(Photo credit: ©EnricoNawrath)

In preparation for the new “Parsifal” at Bayreuth last year, one may have harbored preconceived doubts as to the very idea regarding the use of Augmented Reality eyeglasses. After attending this year’s performances, the doubts lingered; and although this production may not be considered a negative adventure per se, one may not view this experiment as a failure, but as a gimmick without a future as regards its role in Wagnerian performance. A let-down, then, prompting hopeful technophiles to foresee its improvements in a future Ring cycle; undoubtedly a bad idea at the outset. As we are dealing with the effects of today’s technology on Art, and its interacting with its representations, we should briefly reflect beforehand upon the intrinsic aesthetic and metaphysical values of this intrusion through imagery within the confines of a theatre space, already defined as “an invention of reality” by Wagner in his writings.

Augmented Reality (AR) proposes to create “other” sensations which transport us into diverse dimensions beyond ourselves, blurring the boundaries between intuition and appearance. Odd it may seem that Bayreuth chose “Parsifal” as the opera with which to offer the spectator a heightened construct of experience as this “stage consecration festival piece” already goes beyond even itself in both spirituality and the search for perfection in community order. It is a complex work here made more complex. And, too, it is the one opera of Wagner that may require the least amount of movement, of distraction. It seemed that in having witnessed this unique re-creation of the already unreal realm of the Grail, one did exit the Festspielhaus with a sense of vertigo; what with the soaring music vibrating still within us, the intensely concentrated dramatic action and dream-like imagery literally following us in our steps back into the Bayreuth night air as surrounded by others, yet perhaps feeling strangely alone.

Imagery and Character Personification

The world left behind, that temporary space as defined through scenic elements, was uncannily in itself rudimentary, personal augmented reality through its uncanny, ominous perspectives, darknesses and yellow lighting, as populated by characters concealing their unknown or darker sides. Almost all in Wagner deals with profound Shakespearean-like figures of tremendous inner force, wherein a sense of guilt, defiance, evilness, hope, duty and art are wrestled with before us in emulating ancient theatre performance. Parsifal is diverse in that it offers up the total personality of an individual, the ego in contrast with the self. Thus, Kundry the sorceress remains isolated and enigmatic even to herself, as Parsifal is enlightened through others to find his way, and the components of the Grail battling their leaderless shadows in search of order in their lives. This is the quintessence of Wagner’s own artistic reality as perceived through the characters of this, his last opera. His own unconscious can only be perceived through them, projections which allowed him to disconnect from the realities of the outside world. We encounter the Grail, yet even his sanctuary home, “Wahnfried”, as free from both worldly illusions and delusions.

Only through a theatrical space, home for both music and drama, would Wagner create his own “reality”. In his essay The Art-Work of The Future, he writes: “In the arrangement of the space for the spectators, the need for optical and acoustic understanding of the artwork will give the necessary law … Thus the spectator transplants himself upon the stage, by means of all his visual and aural faculties; while the performer becomes an artist only by complete absorption into the public. The public, that representative of daily life, disappears from the auditorium completely, and lives and breathes now only in the artwork which seems to it as Life itself, and on the stage which seems the wide expanse of the whole World.” Every word of all this is fundamental before entering into a discourse upon the imagery and stage direction chosen to represent this version of “Parsifal” through AR.

Wagner’s Cinema?

As is known, only some 300 spectators in the last three rows were able to procure the special computerized “sunglasses”. Having seen the AR “Parsifal” twice last year, and once now, this review will speak of that visual experience (Design and video by Joshua Higgason). The principal negative reactions were related to the fact that, at times, the stage action was veiled by the images seemingly floating about in the auditorium, at times distant, in other instances just in front of our faces. It was reported that the glasses heated up, causing discomfort, that they slid off, yet I did not have these problems; these glitches that will certainly be worked out in the future. What created doubts about the operation was the continuous “flood” of images. Many were of great interest, creating wondrous effects. Some hung in the air, others flew by as arrows, or dragonflies, while some became symbolic and persisted for up to an hour, as did the sea-born floating white plastic bags through almost all of Act three.

