BBC PROMS 2025. Mahler's Third. August 11, 2025.

Royal Albert Hall, London, UK.  Rausing Circle V (Seat 4-156, 23 GBP.)

Final tuning before the start of Mahler 3rd.  Time stamp 7:01 pm.  Chorus members seated above the orchestra.

Program

Symphony No. 3 in D minor (1893-96) by Mahler (1860-1911).

Artists

Ryan Bancroft conductor

Beth Taylor mezzo-soprano

BBC National Orchestra of Wales

Members of the Orchestre National de Bretagne

CBSO (City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra) Children's Chorus

CBSO Youth Chorus

BBC National Chorus of Wales (upper voice) Adrian Partington chorus-master

If there was any light-heartedness in yesterday's program, today's program was all-business.  It takes a lot to put together a Mahler symphony, especially the Third, his longest, and probably the longest in the entire genre.  And I must say this ensemble pulled the piece off, mostly brilliantly at that.

My last (and only) encounter with the piece was in March 2023, Zubin Mehta conducting the Los Angeles Philharmonic.  I described that as a near-perfect evening.

How the first movement was performed was a bit concerning.  It didn't feel long (lasted about 30 minutes), which was a good sign.  However, while the orchestra's individual sections played well, I didn't think the movement as a whole had a lot of coherence or direction to it.  It was more like after this section played these lines then another section's played theirs.  Even though Mahler withdrew the "headings" of the individual movements, the title "Pan Awakes, Summer Marches In" has stuck with the listening audience, and except for the last arousing passage, the case cannot be fully made.

Things greatly improved from that point on.  The Program insists even though Mahler withdrew the "plot" of the symphony in later performances, we can still use those headings a guide to appreciate the music.  And that may explain why Mahler used Nietzsche in the fourth movement ("what night tells me"); in this movement "the subject is mankind's struggle to make sense of the world, its joy and its grief, as expressed enigmatically in Nietzsche's verses."  Indeed the middle movements (2 through 5) were all delivering some kind of message or statement, even though without the help of the headings they are probably difficult to elicit specifically.

Some sort of horn (posthorn?) was played from the back of the hall, which added a spatial dimension to the music.  The entire ensemble consisted of five different organizations.  The mezzo-soprano had only a brief appearance (well, brief is relative), but brought out the wistfulness in the fourth movement, and sang the unidentified disciple's conversation with Jesus at the last supper.  (The lyrics did mention Peter, so he could be the disciple in question.)  Mahler's original heading for this last movement was "What God tells me."

Our seats were considerably cheaper than those from last night, yet the acoustics was a lot better.  While the ensemble didn't get too loud (unlike my experience at Disney Hall), the music came across clearly.  I do not know how often the five organizations work together, but I was impressed by how "together" everything sounded.

My first photo at the end of the concert was 8:40 pm (so symphony duration was close to 100 minutes, listed as 96 min in Program).  Beth Taylor (mezzo-soprano) and Ryan Bancroft on the left.  The other two gentlemen probably from the other ensembles.

This blog entry was completed on Aug 21, a full ten days after the event itself.  I didn't have the time (more likely the concentration) to write up the last five concerts right afterwards, and thus could only record the simplest (or shallowest) of the observations I made.  Overall, however, there is no doubt that we enjoyed the concert as musical events than simply "events."  Should the opportunity arise, we would definitely do something similar.

BBC PROMS 2025. Edward Gardner Conducts the LPO. August 10, 2025.

Royal Albert Hall.  Second Tier (Seat 13-4, 52 GBP).

Program

The Oceanides, Op. 73 (1914) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

The Rose Lake - a song without words for orchestra (1991-3) by Tippett (1905-98).

Sheherazade (1903) by Ravel (1875-1937).

La mer - three symphonic sketches (1903-05) by Debussy (1862-1918).

With Greta, outside the Royal Albert Hall.

Artists

Aigul Akhmetshina, mezzo-soprano

London Philharmonic Orchestra, Alice Ivy-Pemberton, leader

We often heard mentions of BBC PROMS over the radio.  The impression we got was this is a very popular event, and tickets are difficult to come by.  Indeed the concerts are quite popular; however, except for first and last nights, and a few popular ones, tickets are usually available if booked early enough.

