Post by darkehmen on Mar 16, 2008 4:14:18 GMT 1
So my DVD of Das Rheingold finally arrived the other day, and the film is even better than I remembered it, due in no small part to the phenomenal job that DG has done with the transfer. The colours are all crisp and fresh and clear -- far more so than in the laserdisc release -- and the sound is improved still further.
Since there are now two legitimate Rheingold videos on the market (this, and the Levine/Met version), we have a rare opportunity for a comparative review of a Wagner film -- something that is impossible for almost any other Wagner opera at the moment, since, in most cases, there is only one acceptable choice.
In terms of sound, it isn't even a contest. The Karajan version is so far superior to Levine's, it's embarrassing. How much of this is due to better recording or mastering is hard to tell, but after hearing the Karajan version, then turning to Levine, one is left asking, "Where as the strings?" It sounds as if Levine is playing with a string section that is at best half the size of Karajan's, and they are either buried, or playing from another hall. In the musical highlight of the opera (Donner's aria, in which he summons the mists), the double basses thrum in a truly threatening manner in Karajan's recording, like booming thunder. In Levine's, they are barely audible.
The brass, on the other hand, is reasonably present in Levine's version (still not as powerful as Karajan's, but then, trombones can always make themselves heard, even from a cave), yet still, the impression is poorer. While the brass makes a strong initial impact in Levine's performance, the notes do die off, in a way that HvK never would have tolerated.
(Karajan's famous dictum about holding notes for their "full value" wasn't just an oft-heard phrase, but referred to a specific style of music making, and when a conductor fails to achieve this, the music suffers.)
The sound of the Nibelungs' hammers in Karajan's version is a menacing clanging. In Levine's it sounds like the plinking of tin cans.
The most startling difference, musically, is the emergence of the giants. This is one of the high points of Karajan's version. Their orchestral introduction is played in a powerful manner, a way that augments the giants' fearful stature. Karajan's accompanying visuals amplify the effect, as the camera does a rare tracking shot around the stage during their grim, deliberate approach.
By contrast, Levine takes the giants' into at about half the speed of Karajan, giving them a clumsy, lumbering sound. Not only is it musically less satisfying, it speaks to the differences in the productions as a whole. In Karajan's film, each of the personages has a towering stature, a grandeur and dignity befitting their role as gods. In Levine's version, while the characters are not exactly parodied, they are nevertheless much diminished.
The two characters that are particularly well realized in Karajan's film are Wotan and Loge. Wotan really does seem like he could be the ruler of the universe, so noble and majestic is his bearing. Loge -- the "star" of Karajan's video -- is, from the moment he appears, obviously the most intelligent presence on stage. Although he doesn't break the third wall, one still feels that he is engaged in a special conversation with the audience.
(This may be a bit far-fetched, but to me, these two individuals, Wotan and Loge, have a relationship in Karajan's film that reminds me of Kaiser Wilhelm I and Bismarck, with Wotan representing the monarch of the old aristocratic order and its ideals, and Loge being the clever adviser whose realpolitik is required for those ideals to be practically realized in the real world.)
In the Met version, Wotan seems too young, and much diminished -- not convincingly a ruler of anything, least of all of the pantheon of the gods. And Loge is the weakest element in Levine's film (due largely to Siegfried Jerusalem's stumbling performance). Levine's Loge is portrayed as more of a jokester, but in a way that almost makes him parodic.
Karajan's filming technique is infinitely superior to that of the Met film. Karajan's frequent close-up draw one into the inner world of the gods. The slightly upward-tilted shots give these deities a monumental quality -- they seem physically larger than human beings. In the Levine video, which is dominated by middle-distance and long shots, the actors seem overpowered by the sets, which literally and figuratively diminish them in stature. To put it in a nutshell, in the Karajan film, we look up at the gods; in the Met video, we look down on them.
The only area in which the Levine film probably has the advantage is in costuming. The Met wardrobe is more organic, more in keeping with the naturalism of the set design. The wardrobe styling for Freja is particularly lovely -- a garland in her hair, and clad in a delicate, flowing feminine gown offering a glimpse of decolletage, amplifying her identity as the goddess of the spring, the goddess of beauty.
