Wotan exclaims bluntly that he himself must have the Ring. But how to get it? Easy, replies Loge. Steal it from the one who stole it. Then Wotan can return it to the Rhinemaidens, as they asked. Wotan is not interested in the Rhinemaidens, and Fricka adds that she has no desire to know about those three trashy marriage wreckers. Fafner deduces that the gold is worth more than Freia, since its commander also gains eternal youth. He announces to Wotan that Freia may stay with the gods in exchange for the Rhinegold. Let the god use his cunning, but get the gold by evening, or Freia will be the giants’ forever. They drag her away as a hostage, while Loge comments on their journey across the Rhine. No one is listening to him. The gods are lurching to the ground, weary. Loge understands that they haven’t eaten Freia’s golden apples this day, and are aging already. He himself doesn’t need to worry, only being a demigod, and Freia only grudgingly gave him the occasional apple anyway, but the others are in serious trouble. Wotan musters himself, telling Loge to accompany him to Alberich’s home in Nibelheim, deep in the earth. They must get the gold! To return it to the Rhinemaidens? asks Loge teasingly. Never mind them, answers Wotan, Freia must be freed. We’ll go there by way of the Rhine, says Loge provocatively, but Wotan insists they find another way. They disappear through a chasm in the rocks while Fricka, Donner, and Froh implore them to be quick about their business.
Comment: Loge dominates this part of the scene. He is sarcastic, philosophical, and a bit long-winded if you don’t know what he’s saying. Lately, it’s been the fashion to assign the role to lighter-voiced tenors who are good actors, and even good comedians, and they usually ham it up quite a bit.
When Loge tells of the Rhinegold, the Ring, and so on, the orchestra plays variations of the themes we have heard when these objects and situations were played out on the stage in the first scene. This is the beginning of the involved system of leitmotivs for which the Ring is so famous.
Scene 3
A musical interlude depicts Wotan and Loge’s journey through the earth to Nibelheim.
Comment: This interlude begins typically enough, with dark muddy tones suggesting both the physical journey into the earth and the questionable motives and consequences of the journey. Soon we hear the familiar Rhinegold theme, now sounding ominous played on the bass trumpet. This is followed by a sinister rhythmic theme in the orchestra, which had already been suggested in Loge’s narration when he described the toiling servitude of the Nibelung slaves. It grows very loud, supported by percussion, until the orchestra fades out and all we hear is the cadence literally hammered out on twelve anvils. It is a striking effect that never fails to grab the attention of those who have drifted away during the longish previous scene.
Setting: Nibelheim, the subterranean cavern home of the Nibelungs.
Alberich is harassing and beating his brother Mime, demanding the helmet he ordered him to make. Mime produces the helmet, which Alberich seizes, accusing Mime of plotting some use of it for himself. He puts on the helmet and instantly vanishes. Mime cannot see him, so Alberich tells him to feel him instead, delivering a series of invisible kicks to the howling dwarf. Now he, Alberich, will be everywhere at all times, unseen, coercing labor out of his wretched Nibelung slaves! They will mine the earth day and night for him, increasing his hoard of gold, not daring to linger. His voice trails off.
Loge and Wotan appear, asking Mime why he’s whimpering. Mime explains to them that the Nibelungs were once a happy race, mining and smithing for the pleasure of it and to make ornaments for their women. Now they are slaves to Alberich because of the power he has gained through the Ring. He admits that he had planned to use the magic helmet, the Tarnhelm, himself to escape Alberich’s tyranny, but now Alberich has that as well! Mime asks the intruders who they are, and Loge says they are friends who will free the Nibelungs. Alberich returns, visible now, fulminating at the Nibelungs, threatening all, flaunting his power. Almost as an afterthought, he asks Loge and Wotan what they want. Slyly, the two flatter him, saying they have come to see for themselves the one who is the envy of all, the all-powerful Alberich. Alberich recognizes them, taunting Loge for associating with the “Elves of Light,” as he calls the gods. Wotan points out that power is useless in joyless Nibelheim, but Alberich discloses his plan to conquer the whole world with the wealth of Nibelheim. Then he will torture the fallen gods by raping their women out of sheer spite and lust, since he has no love. This provokes Wotan nearly to violence, but Loge calms him and continues his flattery of the dwarf. Truly Alberich is the envy of the world, but how will he guard against theft? Loge thinks himself so clever, remarks Alberich, that he assumes all others stupid. The Tarnhelm gives him the ability to assume shapes as well as become invisible. He can intimidate any foe with the magic helmet. Loge will not be convinced by words, and dares Alberich to prove it. Unable to resist, Alberich dons the Tarnhelm and instantly turns into a giant serpent, hissing and spitting.