Our schedule was centered around the Bayreuth visit, so we could either do a couple of days before, or after our visit to Germany.  We ended up with tonight's and tomorrow night's concerts.  The process of buying tickets is one puts in the concert one wants tickets for some time before they become available for sale, and then it's a matter of confirming on the day the tickets are for sale.  We got the seats we wanted for this concert, but for tomorrow, we were allocated cheaper seats because of the concert's popularity.

Greta, our friend from college, joined us for the concert.  We had dinner in Chinatown before heading to Royal Albert Hall.

One can call this concert "water-themed."  Three of the compositions have bodies of water in their titles.  The more familiar Sheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov has "sea" in a couple its movements.  For this concert we heard the composition by Ravel, which does not have "sea" in the titles of the movements.  But the first movement does talk about sailing to Asia.

Royal Albert Hall has a capacity of more than 5,000 (seats and standing spaces), so I have some doubts about its acoustics.  Also, I was told that PROMS events are more "happenings" than concerts; people go more to attend PROMS than to enjoy a high caliber classical concert.

Photo taken at 7:18 pm (concert started at 7:30).  The Hall seats over 5000, including those standing at the ground level, and those in the upper level.  The "mushrooms" were installed to deaden the echo.  From web search it seems a new electronic sound system (with close to 400 speakers) was put in around 2019.  The Hall was built in 1871.

While some people may attend PROMS simply because they want to attend PROMS (admitted my reason for doing so), the two concerts I attended were both high caliber, and very enjoyable.  Both would acquit themselves well in Lincoln Center or Carnegie Hall, as points of reference.  The acoustics, however, were not great, at least for our seats in the Second Tier Left area.  We could see only perhaps 80% of the stage also.  Given where we were seated, we could stand up without disturbing other people, but we hesitated to do so as no one else seemed to be doing it.  Of course on the entire orchestra floor everyone stood.

Acoustics is a bit more interesting.  References I found on the web all say there is sound enhancement in the venue.  Which is reasonable given how cavernous the auditorium is.  But then why was the sound generally weak where we were seat?

We have listened to the London Philharmonic several times before, at least twice with Edward Gardner conducting.  I usually came away admiring the performances.  While I enjoyed this evening, I cannot honestly say I was overwhelmed.  My reaction was more "better than I expected as a first PROMS experience."  That could be due to my lack of preparation for the occasion.  For example, I didn't bother to read up on the pieces; although being on the road didn't make it easy to do so.  We did buy a Program (for 7 GBP), but right before the concert started, and more as a souvenir anyway.

I do want to make a few remarks about the pieces I heard, most are "factual" based on the Program (so more of a transcription then).  Oceanides is the term for water nymphs in Finnish and Greek mythology.  Sibelius was commissioned by organizers of a music festival in Connecticut, and did his last revisions while sailing to the United States. I would also say the piece is a lot brighter than the usual Sibelius work.  I had heard it a couple of times before.

Michael Tippett wrote The Rose Lake to be performed as a celebration of his 90th birthday.  By that time he was nearly completely blind from macular degeneration and cataracts, and struggled with the work which was composed between August 1991 and April 1993.  Considered to be his swan song, yet Tippett was still experimenting with "different colours" on the "composer's palette."  While the piece uses a large ensemble, the orchestra seldom played together; they played as soloists and ensembles instead.  There was a large complement of percussionists.   The most interesting percussion instrument is the rototom, which an array of "almost 40" (I lost count after 30) drums arrayed side-by-side.  The Program says the two players had to sprint back and forth during the performing, playing the notes from memory.  From one of the photographs I took, there were nine percussionists.

While the composition is a single movement, there are five "lake songs" and five interludes, bookended by an introduction and a coda.  All this inspired by a visit he made to Senegal and Lake Retba, where an alga produces a red pigment that absorbs light, resulting in a pink shine under the right conditions.  No, Tippett wasn't trying to describe this lake in his work, but rather to "attempt to capture in music the dappled interplay between water and light and colour, and to chart a progression dawn to dusk."  I can probably appreciate this in Monet's painting (or series of paintings), but frankly had problems imagining this while I was listening to the music.

