Back in the 1970s, Seattle Opera’s Ring melded visionary
ambition and bootstrap eccentricity. Presented annually on a shoestring
budget, the epic cycle of Richard Wagner’s four operas joined a
pantheon of civic emblems like the Space Needle, J. P. Patches, loutish
Seafair pirates, Ivar’s, and the Pike Place Market. Now a well-funded
quadrennial world-class attraction, the current Ring—I
caught the second of three cycles—looks and sounds somewhat
tired, despite sumptuous sets and some fantastic singers.
The first opera, Das Rheingold, opens with the first of
several dazzling sets in the cycle. Three Rhinemaidens, suspended amid
a shimmering sea of azure light and green gradients, sing while
capering, flapping, and otherwise swimming in the river. In 2005, the
harness wires, though visible, blended with the swaying reeds and other
watery vegetation. Here, they were too obvious, exposed by overly
bright lighting.
Lighting also marred the third scene of Rheingold. The gloomy
cavern of Nibelheim was much brighter than in 2005, revealing the
darkness into which Alberich vanishes while demonstrating the
Tarnhelm’s power. I also wish that the veins of gold had pulsed like
embers as they did in 2005. Yet Richard Paul Fink as Alberich, the
dwarf who steals the Rhinemaidens’ gold, saved the scene, preening,
fumbling, leering, and yearning. Fink was masterly throughout the
cycle, transforming his character from a greedy villain of
Rheingold to a sulphurically vengeful father in
Götterdämmerung.
Another Seattle Opera Ring-cycle perennial, Greer Grimsley,
acquired a bit more of the gravitas expected of Wotan, ruler of the
gods. Although he sometimes evaporated next to Stephanie Blythe’s
torrential Fricka in Rheingold, Grimsley picked up some
guttural, almost subterranean heft in Siegfried. Wotan still
needs some tighter instruction from returning director Steven
Wadsworth: When he encounters Siegfried at the foot of
Brünnhilde’s mountain, the ruler of the gods doesn’t know what to
do with himself, sometimes kneeling, posing, or inexplicably flattening
himself against the rocks.
Blythe was superb, not only in Walküre but as the
Valkyrie Waltraute in Götterdämmerung. Standing next
to Brünnhilde, played by Janice Baird, Blythe’s elemental
presence—I felt her voice before as well as behind
me—underscored Baird’s inability to convey the lower portion of
her part. Some notes just disappeared. Baird was very good starring in
Seattle Opera’s Elektra last October; she just doesn’t have the
range or the power to sing, and more importantly project,
Brünnhilde. Jane Eaglen, Seattle Opera’s previous Brünnhilde,
sometimes abraded her high notes, though despite such signs of vocal
wear, she wailed and blustered, riding atop the music as if she were
another section of the orchestra.
Stig Andersen’s Siegfried was rightly jolly, hectoring a marvelously
craven Mime (Dennis Petersen) and playing the impetuous man-child
convincingly. Unfortunately, his voice still suffered from a mild
illness that plagued him in the first cycle; his upper notes were hard
to hear. His attenuated top end blunted one of the most moving moments
of the cycle: During the closing love duet of Siegfried, Baird
and Andersen were inaudible. Clutching each other with the fervor of
newfound love, both were submerged in a sea of sound. By the final
cycle, I suspect Andersen will return to full voice. He finally sounded
healthy for his death scene in the middle of
Götterdämmerung.
Conducted by Robert Spano, the orchestra was impressive as were much
of the cast, including Daniel Sumegi (Fafner/Hagen), Andrea
Silvestrelli (Fasolt/Hunding), Stuart Skelton (Siegmund), and Margaret
Jane Wray (Sieglinde/Third Norn). Most of the sets, notably the
rough-hewn rocks of Brünnhilde’s mountain, the woodland vegetation
by Fafner’s lair, and the exquisite relief traceries gracing the hall
of the Gibichungs, remain spectacular.
Before Seattle Opera retires this production in 2013, I hope for a
few other improvements. Borrowed from Wagner’s temple to the
Ring, Bayreuth, the electronic hammering that opens and closes
Rheingold‘s Nibelheim scene should be replaced. Heard in the
classic Patrice Chéreau version that placed The Ring in
an industrial setting, the synchronized mechanical clanging makes
sense; yet in this traditional broadswords-and-breastplates production,
the sound design fails its fundamental mission: to conjure the sense of
entering and exiting a portal to another filthy, forbidden alien world.
Even worse, its pianissimo entry and circular route around McCaw Hall
mimics a ringing cell phone.
Some other directorial touch-ups are also in order: Erda’s emergence
and exit from the cliff in Siegfried should be slinky (like the
slithering Ewa Podles in 2005) not perfunctory. Fafner the dragon moved
quite clumsily this time, and some of the forest birds failed to appear
on cue. Cursed with a descending scrim that telegraphs a forthcoming
video projection, the final scene of Götterdämmerung remains a muddle of fire, hovering Rhinemaidens, fog, and vaporous
figures. A lonely, titanic fire is sufficient to announce the
apocalypse. 
I just finished watching the second RING cycle in Seattle. And I must say Janice Baird is a phenomenon. Truly, I say, Janice Baird has the biggest soprano top notes I’ve ever heard, including Alessandra Marc and Debbie Voigt. Her voice is amazingly huge, beautiful and clear and she is a wonderful actress. Baird is able to manufacture a gigantic, focused sound on the order of Gwyneth Jones. She was on fire and she brought down the house. She reminds me too of Gwyneth Jones in her best years. A great improvement over Eaglen’s blowsy sound and lack of any performance. Stephanie Blythe’s voice is in certain parts massive (low notes), but you can’t compare a contralto sound with a soprano’s voice. The others were also very good. Stig Andersen doesn’t have the biggest voice around, but his death was very touching. The orchestra has its problems and Spano lets them play much too loud, with great balance problems within the sections. The stage direction is really too stiff and very old-fashioned for my taste. But this production is absolutely worth seeing and hearing – especially to experience Baird.
@1 Baird is an excellent Soprano, but I agree with Christopher here, she doesn’t have the range to properly convey Brunnhilde. The second act of Die Walkyure filled me with dread when she sang because she was so weak in the lower portions of her range. Her top is magnificent, so much that the third act was glorious for most of her singing.
The main problems I had were also the orchestra, as they sounded WAY OFF in the Rheingold, while they generally didn’t have the dramatic volume levels that the Ring has written in it. At times, they’ve drowned out the singers (which was especially easy to do to Stig and Janice).
Tired? The author gives no sense of how he thinks this production is tired. Does he just want to see a new production? This was a $10 million production to initially mount, and approx. $5 million each subsequent series. It’s not tired – it’s amazing. This is perhaps the best Ring in the world. It’s traditional and (mostly) faithful. There will always be directorial choices that we (individual audience members) disagree with. There are certainly some vocal issues such as Baird’s invisible low register, and Andersen’s. But on balance, it is transformative theater.
@1 While I think you are overly generous to compare Baird to Gwyneth Jones, I agree that Andersen made Siegfried’s death very moving.
@2 Your comment about the overly loud orchestra sent me back to dig up the floor plan of Bayreuth printed in Wagner’s Art Life Music. The orchestra sits very deep into the pit, much more so than in McCaw Hall.
@3 I meant tired in the sense of lackadaisical lighting cues, direction, casting of underpowered voices, and so forth. I hope I cited enough good things in my review to convey that this Ring was certainly transformative but it could have been much, much better, perhaps transcendent.