Wotan laughs at the silliness of the trick, but Loge feigns terror and begs the hideous serpent for his life. Now do you believe me? asks Alberich, resuming his dwarf shape. I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t seen it, answers Loge, suggesting that Alberich might be wiser to turn himself into a tiny creature so that he couldn’t be found, but, of course, that would probably be beyond Alberich’s capability. Goaded, Alberich pits the Tarnhelm back on, and instantly becomes a small toad, “ribbeting” on the ground. Wotan immediately steps on the toad, Loge grabs the Tarnhelm, and Alberich, captured, resumes his form, cursing. Loge and Wotan drag their captive up the chasm of the rock, back to the mountaintop clearing.
Comment: The Alberich of this scene is very different from the frustrated little gnome of Scene 1. Here he is frankly drunk with power, as is Wotan as well, but Alberich’s reaction to it is coarser and louder. This is perhaps why he will fall from power faster than Wotan does—he lacks Wotan’s veneer of civilization. Throughout his appearances in the Ring from this point onward, Alberich is very clear about his disdain for the gods’ beauty and loftiness.
The production challenges of this scene are obvious. The serpent never fails to elicit laughter from the audience, so most productions accept the inevitable and play it for laughs. Wotan’s reaction to the transformation provides some justification for this. The second transformation shows us some humor in the orchestra, with soft “ribbets” in the winds.
Scene 4
Setting: The mountaintop clearing, as in Scene 2.
Loge taunts the captured, raging Alberich, who asks what his ransom is. Wotan calmly demands his hoard of gold. The dwarf cries out against such a sacrifice, but considers that so long as he has the Ring he can always find another hoard of gold. Next time he won’t fall for any tricks! The Gods loosen his hand and, whispering to the Ring, Alberich summons the Nibelungs with the hoard. The Nibelungs crawl out of clefts in the rocks, while Alberich, imperious even in his captivity, hurls abuse at them, ordering them not to dare look up at him in this state and to return to work immediately. The shrieking Nibelungs disappear, still terrified of Alberich. Loge tells the dwarf to remove the Tarnhelm from his belt—that, too, is part of the hoard. Alberich hands the helmet over, and demands to be let loose. Wotan says there is yet one last item: Alberich must surrender the Ring. Alberich pleads, threatens, and screams. “Take my life, but not the Ring!” Wotan does not care a whit about Alberich’s life, but the Ring he must have! Alberich accuses the god of hypocrisy, vying for the power of the Ring without having paid the terrible price it cost to forge it. Yes, he admits, “I stole it. But if I sinned, I sinned only against myself. But you, eternal one, sin against all that was, is, and will ever be if you seize the Ring from me!” Unimpressed, Wotan tears the Ring off Alberich’s hand and puts it on his own hand, entranced. Loge unties Alberich’s hands and feet, telling him he is free. This gets a bitter laugh out of Alberich, and he greets his freedom with ominous words. Let the Ring be cursed. Let it bring death to whoever wears it, happiness to no one, and envy to all. The pathetic dwarf crawls a
way.
Comment: Most people agree that the curse on the Ring is little more than a formulaic musical and dramatic gesture—obviously it will be bad news for everybody involved. But the terms of the curse are important as well. It will bring death to those who wear it, but all others who fall under its spell will live on in envy; that is, they cannot die. This detail will prove important later in the drama.
