The stunt involving a fire-spitting stilt walker that went awry at last week's dress rehearsal for Lyric Opera's new production of "Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg" threatened to steal the thunder from the show itself. That it did not was a tribute to the strength of casting and superiority of the performances that marked the welcome return of Wagner's richly human comedy of manners to the local repertory after 14 years, Friday night at the Civic Opera House.
Few more daunting challenges exist in the operatic literature than "Meistersinger." The work places severe musical and dramatic demands on a huge cast, orchestra, chorus and even the audience itself, given the running time of 5½ hours. But with Andrew Davis pacing the musical flow with great sensitivity in the pit, the vast majority of Friday's audience seemed to have no trouble adjusting their internal clocks to WST (Wagner Standard Time). The German composer's heartwarming paean to the power of great art to bring together, and even ennoble, an entire community seemed as timely as ever.
Scholars continue to debate whether Wagner enshrined his anti-Semitism in his depiction of the pedantic town clerk Beckmesser, although much of the controversy centers around the performance history of "Meistersinger" during the Third Reich, when it was Hitler's favorite opera. The "problem" of the cobbler-poet Hans Sachs' final hymn to unsullied German art, which the Nazis used to proclaim their triumphal vision of German nationalism, has become grist for the mill mainly of German opera directors whose overtly political stagings have been the rage at Bayreuth and other European theaters in recent years.
Scottish director David McVicar, whose production Lyric is sharing with the Glyndebourne Festival Opera and San Francisco, prefers not to wade into those muddy waters. Faithfully recreated by revival director Marie Lambert, his staging is "radical" enough to reclaim "Meistersinger" as the very human story Wagner intended it to be, bringing out the humor and approachability of Wagner's only comedy in a traditional manner the master himself might recognize. If it's a proto-Holocaust "Meistersinger" you seek, travel to Bayreuth, McVicar seems to be telling us; let's just enjoy his opera for what it is.
McVicar has updated the action from 16th century Nuremberg (where the real Hans Sachs lived) to around 1813, the year of both Napoleon's downfall at the Battle of Leipzig and Wagner's birth in that same city. A canopy of High Gothic arches spans the stage, serving as an all-purpose frame for each scene – even, oddly enough, in Act 2, where the action takes place outdoors. Vicki Mortimer's designs are handsome enough, as are her Biedermeier-Empire costumes, bonnets and high-waisted dresses for the women, cravats and greatcoats for the men.
The trouble is that a production tailored to Glyndebourne's relatively intimate stage looks rather cramped within Lyric's wider, deeper stage. While character interaction emerges in sharp focus, the big crowd scenes of the second act and the finale in the festival meadow suffer from severe traffic congestion. A good thing the stilt-walking fire-spitter was banished from the final scene following actor Wesley Daniel's unfortunate accident last Monday (he suffered burns doctors likened to a severe but not life-threatening sunburn), since there was so little room anyway for this mute figure amid the multitudes gathered for the song contest.
Wagner's story revolves around Nuremberg's guild of mastersingers, musicians and poets who ply their craft according to rules and traditions, of whom Sachs is the town's most respected member. The shoemaker-poet takes under his tutelage a knight, Walther von Stolzing, teaching him in short order the secrets of the mastersingers' art so the knight might enter a song contest, the winner of which may claim the hand of his beloved Eva, daughter of the goldsmith Pogner. But first he must contend with the conniving Beckmesser, who also desires her.
While the populace hails the goodness and wisdom of Sachs at the work's joyous conclusion, the true hero of Friday's performance was Davis. From the Act 1 Prelude on, he secured a rich, full, golden sound from his hardworking orchestra, balancing pit and stage so that one heard everything – no mean feat given this richly textured score. There was nothing to mar the smooth musical continuity Lyric's music director sustained with such admirable concentration. Extra rehearsal time was allotted and it showed in the sheer beauty of the orchestral playing. Much the same high standard marked the singing of the chorus, prepared by guest chorus master Ian Robertson.
Overall, Lyric's cast is greatly superior to the one Glyndebourne fielded in 2011 when the McVicar production debuted (Opus Arte has released a DVD of the performance).
Lyric audiences know James Morris from his stalwart performances as Wotan in Lyric's "Ring" cycles during the 1990s. Sachs is another of his Wagnerian signature roles and there is much to be said for the warm, wise, good-hearted authority, both musically and dramatically, the American bass-baritone brings to the composer's most generous creation.
At this stage of his career there is not a great deal of sap left in Morris' sound, and he could not make it to the end of Sachs' final homily to "holy German art" without audible vocal fatigue. But he paced himself like the pro that he is and he had a field day with the scene in Act 2 in which Sachs hilariously thwarted Beckmesser's clumsy serenading of Eva. One cannot think of another interpreter of this great baritone role today who embodies the sage of Nuremberg more convincingly.
Physically and histrionically Johan Botha may not be the ideal embodiment of the dashing young Franconian knight Walther, and a braided bandmaster's uniform did this large man no favors. But the South African tenor has the vocal chops to go the distance in this heroic role, projecting his big, clarion sound over Wagner's huge orchestra without ever having to force. Once or twice during the Prize Song his singing betrayed lapses in breath control, but given the stamina required to sing this demanding part, those were easily forgiven.
Soprano Amanda Majeski, one of the Lyric Ryan Opera Center alumni who have gone on to successes elsewhere, used her radiant soprano and tall, willowy figure to advantage as a properly gentle and loving Eva. The character's big aria, "O Sachs, mein Freund," may represent the outer limits of what this intelligent and musical singer can accomplish vocally in Wagner at this point in her career, but she managed it well.
Casting the admirable Danish baritone Bo Skovhus as Beckmesser was in line with contemporary attempts to rescue Nuremberg's most notorious music critic from stereotypical caricature. He sang splendidly, juggling the character's movement vocabulary of vain, fidgety, fussy tics without overdoing them. You almost felt sorry for Beckmesser's abject humiliation in the song contest, which prompted him to reject Sachs' hand of friendship and skulk into the wings, mean-spirited to the end.
The "downstairs" couple, the apprentice David and Eva's confidante Magdalene, was winningly portrayed by tenor David Portillo and mezzo-soprano Jamie Barton. The honeyed, perfectly focused singing of Portillo, another outstanding Ryan Center grad, was ideal for the role. Dmitry Ivashchenko's somewhat thick-voiced Pogner led a nicely differentiated group of mastersingers. The various jugglers and plate-spinners added a circus-like touch to the concluding "Festwiese," but the Bavarian-style, knee-and-heel-slapping choreography looked rather lame.
All those who admire Wagner's sunniest, most approachable opera are advised to make haste to the Ardis Krainik Theater, because opportunities to experience "Die Meistersinger," let alone one this good, don't come around very often.
Lyric Opera's "Die Meistersinger" plays through March 3 at Civic Opera House, 20 N. Wacker Drive; $32-$239; 312-332-2244, ext. 5600; lyricopera.org.
