The Santa Fe Opera proved it was possible to stage a high-quality Tristan und Isolde at an elevation of nearly 7,000 feet with its new production of Richard Wagner’s vocal behemoth, which opened Saturday.
It’s just the second Wagner opus to be staged here — The Flying Dutchman was given in 1971, 1973 and 1988 — and almost certainly the longest piece in company history at four hours and 30 minutes.
Tristan is more about the ideas underlying the plot than the action itself, but it could be summarized as follows: Although he killed her fiancé in battle, Tristan and Isolde fell deeply in love. Nevertheless, as the opera begins, he is bringing her to Cornwall as a trophy wife for King Marke. When their illicit passion is discovered, Tristan is fatally wounded; he and Isolde find eternal union in the never-ending night of death.
High praise goes to conductor James Gaffigan and the opera orchestra, which played with as much purpose and precision as I’ve ever heard from it. Gaffigan’s musical intentions are clearly conveyed, and he struck an excellent balance between the reflective and the turbulent portions of the score. With one or two momentary exceptions, the singers were audible throughout, which is no small feat with this opera.
A particularly effective sonic touch was placing the sailor, whose a capella song about an Irish lass is the opera’s opening text, in the theater mezzanine instead of backstage. The long and forlorn English horn solos at the beginning of the third act were limpidly performed by Julia DeRosa.
As Isolde, Tamara Wilson was a force of nature, pouring out an ocean of gleaming sound for the entire evening. Its size may be the first thing you notice about her voice, but she also sings with great expressivity, deploying an impressive range of emotive colorations. As an actor, Wilson has an expressive face that seemed alive to her character’s inner life during the long, and often slow-moving, arcs of thought.
Simon O’Neill’s Tristan was vocally acceptable in the first act, when he sang with a reedy, nasal tone, but matters improved significantly in Acts II and III, with a more focused sound and volume that could almost match Wilson’s. His extended monologue, which begins the final act, worked very well due to his performance and Wagner’s vocal writing, which clearly delineates all the dramatic shifts involved in his delirium. O’Neill is a less inventive actor than his counterparts, so in other sections, he was sometimes a cipher and sometimes reliant on a melodramatic, old-fashioned opera acting style.
The erotic aspect of the title characters’ doomed attraction during their long Act II love duet was more metaphysical than physical. It was effectively sung, however, and in its quieter, more reflective passages had an emotionally beguiling simplicity.
Nicholas Brownlee’s gruff bass-baritone was a good match with the character Kurwenal, Tristan’s loyal servant. I would have enjoyed a wider exploration of volume ranges in his singing, which stayed forte and above, but Brownlee offered the most fully realized acting performance in the cast. His portrayal of Kurwenal also served as a “coming attractions” trailer — a former apprentice, he is returning to Santa Fe next summer in the title role of The Flying Dutchman.
Eric Owens was a sonorous King Marke, effectively tapping into his character’s dignity and disappointment after discovering his betrayal at the hands of Tristan (his adopted heir) and Isolde (his wife as of the second act). Jamie Barton was sympathetic as Brangäne, Isolde’s maid, and made effective use of her strong lower and middle vocal registers.
In a Santa Fe Opera first, the scenery was designed by architects — the principals in the firm Charlap Hyman & Herrero — and it proved to be both ingenious and effective. It’s essentially two textured white walls, a very large one pointed upstage and a slightly smaller one inside it pointing downstage, with several doors cut into each surface.
Despite its size, the set was perfectly scaled for the space. The simplicity, speed and sophistication with which it morphed from scene to scene within each act were impressive contrasts to the clunky changes in Falstaff, which opened a week ago. The final vista was particularly memorable, with the walls opening to reveal the night sky beyond the theater and Isolde slowly walking upstage to disappear into the void.
The scenic design was tightly integrated with John Torres’ lighting design and Greg Emetaz’s projections, which functioned almost entirely in an abstract fashion. The only exception was a telling one: a giant shadow of Isolde that appeared during Tristan’s third-act hallucinations.
Co-directors Zack Winokur and Lisenka Heijboer Castañón created many striking and unique tableaus with simple means — the sum total of furniture-like objects onstage was a box
(Act I), a tree trunk (Act II) and a rock catafalque (Act III). Playing spaces were defined by lighting and which characters were present.
A particularly successful example came in the first act, which nominally takes place on the prow of a ship and features the unhappy Isolde and Brangäne. It was a claustrophobic, diamond-shaped area no more than six feet on a side, symbolizing the entrapment Isolde feels in her arranged marriage. The only time she was allowed to venture away was during her memories of meeting Tristan.
Most of Carlos Soto’s costumes were excellent. Unfortunately, Tristan’s warrior attire wasn’t among them, and it too often suggested a Michelin Man in the first two acts. The stage combat at the ends of the second and third acts by Rick Sordelet and Christian Kelly-Sordelet was rudimentary.
My reservations about the evening are due almost entirely to the piece itself, which to me seems brilliantly crafted but pretentious narcissism that takes too long to convey its message. The opera’s reliance on tenets of Arthur Schopenhauer’s philosophy makes much of the action (such as it is) opaque. But this is a fine production of an opera that will come this way but rarely.
Two final thoughts — if you decide to go, the mezzanine is probably the best place to sit, thanks to its superior acoustics and big-picture vantage point. And if the opera is unfamiliar to you, drive out to the box office before your performance date to get a program book and read James M. Keller’s excellent notes in advance.
