Melbourne Opera’s Die Walküre in Bendigo more than lived up to the promise of the opener, Das Rheingold. This time, the scrim in place in Suzanne Chaundy's production before the start depicted a cloudy moody sky. Using the same basic set as before – a large platform with a central circular cut-out which could be raised and lowered – this episode opened with the platform in raised position and the world ash tree growing up through the aperture. A sturdy picnic style table, looming side walls with a fireplace on one side, and what looked like shrouded figures (or possibly roots) around the base of the tree completed the setting. Sieglinde pottered around the table, busy with a small mortar and pestle.
Into this setting burst Siegmund, in travel-worn clothes and signifying his identity by a chunk of wolf-skin in his belt. The instant coup de foudre between him and Sieglinde was convincing, and the romantic tension between them well portrayed. Hunding was suitably menacing and the singing, all round, was stunning. For Act 2, the domestic setting disappeared and the platform lowered to reveal Wotan, with Brünnhilde in shimmering silver against a blue sky background. Fricka was more splendidly gowned here than in Rheingold perhaps in keeping with her new status of chatelaine of Valhalla. Brünnhilde’s re-entry to Fricka’s and Wotan’s frank and free exchange of views exactly reflected that moment when you walk into the middle of a domestic. The depiction of the relationship between Wotan and Brünnhilde was as moving here and especially in Scene 3 as I have ever seen it.
For the opening of the third act, Valkyries on sway-poles above the stage accompanied by a rousing performance of their Ride drew audience appreciation. The eight Valkyries were appropriately loud but tuneful, and included stalwart soprano Rosamund Illing. For the final setting, an array of rectangular uprights created a platform for the sleeping Brünnhilde and while the summoned Loge did not appear in person, a ring of fire manifested itself around her sleeping form and its smoke rose up and engulfed her, awaiting the appearance of the hero next week. One small surtitle translation quibble: I’m not sure that “slave” is really the correct translation of “Knecht”; it’s emphasising a status difference, maybe “vassal” or something.
Anthony Negus again led the orchestra in perfectly judged pacing, and the horns seemed well under control this time around, with some very nice oboe playing. The singing was little short of magnificent. As Sieglinde, Lee Abrahmsen was astounding. Just when you thought she couldn’t get any better, she seemed to step up another gear, unleashing skeins of thrilling, accurate, powerful gleaming notes. Her acting was commensurate and the interaction with James Egglestone’s Siegmund was compelling, sung with fire, conviction and lovely tenor phrasing. Adrian Tamburini was a nicely dark Hunding, deserving some appreciative boos at the end.
Warwick Fyfe’s Wotan continued the thoughtful approach evident in Rheingold, visibly weighing the significance of his decisions, giving in to anger at the wayward Valkyrie but remorseful at the need to punish her. His resonant bass filled the hall with a warm enfolding sound. Brünnhilde was sung by Antoinette Halloran; at first she sounded a little uncertain with respect to intonation, but her voice settled into a clear and ringing soprano. Her initial entrance exuded youthful exuberance, later reflecting a chastened remorse. One looks forward to her developing character. Sarah Sweeting’s Fricka maintained her dignified annoyance at Wotan’s carryings-on, and sang with smooth confidence. Overall, as good a performance of Die Walküre as one could wish.
