Day 1: Bayreuth

Time for bed shortly. I haven't slept in 36 hours and am exhausted.

Lunch was a pair of Bayreuther Bratwurst. Very nice. Two long, thin sausages in a kaiser (heh) roll. Sort of a breakfast sausage flavor, but nicely crisped casing and pleasantly juicy interior. I'll have to remind myself German food includes more than just sausage.

Shortly after eating I made my way to the Festspeilhaus. Beautiful, if surprisingly spare structure set in a tastefully lanscaped park on a hill on the periphery of town. The Haus is enormous by the standards of anything but the Met, so it will feel quite intimate by my standards. The Haus also has a distinctive "hidden orchestra" design, so the seats extend nearly to the lip of the stage. 

Aside: This is a good time for a little background on the festival for the philistines among you, and how I came to be a participant. Wagner wrote his masterpiece, the four-opera "cycle" Der Ring des Nibelungen, over about twent years, racking up debts (and sometimes fleeing his lenders) until he met his benefactor, Ludwig II of Bavaria. Wagner, as a genius egomaniac, had the idea that an unprecedentedly massive opera house must be built, solely for the performance of these works. Ludwig, thankfully, complied, enabling the completion of the tetralogy. Thus, the first full performance of the Ring Cycle occurred on the ver stage in 1876, and with some interruptions, has been annual affair since the late 19th century. 

Currently, tickets are extremely hard to come by, with many waiting 10 years on a lottery system before having their chance. Many others pay inordinate sums of money to join a Wagner society or the Gesellschaft der Freunde Von Bayreuth. Luckily, I learned of the Jugen Fruende (not to be confused with Juden Freunde), which has a membership fee of a mere €100 and a chance of tickets to a full dress rehearsal (indistinguishable from a regular performance) at no additional charge. 

My assumption as that this would take at least a year to bare fruit. To my surprise, tickets were offered for Die Walkure and Siegfried, the second and third installments of the tetralogy, with the potential to receive both, pending demand. Wagner wrote many operas that are performed at Bayreuth, many of them brilliant, but I was exceedingly lucky that Die Walkure, my favorite, was offered my first year trying.  

Wagner, against his will, was forced by Ludwig II to stage previews of Das Rheingold and Die Walkure in Munich before the full Cycle had been completed. Therefore, it cannot be said that Die Walkure debuted on that specific stage, though Siegried did. Die Walkure (as well as Tristan und Isolde and Das Rheingold) debuted at the Bayern Staatsoper in Munich, where I will visit for a performance of Mozart's Le Nozze do Figaro in a few days. 

I picked up my ticket at the Gesselschaft office. Looks like my only outfit, polo shirt, sneakers and khakis, will be fine, as people are dressed in everything from shorts and sandals to tuxes. I probably fall somewhere in the middle. 

My seat is lousy. The vast majority of seats are in an auditorium layout, so it's hard to get a La Scala-esque partial view seat. Somehow mine is the exception, as I am in a gallerie seat in the back, right behind a support pillar. Luckly the seat next to mine was vacant and I was able to take the free upgrade to an unobstructed view. Dodged a bullet. 

The lights dimmed and the orchestra began with the very familiar storm vorspiel. It was immediately clear that the acoustics were as good as advertised, with a vivid sound and pristine legato notes. The orchestra was also playing very well; a somewhat fast tempo and masterly playing, with the storm waxing and waning rhythmically in a way I admit it does not under Maestro Levine's baton.

The production is, as expected, dumb. I understand the temptation for producers to add their own stamp and vision, but why convoluted, sophomoric political allegories still find their way to the stage is beyond me. It's one thing if the production is too challenging and provocative for a conservative audience, but this kind of stuff just seems likely something a college freshmen threw together, lazily, hours before the due date. This production makes a theme of the oil industry, and Die Walkure, the second installment, is set in something inspired by Baku, Azerbaijan during its oil boom. Events unfold largely as they're supposed to, but the production insists on including a stupid touch in each act, for example, a gaggle of red protestors being gassed during the Ride of the Valkyries. Worse, the production seems to fail to understand the merits of the actual, as written, opera, and has a tendency to push distractions during some of the most tender, emotionally engaging moments. 

Luckily, it doesn't matter. The orchestra, singers and acoustics are all great, and when Wagner is played well, nothing can ruin it. This is the greatest music ever written (I say this without hyperbole). There could be a circus act on stage, but when Wotan and Brunnhilde have their final scene, the music is almost paralyzingly beautiful. When the curtain falls, the listener sits, speechlessly, and then slowly makes their way outside, overcome by the power of the music and nearly stupefied. It's that good.

 Afterwards I made my way over to Restaurant Lamondi, a mediocre pan-asian restaurant where the Jugen Freunde are meeting for food and drinks. As far as I can tell, virtually all of the other Freunde are German. We engaged in slightly strained conversation over a few massive weisse dunkels, and then called it a night.