The Muses Reign: the Staatsoper

It was so nice to go to an opera tonight where the singers were fat In the new world of international opera, being slender is important so the singer attracts physically, not just vocally. However, a singer who slims down can lose some of the warm tone that makes a voice spectacular. "I'll take a singer with a few pounds around the diaphragm over a thin singer any day", a conductor once told me.

The audience at tonight's performance at the Staatsoper of the Dresden version of Wagner's "Tannhauser" had the opportunity to evaluate the truth of that in minute detail during the four hour performance, which began at six p.m. Bertrand de Billy, the French conductor, led an ensemble of Peter Seiffert in the title role, irene Theorin making her Statsoper debut as Venus, Petra Maria Schnitzer as Elizabeth, and French baritone Ludovic Tezier as Wolfram. There was a real Tannhauser, a poet-courtier at the court of Frederick II of Austria from 1230-1246. He may have been a Teutonic knight who fought in the Fifth Crusade from 1223-1231. His legend became part of Western European culture in 1430, and by 1450 ballads were being written about his trip to the Venusberg, the subterranean home of the goddess Venus, with whom he lived a year.

Wagner's opera begins with Tannhauser begging Venus to release him from the Venusberg, where he has come to tire of venereal pleasures and long for Eisenach, his homeland . Venus lets him go and Tannhauser returns to Eisenach and the fellowship of his fellow "minnesingers" --minstrel-poets-- where he is reunited with Elizabeth, a pure and good young woman who loved him. Upon his return to Eisenach and meeting with Elizabeth Tannhauser realizes he must atone for the sins he committed in the Venusberg. He makes a pilgrimage to Rome, but his effort at atonement is rebuffed by Pope Urban IV, who says Tannhauser could no more atone than his pilgrim's staff could sprout green leaves. Despairing, returning to Eisenach again, he tells Wolfram, another "minnesinger" that he will return to the Venusberg. He then learns that Elizabeth, who never condemned him and who prayed for his redemption, has died. As he cries out "Holy Elizabeth, pray for me!"--green leaves sprout on his pilgrim's staff, a confirmation of his redemption.

The opera was originally staged in medieval dress. The opera's plot is all very oblique unless you are interested in the folklore and mythology of the German-speaking peoples, which few of us are. Thus, it would seem that Tannhauser could not be a compelling evening of opera excepting for the presence of a star singer. I have sat through performances of Tannhauser at the Metropolitan Opera and fought to keep my eyes open. Tonight's performance gave the lie to all that, for several reasons, in addition to the casting

First, the Staatsoper is a small theatre, about one thousand seats. (The Metropolitan Opera has four thousand.) It is a beautiful opera house, destroyed by Allied bombs during the Second World War, but rebuilt immediately after. The stage is small enough not to dwarf singers, and conversely, when you have a singer the size of Peter Seiffert, with a voice accompanied by singers his vocal equals, it makes for an extraordinary evening.

Peter Seiffert must be six feet six and two hundred and fifty pounds. I have seen him before, and at this date he weighs more than he ever has. A handsome man with a mane of dark brown hair who smiles easily when taking his bows and meeting fans at the stage door he is a friendly, expansive man. His voice is that of a "heldentenor" --the biggest voice in the tenor range. It is clear and bright, still youthful although Seiffert is fifty-seven. In contrast, the beautiful and melancholy voice of Ben Heppner, the Canadian "heldentenor" a year younger than Seiffert, has begun to show signs of wear, leading to sudden withdrawal from performance commitments made years in advance. Seiffert, in contrast, is blessed to have such a healthy instrument.

Heppner and Seiffert are both big men, as "heldentenors" and Wagnerian sopranos usually are. --Seeing Heppner sing Tristan to Deborah Voigt as Isolde before she lost weight was like seeing two hippotamuses stand up on their hind legs and touch paws-- but Seiffert is even taller than Heppner. He would dominate any stage, but at the Staatsoper, he bestrides the boards like a Colossus. The production, in nineteenth century dress, is spare, featuring members of the chorus dressed as "Blackfriars" --Augustinian monks processing in pilgrimage---- beating themselves on the back with cords of rope in atonement for their sins. The medieval Augustinian monastery in Vienna is not far from the Staatsoper, so the reference would not be lost on much of the audience.

Another reason the Staatsoper is so enjoyable to attend is the way the audience conducts itself: Viennese go to the opera in their best clothes, which are nicer than most. The theatre sounds no chimes to tell operagoers there are only a ten minutes, then seven minutes, then four, as at the Metropolitan Opera, and there seem to be enough bathrooms not to make for anxious moments on the line. Seats in the highest tiers are not terribly expensive, and just as comfortable as in the parterre. Those behind the front row in the balconies have arm rests, and it is not considered bad manners to rest one's arms on the red velvet rest, which is a comfortable perch from which to see the stage. Opera glasses that actually work are rentable for two euros, and while the programs cost a few euros, it is also possible to buy just the brochure with production and cast credits --a nice souvenir.

There does not seem to be a bad seat in the house, which is white and gold, with the house lights conisting of an enormous lamp made of thousands of crystals affixed to the ceiling, and pairs of tulip-shaped lamps affixed to the front of every box at every tier of the house.

Despite the formality of their dress, the Viennese are enthusiastic in their appreciation of great singing. An individual tenor, baritone or bass particularly beloved by the Staatsoper public can be designated a "Kammersanger", while sopranos, mezzos. can be "Kammersangerin". A title originally conferred by kings and princes in German-speaking Europe, it is an honorific given a distinguished singer.

What really proves how devoted the Viennese are to the opera is the length of time of the applause at the end of "Tannhauser". The audience stayed and applauded the cast for twenty minutes. Several bouquets of flowers were thrown Peter Seiffert's way, as well as when Petra Maria Schnitzer came out. The crowd of opera fans politely waiting at the stage door were all dressed soberly and no one seemed to have a screw loose, which has not been my experience at opera stage doors past, although tonight I did meet a woman who told me that she had lobbied successfully to have hunting declared part of Austria's cultural heritage by UNESCO.