Jessica Griffin

The announcement that the Philadelphia Orchestra would do two performances of Tristan und Isolde at the close of this season took many of us by surprise. Not because it’s an opera—the Orchestra has done a number of concert and semi-staged performances (La bohème last year, reviewed here), and of course we share our Music Director Yannick Nézet-Séguin with the Met.

But Tristan isn’t just an opera. For many it’s the opera, and to undertake it is a Gradus ad Parnassum for sure. And for those who want to cut to the chase: it was a glorious success on virtually level. I’m going back in a few days for the second and last performance. For those who want details, read on.)

The near-capacity audience for last Sunday’s performance, the first of two, felt more than usually charged-up, and an atmosphere of gravitas radiated from both the house and the stage. Gravitas is not a term one would usually apply to Yannick, universally known by his first name here in Philly, where he’s become something of a favorite son. His devoted audiences here know to expect a few distinctive things about him:

One is his loquaciousness—it’s very common for him to begin concert by bringing out a hand-mic and chatting with the audience. (A few days before, he’d introduced a program that culminated in the Beethoven 9^th by talking about the new restaurant in the Kimmel Center.) The other main feature for which Yannick is known is more musical—it’s his preponderance for fast tempi.

It says something about Tristan that neither of these was in evidence on Sunday. Entering quickly, after an appreciative nod to the audience, Yannick got things started without a word. And while the performance had forward momentum—comparing him to famous predecessors, it would be closer to Solti than Furtwängler—it too had gravitas, as well as a level of cohesiveness that belied his relative newness to the score. Only in a couple of places did he register as notably fast. One was a portion of the initial prelude, where the beauty of Philadelphia’s strings entering the music is something I will never forget. (Throughout, they played tirelessly and like gods!)

The other was the final “Mild und Leise,” which here emerged as surging and orgasmic, rather than reposeful. (Again, though maybe not for everyone, I found it spellbinding.) I wonder if the faster tempo was perhaps because it suited the Isolde of soprano Nina Stemme, whose presence—perhaps even more than Yannick’s—defined this event. Stemme, who for more than two decades has been the world’s preeminent Isolde, recently turned 62, and she had announced to the press that these two performances would be her farewell to the role.

Stemme’s thrillingly sweeping, dramatically detailed acting and textual specificity were no surprise, but what was even more gratifying is how much sheer voice she still has. The theater-filling amplitude, broad tonal color palate (from glowing top notes to sepulchral darkness in the low range), projection at both forte and piano – all this remains.

Jessica Griffin

Tonal beauty also often does, especially in floating pianos and trumpeted upper-middle range tones, though the highest notes are now cut off quickly. Time has not completely stood still; it isn’t always beautiful, there can be a beat in sustained notes, and her legato line is now suggested more through canny artistry than seamless steadiness. (As I said earlier, Yannick’s orgasmic Liebestod tempo suited her very well.) At times, she reminded me of a great Isolde from the past—Martha Mödl, who is more noted as a singing actor than flawless vocalist. In short, it’s wise of Stemme to say farewell to this role now—which she did with consummate class and virtuosity.

Her Tristan here, as he was memorably also at the Met nearly a decade ago, is Stuart Skelton. He is not as specific or comfortable a stage performer as Stemme (while this a concert production, there as a fair amount of movement on a raised platform), but he has a genuinely beautiful voice — a treasurable rarity in this role!. Tristan’s ranting narrative passages in Act III were actually sung with beautiful tone, clear diction, and touching sincerity… and in so doing, what is often the least persuasive section of this opera became a highlight.

Karen Cargill was a vocally glowing and dramatically engaged Brangäne. Her lovely, blonde-toned mezzo has the open upper register this role needs, and though she didn’t quite float “Einsam wachend” as I wished, it was still very effectively delivered, shimmering forth from the top-tier of Marian Anderson Hall, high above the stage. (Intriguingly, Cargill’s tone—vocally “blonde” rather than “brunette”—often sounded more soprano-like than Stemme’s. Cargill made me wonder if she could successfully take on Isolde herself, as I recall thinking years ago of another great Brangäne, Florence Quivar, who was superb in an otherwise mediocre Tristan in Los Angeles.)

Tareq Nazmi’s towering physical presence and enormous, darkly compelling bass made for a near-ideal King Marke. As with Skelton, he took a passage—what’s often called, not entirely flatteringly, “King Marke’s Harangue”—that can feel over-long, and made it a highlight. Kurwenal can be a fairly thankless role, but especially in his Act III interactions with Tristan, baritone Brian Mulligan made them musically and theatrically compelling.

Jessica Griffin

The smaller roles too were cast from strength. Tenor Freddie Ballentine (Melot) imbued the morally complex character with seriousness and a strong vocal presence. Nathan Schludecker’s secure baritone as a Steersman bodes for a strong career ahead. (He is currently pursuing a graduate degree at Curtis Institute of Music.) Tenor Jonghyun Park doubled as the Shepherd and as the Steersman who opens the opera—his fresh, gleaming tone in the latter’s opening unaccompanied song set a high standard for the rest and as he was situated in the second tier above the stage, gave it a thrilling sense of perspective. The Philadelphia Symphonic Choir, led by Donald Palumbo, were superb as always and as they had been just days before in the Beethoven 9^th.

While this Tristan was a concert presentation, and wisely without some of gimmicks that have hampered previous semi-staged productions, director Dylan Evans provided some dignified, basic but effective moves that were enough to convey the story’s basics. (After all, Tristan isn’t exactly action packed).

Yannick will of course be conducting next year’s highly anticipated Tristan production at the Met. I’m guessing that part of the appeal of his doing it here in Philly was to gain further experience. If so… mission accomplished!

It’s also touching to realize that this represents a rite of passage. Stemme and Skelton have reigned supreme in these roles; now we await the passing of the torch to Lise Davidsen and Michael Spyres.

I feel optimistic about what’s coming. Meanwhile, as I said earlier, I’ll be attending again at Sunday’s final performance. If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be spending 10 hours with Tristan und Isolde, I wouldn’t have believed you, but such is the magic of this event.