Viennese musical magic: Where Wagner Meets Argerich
During my September trip to Vienna, I had planned to attend a performance of Wagner’s “Tannhäuser” at the Staatsoper. However, with a sweltering heatwave enveloping the city, I decided to escape the midday sun. While browsing museums and galleries, I stumbled upon the Vienna Philharmonic’s website and discovered that a concert featuring the legendary pianist Martha Argerich would take place that same day at 11:00 a.m. Without hesitation, I secured the only available balcony ticket for €50. The day promised to be a remarkable journey into two temples of musical artistry: the Staatsoper and the Musikverein.
An 11 a.m. Sunday concert felt scandalously early, the pale dawn still lingering, yet I braved the hour and took the tram to the Musikverein. Although the recital was scheduled before noon, concertgoers arriving from all directions were dressed impeccably, as though stepping straight out of a solemn church service.
The concert hall sits on the upper floor, and reaching my balcony seat required climbing what seemed like endless stairs—fortunately, there was an elevator. Crossing the threshold of the famed Golden Hall, I was immediately struck by the “wow” factor. Seeing it in person far surpassed any impression I had gained from television. Magnificent and majestic, its finishes, stuccoes, sculptures, and paintings delight the eye with sheer beauty. Moments later, I would discover that the acoustics of the hall were equally phenomenal.
The program featured works by Russian composers: Prokofiev and Stravinsky. How I had missed Russian music – I truly long for it. I understand why it is scarcely performed in Poland today and accept that reality, yet I cannot help wishing for its return. The current geopolitical situation deprives us of full access to this rich cultural heritage.
The first half featured Sergei Prokofiev’s “Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Major, Op. 26,” performed brilliantly by the 84-year-old “teenager.” It is astounding how this grand dame of the piano can produce sounds with finesse, grace, and delicacy, yet strike with full fortissimo when required. Her hands danced across the keys with extraordinary agility. The performance was met with enthusiastic applause, and cheers and ovations seemed endless.
After the intermission, we were treated to Igor Stravinsky’s suite “Petrushka” in its original 1911 version, conducted by Tugan Sokhiev. The color and quality of the sound in this hall – and in this performance – were truly exceptional. Listening to these artists was like spreading soft butter on fresh bread: pure delight. The orchestra numbered about ninety musicians, with a relatively compact stage. A clever arrangement of successive rows on increasingly elevated platforms allowed the audience in the stalls to enjoy an excellent view of the ensemble.
Although my balcony seat offered a view of only a third of the stage – more suited for listening than watching – I found my visit to the Vienna Philharmonic immensely rewarding. A delightful bonus was observing the audience, which was both fascinating and, at times, outright amusing. During a concert, music lovers may scroll through their phones, nod off, study the program, convinced that no one is watching – pretend to conduct with their hands, stare at the ceiling, or engage in all sorts of private antics…
After the spiritual feast, it was time for something more tangible: a Viennese schnitzel. About halfway from the Musikverein to the Vienna Opera, a small bistro serves exceptional cutlets. The cheapest are chicken, mid-range pork, and the most expensive – veal, according to the original recipe. I opted for a “mix” to try each type; the veal schnitzel was clearly the winner. A salad with a refreshing, appetite-stimulating vinaigrette accompanied the meal. The portion was so generous that, despite my hunger, I could not finish it all. I asked for the remainder to be packed to go, sparing me the worry of dinner later.
After a stroll through Vienna’s streets, I made my way to the Opera. “Tannhäuser” is perhaps one of Wagner’s most accessible works. For those beginning their journey into his music, “Tannhäuser” and “The Flying Dutchman” are ideal starting points. The structure is nearly number-based: arias interweave with duets and ensemble scenes, enhanced by rich orchestration and impressive choral passages.
enhanced by rich orchestration and impressive choral passages.
The current production premiered at the end of last season, marking the farewell of music director Philippe Jordan. This season, Axel Kober conducts “Tannhäuser” – and does so with superb mastery. He guided the enormous ensemble with a steady hand, conveying both the nuances and the power of Wagner’s score, while acting as a vigilant partner for the soloists, maintaining balance between orchestra, singers and chorus.