For the record, this is the tempo marking provided in the Program: Medium fast - The Lake Begins to Sing (slow) - Fast - The Lake Song is Echoed from the Sky (slow) - Fast-Medium slow - The Lake is in Full Song (slow) - Medium slow-Medium fast - Medium slow - The Lake Song Leaves the Sky (slow) - Fast - The Lake Sings Itself to Sleep (Medium slow) - Medium fast.  (No guarantee that I copied them correctly, and not exactly organized as intro-song/interlude-coda either.)

Over the years I have heard in concert Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade many times, but Ravel's Sheherazade (French spelling?) only once.  The movements in this 17-minute work are 1. Asia, 2. The Enchanted Flute, and 3. The Indifferent one.  And the mezzo-soprano's voice is used to tell the story.  The poems were written by a Leon Leclere under the pseudonym Tristan Klingsor (must be some Wagnerian tie there).  The story itself as I learned it as a kid was simple enough, I am not sure I get that from reading the poems.

I must say I came away unimpressed.  The mezzo-soprano Akhmetshina has performed on many prestigious international opera houses, including the title role of Carmen at the Met a couple of years ago.  It had to be the acoustics at our seats that made her barely audible, which was really unfortunate.

My experience with La Mer ranges from boring to exciting.  When I heard it played by the LPO (with Gardner conducting), I recorded the music was brought out in the exact way it was described: From Dawn to Midday on the Sea, Play of the Waves, and Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea.  Even though I didn't read the Program before I listened this evening, I knew what the general outline was.  Yet it didn't come across as such.  The "failure" should properly be attributed to the listener, or maybe the hall acoustics should bear part of the blame.

List of percussion instruments specified for Tippett's The Rose Lake.

I counted 9 percussionists (no one at the timpani, although they are in the list above).  Note the array of roto tams in the back, with two percussionists.

Dismantling the roto tams during intermission.

Aigul Akhmetshina singing Ravel's Sheherazade.

Concert ended at around 9:30 pm.

Despite all my misgivings, both Anne and I came away thinking it was a good experience, and we looked forward to the next evening's performance.  One will have to wait to see how we fared in that case.

Bayreuth Festival. Wagner's Parsifal. August 8, 2025.

Bayreuth Festival Theater.  Parkett Left (Seat 16-7, 301 euros).

Curtain Call.  From left: (skipping over those I don't recognize) Kundry double; Gurnermanz; Kundry; Heras-Casado; Chorus Master; Amfortas.  Missing: Klingsor.

Conductor - Pablo Heras-Casado.  Amfortas - Michael Volle, Titurel - Tobias Kehrer, Gurnemanz -Georg Zeppenfeld, Parsifal - Andreas Schager, Klingsor - Jordon Shanahan, Kundry - Ekaterina Gubanova.

This was the third and last of the performances for us this Wagner Festival.  In a way this was most faithful retelling of the seven operas I have seen over these two years.  (Spoiler alert) The only twist was the grail was dropped, and shattered, at the end of the opera - I will come back to that later.

The opera staging started with a set I can't quite explain.  It's supposed to be the sanctuary of the Holy Grail in Montsalvat.  What we had was a few thin columns, and an odd-shaped larger column.  One technique deployed for this opera is the projection of a video image of the singers on stage.  Sometimes a cameraman was seen on stage doing the filming.  Given Act 1 was dialog-heavy, there wasn't much visual activity in it.  This production chooses to concentrate on Amfortas's wound, which kept bleeding in the video despite the attention it was given.  For some action sequences the video was undoubtedly in real time.  There were many other segments where I couldn't imagine where the camera would be located.

On the physical stage, Amfortas was lying next to the large column, with Kundry's double trying to stem the blood flow, sewing the wound up, and bandaging it up.  Yes, there was a Kundry double - similar costume, but different hair color (Kundry's was half white and half black initially).  And Parsifal had a double also; his task was to scale down the wall when he first entered the scene; and that was it as far as I can remember.  Kundry's double showed up throughout the opera.

