Wagner Without Fear
Page 31
Siegfried’s sudden appearance on the river is a bit of mythological camp we must accept at face value, like the old magic potion gimmick.
Siegfried bounds ashore, seeking the famous Gunther and offering, according to chivalry, friendship or combat. Gunther greets him and they swear friendship. Hagen asks about the hoard of gold, but Siegfried says he had almost forgotten about it. It’s still in the cave of Neidhöhle, guarded by the dead dragon. He only took the helmet, although he doesn’t know how to use it. Hagen tells him about the magic of the Tarnhelm, and asks if he didn’t take anything else. Yes, answers Siegfried, a ring, which a sublime woman keeps. Brünnhilde! mutters Hagen, to himself. Gutrune offers Siegfried a drinking horn, which he lifts to his lips, toasting Brünnhilde. As soon as he drinks, he becomes inflamed with passion for Gutrune, who withdraws from the room in modesty and agitation.
Siegfried asks Gunther if he is married, but Gunther replies that he is incapable of winning the only woman who would satisfy him. Siegfried immediately volunteers to capture this woman using the Tarnhelm, and, drugged into forgetting the past, asks where he can find her. Gunther explains that she is on a mountaintop surrounded by fire, which causes Siegfried to stir with vague recollections, but he promises to win the woman for Gunther in exchange for Gutrune’s hand. He and Gunther take a drinking horn and cut their forearms, dripping blood into it and swearing blood brotherhood. Siegfried asks Hagen why he does not join in the oath, but Hagen explains that his cold blood would taint the drink. Gunther tells Siegfried to ignore the joyless one, and he and Siegfried run to the boat for the journey to Brünnhilde’s rock. Hagen is told to keep watch over the palace.
Gutrune comes back into the room, asking for news, and leaves again, dreaming of Siegfried as her husband. Alone, Hagen keeps watch, musing on his hate and his longing for the Ring, which will make these high-born Gibichungs serve him, the son of the Nibelung!
Comment: Although reading this scene makes Siegfried look like one of the bigger idiots ever to hit the operatic stage, the music is full of nuance. After he drinks the potion, his words are at odds with the orchestra, which breathes reminiscences of his love for Brünnhilde. It is a good example of the orchestra as the subconscious, striving, yet unable, to put a certain longing into words.
Hagen’s watch is as somber and bitter as the man himself. Wagner is practically daring the spectator to fall asleep, but try not to.
After an orchestral interlude, the scene returns to Brünnhilde’s rock.
Comment: For the “Rhine Journey” interlude, the mood went from exuberant and loving to dark and somber. The journey is now, in a sense, reversed, beginning in the mood of Hagens ruminations and ending with Brünnhilde thinking of her love and covering the Ring with kisses. The circle is imperfect, however, because music of the Ring and its curse naturally intrude on Brünnhilde’s musings.
Act I, Scene 2
Brünnhilde hears the once-familiar sound of a winged horse, and is hailed from afar by her Valkyrie sister Waltraute. Perhaps she is Wotan’s messenger, coming with news of her punishment’s reprieve! Or was Waltraute coming in envy to share in the unexpected delights her punishment brought her with Siegfried’s love? Waltraute asks her to control her excitement and listen to her carefully.
Wotan no longer sends the Valkyries to battle; even the heroes of Valhalla hardly see him, since he has been roaming the world as the Wanderer. Recently he returned with the pieces of his Spear, a hero shattered. He sent the heroes out to hew the World-Ash Tree and pile the logs around Valhalla, then summoned the gods and heroes in rings of council around his throne. So he sits, not touching Freia’s apples, sending only two ravens out into the world for news. The Valkyries clasped his knees, but he thought only of Brünnhilde, dreamily whispering that the world would be free if only she would return the Ring to the Rhinemaidens. Waltraute slipped out of the hall and rode to Brünnhilde to ask her this one thing—return the Ring!
Brünnhilde bluntly asks her sister if she is out of her mind. One glance at the Ring gives her more joy as a token of Siegfried’s love than all the splendor of Valhalla. She will never renounce love, even if it means the end of the gods! Waltraute flies away, crying woe to her sister and Valhalla.
