I MAESTRI CANTORI

Speranza

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, Metropolitan Opera, New York – review

 

A dutiful, revived production of Wagner’s opera is enlivened by James Levine’s conducting

Metropolitan Opera's 'Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg'

 

 

The current Maestri cantori at the Met dates back to 1993.

 

It could be a century older.

 

Nostalgia, even in opera, can only stretch so far.

Originally staged by Otto Schenk and designed by Günther Schneider-Siemssen, the inherent picture-book kitsch has been revived, dutifully if sometimes clumsily, by Paula Suozzi.

The first four scenes look, if little else, pretty-pretty.

The finale, however, plays out on a “festival-meadow” that turns out to be neither festive nor verdant, just cluttered and ugly.

The programme, not incidentally, credits the "ring-around-the-rosy" choreography to none less than Carmen de Lavallade.

That must be a misprint.

Musically, the proceedings are salvaged, where possible, by James Levine, who leads the six-and-a-quarter-hour endurance test with unflagging warmth and unabashed sentiment.

 

The uneven cast is dominated, with casual wit and subdued wisdom, by James Morris, a sonorous Sachs who has been practising the poetic-cobbler trade since 2001.

 

It is hard to believe that he will be 68 in January.

 

Succeeding the originally scheduled Johan Reuter, Morris sang with enough thrust to make occasional intonation-blemishes and threats of strain nearly irrelevant.

 

Johan Botha returned as a vocally and physically heavy-weight Walther Stolzing who, mirabile dictu, never seemed to tire.

Annette Dasch introduced a hyper-vivacious, sonically drab Eva, sweetly accompanied by Karen Cargill as Lene.

Paul Appleby, the exceptionally sprightly Davide, sang with welcome Mozartian suavity.

Johannes Martin Kränzle, the firm, possibly too fussy Beckmesser, at least disdained buffonesque mimicry and gimmickry.

Hans-Peter König grumbled darkly as Pogner, Martin Gartner bumbled deftly as Kothner, and Matthew Rose made much of the Nightwatchman’s warning calls.

Most of the supporting masters contradicted the text by looking like novices.

It was one of those nights.

This super-conservative Wagnerian ritual holds its own at the Metropolitan Opera until December 23.

But when the Met musters its next Meistersinger, year still unannounced, the challenge will be passed to a brave modernist, Stefan Herheim.

The change should be startling, also healthy.