Though the ecological message may have been implied, this was not important. They were mesmerizing, almost in harmony with the music of Parsifal’s return to the Grail in the Prologue. What must be said is that the projected images inserted into the reality of the stage action were either unnecessary, disturbing, elaborated re-interpretations of what we saw or what was suggested through Wagner’s libretto. Worse, it was not always possible to link an abstract, unrelated image, fixed or animated, to the opera as it seemed to continue independently on its way. One was unable to unravel the symbolism shrouding director Jay Schreib’s intentions as they were cultural cross-references of an intrapersonal nature, and often in quick succession. We saw, but only once and for a moment, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel depiction of God’s finger touching that of Adam’s, and we are asked to link that universal moment in synthesis with the text and stage action of “Parsifal”. Too much is left for us to understand, and the purposed goal of enriching our understanding of Wagner’s opera is lost. We cannot say that there was no reason for this, yet as we all know that painting, every interpretative nuance comes to mind as a distraction.

It has often been stated that Wagner, living today, would make extensive use of technology, or filmic art. One wonders. This is an all-too-superficial supposition, though the original Rhine Maidens of 1876 were pushed about on carts behind a flimsy scrim representing water – the first cinema screen? Recall that the premiere showing of the Lumière brothers’ short films in Paris was only nineteen years after that historic first Bayreuth Ring cycle. Surely, Wagner would not now lean upon advanced PlayStation, Holographic technology to communicate all of “Parsifal”, that dramatic, intuitive wonder transforming us at every encounter, daringly blurring the boundaries between the legendary and the spiritual. And of these qualities, it appears here that AR has very little to contribute.

Many images have been roaming through my dreams for weeks, and I even saw my “doppelgänger” seated alone in a darkened Festspielhaus hall equipped with a pair of AR glasses. Almost all during the performance was in constant motion, suspended or in flight. There were many appearances from the animal world: the wounded swan pieced with Parsifal’s arrow, either a huge, bloodied figure, or smaller versions inside an eggshell recalling the surrealism of Hieronymus Bosch; then a prancing red fox that wandered solitary through a chasm meters below our feet, peering out to us, barking, though never receiving a reply; then, too, a cobra, as well as a tail-biting Uroboros. A Holy Ghost of a dove could not be missing. Less successful, perhaps, were the representations of huge flowers in Klingsor’s Act two gardens, portrayed through psychedelic tints. Though, yes, the music is lush, bewitching, they floated on endlessly and were the greatest obstacles of all in obscuring the opera in course. Other flying flowers were identical in the form of stop-window dummies, a bush for a head, hands and feet. Then there were other messages for us regarding our planet’s pollution: showers of hundreds of plastic bottles, used-car batteries.

What in some way worked were the incongruous elements that mirrored the stage action in other dimensions: parades of outlined Mannequin figures in brown (men) or yellow (women) that marched before us, remaining still, then moving to embrace each other, raising their hands high mimicking stage action before fading into the distance. At the end of Act one, a boy in white with flat white wings strapped to his arms appears – perhaps a half-enlightened poor fool? – only to march towards us, and beyond. This was touching and heightened the music echoing the Grail motif. Will he fly towards the sun, as Parsifal will indicate with his spear at the end of the opera; is there a relation to the swan? Act two concluded with the columns of the Festspielhaus crumbling, followed by the total collapse of the theater. This was just a part of the performance those without the AR glasses missed

