Die Walküre, Hamburger Staatsoper, 3 April 2011

We now come out of the clouds, away from Tolkien-on-steroids to a more human story, about the redeeming power of love, the pain of loss, and the devastation caused by greed.

At the beginning we see the rectangular platform on which the rock and bed were placed in Rheingold. This time we see a kitchen sink and table, and on the side of the platform is a big, red on-off switch. Why?

We find out in the second act, when we see a model of the kitchen in Wotan’s office. The power switch is for his use; everything that happened in Act I, the encounter between his children Sieglinde and Siegmund, is at Wotan’s instigation. Guth has used the sets and the business to bring out this point, on which the whole storyline turns. Wotan has placed his hopes for recovery of the Ring on Siegmund, but Siegmund cannot do it, because he is Wotan’s puppet, not a free agent. Bound by his honour, Wotan has to cut Siegmund loose to meet his doom. Brünnhilde, Wotan’s daughter (and the Valkyrie of the title), disobeys her father and tries to protect Siegmund. So Wotan’s heart is twice broken, because he must punish his favourite child for her transgression against his honour.

The production worked consistently until Act III, when we found the Valkyries practicing martial arts in a reformatory dormitory. The martial arts made sense, but the reformatory? Perhaps another of Guth’s school memories?

Angela Denoke (Sieglinde) was just as compelling as when we saw her as Katya Kabanova in Paris. She has an intensity of presence and a command of her whole body, acting gifts that are reasonably rare among opera singers. Christian Franz sang Siegmund, in addition to the Siegfrieds he is to sing later in the week (in Siegfried and Götterdämmerung). This isn’t usually done, because each of the three parts is a tough sing. Franz was a bit out of voice, and tried a lyrical approach to ‘Winterstürme’, but it sounded merely underpowered. Alexander Tsymbalyuk followed up Friday’s Fafner with a beautifully sung Hunding, and Katarina Dalayman (Brünnhilde) sang a strong ‘Hojotoho’ (a tough tune to start your night with), and her announcement to Siegmund of his impending death was enthralling.

But the star of the show was Falk Struckmann. His voice is not the prettiest, but he gets all the notes and is expressive. In Act III he was thrilling, giving it everything – perhaps too much. Suddenly there were missed high notes, either not reached or avoided by taking a lower alternative. Either he had strained his voice or he had a rogue piece of phlegm on his vocal cords.

This is where opera is like sport – everyone is on the edge of their seat, wondering if he will pull off the spectacular coup he needs to finish. The end of Walküre is a fifteen minute scene where Wotan farewells his daughter and sets the ring of fire around her, one of the most moving pieces of music in all opera. Somehow Struckmann got there without cracking, with all the expression and feeling the music calls for. When he stepped out for his solo curtain call the place went crazy. There is an energy in the audience that you don’t usually get at the opera; perhaps it’s a Ring thing, where we all go on a journey together over a week. It should be bedlam when the cycle finishes on Sunday night.