How to gain admittance to the seemingly perpetually-sold-out Wiener Staatsoper? I hadn't planned on the effort today, but walking past the opera house this afternoon, I was approached by a guy, a scam artist, with tickets to sell. When the ticket-seller's partner in crime tried to pull a bait-and-switch (one offering inexpensive tickets to the sold-out opera, and his cohort interrupting to say that those tickets had just been sold and all they had to offer were the ones for twice as much), I made it clear that I wasn't interested...and suddenly the cheap 20-Euro tickets appeared again, this time with decent seats in a loge toward the stage. Voila, coveted seats in one of the grandest opera houses in the world.
At intermission, several people were capturing the lush neo-Romantic interior, built in the 1860's, with their cameras, and I joined in the fun with my cell phone camera, aimed toward the ceiling.
Since I was able to hear Act I only (hoping to go back for another performance to see it all), I'll save detailed comments for later. The strings were in top form, but the brass suffered from chronic intonation problems. The set was remarkable, a fusion of minimalist black and white punctuated with bleeding orange and red when T&I drank the love potion. The enormous sliding and interlocking panels, vaguely reminiscent of Japanese architecture and alluding to video screens, with a surface skin that was simultaneously scrim-like and shiny like the newer Macs (if you opt for the glossy appearance on the screen), was utterly beguiling. The stark black and white design of the lighting, set, and clothing, echoing that of the set, completed the terrific visual contrast to the ultra-romanticism of the music. Costumes were somewhat clichéd---a kind of busty black hoop-skirt for Brangäne, trench coat for Tristan, long bushy train of black gauzy fabric for Isolde to manipulate. Expertly conducted by Leif Segerstam.
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