The narrations offered by the various singers have different segments in them.  For instance, Gurnermanz would describe topics such as why Amfortas was wounded and how Klingsor castrated himself; and Kundry told Parsifal about his history, including how his parents died.  It is impossible for me to remember the order of the narrations, so except for a few particular dramatic moments, I couldn't tell them apart.  The Act lasted 1 hour 40 minutes.  I managed to stay focused, and at times fascinated. Parsifal was banished by Gurnermanz because he didn't understand the message; by that measure I suspect many in the audience would be banished also, I know I would be.

At some point the covered grail was brought out.  The grail bearer sat on the stage with the grail steady in his hand for an impressive long time (perhaps 30 minutes?).  The grail was revealed to be a rhombus-shaped crystal which was eventually dropped and shattered (that would be Act 3), one can attribute all kinds of meaning to that, a popular one seems to be ecological: that the mining of rare earth material eventually would lead to destruction.

By comparison, Act 2 is action-filled.  In the span of a little over an hour, the audience is introduced to Klingsor, who leaves no doubt he is the devil with a horned helmet (where are the scholars who would tell us Klingsor is not evil, but simply a product of his circumstances); flower maidens enticing Parsifal; the seduction by Kundry; and, when Parsifal suddenly realizes Amfortas's pain and understand compassion, how Kundry turns into pleading with Parsifal.  And the most dramatic scene: Klingsor throwing a spear at Parsifal, the spear is caught, and Klingsor is vanquished.  Well, the actual realization of this scene is a bit lame: the spear is being thrusted towards Parsifal, Kundry steps in front of it, and the spear is then held between her arm and body (meaning she is struck?), except this "trick" is clearly observed by many in the audience.  It's not even clear whether Kundry is supposed to be wounded or killed by this action as she continued to be on stage for the rest of the opera.  Other productions I saw usually use the "flash effect" and have the spear magically appear in Parsifal's hands.

Back to Klingsor, the devil evidently lives in an oven with pink flashes projected onto the walls, but with a pink suit he looks more comical than scary.  The flower maiden scene was more grotesque than sensual.  There are flowers hanging from the ceiling, and the flower maidens do what flower maidens do, mostly.  However, there is a headless body on stage, and a dead man leaning against the wall  - his heart was pulled out at some point (forget by whom, most probably by Parsifal).  In this Act Kundry's double was on a lot, lying on the ground while Kundry sings.  Titurel was brought out, rolled into the water, and stood up a healed person; he started the show as a near-death pruney old man.

Act 3 easily takes the cake in terms of being different from what it should look like.  We first have a rather dystopian scene of a run-down armored tank (for lack of a better description) that featured prominently on stage, next to the ubiquitous body of water (oh, didn't I mention that?).  There is little debate that Wagner's intention was to have the story end on the climax of the unification of the spear with the grail.  I forget what happened to the spear, but the grail was definitely shattered.  And what was the woman doing with a machine gun (AK47 per some reviews)?  Indeed I am not sure what the ending means in the new production; is there any redemption involved?  (Admittedly as I complete this blog entry many days later I have forgotten much of what happened, especially parts for which I didn't write down any notes.)

Fanfare announcing the start of Act 3.

Screen shots from Bayreuth website.  Parsifal and Gurnemanz, possibly Parsifal being banished.

Klingsor was more comedic than evil.

Flower maidens seducing Parsifal.

Kundry's shirt has "Forget me" written on it.  At some point Parsifal wore a shirt saying "Remember me."  Reviewers are scratching their heads as to what this means.

Dystopian set for Act 3.  Video of Kundry double (foreground) projected onto secreen.

Amfortas's wound was never healed.

The ring of fluorescent lights refer to the knights of the holy grail?

I have stated in this blog multiple times that I don't like to read reviews before a performance.  For all the Bayreuth operas I violated that rule; indeed I read a few reviews beforehand, and re-read some of them before completing this entry.  Most of the reviews spent more than half the write-ups on the Augmented Reality available to about 300 attendees (out of about 2000), and most reviewers ended up scratching the heads as to why, or what AR added to the performance.  I opted not to try to get those seats (more expensive, and I wear glasses which may make the experience cumbersome).