The production is directed by the internationally acclaimed Lydia Steier, who – much to my delight – brought a contemporary touch to the staging. The first act, set in Venusberg, was envisioned as a fusion of the Moulin Rouge cabaret and a modern erotic club. Soloists, dancers and chorus wore costumes designed by Alfred Mayerhofer, perfectly aligned with this aesthetic. Gender play was prominent – women in male attire, men in cabaret outfits and high heels. A riot of colors, lights and props, including hanging trapezes, created a modernized vision of the mythical home of the goddess Venus.
In contrast, the second act, unfolding in the world of the senses, was orderly and formal. Audience members and participants gathered around tables draped in white cloths for the singing contest. Sets and video projections by Momme Hinrichs were rendered in light tones, with only Venus’ appearances highlighted by contrasting pink reflections.
The third act presented a post-catastrophe vision. Elderly men stared at broken monitors displaying the Virgin Mary. Microwave ovens lay scattered across a dark, industrialized space, illuminated suggestively by Elana Siberski. This contrast gave the scene an ambivalent character – evoking both the sacred and Elisabeth’s sacrificial dimension, while also showing the profanation and trivialization of holiness in the modern world. Choreography by Tabatha McFadyen added rhythm and cohesion to the ensemble scenes.
Among the performers, Clay Hilley stood out – a true Wagnerian tenor. He possesses a strong, enduring voice of remarkable timbre, capable of long phrasing and high notes without strain. After listening mainly to Andreas Schager this year, Hilley’s voice represented a qualitative leap, impossible to overstate. Despite challenging stage conditions, he proved a committed actor, skillfully fulfilling demanding directorial tasks and consistently portraying a man torn between hedonism, higher feelings and Elisabeth’s pure love. A superb vocal and dramatic performance.
Equally remarkable was Ekaterina Gubanova as the temptress Venus. What an artist! Stunning stage presence, feline grace and a magnificent voice. Gubanova is, in my view, one of today’s finest opera singers, commanding a rich mezzo-soprano across all registers while fully inhabiting her character. Camilla Nylund sang Elisabeth, and each encounter increases my admiration for her artistry – a beautiful, velvety soprano, with pure lines, elegant phrasing and expressive lyricism, endowing her character with devotion, innocence and selflessness.
Originally, Ludovic Tézier was to sing Wolfram, but Martin Gantner admirably replaced him in all performances, impressing the audience with a warm and lyrical rendition of “Song to the Evening Star.” Georg Zeppenfeld’s Landgraf was majestic—a bass of superb timbre throughout his range. The male octet (Minnesänger) at the start of Act II also impressed with harmonious ensemble singing. Other ensemble members included Jörg Schneider (Walther von der Vogelweide), Matheus França (Biterolf), Lukas Schmidt (Heinrich der Schreiber) and Marcus Pelz (Reinmar von Zweter).
Despite polarized opinions on Lydia Steier’s direction, I thoroughly enjoyed the production. Though uneven at times, it offered vivid imagery and striking contrasts – the sensual Venusberg set against the idealized Wartburg generating compelling dramatic tension. I was equally impressed by the visual elements: Momme Hinrichs’ monumental sets and projections, Elana Siberski’s evocative lighting and Alfred Mayerhofer’s superb costumes gave each act a distinct character. Even when some solutions seemed excessive or inconsistent, the daring staging and symbolic layering – the “images within “Tannhäuser” – imbued the production with energy and depth that resonated with me. The staging also had a clear queer dimension: Venusberg in Act I was depicted as a space of fluid identities, role reversals and gender play, culminating in a surprising and moving kiss between Wolfram and Tannhäuser in the final act, adding a fresh layer of emotional and interpretive nuance. Special applause goes to the powerful chorus, which filled the Vienna Opera House like a tsunami. Experiencing a choir of such quality, talent and strength is rare and unforgettable.