Mystical Reality of Sorts

As to the opera seen by almost all the public, it is to be said that the staging was largely disappointing,
unmoving, or moving us at the wrong times. We were given a double figure of the already-complex Kundry, actually here the lover of the Grail guardian Gurnemanz; their rolling about embraced in each other’s arms fills the now once-memorable, sacred, thought-provoking Prelude as we are hurled into space by a rushing stream of stars. The Grail was an unearthed blue cobalt stone, a transference of the Chalice, or wooden dish symbol. Sadly, after having half-accepted this ecological message, we are mystified as Parsifal smashes it to smithereens, perhaps attempting to tell us that we need new values in order to confront the future. A bit of Cancel Culture? The Sacred Spear scene, wherein the Fallen Angel Klingsor launches the confiscated Grail lance to wound Parsifal, was the least accomplished representation ever seen. Here, Parsifal grabs it, and Klingsor, resisting as would a seven-year-old child, is thrown to the ground; he is shoved onto the convenient mattress whereon Kundry slept, just there by miracle. Added to all this, there was a rather large not AR screen upstage of much of the action. In many ways, it was unneeded, and only served in a Brechtian way to zoom in on some characters while they were sleeping, or to show us an all-too-vivid surgical operations to save the swan, as later to heal the wound of Amfortas.

The visual realities of the three-dimensional space (by Mimi Lien) as presented through the scenery, costumes and lighting, although at times evocative, proved unconvincing. Obviously all was in tune with Jay Schreib’s interpretation of Wagner’s mystical Grail landscape. The Act one realm of the Grail almost represented nothing. A cold metal monolith did not substitute a castle, and we needed to accept a post-Industrial Deconstructionist ambiance. The problem is that the supposed dwelling of a legendary settlement wherein the relics of Christ remain intact is presented is a too sterile manner. As if to make up for this, the chorus of Grail Knights carry on a mini-tabernacle and other sacred objects. Act two came off as the best in its Minimalistic representation of Klingsor’s Garden. A huge, imposing grey wall had Kundry standing on a precipitous ledge, while the evil magician dressed in pink remains fixed in a cut-out entrance to his castle, spear in hand. The flames within are Dantesque as visions of Hell. When all becomes too psychedelic in the Flower Maiden’s garden, their Eastern erotic persuasion loses tone. They are scantily dressed, enticing, but seem immature teeny boppers from a 1970’s rock and roll television studio. The third act attempts to capture a post-atomic wasteland, and does so, though mistakenly. There is a centerstage pool-well filled with fiendishly green polluted water. A dead half-tank (bombshells for iron wheels) half-excavation driller, its four barrels menacing explosives or poisonous manufacturing gases. The large, suspended crown of fluorescent bulbs hangs overhead as it did in Act one, perhaps suggesting a halo as the Grail Knights sing of redemption through Parsifal’s rousing invitation: “Uncover the Grail”.

The costumer Meentje Nielsen could not help but follow the flow of this version, and the results were unattractive. Parsifal in a T-shirt with bloodied hearts abound, the message “Remember Me” on the back; at other times, in a construction worker’s safety vest and jeans. Gurnemanz walked about in a sort of Scottish, work-smock kilt, Timberland boots and a skimpy grey shirt, sleeves rolled-up; hardly a valid representation of the man responsible for the Holy Order of Knights in crisis. Kundry changed dress from a white toga adorned with a silver scarf-shaped snake-like sequin to a black gown for the seduction scene to a black top and yellow skirt outfit for the final scene, where she, by the way, joins hands with Parsifal, and is not condemned. Gurnemanz, too, is hand in hand with Kundry’s double. Amfortas in a white, then black toga had a large cut hole to expose his side wound, and it seemed as if there were a fmagnifying glass there. The chorus, in white smocks with seagull like insignias donned outlandishly colored robes, half-camouflage designs as if in war, half-“Die Zauberflote” for phantasmagoria. The lighting design by Rainer Casper was effective, but strangely cold, often portraying all that is kitsch. If one recalls right, there were few shadows, and the set itself remained fixed as if during a rehearsal about to begin.

Bayreuth’s Musical Eternities

What is witnessed and heard at the Festspielhaus usually remains with one for long periods. That orchestral sound, the soloists and chorus performing the music written for those acoustics is unique. Those who return to Bayreuth year after year have come to realize this. Perennial great voices are captured live as mixed with the orchestra as if a harmonious symphony, an ethereal creation of perfect symmetry. Thus so, Bayreuth can do Wagner no wrong, even when the physical stage action abandons or betrays the complexity of the whole. The cast was the same as last year’s, with the exception of Kundry.

