Time Becomes Space

 And so to the opera. For some reason this blog has been neglecting its self-ordained role of bringing reviews of the most life-affirming of the arts to wargamers who don't give a toss. Half a dozen operas have passed without comment this year (plus this one which snuck in somehow), but Parsifal is going to get the treatment, not least because it lasted five hours.

Musically, it was wonderful. Five hours seems a long time (*), but as with other Wagner operas that I have seen it actually goes very quickly, especially if one takes the sensible option of just surrendering to it without constantly trying to estimate when the the next interval is. Plus of course, taking the other sensible option of going to the toilet first. As with Ian McKellen's 'King Lear' I think one should say to oneself that if those on the stage can stick it out then so can I.

The semi-staged concert production was striking, with the orchestra - on top form - present on stage, but not able to be seen clearly because of a slightly opaque curtain between them and the singers and bright lights shining from the back. The singers were uniformly excellent, although I would pick out Katerina Karnéus as Kundry for special mention. Kundry, incidentally, undergoes almost as big a change between acts as Puccini's Mimi. 

But what is it all about? Good question; buggered if I know. Superficially, it's about the Grail legend Parsifal being the German version of Percival. I have seen it suggested that Wagner had convinced himself that the word was related to the Parsees of India, which seems odd because they are Zoroastrians, and this is overtly Christian, albeit layered with even more mumbo-jumbo than normal. It could be about compassion, but the characters spend more time placing curses on each other than one would expect from truly compassionate people (**). It's possible that there is some connection being drawn between castration and celibacy - this is before Freud of course - or perhaps it's a commentary on the risks men run from women who may emasculate them, Kundry again; she really is the most interesting character involved.

The programme went to great lengths to say that if one didn't know that Wagner was anti-semitic then one couldn't deuce it from the libretto. Maybe not, but equally one can see why in later decades sinister types would seize on operas about groups of uniformed Aryans with unresolved homoerotic tensions whose destiny can only be fulfilled on the arrival of a charismatic leader. 

* Probably because it is

** In particular the question of who had originally placed the curse on Kundry confused me enormously. If anyone knows, please leave it in the comments.

Don't Call Me Ludwig

“Alas, he is so handsome and wise, soulful and lovely, that I fear that his life must melt away in this vulgar world like a fleeting dream of the gods.” - Richard Wagner about King Ludwig II of Bavaria

Ludwig was a big fan of opera, liked building grandiose castles, and was, or at least was considered to be, mad. Be that as it may, opera having been welcomed back to the blog yesterday, it's now time for the return of something vaguely related to wargaming, namely another progress update on the castle.

As previously the pieces are at various stages of painting. It hasn't been good spraying weather recently. I have also changed the undercoat colour, and not entirely because I ran out of the other one. I think black will help to cover the joins.  

I had decided to wait until I had finished making all the pieces before painting on the mortar lines to show the individual stone blocks. However, 'finished' doesn't appear that easy to define. One element of a modular system is that one never uses all the pieces at the same time anyway. So, perhaps it's time to get on with some of the finer detailing.

Die Frist ist um

And so to the opera. Leeds Town Hall is sold out and rammed, it's the hottest day for years, and we're facing two and half hours straight through Wagner's The Flying Dutchman with no interval. But, fortified by a last gasp pint of Tetley's I made it somehow. So, thankfully, did the singers, conductor and orchestra.

It was, as one would expect, simply excellent. The cinematic semi-staging works even better for this than for the Ring and the title character's costume wouldn't have looked out of place in a fully staged version - or in a Disney cartoon come to that. I did wonder why the Helmsman had come dressed like Phil Harding from Time Team, but the influence of television is everywhere these days. Anyway, the chorus and band - the foundation of Opera North's success - were on fire.

As usual with opera one is faced with the question of what on earth it's about. I lean to a theme of Marxist alienation. Die Hollander himself represents wage slaves in the twenty first century, doomed to be tossed about by the storms of the capitalist crisis, unable to find a safe harbour but still naively believing that security, stability and a home can be his one day. Is it a coincidence that he sings 'Die Frist ist um' at the same time as the Germans say exactly that to the Greeks?

The Battle of the Pelennor Fields

OK, time for another complete digression coupled with a futile attempt to make it look as if this blog has some sort of planning involved. The last two postings have concerned the Fall of Constantinople and Wagner's Ring Cycle. The former prompted MS Foy to refer in a comment to the sinister and superhuman dread that the Ottomans inspired then and now. As for the second, Wagner was clearly one of the sources for Tolkien's later ring based epic although the elf-fancier rather strangely denied it when asked.

Gandalf the Orangey-Brown

There has always been speculation - also strongly refuted by the author - that Lord of the Rings was allegorical. As a callow youth I indulged myself in a large number of pointless and no doubt erroneous conversations regarding the ring as atomic bomb or orcs as the Japanese in the second world war. Now it seems obvious that a more likely parallel would be between Gondor and Byzantium and between Minas Tirith and Constantinople, with Tolkien - a devout Christian - rewriting the events of 1453 as a counter-factual more to his taste; this time the west does come to the aid of the besieged city, the heathens are seen off and civilisation (as JRR would understand it) is saved.

This isn't an especially original thought, but if completely new stuff was all the blog contained then postings would be pretty damned infrequent.

They call me the Wanderer

Yeah, the Wanderer

I roam around, around, around

Dion Dimucci is chief of the gods that live in Valhalla

And so to the opera. Siegfried is the latest of Opera North's austerity ring cycle and I saw it last night at Leeds Town Hall. And that's not all I saw. Two rows in front of me was a chap in Bermuda shorts (come on, this is Yorkshire in June; what else would one wear to the opera?) proudly displaying a bum crack that a whole site full of builders would have been proud of. Didn't he realise it was being broadcast live on Radio 3?

Sadly the budget wouldn't run to the full fat version

Anyway, what of the opera it self. Smut. Yes, smut. Siegfried, upon reaching adulthood, comes into the possession of a powerful, er, sword, which, when he uses it for the first time, becomes covered in a hot liquid, which in turn drives him on to usurp the reigning alpha-male by breaking his, er, staff and then to deflower a handy virgin who happens to be lying about asleep. Add to that the fact that Siegfried is the son of incestuous twins, that the previous cock of the dunghill is his grandfather and that the virgin is his aunt and I think that we have clear reasons to refer Wagner to social services. I suppose we can be grateful for the small mercy that Brünnhilde's sleeping horse was left unmolested.

Overall verdict: it goes on a bit.

The band were good though.

La tristesse durera

And so to the theatre. Kneehigh are at the West Yorkshire Playhouse with a revival of their acclaimed Tristan & Yseult, and it was excellent.

Kneehigh are famous for their physicality (their production of Brief Encounter managed to include a trampoline - something that David Lean didn't think of), and that was much in evidence, but at least as important was the astute use of music - both live and recorded. Obviously there was Wagner, but also a whole, beautifully poignant Nick Cave song and a singalong version of No Woman No Cry. The latter was undoubtedly helped by the presence of lots of sixth formers in block bookings at the back, but even the older members of the audience both entered into the spirit and knew all the words. Not many UKIP voters in the house last night presumably.

The other benefit of a theatre full of schoolkids is that there was no queue for the bar. Times have changed. Anyway, I must mention the design theme which was either inspired by the trainspotters of your worst nightmares or by the sperm scene from 'Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask', or possibly both.

So, very good, very sad and very well worth seeing.