This has to be one of the most engrossing and satisfactory performances that I have encountered in my long experience of the opera. Pleasure derives as much as anything from the sense of a complete intregration of music and action in a staging that has been scrupulously rehearsed on all sides. This is a 1995 revival with the same cast as the 1993 original and it is clear how keen the response of the singers to each other is. The credit for one’s profound enjoyment undoubtably goes to the late, lamented Gotz Friedrich. Renowned for his handling of characters and their interaction on stage, his skills in that sphere have seldom if ever been more fruitfully displayed. The action and reaction of the masters in their Act 1 disputations, the subtle relationship between Sachs and Eva (with an obvious chemistry between them), the ebb and flow of the arguments between Sachs and Beckmesser, and the friendly interplay between Walther and Sachs, the disciple eagerly learning from the teacher in Act 1 scene 3, are all revelatory. In these and other scenes, more of the humanity of the characters is expressed than I ever recall being made manifest before. This is operatic acting on the highest level of achievement.
Fruhbeck de Burgos enhances the director’s approach with his chamber-like treatment of the orchestra, allowing the singers’ clear enunciation to be heard at all times. He is also to be commended for the discerning ebb and flow of his reading as a whole, which is at once lively and unforced. Wolfgang Brendel presents an affectionate, sympathetic, somewhat laid-back, ruminative Sachs, his voice lacking in warmth only at the bottom of his register, the sound more baritone than bass orientated. As we know from Covent Garden, Winbergh is a well-nigh ideal Walther, singing his role with unwonted ease and lyrical breadth, responsive always to the text’s meaning. Johansson is a knowing, flirtatious Eva, forthcoming in voice and mien; her earthbound start of the Quintet comes as a disappointment after her gloriously outgoing ‘O Sachs, mein Freund’. Schulte sings and acts Beckmesser to perfection, never resorting to caricature in depicting the self-important, didactic town clerk and giving the role a wealth of nuance, always keeping to the notes. Peper is a well-routined, likeable David, Von Halem an imposing, properly fatherly Pogner.
An attractive scale model of Nuremberg’s medieval skyline graces the first and last scene so that a jarring touch, the momentary vision of the bombed city, can be excused. Interiors look lived-in. The costumes straddle the centuries yet manage some kind of consistency. Act 2, after a magical, lilac-laden start, looked a shade cramped. As a whole, this is a performance to treasure. It has admirably balanced sound and perceptive video direction by the ultra-experienced Brian Large. Highly recommended.'