Had musical standards, under the supreme baton of Antonio Pappano and starring the bass baritone Bryn Terfel as the cobbler-poet Hans Sachs, not been so bristling, alive and compelling, it might have succeeded. This Meistersinger has the look of an airless art deco mausoleum, a place in which to bury obsolete traditions with maximum ritual and, if you have the courage, face up to change.
They never overwhelmed the singers. What a communal effort. Choruses resounded, the great quintet blazed, the Prize Song deserved that winning title. But who are the characters, where are they, what story are they telling? If a staging answers these questions, there is hope that the audience will follow.
By Act 2, long before the riot which closes that act, the compass was spinning. By the third and last, the set was revolving too, albeit in very slo-mo. Tradition by now is an empty husk, the song contest central to the plot mere pageantry. Holten thinks hard and with care. His time at the Royal Opera has been an exhilarating gallop. His seriousness and amiability are not in doubt. There are moments in this Meistersinge r of such integrity that the insuperable problems of the staging almost retreat.
There is, however, no reference at the Royal Opera House to Nazis or antisemitism. The opera was premiered in , Germany unified as an empire in Costumes are generic modern. Magdalene Hanna Hipp , enchanting but occluded by the staging wears a headset in her role as events manager.
With towering floral displays, plinths, dining tables with glassware, candles and starched napery, the stage is clogged.