Perhaps that's the idea, my encounter with the production isn't what I expected, good or bad.  Again, the question I had for the first blog entry in this series was how Wagner would react.  I am sure he would appreciate the singing, and perhaps the acting, but not so sure he would agree with the "twisted" interpretation of the dramatic aspects.  Wagner was the one who coined the term "gesamtkunstwerk," which I take to mean more than just the musical aspects of the products.

Now, without the grail to protect the knights would have no reason to hang around Montsalvat, and we won't have Lohengrin coming from that "organization."  The directors of the two operas should talk a bit more with one another.  New stories are problematic enough, but breaking any linkage between operas is catastrophic.  (Some hyperbole here.)

I have about a week to decide if I will try for next year's Festival.  I am considering Rienzi and The Flying Dutchman.  Too bad Tristan and Isolde has been dropped for that season.  I will miss seeing all of Wagner's operas at Bayreuth (the ones that are regularly staged there anyway), but will have seen all of his operas.  If we go, that is.

Bayreuth Festival. Wagner's Lohengrin. August 6, 2025.

Bayreuth Festival Theater.  Parkett Links (Seat 13-7, 301 euros).

End of performance.  From left: Elsa in orange dress, Thielemann, Chorus master, Lohengrin, Ortrud, Telramund.  The green man on the right is Gottfried.

Conductor - Christian Thielemann.  Heinrich der Vogler - Mika Kares, Lohengrin - Piotr Beczala, Elsa von Brabant - Elza van den Heever, Friedrich von Telramund - Olafur Sigurdarson, Ortrud - Miina-Liisa Varela, Der Heerrufer des Konigs - Michael Kupfer-Radecky.

Compared to Meistersinger, Lohengrin is an action-packed opera.  One has a damsel in distress (if one can still say that after Meistersinger), a hero brought in by a swan, and a sword fight where the winner spares the life of the loser.  All that in a 60-minute Act 1.  My first impression after Act 1, however, was that things were unfolding rather slowly - a view not shared by Anne, for the record.  The synopsis for this opera from the Met Opera's website is not even one page long.

The second impression was this had a good dose of comedy written in it, which I am sure wasn't what the production team intended (or at least I hope not).  How else would you explain this mock-up of a power station, or why they tried to kill Elsa by burning her while tied to a couple of insulators, with the firewood being lit by an electric blue torch?  One would think electrocution would be more appropriate in such a setting (it's a comedy, so I am not being macabre).  With the exception of Lohengrin, everyone has a pair of wings, to represent a crowd's tendency to swarm as a group (somewhere I read).  A boxing ring was set up for the fight between Lohengrin and Telramund, which was clever.  As the crowd began to gather, they completely blocked the view of the ring.  Just as I was wondering how we could see the fight, the two (doubles no doubt) were brought in while suspended and fought; that was even more clever.  The fight was over when Lohengrin broke off one of Telramund's wings.  Anne thought it was funny, I thought it was comical.  Lohengrin became one of "them" when they put a pair of wings on him.  The long wings made him more a cicada, though.

In Act 2 Scene 1 the staging was mostly shadows projected onto a screen, with Elsa peeking out of a tower window during her dialog with Ortrud.  As in this production the two women are the only two survivors at the end, I was sure they became lovers at the end of the Scene.  Jumping to the end of the opera, they were indeed the ones that survived, but there were no hints they were in love.  The Program Notes has an article, worthy of a high school honors paper, written by two authors that attempts to analyze the opera's characters with a "poststructuralist lens."  (Yes, it took two authors.)  They believe it's possible Ortrud is the mother of Elsa and Gottfried, and Ortrud casts the spell on Gottfried because he is too belligerent.  Their case is bolstered by the fact that after Gottfried comes back, he immediately leads a military campaign against the Hungarians.

Fanfare announcing the start of Act 2.

Curtain call end of Act 2.  Lohengrin's costume borders on ridiculous.

