⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 

Siegfried is sometimes called the ‘scherzo’ of the Ring; but if that should make it the most popular, something has gone awry. Always the most difficult to ‘sell’, there is a palpable darkness at the music-drama's heart. There are only two female voices, one a Woodbird, the other Brünnhilde (who sings only at the end). There is also a shift in Wagner’s style of writing (the first two acts were completed by August 1857; he then composed Tristan and Meistersinger, returning to Siegfried in 1869), resulting in a palpable gain in harmonic/motivic technique.

Regents Opera’s performance was heard, as usual, in a hyper-skilful reduction by the conductor, Ben Woodward (the only section retaining heft, the horns - and what a fine horn call from Francesca Moore-Bridger!). There was perhaps another powerful component here, the shadow of what might have been. Keel Watson impressed beyond compare in both Rheingold (Opera Now, Feb 23) and Walküre (Opera Now, Oct 23). Watson sadly passed away in November 2023. The Wanderer already carries the weight of the world on his shoulders; perhaps for Watson’s replacement, Ralf Lukas, it was doubly so.

Craig Lemont Walters plays Fafner

Caroline Staunton’s staging enhances Siegfried’s dramatic power. In the first act, a dodgy light in Mime’s lamp is repaired by an 'electrician' (Wanderer/Wotan). Wagner’s indication that Siegfried enter 'driving a large bear' finds the youth clutching a teddy bear (the childhood and parents he never had). A programme essay refers to 'forging the self'; while Siegfried himself forges a sword, he himself is forged from boy to awakened man-hero.

'Each member of the orchestra deserves a medal'

Art runs through Staunton's Ring, from the exhibition space of Rheingold through the parade of classic paintings (the departed) in Walkure. In Siegfried’s second act, video monitors flicker into arty life and back to static again; the Woodbird, in an expanded if silent role, is the gallery’s host. A box, installation art, at one end of the stage is ‘Fafner’s lair’. Perhaps the greatest surprise is the scene between Alberich and Wanderer, rendered as vaudeville (to fine effect, as if Staunton’s staging is itself mocking the idea of Siegfried as scherzo, as ‘joke'). In the final act, a white space represents infinite possibility, manifest in the freedom of the Woodbird herself; a clear turning point enabling new paths forward.

The titular character was Heldentenor Peter Furlong, untiring throughout; the final scene, with the force-of-nature Catherine Woodward as Brünnhilde, found two vocal giants at their height. Craig Lamont-Walters was a strong, slithery, golden-jacketed Fafner. Alberich was baritone Oliver Gibbs, in magnificent form, Alberich and Wanderer are presented as different aspects of one self, and Gibbs and Lukas relished the idea. Lukas was more than a stand-in for Watson, his Wanderer strong and individual, tormented, visceral. Corinne Hart has all the vocal mobility the Woodbird requires, plus real presence.

A white-clad Erda, Mae Heydorn, offered a creamy mezzo, her attire surely linking to the white smear across Wotan’s face (a laceration-like loss of purity). Tenor Holden Madagame (a passionate trans activist who started his career as a mezzo) is a ‘cheeky-chappie’ Mime, his energy unusually bright.

Each member of the orchestra deserves a medal, and watching Woodward reveals how his intimate, bar-by-bar knowledge is welded to keen structural awareness. Patrick Malmström's lighting is impeccable. The fall of the Gods is eagerly awaited.