Fricka, Donner, and Froh enter, eager for news. The giants with their captive Freia follow. Fasolt bemoans surrendering the lovely goddess. If he must accept the Nibelung’s gold in lieu of her, let the gold be piled up high enough to block her entirely out of sight, because he can’t bear to give her up if he can see any part of her. Wotan, impatient to conclude the business, agrees, and the giants plant their walking staffs in the ground. Freia is placed between the staffs and slightly behind, that the gold may be piled up to form a wall in front of her. Donner and Loge heave the gold into a pile, while Fafner keeps patting it down tight. At last the hoard is exhausted, but Fasolt can still see Freia through a gap in the pile of gold. Fafner demands the Tarnhelm, which Wotan disgustedly adds to the pile. But Fasolt is not yet out of his misery. Through the tiniest crack he can still see Freia’s beautiful eye. No! He can’t leave her while he can see her! Loge protests that the hoard is exhausted, but Fafner demands the Ring on Wotan’s hand. Loge says the Ring is not part of the hoard, but will be returned to the Rhinemaidens, which prompts Wotan to inform all that he is not surrendering the Ring to anybody for any reason. The giants say the deal is broken, and grab Freia to drag her away again. Fricka, Donner, and Froh plead with Wotan to surrender the Ring, but Wotan is adamant. He will not relinquish the Ring.
Comment: The piling of the gold to hide Freia from view is a rather contrived way to get Wotan to give up the Ring, but it is effective in showing the extent of the gods’ humiliation at this point, that is, how Wotan has “prostituted” them for the trappings of power.
Helpful hint: The Rhinegold itself made the Ring. The rest of the gold is what the Nibelungs mined in servitude to Alberich as Master of the Ring.
A mysterious form emerges from the ground, a woman who warns Wotan, in ominous tones, to yield. Wotan asks the identity of this woman who threatens him. She is Erda, the Earth Mother, proto-ancestress of the world, who sees all that was, is, and will be. Usually she sends her daughters, the three Norns, who spin the fabric of time and fate, to Wotan nightly in his dreams, but now she must speak in person. All that is shall come to an end. A dark day dawns for the gods. Give up the Ring! Wotan begs more information from the all-seeing Earth Mother, but she abruptly tells him he has received sufficient warning, and vanishes.
Wotan determines to know more from the Earth Mother, but the other gods counsel caution. To provoke Erda would be madness. Wotan delivers the Ring to Fasolt, welcoming Freia back home. Fafner immediately sets to packing up the gold, causing Fasolt to demand his fair half-share. Fafner points out that Fasolt was so obsessed with Freia that he doesn’t deserve an even half. Fasolt calls on the gods to judge his case, but they say nothing. Only Loge advises him to allow Fafner the gold, but keep the Ring. Fafner demands the Ring, and Fasolt claims it by right, since he holds it. “Hold it tight, then, lest you drop it!” cries Fafner, who knocks his brother dead with one blow. He takes the Ring, throws it in his sack of gold, and leaves. Wotan is beginning to realize the power of the Ring’s curse.
Loge points out how lucky Wotan is. He gained power with the Ring, and even more power when he lost it! Wotan ruminates Erda’s dark warnings, while Fricka asks him why he is hesitating to enter his new fortress. As if conscious of it for the first time, Wotan remarks that he has paid for the fortress with bad wages.
Donner comments on the oppressive air that has been hanging about them for the whole of this difficult day. He commands the clouds to gather themselves to him, with all mists and vapors. Swinging his great hammer and gathering the gloom about it, with one great blow he causes a burst of lightning to clear the air. Froh commands a rainbow to arc from their clearing to the mountain summit, now plainly visible with its peerless castle glistening in the evening light. The gods stare entranced at its majesty, primarily Wotan, who is struck by a passing but unexplained idea. He salutes the castle, and grandly offers his arm to Fricka. “Follow me, wife,” he says, “and live with me in Valhalla.” She is a bit overwhelmed by the idea, asking what the name Valhalla means. He explains vaguely that it will become clear over time.
The gods approach the rainbow, while Loge remains behind, noting how the gods hurry to their own end. As the gods prepare to enter Valhalla, the Rhinemaidens are heard, as if from the river below, bewailing their lost gold. Wotan is annoyed with the reminder, and bids Loge silence them. Loge advises the Rhinemaidens to forget about their gold and bask instead in the shimmering glory of the gods. The sisters continue their lament, adding that everything high up is tainted, while only the depths remain pure. Wotan says nothing, but draws himself up proudly and leads the other gods across the rainbow to their new home in Valhalla. Loge remains behind.
