...zum Raum wird hier die Zeit —

last Friday night was Parsifal in the Metropolitan Opera, and I can't remember how many times I've seen the work... Still it remains wonderfully satisfying, five (on this occasion closer to six) hours of spiritual renewal and greatest beauty (there are indeed those who find here only tedium and bellowing, but that's to be expected...)

I saw Parsifal for the first time at Bayreuth in 1976, and since then I go every chance I get. The one time I didn't enjoy Parsifal was at the Met some thirty years ago, the first time James Levine tried to conduct the thing, an evening redeemed/rescued only by Christa Ludwig, Martti Talvela and John Dexter.

and in the days since last Friday's premiere of the new production, I have read the reviews, and found them mostly fair and aware—and they leave me without much to add. Katarina Dalayman did very well as Kundry, both vocally and dramatically. And yes, you can tell that René Pape and Jonas Kaufmann come from different ends of Germany... And yes indeed, René Pape is a splendid and magnificent Gurnemanz, although not the only one—the excellent Korean basso Kwangchul Youn, last Easter in the Vienna Staatsoper, was every bit as fine. I thought having Titurel off in the distance someplace instead of singing from the box wasn't bad, and I suffered every moment of Amfortas's anguish with the brilliant Peter Mattei. And to remember last Easter in Vienna once more, the Staatsoper staged the very fine actor Wolfgang Bankl as a porno-film director in the role of self-emasculated sorcerer Klingsor. That was a great stroke of theatre, and I found that the Met's Act II wallowed on stage just a bit by comparison. In blood, of course, but no less a wallow. And nothing really special about the infamous Mr Nikitin.

the production was indeed dismal & drear—and meant to be; this didn't do any significant damage to the opera, because Parsifal is not a drama—more of a mystery-play—and therefore less problematic to stage than the Bayreuth master's other grand orgasmatrons. The text is very sober and gripping; it almost entirely lacks the tortured and bloated hysteria of old Wagner's poetry in the four Ring operas...

Daniele Gatti's touch with the stick pleased me greatly, and this orchestra is certainly the best in town.

and the only part of the evening I found truly disturbing was the very beginning. If there is more sublime music in our Western culture than the prelude to Parsifal, I haven't heard it yet. I felt it a colossal distraction to see folks arranging themselves on stage during this profound manifestation of the musically spiritual.