Comment: Waltraute makes most of her case in a single narrative, which is most beautiful when she quotes Wotan thinking of Brünnhilde. She is like an expression of Brünnhilde’s reflective consciousness. Commentators find it easy to call Brünnhilde an embodiment of Wotan’s will and Fricka a personification of his conscience, but it isn’t typical to see Waltraute spoken of in this way regarding Brünnhilde. Perhaps women aren’t permitted singing character aspects in commentaries. It would explain the emotional, rather than rational, appeal of Waltraute’s case, which she drops as soon as Brünnhilde balks. This one would never make a name for herself as a courtroom attorney.
The fire around the mountain flares up again, signaling that someone approaches. Brünnhilde hears the familiar horn call, and rises ecstatically to greet Siegfried—but an unfamiliar form appears through the now-receding fire. It is Siegfried, but with the Tarnhelm on his head, in the guise of Gunther. Brünnhilde declares herself betrayed, and asks who this is who violates her. A mortal, or one of hell’s warriors? Siegfried says he is a Gibichung, and Gunther is the name of the hero she must follow. She lashes out at Wotan, who, she imagines, has decreed this as her final humiliation. Siegfried orders her into her cave, but she holds out the Ring at him for protection. He pounces on her and, after a violent struggle, wrests the Ring from her finger. She withdraws humbly into the cave. Alone, and in his natural voice, Siegfried draws his sword Notung, which he will lay between himself and Brünnhilde to witness his chaste faithfulness to his oath with Gunther.
Comment: Here Wagner indulges in the sadistic and prolonged humiliation of women that comes so naturally to creators of opera. It is painful to watch.
It’s a wonder Wagner didn’t let the underutilized Gunther actually take the stage in this scene and give the tenor much-needed rest. Siegfried is supposed to be disguising his voice to sound like Gunther (as if this role weren’t already hard enough), and much of his music is lower than his usual range. All this with a stupid helmet on his head!
It’s also strange that Siegfried can remember his sword’s name but can’t remember his wife. This scene ends with a remarkable lack of fuss considering the gargantuan chunk of theater that it concludes. To call it anticlimactic is not overstating the case.
Act II
Setting: An “exterior shot” of the Gibichungs’ Hall, with Hagen leaning against a pillar where we left him. There is an open space, and the banks of the river. In the background are three stone altars for Wotan, Fricka, and Donner, respectively.
Hagen is leaning on his spear maintaining his watch, perhaps asleep even though his eyes are open. It is night. As moonlight appears, we see Alberich approach and crouch before Hagen. He asks if Hagen his son is sleeping, or can he hear his father whom sleep and rest have long betrayed? Hagen mutters that he hears the hateful gnome, and asks what message he bears him in his sleep. Alberich advises Hagen to remember his might, if he has inherited strength from the mother who bore him. Hagen says he has his mother’s strength, but little reason to thank her. She was a victim of the gnome’s evil plans, and now he, Hagen, is prematurely old and hates those who are happy. Hate the happy! echoes Alberich, and thus love me! He no longer fears Wotan, who was overthrown by his own offspring and must soon perish. Who inherits the gods’ power? asks Hagen. I—and you! replies Alberich. The Volsung (Siegfried) gained authority when he won the Ring, but he does not know its power and therefore even the curse is weakened. He must be destroyed. He is already heading toward his doom, answers Hagen. Alberich exclaims that there must be no delay. If the wise woman who loves him ever persuades him to return the Ring to the Rhinemaidens, all would be lost; but Hagen, bred to hate, can win it in defiance of Wotan and the Volsung. Does Hagen swear it? Hagen advises calm; he will have t
he Ring. But swear it, urged Alberich. I have sworn it to myself, counters Hagen. Alberich withdraws, repeating, “Be true, my son!”
Comment: This bass-to-bass encounter is excellently swarmy, with both characters trying to outdo each in evil. The narcoleptic Hagen tries to assert his independence from his father while simultaneously submitting to him. Later in the act, it will be seen that his stupendous “Hoi-ho” cry to the vassals is really an amplified echo of Alberich’s parting notes, where he says “Be true!”
The sun rises, and Siegfried bounds out of the bushes, greeting Hagen. Hagen asks where he came from, and Siegfried answers that he came directly from Brünnhilde’s rock, from which he “wished” himself, by means of the Tarnhelm, back to the Gibichungs’ Hall. Gunther and Brünnhilde are following in a boat. But where is Gutrune? Hagen calls her forth, and she asks Siegfried for details of his adventure. She is particularly anxious to know exactly what went on between Siegfried and Brünnhilde on this trip to the rock, but Siegfried assures her that Notung formed a barrier between their bodies. Hagen spots the sail of the boat coming up the river, and Gutrune excitedly bids him call the vassals to the hall for the wedding feast, while she leaves with Siegfried to gather the women.