Andreas Schager’s portrayal as Parsifal was again this year an amazing feat. Not all Wagnerian voices could have sung Tristan (a vocally more demanding role) the following night as he did. His interpretation is conditioned by his full-fledged energies is giving the music its all. This, too, makes his scenic presence robust, forceful, in combination with what Jay Scheib asked for. Kundry’s inner conflicts and dramatic complications were here investigated with criteria by Ekaterina Gubanova. Her manner of gingerly inter-acting with Gurnemanz, then Klingsor, then Parsifal was admirable. This entails using the voice as tinged by psychological needs, and her vocal finesse and depth register resounded through the entire evening.

Our Gurnemanz was Georg Zeppenfeld, heard last year at Bayreuth in a variety of roles, an astonishing accomplishment. Indeed, this great artist makes it all look easy. I also saw him in Uwe Eric Laufenberg’s “Parsifal” in 2017. He offered us two diverse interpretations acting-wise, displaying the versatility of his stage presence. The pacing of his great monologue “Titurel, der fromme Held” revealed all the emotion of his involvement in the Grail’s past failings. He is full of compassion in admonishing his young squires when their behavior lacks the understanding they must acquire in becoming Knights of the Grail. The voice is commanding, truly Wagnerian.

The other three major roles were nobly covered: Derek Welton as the wounded Amfortas, victim of his own weakness in the hands of the seductive Kundry, conveyed the almost excessive suffering that the high tessitura role asks for. His monologues were vocally unwavering. His nemesis Klingsor was interpreted by Jordan Shanahan, ever-convincing in his snarling hate for the Grail Brotherhood from which he was expelled. His prowess at portraying his arrogance in denying his inner hate was at times shattering. And the founder of the Grail, Titurel, who does appear in this production, was as spectral as Tobias Kehrer could make him. Truly haunting were his pleadings with the Knights to celebrate the Mass. The chorus was as fine as it ever will be, yet something was lacking, and one may believe this was due to their involvement or rather non-involvement in their stage action duties. Eberhard Friedrich is retiring as Bayreuth’s chorus master this summer after twenty-four years on the job, and those who have been attending Bayreuth productions for years know what this loss will mean.

Pablo Heras-Casado conducted as he did last year, or so it seemed. In essence, his reading of the score was sensitive, a deep investigation of Wagner’s complexities. The weight of the orchestral presence was somewhat light at times as to being Teutonic. Wagner’s involvement is spiritual crisis, identity denouement, and uplifting redemption at times escaped him. The stretches of symphonic exposition, the
marches, tonal paintings of diverse realities were elegantly portrayed, if at times all too refined. The chorus was as fine as it ever will be, yet something was lacking, and one may believe this was due to their involvement or non- in their stage action duties.

All told, this experiment in AR will eventually lead to other operatic and theatrical events, wherein the images presented to us, in whatever dimension, will either interfere with, tinge, distort a recognized work of art, or successfully bring us into other true dimensions, affording us deeper understanding of our own awareness of our consciousness. In our technological world, everyday existence through the developments of science brings us closer to impossible achievements, often pointing towards the future, as was the astronaut’s journey to Infinity that ends 2001: Odyssey in Space. Yet, it is quite another story when we return to all that lies at the origins of dramatic art, within the other-worldly that needs to be transmitted to our present reality to make a theatrical experience a moving event, the past illuminating the present, theatre at its most essential. But when our tapping upon the windows of the past or present is conditioned by an over-abundance of technological images, we become “Parsifal” in a certain sense, expressing the intuitive experience of the Wagnerian drama.

Was it not Wagner’s uniqueness in blurring the boundaries between the aesthetic and the spiritual, upon a landscape where Time does become Space, as ever so through our heightened sense of compassion in our daily lives? It should always be, though, that we are celebrating all that is sacred in “Parsifal”, along with every image imaginable, whether through our inner visions, or as projected in other dimensions.