for the eyes and ears, a true Gesamtkunstwerk, or, as Newsweek said, The film
performs the extraordinary feat of both splendidly presenting and forcibly
challenging a consummate work of art.
Themes
Religious
Processions
recurring element of this film is movement in procession.
Indeed, processions of knights are required by the score and Syberberg makes the
most of these. Their first procession is that which follows Amfortas down to the
lake and back again. In the Grail Temple, the knights march with their weapons
and relics, such as chalices and even a statue of the young Parsifal, and the
pages bear the bleeding wound. In the third act, this march becomes a procession
of the living dead. Syberberg introduces other processions too, not required by
the stage directions. Such as the pages with the dead swan, or the group that
searches for and brings back the Grail, an enormous rock in the shape of a
platonic solid. Where a stage production of Parsifal would be static, Syberberg
introduces purposeful movement, with the camera also moving with the procession.
In the transition scene of the first act, we follow Parsifal and Gurnemanz
through a maze: moving in space, they seem to move backwards in time from the
present, passing through the Nazi era on the way. In the transition scene of the
third act, the path to the Grail Temple seems to pass through the
sky.
Left: the procession of the knights in H.J. Syberberg's film.
©Artificial Eye.
Male and Female Parsifals
Grails, Relics and Fetish Objects
ne of the themes
that repeatedly is heard through the many layers of Syberberg's film, like one
of Wagner's leitmotiven, is concerned with relics and fetish objects. The story
of Parsifal seems to have been written down for the first time in the twelfth
century, an age in which relics were a focus of religious devotion. These relics
could be the remains of saints, or objects associated with them, or even with
Christ himself: fragments of the True Cross, or phials of the Blood that was
shed on that cross. Crusaders and pilgrims returning from the Holy Land brought
back with them new objects of veneration, to be preserved by Christendom: such
as the blade of the Lance that had pierced the side of Christ. Poets began to
tell of one relic that surpassed all of these: the mysterious Grail. Syberberg
shows us the Grail in its many forms: a chalice carried by a beautiful maiden,
or a stone that fell from the sky. At the end of the opera, the true Grail is
revealed to be none of these, but the union of male and female in the
paradisiacal man.
mfortas's wound too seems to be a religious relic, or
perhaps a fetish object. The bleeding wound has become separated from Amfortas
and pages carry it on a cushion. When the swan is killed by Parsifal, the Grail
community immediately turns it into a relic. As they decay and fossilize, the
knights try to preserve each other, bizarrely, in polythene sheets. There is a
stench of decay. Syberberg seems to be saying something about the futility of
trying to preserve the past, when we should be living in the present. At the
very end of the film, Kundry shows us the greatest relic of all: preserved under
a glass bell like an object in a museum, she cradles the Festspielhaus.
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