In the wedding scene at the end of Act 2 flower petals were being strewn on the bridal path.  All the women had their hands tied, and many were pushed around by the male attendants.  Another depiction of women as chattel?  Come to think of it, Elsa was tied up multiple times, including Act 3 Scene 1.  She did manage to rid herself of these bondages, though.  In a later scene some lighted wings were brought onto the stage - they definitely looked like flies to me.

Such puzzling aspects abound in the opera.  I am sure the sharp observer (or someone who reads up on the production) understands or even appreciates many of them.  However, I must say that no rational explanation can be given for the ending scene: Lohengrin disappears, Ortrud and Elsa standing - apart, and all the other folks die after being struck by lightning (or something similarly catastrophic, I can't tell).  A case of writers don't quite know how to finish their story - I will stand corrected if I find out otherwise.

This production is often called the "blue Lohengrin" because that's the predominant color used in the sets and costumes.  The notable exceptions are Lohengrin and Elsa in Act 3 with orange being the color.  Elsa's stays orange for the rest of the opera, Lohengrin reverts to blue.  And then Gottfried is green; go figure.  (Well, some important person in the production team sees Gottfried as green, so that must be so.)

Is it the production teams intention to put all these questions in the audience's mind?  To the extent I spend time on them, they surely have succeeded.  The downside is the drama is mostly gone, the story turns into a comedy of sorts.

And worst of all, it takes away one's appreciation of the brilliant singing and music.  And they did do so brilliantly.

Some screen shots from Bayreuth website.  The setting is a power station.

This production was premiered in the 2018 season, and Beczala stepped in as Roberto Alagna's replacement, to great acclaim.  I imagine he has an appreciation of how this opera has helped him become the international star he is today.  We saw him at the Met in this role.  The setting and story were more traditional; he did well there also.  And we could follow the story, both the libretto (English translation provided) and the story.

Lohengrin is relatively short by Wagner standards at about 3 1/2 hours.  In addition to the great music, the story was also reasonably straightforward - despite the attempts at confusion by the production.  As a result I managed to stay focused for most the opera.

Bayreuth Festival. Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg. August 5, 2025.

Bayreuth Festival Theater.  Left Parkett (Seat 28-9, 287 euros).

Curtain Call, Meistersinger von Nurmberg.

Daniele Gatti - conductor.  Hans Sachs - Georg Zeppenfeld, Veit Pogner - Jongmin Park, Sixtus Beckmesser - Michael Nagy, Walther von Stolzing - Michael Spyres, David - Matthias Stier, Eva - Christin Nilsson, Magdalene - Christa Mayer, Ein Nachtwachter - Tobias Kehrer.

After last year's rather interesting (and generally positive) experience with seeing Wagner's Ring at Bayreuth, we decided to give it another try this years.  Getting tickets was reasonably straightforward, and we got the three performances we wanted to see.  

When I watched a Met Opera on Demand performance of this opera, I was sure without the help of English surtitles I would be very lost, as the story (especially Act I) moves forward rather slowly.  (For a 4 1/2 hour opera, the synopsis is only about two pages long.)  I am happy to report I could get the broad outline without any problems.  Of course every now and then I had to re-sync what was happening on stage with what I remember of the synopsis; but that I expected.  I also lost concentration (just shy of dozing off) at the beginning of Act 3 when different people showed up at Sachs's workshop - that part actually was reasonably straightforward to follow.

A little about the sets, some of which was explained in the Program Book we bought for the opera (9 euros).  The geometric shapes employed in the three sets were triangles, squares (or perhaps rectangles), and circles.  Triangles are often used to represent deities, and the setting for the very first scene is a church.  The long stair case (30 plus steps) presented some degree of difficulty for those that were not that mobile, but no one slipped (whew!).  Not sure why the church located at the top had to collapse at the end of the scene, given things didn't get any sacrilegious.  The set was then rotated to show a classroom, or the seats in a concert hall; there the rules of Meistersinging (my word) were described.  Instead of Beckmesser using chalk to mark the mistakes Walther made, he made some soft sounds later revealed to be "nein's" marked on several scrolls.  Act 2 was the setting of a village square, although what struck me was how much it evoked Disney's It's a Small World.  Act 3 Scene 1 is Sachs's workshop, enclosed in a circular wall (dubbed the "oval office" by Bayreuth staff).  For the final scene, the wall was removed, and an inverted inflated cow was lowered from the ceiling.  Instead of guilds marching onto the scene, we got more an image of a village fair (your mileage may vary).  The setting is splashed all over the material describing the opera production, and contrasts greatly with the rest of the sets.  Perhaps by design; a bonus is that I didn't have to squint to see what was happening.

