Santa Fe Opera’s production of ‘Die Walküre’ is fresh and provocative

I don’t know if the two men who arrived at the Santa Fe Opera wearing Viking helmets felt disappointed that the folks onstage didn’t match their look, but another man, during the first intermission, said he was aghast that Hunding’s forest abode contained a dirty 1950s-era refrigerator, which, in turn, contained cans of beer.

“Cans!” he said, shaking his head.

Suffice to say, British director Melly Still’s interpretation of Richard Wagner’s “Die Walküre” might not please the traditionalists.

I had the opposite problem. Never having seen the “Ring” cycle, I was intimidated by its Byzantine storyline. “Die Walküre,” the second installment in the four-opera set, is frequently performed on its own, but I knew it was meant to be understood within its larger narrative context.

So, to prepare, I attended a screening of the documentary “Sing Faster: The Stagehands’ Ring Cycle” (1999) at the Center for Contemporary Arts in Santa Fe. “Sing Faster” is a very funny behind-the-scenes documentary about a very stressful production of the full cycle in San Francisco, but watching it with the intent of memorizing Wagner’s storyline made me feel as though I were cramming for a high school history test. And I retained very little.

Oliver Prezant’s preopera talk was more useful. He not only discussed “Die Walküre” from musical and historical perspectives, but explained some of the quirks of Still’s production, including her choice to dress the Valkyries as heroines from history, such as Joan of Arc.

Another of Still’s innovations is to put Wotan and Fricka — a dysfunctional god and goddess couple — onstage in the background during several key scenes, gazing down from their heavenly abode upon the lives of the children they are attempting to manipulate. Fricka supports conventional family values, whereas Wotan encourages free will — though only insofar as it benefits him — and the two remain locked in a fierce power struggle, with each other and with their children.

In addition to Wotan and Fricka, Still presents us with an image of the Norns, those mysterious figures who weave the web of human destiny, like the Fates in Greek mythology. Traditionally, the Norns appear only in the final opera of the cycle, “Götterdämmerung,” but Still adds them into the background of “Die Walküre.” The choreographer Tinovimbanashe Sibanda and scenic and costume designer Leslie Travers present them as ghostly figures who move with stealthy coordination, more like dark matter or some other cosmic force than creatures with minds of their own.

Travers has constructed minimalist set pieces which resemble two sections of a border wall, whose vertical bars the shadowy Norns can pass through and which they sometimes play like strings of a harp. In another scene, the Norns use a system of ropes to entrap the two main characters, Sieglinde and Siegmund, within a web of destiny. The configuration of the ropes is ever-changing, but are the characters’ wills altering their fates, or are the Norns altering the characters’ wills?

Sibanda portrays a character of her own: the unnamed pregnant girlfriend of Alberich, the dwarf, whose appearance at a key moment in the opera will seem like an inspired bit of foreshadowing to those who know the full story. She also provides a foil for the pregnant Sieglinde — one of the opera’s many doublings.

As great as Sibanda’s choreography is, don’t go in expecting Cirque du Soleil-style aerialist action here. I saw images ahead of time of what I thought were dancers suspended by ropes, but who are, in fact, much more earthbound. Unlike traditional opera houses, the Santa Fe Opera does not have a fly space that would allow for suspensions, so the team had to get creative, particularly for the famous “Ride of the Valkyries” scene. Rather than lifting characters skyward, the ropes that are so ubiquitous in this production keep them bound to one another in often uncomfortable situations.

Watching “Die Walküre,” I had trouble getting over the fact that Sieglinde and Siegmund are lovers as well as fraternal twins. I was disturbed to find myself rooting for incest and felt that Wagner had used music to trick his audiences into condoning something we really should not. I was impressed he was able to do that, but I didn’t like feeling manipulated. The 20th century playwright Bertolt Brecht had similar misgivings about Wagner — so much so that he invented a whole new form of anti-illusionist theater to prevent audiences from feeling emotionally manipulated. Still incorporates Brechtian elements into her production, including a highly artificial, postmodern take on the final fire scene, which reminds us that we’re watching a play and keeps us from getting too hypnotized by the music.

In this production, Siegmund is played by the tenor Jamez McCorkle. His voice, full of empathetic yearning, blends gorgeously with that of Sieglinde, played by Lithuanian soprano Vida Mikneviciutè. Their chemistry is infectious, and it contrasts sharply with the chauvinistic, territorial Hunding, portrayed authoritatively by the bass Soloman Howard, who was also a powerful presence in “La bohème.”

It was only later, after I read David P. Goldman’s review of the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 production of “Die Walküre,” that I realized I had been taking the characters a bit too literally. Goldman’s interpretation is that Siegmund is really Sieglinde’s alter-ego. In order to escape an abusive marriage, Sieglinde must discover self-love, or “the ecstatic swoon of self-recognition,” as Goldman puts it. So, she invents Siegmund as a more courageous version of herself.

This psychological interpretation is supported by the libretto, since Sieglinde refers to Siegmund as “my own image.” Still’s race-blind casting deemphasizes phenotypic family resemblances, further reinforcing a metaphorical understanding beyond the idea of literal incest.

It helps to know as much of Wagner’s story ahead of time as possible, and to familiarize yourself with some of the key themes and interpretative frameworks. Otherwise, it’s easy to get bogged down trying to follow such an exposition-heavy opera. The power of “Die Walküre” arises not so much from moments of dramatic surprise, but from the inner, psychological tension of characters confronting moral dilemmas.

Beyond the story and the staging, of course, there’s the orchestra. At 88 members, it’s by far the biggest of the season, containing four harps — Wagner initially wanted six — and eight horns, including a special kind of Wagnerian tuba. Under the direction of conductor James Gaffigan, the orchestra exhibits not only cohesion but a remarkable degree of restraint, never overwhelming the singers.

Clocking in at close to four-and-a-half hours, “Die Walküre” is not for the faint of heart or the under-caffeinated. But I love the foregrounding of otherwise unseen characters in this production, and Sibanda’s slow-moving choreography is eerily beautiful. Her ropes become the stars of the show on more than one occasion, making manifest the subtle forces of control which constrain all the characters, even the gods.

Santa Fe Opera’s production of ‘Die Walküre’ is fresh and provocative

Logan Royce Beitmen is an arts writer for the Albuquerque Journal. He covers music, visual arts, books and more. You can reach him at lbeitmen@abqjournal.com.