Sated on excess, passion and Wagner

Alexandra Coghlan reviews the Dresden Festival's celebration on the eve of Wagner’s 200th birthday.

2013 might be a big year for classical anniversaries, but celebrations of Gesualdo, Britten and even Verdi have all been dwarfed by the biggest of them all: Richard Wagner’s 200th birthday. This year’s Proms feature no fewer than seven of his operas, Welsh National Opera are currently staging a new Lohengrin while the Royal Opera House’s Parsifal will follow in November. But if it’s authenticity you’re after then it would be hard to improve on a concert on the eve of Wagner’s birthday in the composer’s home town of Dresden, directed by Bayreuth’s unofficial musical director and Wagner-authority Christian Thielemann.

Rienzi, Der fliegende Holländer and Tannhäuser all had their premiere in the gilded baroque splendour of Dresden’s Semperoper, which is among the most spectacular of the annual Dresden Festival’s venues – a secular foil and companion to the famous Frauenkirche, and another reminder of the city’s palimpsest-history of destruction and rebuilding. The Semperoper’s resident orchestra, the Staateskapelle Dresden, also has its historical ghosts. Nicknamed the “wonder-harp” by Wagner himself, some claim that the influence of the composer’s direction can still be felt in the ensemble’s sound today.

Whether that’s true or not, under their new conductor the Staatskapelle certainly have one of the most gilded of brass tones in Europe (only appropriate in so baroque a city), showcased beautifully here in the Overture to Rienzi. The roundness of the sound catches the opera house’s acoustic without undue force or edge, and timbrally they have a very similar quality to the concert’s soloist – superstar tenor Jonas Kaufmann. In this intimate space both were able to give a dazzlingly subtle range of muted colours without any fear of the detail being missed.

Thielemann is a conductor of certainties, but what keeps him from inflexibility is the mutable, organic quality of these convictions. The result, in some of Wagner’s most familiar opera overtures, was curiously energised – music poised always on the edge of a change of heart, but driving passionately forwards regardless. Impulsion and propulsion are dominant characteristics, lending force to the storm that thrashes through Wagner’s overture to Der fliegende Holländer (a startling and vivid opener), conjuring Heine’s North Sea verses and Casper David Friedrich’s landscapes with every musical gust.

The Prelude to Act I of Lohengrin saw the strings at the fore, violins dissolving into a glowing pianissimo mist. Exquisite though their blend was however, Thielemann’s forces were at no point less – or, crucially – more than lovely. There was an absence of urgency here, a void where the Romantic sturm should be, that was never quite filled until Kaufmann joined the ensemble. Both Kaufmann and Thielemann are masters of the long game, withholding until the absolute last moment before releasing to shattering effect. Lohengrin’s Gralserzählung grew from barely-breath to full textural heroics, with the orchestra matching their soloist’s every flicker and surge of growth. Pacing was swift, but the smooth transitions suppressed any sense of rush.

Kaufmann’s Wagner brings the directness of Schubert lieder to the opera house, and this gorgeous simplicity was most evident in “Inbrunst im Herzen” from Tannhäuser, another slow-build that allowed Kaufmann the space to develop the psychological detail that is so much a part of his operatic performances, and could easily have been lost in this concert of excerpts.

The concert’s sole deviation from Wagner, Hens Werner Henze’s Fraternite, was both contrast and continuation, tracing the line of textural influence from the earlier composer but stripping some of the richer textures back to an altogether more bracing, percussive orchestral core. This work from 1999 sees the composer as his most lyric, glancing frequently towards melody before turning determinedly away. It was a welcome opportunity to see the orchestra and their new conductor in a different mode, and one that bodes well for regular Dresden audiences.

Sated on excess and passion, it only took the arrival of the men and women of Dresden’s opera chorus, to propel us to truly Wagnerian levels of indulgence with the “Einzug der Gäste” from Tannhäuser by way of encore. Gathering round us in the stalls they embraced us into the sound, invited us into the celebrations that spilled out onto the Theaterplatz where hundreds more watched the concert on giant screens. Dresden and its annual music festival certainly know how to throw a birthday party. You might be waiting a while for Wagner’s next big anniversary but with Schumann, Weber, Schumann and Strauss all having significant associations with the city, it’s safe to say that the festivities are likely to continue. And with Dresden’s democratic, free-thinking spirit, you certainly don’t need to wait for an invitation.
 