Comment: The entrance of the gods into Valhalla is meant to be a moment of pure magnificence, the panoply of power in its moment of full glory. Many people these days feel uncomfortable with such a pose, especially those who see the Wagner–Third Reich connection too directly. Directors are often found “hedging” this scene in some way. Worse yet are the occasional conductors who undercut the self-conscious grandeur of the music. This is a mistake. Loge’s comments are explicit enough to let us know that we are not meant to be “rooting” for the gods, so to speak. Besides, the answers are in the score, as always. Wagner weaves together many leitmotivs at this point, including music associated with the Rhinegold as a counterpoint to the Valhalla music, so any flatliner can understand the corrupt center of the gods’ new grandeur. However, the overall feel must be one of splendor, or else their eventual fall will not be sufficiently impressive. The finale to Rheingold also happens to be the loudest part of the entire Ring, which certainly says something. As Robert Donington so interestingly points out in Wagner’s “Ring” and Its Symbols, Valhalla not only stands for hollow pomp and illusory power, it also signifies the transitory nature of genuine worldly achievement.
BASICS: WHEN TO EAT, DRINK, AND VISIT THE RESTROOM
Well, this one’s a no-brainer. Either you get your physical needs met before the beginning of Rheingold or you just grit your teeth and hang on. Rheingold was written without an intermission, and is almost always performed that way. Most evening performances of Rheingold start at 8:00 p.m., which is laughably audience-friendly by Wagnerian standards.
ROUGH SPOTS AND HOW TO GET THROUGH THEM
Many people will tell you that there are no longueurs in Rheingold. This is true—if you know what’s going on. If you don’t, you will find the two mountaintop scenes (Scenes 2 and 4) unnecessarily chatty. You can always hope to rely on the in-house translations, but if you do, you had better pay pretty close attention to every word. This will mean your eyes won’t be on the performers, and that’s a particular shame in this piece. Loge, especially, has important details to relate, but they are better read ahead of time so you can enjoy the tenor’s characterization of the role. See if you find yourself attracted to Loge’s duplicitous character. Is the tenor “seducing” you, or is he just prancing about the stage trying to convey some operatic equivalent of slipperiness? And is there a real, qualitative difference between Loge’s flickering presence and the stalwart, glorious gods, or are they all just standing around looking statuesque? These are the details that make Rheingold such an enjoyable brain-tease in performance. If the production is sensitive to details of this nature, the two hours and twenty minutes of this work will fly by before you realize you forgot to stop at the bar or the restroom on the way to your seat.
DIE WALKÜRE
PREMIERE: MUNICH, 1870.
THE NAME
What to call it This one can be a bit confusing. The only English equivalen
t for Walküre is “Valkyrie,” which means a kind of warrior goddess. In this case, it refers to Brünnhilde, the heroine of the Ring. Usually, one would just say Walküre in conversation, and leave off the Die, which means “the.”
How to pronounce it If you are settling for English, it’s pronounced “VAHL-keh-ree,” or anything close to it. In German, there’s that nasty ü to negotiate. There’s no need to strain yourself on it, since you’ll never get it exactly right anyway. It’s basically “VAHL-keu-ruh.” The important thing to remember is that the accent is on the first syllable, and the last vowel is “uh.” The first word is pronounced “Dee.”
WHAT IS DIE WALKÜRE?
Die Walküre has almost from the beginning been the most popular of the Ring operas, and the one you are most likely to see outside of a full cycle of the Ring. It’s not hard to see why. The situations in Die Walküre brought out some of the most frankly emotional music Wagner ever wrote. Siegmund’s and Sieglinde’s self-discovery in each other in Act I is thrilling; this is somehow Wagner’s most convincing love scene in terms of sheer romantic passion. Wotan’s dilemma is involving, and we meet Brünnhilde in this opera. She and her eight Valkyrie sisters make much unique music.
Not that one should expect a “hit parade” here. Fricka doesn’t come up for air as she expounds her take on things, and Wotan’s moral and philosophical problems concerning his abandonment of Seigmund and the punishment of Brünnhilde are spun out at some length. In order to appreciate Die Walküre as a whole, rather than languishing in anticipation of the big hits, one should give it the same attention and preparation given to, say, Das Rheingold.
Wagner Without Fear Page 24