"Das Rheingold" from the Met

There's gold in them dar hills, so the saying goes. Weighing in at 45 tons, the gigantic set for the Metropolitan Opera's new production of Wagner's "Das Rheingold" was impressive more for its technological wonders than it was for its imaginative capabilities. The strength of the production was the fact that the cast was so strong, both vocally and dramatically, that it captured all the inherent drama of this morality tale with gold stars of their own.

A new production of "Der Ring des Nibelungen" is always a world event. Having seen the Met's last production of the four opera cycle eight years ago, my overiding memory is of sore legs from almost 19 hours of sitting in four evenings. The casting of that run was in no way comparable to the current cast, which includes the amazing Eric Owens' portrayal of Alberich, the madman who steals the gold from the Rhinemaidens at the bottom of the Rhine. The big thing about his portrayal was his intensity and great theatrical flair, wedded to probably the best bass-baritone in opera. The scene where he transforms himself first into a dragon, and then a toad, was the best one in the entire opera, and the visiual effects were stunning.

Bryn Terfel, the amazing Welshman with the beautiful base- baritone voice, just now coming to grips with heavier roles, impressed by his sensitivity, and the beauty of his highly polished German diction. He succeeds is giving a lieder-like intimacy to certain passages, and his monumental girth is an asset is protraying Wotan, the King of the Gods. Stephanie Blythe as his wife Fricka uses her huge voice with authority and poise, overcoming a terrible costume that makes her look far too frilly and frumpy. I loved Richard Croft as Loge, keeper of the flame so to speak, who handled this role with the mercurical temperment it so needs.

Getting back to that set. Here we have a giant steel frame of vertical girders that somehow manages to assume all sorts of geometrical shapes and sizes. When closed it becomes a giant screen, on which images of water, fire, and sky add enormously to the scenic effects. My favorite was the final tableaux, where Wotan leads his family over the rainbow bridge to Valhalla and his newly constructed castle. The singers are suspended in air on a huge platform that slants in a 70 degree angle to the right, a good 25 feet above the floor of the stage. The twilight sky gives way to thousand of stars, leaving the audience breathless, soon erupting into the biggest ovation I have witnessed at the Met in many years.

The true genius behind all this is James Levine. Up and about after months of back torture and operations, he was simply amazing with his magisterial approach to this score. One of the best accompanists for singers today, he molded the orchestra into a velvet glove of sound, at once luxurious but malleable and full of strength. So many details emerged, all showing superior judgment of great musicianship and character. The overriding feeling was one of great spaciousness and poise, allowing the music to unfold with wave after wave of sonic splendor.