Hagen ascends a rock in the middle of the open space and calls the vassals to gather, using his horn and his voice, as if to battle. Bring weapons and make haste, for there is great danger!
The men gather in great excitement. What is the danger? Who is the foe? Gunther arrives with a bride, proclaims Hagen. Does danger threaten him? ask the vassals. Hagen replies that Gunther brings a formidable wife. Does her family pursue? ask the vassals, still not grasping Hagen’s peculiar sense of humor. No, they come alone, unfollowed. Then why assemble the warriors? Why the call to arms? You must slaughter a steer for Wotan, kill a boar for Froh, and a goat for Donner, but kill sheep for Fricka, that she may bless the marriage. And then what? ask the vassals. Then you must let your wives fill your drinking horns and revel until you pass out! The vassals finally understand that Hagen is calling them to celebrate, and it must be a special day indeed if ever the grim Hagen can be so merry. They laugh and carouse until Hagen sees the boat approaching, bidding the vassals to welcome their new queen. Greet her and be quick to avenge her if she is ever harmed!
Comment: Here we have Hagen trying to start a party among a crowd of Gibichungs who are as slow-witted as he is dour. No matter. This scene can raise the dead. Fantasies of singing Hagen’s “Call to the Vassals” keep basses alive through years of music school and provincial tours. When the vassals come onstage, we are treated to the first chorus in the entire Ring (not counting two collective screams from the Nibelungs in Das Rheingold). And what a chorus it is! The power of the men’s voices, singing fortissimo almost the whole time, is overwhelming after all the intimate confrontations of the Ring. Within the exuberant revelry, listen for hints of doom and disaster in the orchestra.
Gunther presents Brünnhilde, who remains with her eyes downcast, to the Gibichungs amidst noisy acclamations. Gutrune and Siegfried arrive followed by the Gibichung women. Gunther hails the two happy couples by name. Upon hearing “Siegfried,” Brünnhilde raises her eyes and trembles violently. Gunther lets go of her hand and wonders, with all the others, if she is demented. “Siegfried, here! Gutrune?” she mumbles. Siegfried answers that Gutrune won him as Gunther won Brünnhilde. “You lie!” she exclaims, and then staggers as if fainting. Siegfried helps her as she staggers, calling Gunther to help his bride. Brünnhilde sees the Ring on his finger and cries out. Hagen advises the vassals to listen well to the woman. The Ring does not belong to Siegfried, she cries, but to Gunther who wrested it off her hand! She tells Gunther to claim the Ring he took from her back from Siegfried, but he is confused and knows nothing about any ring. Suddenly, Brünnhilde understands that it was Siegfried who tore the Ring from her finger, and she calls him a liar. Siegfried says he won the Ring from the dragon he slew at Neidhöhle, but Hagen urges Brünnhilde on. If she truly recognizes the Ring, then there must some deceit in this matter. Brünnhilde screams that there is a treachery, deceit more vile than any ever known! She asks the gods if this, too, was part of her punishment, and calls on them to aid her in her vengeance. Gunther begs her to be calm, but she casts him aside, calling him a “betrayer, self-betrayed.” She announces to the assembly that she is already married—to Siegfried!
The hero steps forward to proclaim his innocence. Though he wooed Brünnhilde for Gunther, his sword remained between them. She craftily says that his sword remained in its sheath when its master won his beloved (which was true, the first time around). Gunther and Gutrune both beg Siegfried for reassurance, while the vassals demand an oath. Hagen offers his spear as voucher for the oath, and Siegfried puts two fingers on its tip, saying the spear may strike him dead if he has broken faith with Gunther. Brünnhilde then grabs the whole spearhead in her hand, dedicating its point to the death of the shameful liar who has perjured himself. Siegfried calls on Gunther to control his wife, whose wild mountain ways will calm in time. Enough of scolding women! he says, but privately he confesses to Gunther that perhaps the Tarnhelm only half hid him. Still, women’s anger abates quickly. He invites the vassals and the women to join him at the festivities, and leaves with the assembly.
Comment: Apparently, the medieval Germans conceived of marriage as a sort of rape with choral accompaniment. Here we get “Brünnhilde Ballistica,” and the score includes all the vocalizing to be expected from a violated diva. We also finally hear a chorus of women singing along with the men in this scene.
