‘Thus might we die together, ever one, without end, never waking….to live only for love!’ These lyrics are possibly the essence of this complex and fascinating version of Wagner’s pivotal opera, Tristan and Isolde. In this new production , the first for the ENO in twenty years, the rich and wonderful artistry of director Daniel Kramer is combined with a superbly symbolic set by Anish Kapoor.
Anish Kapoor is a man of many talents, famous for his sculptures and installations. With Tristan and Isolde, his interpretation aim is ‘encouraging belief in the unbelievable’. He seeks to raise the ordinary to heroic proportions by creating a world full of those possibilities.
In this endeavour, he succeeds admirably in Acts 1 and 2. The effect of the set in Act 1 was limited from the angle of seating towards the sides of the auditorium, production photos showing that from the centre of the seating the effect is magnificent. From the side, however, the walls encroach too far into the action and the brilliance of the gold is dulled to a soft sheen.
The perspicacity of Kapoor is most evident in the final moments of the opera when Isolde appears in the cave-like world from the night scene of Act 2. She pulls Tristan into the cave in his dying moments, effectively separating him from the real world. It was as if she was pulling him back into the womb.
The vision is fed with stunningly beautiful lighting, by Paul Anderson, adding a further dimension to this epic landscape. In Act 2, the lighting plays in the cave, changing mood and ambience with bursts of colour and intensity. An unusual video element is supplied by Frieder Weiss and enhances the visual impact of Act 3 to great effect whilst a dynamic video effect in Act 2 adds a touch of whimsy.
The costuming is diverse and as complex as the story itself with avant-garde costume designs by Christina Cunningham. There are many styles thrown together throughout the Acts and some of the design choices are hard to understand. The connection to both story and the overall production aesthetic is difficult to find in the costuming. For example, the use of a ninja quality for Tristan’s opening costume is at variance with Isolde’s gown and the dress of the servants. Its odd and jarring.
The ENO have gathered a stellar cast for this production with Stuart Skelton, widely acknowledged as the master of his time, in the title role of Tristan. Skelton is well matched with Heidi Melton as Isolde. Though making her debut on the London stage, Melton has excelled in Wagnerian roles on other world stages.
Both of these performers show amazing control over their instruments and prove what stamina they have for these gigantic roles. However the flow of feeling necessary to maintain audience empathy for the characters has still to be developed between the pair. There are times when music and lyrics speak of the bliss in being together but this Tristan and Isolde are separated not only by the staging, but by an air of being wrapped in their own selves. Even when they are physically together there is a chasm between them.
The outstanding performance of the evening was given by Craig Colcough as Tristan’s servant Kurwenal. It is the energy of his portrayal that illuminates his Kurwenal. He begins the play resplendent in form, looking like a Pedrolino from commedia delle’arte. This is reinforced in Act 3 where Colcough commands time and space in the opening scene.
Against minimal staging with side lighting throwing fascinating shadows everywhere you look, Kurwenal scuttles to and fro, searching for signs of a ship to rescue his dying master. Particularly in this scene, all elements of music, design and staging combine to support the performance and make magic.
Karen Cargill also delights in the sister role to Kurwenal, Brangane. There is much comic bi-play between the two and the role gives Cargill ample opportunity to display her splendid voice. In the role of King Marke, is Matthew Rose who manages to garner audience sympathy for his plight. There is one moment in Act 2 when, in his troubled state, he leans for support against the back of the sphere as if he’s Atlas shouldering the weight of the world.
Undoubtedly one of the biggest stars of the night is the marvellous ENO orchestra conducted by Edward Garner and sweeping through the powerful Wagnerian score. The music undulates through four and half hours, at times declamatory, and at others insinuating itself into your soul. Every member of that magnificent orchestra can be congratulated on a flawless performance.
Much has been written on the story of Tristan and Isolde: about it’s imagery, it’s subtext and the deeper meanings behind the classic mythical tale. Tristan and Isolde is held to be a benchmark in opera because of Wagner’s departure from (then) common compositional practices. The through-writing of the work, with its use of leitmotif and unresolved cadences, has been much discussed. The question then is one of musical ethics: how does musical knowledge affect enjoyment of the audience?
The debate compares the emotional connection of audience members with no knowledge of music, or Wagnerian opera in this case, to the pundit with an intimate knowledge of its history and machinations. It is argued that every audience appreciates the work at their own level. With this production, there is room to argue that enjoyment would be greatly enhanced with familiarity of the work in all its facets.
The story is simple enough to understand. Tristan and Isolde drink a love potion and fall madly in love with each other but the barriers to their love, both practical and ethical, are so huge that death is considered a viable alternative to living an incomplete existence. So they take a death potion as well in an attempt to be together forever in death and are thwarted until the end. However there are many essays on the nuances of very moment of the story that identify this as an epic tale of heroic love.
When this heroic tale is echoed in music and through the artistry of design, its complexity is multiplied in an exponential function and the Wagnerian beginner sees and appreciates only the most basic function of it all. Sometimes, to a beginner, the language of the art in all its forms has evolved to a point that meaning becomes incomprehensible.
Tristan and Isolde is definitely an art form that begs to be researched before it is experienced in order to increase one’s comprehension and, hence, enjoyment. How wonderful it is when Wagner’s use of leitmotif is recognised in all its variations? How mesmerising is it when each unresolved cadence is mounted on the back of the one before? How beautiful is the set when you recognise that Kapoor has created a world suspended in space for the lovers to inhabit?
Immeasurably.