This was a superb, thrilling performance, chiefly thanks to James Levine and his amazing orchestra – he got a tremendous reception before the opera started, an expression of the admiration and affection of the audience; but he and we in the cinema should be spared the sight of his conducting, now a matter of limited gestures and unlimited facial expressions. He timed the whole work more sensitively than I have ever heard it before, so that there were almost no longueurs, which is a remarkable feat.
Choosing the, or more accurately a Paris version, even Levine couldn’t prevent the opening scene between Venus and Tannhäuser being tedious. It’s so much the worst operatic music Wagner wrote that it’s almost interesting, but really it sounds just like an interminable row between two dull people who are getting on one another’s nerves but can’t let go.
By contrast, the Venusberg music in the Paris version is the most repulsive and astounding music Wagner wrote, and makes one wonder why Richard Strauss, Scriabin etc.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in