Hagen, Gunther, and Brünnhilde remain, silently pondering the situation. Brünnhilde asks, as if to herself, what devilry is afoot here. She has passed her power and her wisdom to Siegfried. Who will vindicate her and break her bonds to the traitor? Hagen offers himself as her champion, but she is unimpressed. What could Hagen do against Siegfried? One flash of his heroic eyes could defeat Hagen. Craftily, he agrees with her, but asks if there is no way in which Siegfried is vulnerable. No, she answers, she used all her runes to protect his body in battle. However, he could be struck in the back. She knew he would never show his back to a foe, so she neglected to shield it with magic. “That’s where my spear will strike him!” exclaims Hagen. He urges Gunther to the deed, who does not stir. That would be shameful. He is caught in his own fraud. What will he do? He asks Hagen for advice, but Hagen replies that nothing can help him, no brain nor hand, nothing but Siegfried’s death!
Brünnhilde and Hagen take turns urging Gunther and shaming him with cowardice, until at last Hagen tells him in an aside that killing Siegfried means infinite power through the Ring. This convinces Gunther, whose only concern now is for Gutrune. Brünnhilde has no concern for Gutrune, while Hagen advises telling her nothing of the plot. There will be a hunting party in the morning, and Siegfried will be killed by a boar. The three join in an oath, Gunther and Brünnhilde calling on Wotan to avenge their wrongs, while Hagen calls on his father Alberich, the Lord of the Ring, whom all will obey once more.
The procession of vassals and women appear bearing Siegfried and Gutrune on shields. Gutrune tries to smile in a friendly manner to Brünnhilde, who does not respond. At last, Gunther takes hold of her as they are likewise carried off by the Gibichungs toward the altars of the gods for the wedding sacrifices.
Comment: The chorus does not sing at the end of this exciting act, yet there is still a tremendous feeling of climax after the “oath trio.” Almost everyone loves Act II of Götterdämmerung for its unceasing drama and sweep. Shaw, of course, griped about the trappings of grand opera, such as the chorus and, gasp! an oath trio, while Newman found himself able to call this act “in some ways Wagner’s supreme achievement in the art of music drama.” This just goes to show that facts can be arranged to agree with whatever agenda the writer is promoting. All we need to know is that it is thrilling, be it grand opera, music drama, or whatever.
Act III, Scene 1
Setting: A wooded
valley on the banks of the Rhine.
The three Rhinemaidens appear in the river, swimming while they sing a pretty but melancholy song to the sun. How bright Lady Sun’s rays appeared when they danced on the Rhinegold at the bottom of the river! If she would only send them the hero who would return the Ring, then the Rhinemaidens would envy her rays no more! Woglinde hears Siegfried’s horn, and the three sisters dive under the water to await him.
Siegfried appears in the clearing by the river. An elf led him astray, and now he has lost both his hunting party and the bear he was chasing. The Rhinemaidens surface, and tease Siegfried flirtatiously. He asks them if they are hiding the bear he was chasing. If the bear is their lover, he is happy to leave it to them. Woglinde asks what Siegfried will give them if they give him the beast, but he says he has nothing to give. His hunting bag is empty. Wellgunde points out the Ring Siegfried wears on his finger, and the Rhinemaidens together ask for it as a prize. This Ring, he explains, I won in battle with a dragon—too great a prize for a meager bearskin! The Rhinemaidens ask him if he is always so cheap. He should be generous with women. But then, he answers, his wife would scold him. Does she beat you? they ask, laughing. Laugh if you will, he says, but you’re not getting the Ring. So handsome, so strong, so attractive, they each say. What a pity he’s so cheap! They laugh as they dive underwater.
Siegfried runs to the riverbank and holds the Ring over the waters. The Rhinemaidens may have the Ring if they want it! They resurface, much more serious than before. Let Siegfried keep the Ring until he learns of its curse! He calmly puts it back on his finger as they warn him of its dangers. As he slew the dragon, so he shall be slain—this very day! Only the Rhine can wash away the curse. The Norns have decreed this in their rope of destiny. Siegfried is unmoved. Notung slew the dragon, it will do the same to the Norns’ rope. He will not be threatened into surrendering the Ring. The sisters agree to leave the doomed madman who does not keep oaths and who does not value secret wisdom. A proud woman will give them their Ring that day. They swim off, singing.