The singing and acting were both outstanding.  Sachs had a lot of singing to do here, so he undoubtedly paced himself quite carefully, and thus sometimes didn't match the volume of the other principals.  To be fair, there were times he did brilliantly on the volume front.  What was surprising was that the character lost his temper at least once, when he was upset at either Elsa or Walther (I forget) for something, probably not appreciating what's in front of them.  Not that I am a Meistersinger expert, but in this production an intentional effort was to make Sachs more "human" than heroic.  Zeppenfeld (Sachs) will also sing the role of Gurnemanz in Parsifal, that makes pacing himself even more important.

Brass fanfare before the start of Act 3.

Principals of the performance.  From left.  Person in black suit is the chorus master Thomas Eitler de Lint, Nightwatchman (in red), Walther, Eva, Gatti, Sachs, David, Magdalene, Veit Pogner and Beckmesser.

The opera has three major issues with today's audience.  First is how in the past Beckmesser is often a caricature of a Jew.  One can argue - given his reputation - whether that's how Wagner intended it, but the issue is easily remedied by proper stage directions.  Indeed I have never encountered a production where this was even hinted at (admittedly I have seen only three).  The other two issues are the proclamation that German art is supreme, and that how can someone give away a woman as a prize.  That is the reason behind the cow hanging over the stage in the last scene.  Indeed they do auction cows at country fairs (in the US anyway), so perhaps in Germany as well?  Both issues are solved by Walther refusing to accept the title of Meistersinger, and walking out with Elsa on her father.  Fair enough, except the libretto doesn't quite support their action.  As with my experience with the Ring last year, it is advantageous not to understand a word that's sung.  Compare to the Ring, the new story only involves a small amount of disconnect.  Would Wagner approve these modifications?  The last question is applicable to all three operas we saw this year.

By the way, that Walther walked out after winning the contest probably explains why there are no more Meistersingers in Nuremberg (groan).

I didn't know what to expect from today's performance.  It turned out to be a rather good experience.  My greatest worry was that I would get terribly lost with the plot.  Perhaps I was, but it didn't matter at all.

These photos are downloaded from the Bayreuth webiste.  Here is the "mad" scene towards the end of Act 2.

The "oval office" that is Sachs's workshop.

The Meistersingers demonstrate the rules of the competition.

Sachs and Eva.

We got into Bayreuth at about 2 pm this afternoon, and managed to check into the hotel (standard check-in is 3 pm).  We got a bit of rest before walking to the Festival Hall.  It was close to 11 pm when we got back.

This entry is being finalized on 8/17, after we returned to NJ.  There are another four waiting to be posted.  This may explain the incomplete nature of the entries.

Metropolitan Opera on Demand. Wagner's Lohengrin. Watched July 31, 2025.

Performance Date: January 10, 1986.

Conductor - James Levine; Lohengrin - Peter Hofmann, Elsa - Eva Marton, Telramund - Leif Roar, Ortrud - Leoni Rysanek, King Heinrich - John Macurdy.

For the record, the run times of the three acts are approximately: 1:10 hours, 1:25 hours, and 1:10 hours.

Metropolitan Opera on Demand. Wagner's Parsifal. Watched July 30, 2025.

Performance Date: March 28, 1992.

Conductor - James Levine; Amfortas - Bernd Weikl, Kundry - Waltraud Meier, Klingsor - Franz Mazura, Parsifal - Siegfried Jerusalem, Gurnemanz - Kurt Moll.

The three acts are of durations: 100, 70 and 70 minutes (approximate).