Dresden's Semperoper. Photograph: Sascha D E via WikiCommons
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Leader: The unresolved Eurozone crisis

The continent that once aspired to be a rival superpower to the US is now a byword for decline, and ethnic nationalism and right-wing populism are thriving.

The eurozone crisis was never resolved. It was merely conveniently forgotten. The vote for Brexit, the terrible war in Syria and Donald Trump’s election as US president all distracted from the single currency’s woes. Yet its contradictions endure, a permanent threat to continental European stability and the future cohesion of the European Union.

The resignation of the Italian prime minister Matteo Renzi, following defeat in a constitutional referendum on 4 December, was the moment at which some believed that Europe would be overwhelmed. Among the champions of the No campaign were the anti-euro Five Star Movement (which has led in some recent opinion polls) and the separatist Lega Nord. Opponents of the EU, such as Nigel Farage, hailed the result as a rejection of the single currency.

An Italian exit, if not unthinkable, is far from inevitable, however. The No campaign comprised not only Eurosceptics but pro-Europeans such as the former prime minister Mario Monti and members of Mr Renzi’s liberal-centrist Democratic Party. Few voters treated the referendum as a judgement on the monetary union.

To achieve withdrawal from the euro, the populist Five Star Movement would need first to form a government (no easy task under Italy’s complex multiparty system), then amend the constitution to allow a public vote on Italy’s membership of the currency. Opinion polls continue to show a majority opposed to the return of the lira.

But Europe faces far more immediate dangers. Italy’s fragile banking system has been imperilled by the referendum result and the accompanying fall in investor confidence. In the absence of state aid, the Banca Monte dei Paschi di Siena, the world’s oldest bank, could soon face ruin. Italy’s national debt stands at 132 per cent of GDP, severely limiting its firepower, and its financial sector has amassed $360bn of bad loans. The risk is of a new financial crisis that spreads across the eurozone.

EU leaders’ record to date does not encourage optimism. Seven years after the Greek crisis began, the German government is continuing to advocate the failed path of austerity. On 4 December, Germany’s finance minister, Wolfgang Schäuble, declared that Greece must choose between unpopular “structural reforms” (a euphemism for austerity) or withdrawal from the euro. He insisted that debt relief “would not help” the immiserated country.

Yet the argument that austerity is unsustainable is now heard far beyond the Syriza government. The International Monetary Fund is among those that have demanded “unconditional” debt relief. Under the current bailout terms, Greece’s interest payments on its debt (roughly €330bn) will continually rise, consuming 60 per cent of its budget by 2060. The IMF has rightly proposed an extended repayment period and a fixed interest rate of 1.5 per cent. Faced with German intransigence, it is refusing to provide further funding.

Ever since the European Central Bank president, Mario Draghi, declared in 2012 that he was prepared to do “whatever it takes” to preserve the single currency, EU member states have relied on monetary policy to contain the crisis. This complacent approach could unravel. From the euro’s inception, economists have warned of the dangers of a monetary union that is unmatched by fiscal and political union. The UK, partly for these reasons, wisely rejected membership, but other states have been condemned to stagnation. As Felix Martin writes on page 15, “Italy today is worse off than it was not just in 2007, but in 1997. National output per head has stagnated for 20 years – an astonishing . . . statistic.”

Germany’s refusal to support demand (having benefited from a fixed exchange rate) undermined the principles of European solidarity and shared prosperity. German unemployment has fallen to 4.1 per cent, the lowest level since 1981, but joblessness is at 23.4 per cent in Greece, 19 per cent in Spain and 11.6 per cent in Italy. The youngest have suffered most. Youth unemployment is 46.5 per cent in Greece, 42.6 per cent in Spain and 36.4 per cent in Italy. No social model should tolerate such waste.

“If the euro fails, then Europe fails,” the German chancellor, Angela Merkel, has often asserted. Yet it does not follow that Europe will succeed if the euro survives. The continent that once aspired to be a rival superpower to the US is now a byword for decline, and ethnic nationalism and right-wing populism are thriving. In these circumstances, the surprise has been not voters’ intemperance, but their patience.

This article first appeared in the 08 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brexit to Trump