Götterdämmerung, San Francisco Opera, July 3 2011

You know that a production has taken a left turn somewhere when the staging matches the libretto so poorly that they have to take serious liberties with the supertitles. And that’s what happens in San Francisco Opera’s staging of the first prologue to Götterdämmerung, with the Norns. Wagner sets the action on the Valkyries’ rock, where Brünnhilde was laid down to sleep on Wednesday evening and Siegfried awakened her on Friday evening. It’s now Sunday afternoon, and the Norns are supposed to be tossing the rope of fate from one to the other and tying it variously around a pine tree, a fir tree, and a rock. Wagner has the Third Norn begin what little action there is with “Why don’t we spin and sing?” In San Francisco, the scene takes place on, or within, a printed circuit board that is projected on the scrim. On the floor there is a massive pile of thick cables, clearly reminiscent of the cables underneath the raised floor of any computer room that has been in use for years, and the Third Norn sings “Why don’t we switch the cable now?” Later on, the supertitle reads “I used to lay the cable by the fir tree.” When the rope of fate frays and breaks, there is a flash of light from the end of the cable, and we read “The connection is broken!” as we hear “Es riß! Es riß! Es riß!” (“It tore!”) All the while, the Norns are wearing garish green surgical gowns and skullcaps, with black aprons in front, and are sporting dark sunglasses.

At the end of the first prologue, the Norns descend “to mother” and the scene changes to the Valkyries’ rock, as called for. It is the same set as at the end of Siegfried, with the concrete structures of the Die Walküre set showing the ravages of time.

Act 1 proper begins in the Hall of the Gibichungs. The structure is largely plate-glass windows supported by thick stainless steel frames; the furniture consists of a couple of white modern-style sofas, almost Mies van der Rohe in appearance, and a small bar. In the background an oil refinery can barely be discerned. Act 1 ends back at the Valkyries’ rock, with Waltraute’s entreaty to Brünnhilde to give the ring back to the Rhinemaidens and “Gunther’s” conquest of Brünnhilde.

Act 2 opens with the appearance of Alberich and his question to Hagen, “Are you sleeping, my son?” Here the extended orchestral introduction is given a strange accompaniment on stage. Hagen and Gutrune are sitting on a large Mies van der Rohe-style bed; Hagen is apparently channel-surfing by pointing a remote control at the audience. When he clicks it, a red LED on its end illuminates, and a brief rectangular flash appears on the scrim, though we don’t actually see any TV images. Gutrune tries her hand with the remote control, then leaves and Hagen curls up in time for Alberich’s appearance. After the dialogue between father and son, Hagen goes back to sleep, and Alberich picks up the remote control and appears to be as puzzled by it as any 1900-era person might be. It’s humorous, but we don’t need humor here.

Act 2 continues with a more public place in the Hall of the Gibichungs. The raked metal grate stage that underlies every scene of this Ring is there, surmounted by a horizontal white platform that occupies most of the right half of the stage. On the left, a few white steps descend to the metal grate floor; on the right, more white steps ascend to the edge of the stage. On the left there is a long low bench extending from downstage to upstage.

In Act 3 the destruction of Nature continues. The Rhine has apparently run dry. The river bed is festooned with empty plastic bottles, old tires, and other detritus; toward the rear is a discarded camper shell. The Rhinemaidens appear with large black plastic garbage bags and begin to fill them with the plastic water bottles. When Siegfried enters, he is carrying a rifle in addition to Notung. The curtain drops for the scene change in which all the river bed junk is removed. Three pairs of lights seem to approach from the rear, but when the curtain goes up, there are no jeeps to be seen. Siegfried, Gunther, and Hagen are dressed in bright orange coveralls, while the rest of the hunting party is dressed in camouflage. The spoils of the hunt are brought in on handcarts, flat platforms with an axle and rubber tires located very near the end of the cart. Siegfried’s body will be carried back to the Hall of the Gibichungs on one of these carts.

The final scene is set on a bare stage, just the metal grate floor that we are quite familiar with by now. Siegfried’s body is brought in on one of the handcarts. At the end the body is unceremoniously dumped over the edge at the back of the stage while “gasoline” is poured from jerry cans over the now out-of-sight body. Hagen enters with his cry of “Zurück von dem Ring!” (“Get back from the Ring!”), and rather than drowning him the Rhinemaidens whip out a bright yellow plastic bag and suffocate him with it. More “message,” I guess.

Our cast:
First Norn: Ronnita Miller
Second Norn: Daveda Karanas
Third Norn: Heidi Melton
Brünnhilde: Nina Stemme
Siegfried: Ian Storey
Gunther: Gerd Grochowski
Gutrune: Melissa Citro
Hagen: Andrea Silvestrelli
Waltraute: Daveda Karanas
Alberich: Gordon Hawkins
Woglinde: Stacey Tappan
Wellgunde: Lauren McNeese
Flosshilde: Renée Tatum
Conductor: Donald Runnicles
Director: Francesca Zambello

I continue to be a big fan of Andrea Silvestrelli. His Hagen was appropriately menacing, and his Hagen’s Watch solo near the end of Act 1 was spine-tingling. Gordon Hawkins shone in his limited role as Alberich, just as he did in Siegfried. Nina Stemme performed solidly as Brünnhilde all afternoon long. Ian Storey was OK as Siegfried. The orchestra under Runnicles’s direction was in top form. The curtain call featured something I had never seen before: the entire orchestra was on stage, with the principal horn player in the lineup in front, next to Runnicles.

So what am I going to remember from this, my eleventh Ring cycle? I will remember Brandon Jovanovich’s remarkable debut as Siegmund. I will remember Andrea Silvestrelli’s commanding presence as Fasolt and as Hagen, and wish that he could have sung Hunding as well. I will remember Jay Hunter Morriss’s well-acted Siegfried, and hope that his being called up from his role as cover will be the start of something big for him. I will remember the glorious sound at my seat in the balcony. And even though I didn’t care for it (perhaps because I didn’t care for it), Francesca Zambello’s excesses with the staging will be memorable. Everything considered, a beta-plus.