Loge's costume, however, is too organic in the Levine film, looking like something out of a sci-fi TV show.
The props, on the other hand, are all more impressive in Karajan's film. Donner's hammer looks like a mighty weapon in HvK's production, while in the Met film, it looks like something out of the Flintstones. (One can go too far with naturalism.) Wotan's spear is also much more imposing in Karajan's version.
When it comes to the depiction of the hall of the gods, the respective designs achieve different effects. Valhalla is more realistically architectural in the Levine film, but more translucent and idealized in Karajan's.
The dragon in the Levine film is entertaining, if inevitably a bit "stagey," but in Karajan's film, it is more of a weird, Lovecraftian creature, ugly and eerie. It's hard to say which achieves the better effect.
Erda is the only true disappointment in Karajan's film, and could certainly have been done better. (She could hardly have been done worse.) But that is a relatively minor flaw in what is otherwise a great film.
Oh, and others may disagree, but I find Karajan's Rhine episode completely marvellous. One really does believe that the maidens are swimming in the Rhine. In the Levine film, the stage merely has a sickly greenish hue, but in Karajan's version, the environment genuinely resembles the watery depths -- dark, but with light shining in from above. Karajan's cinematography is quite extraordinary, especially impressive in the moment when one of the Rhine-maidens is illuminated by the gold.
A word of advice: It is essential to turn down the brightness/contrast on your television when you view the film. The DVD isn't as over-bright as the laserdisc was, but still, if you have a brightness/contrast adjustment on your TV (as most plasma screens do), then turn it down, way down, and you will find that the opening Rhine sequence achieves a convincing undersea effect. And keep your TV at this dark setting throughout the film, as it makes the underground scenes more convincing as well. I'm certain that if Karajan had been alive to supervise the mastering of this DVD, he would have required the transfer to be appropriately dark.
Since there are now two legitimate Rheingold videos on the market (this, and the Levine/Met version), we have a rare opportunity for a comparative review of a Wagner film -- something that is impossible for almost any other Wagner opera at the moment, since, in most cases, there is only one acceptable choice.
In terms of sound, it isn't even a contest. The Karajan version is so far superior to Levine's, it's embarrassing. How much of this is due to better recording or mastering is hard to tell, but after hearing the Karajan version, then turning to Levine, one is left asking, "Where as the strings?" It sounds as if Levine is playing with a string section that is at best half the size of Karajan's, and they are either buried, or playing from another hall. In the musical highlight of the opera (Donner's aria, in which he summons the mists), the double basses thrum in a truly threatening manner in Karajan's recording, like booming thunder. In Levine's, they are barely audible.
The brass, on the other hand, is reasonably present in Levine's version (still not as powerful as Karajan's, but then, trombones can always make themselves heard, even from a cave), yet still, the impression is poorer. While the brass makes a strong initial impact in Levine's performance, the notes do die off, in a way that HvK never would have tolerated.
(Karajan's famous dictum about holding notes for their "full value" wasn't just an oft-heard phrase, but referred to a specific style of music making, and when a conductor fails to achieve this, the music suffers.)
The sound of the Nibelungs' hammers in Karajan's version is a menacing clanging. In Levine's it sounds like the plinking of tin cans.
The most startling difference, musically, is the emergence of the giants. This is one of the high points of Karajan's version. Their orchestral introduction is played in a powerful manner, a way that augments the giants' fearful stature. Karajan's accompanying visuals amplify the effect, as the camera does a rare tracking shot around the stage during their grim, deliberate approach.
By contrast, Levine takes the giants' into at about half the speed of Karajan, giving them a clumsy, lumbering sound. Not only is it musically less satisfying, it speaks to the differences in the productions as a whole. In Karajan's film, each of the personages has a towering stature, a grandeur and dignity befitting their role as gods. In Levine's version, while the characters are not exactly parodied, they are nevertheless much diminished.
The two characters that are particularly well realized in Karajan's film are Wotan and Loge. Wotan really does seem like he could be the ruler of the universe, so noble and majestic is his bearing. Loge -- the "star" of Karajan's video -- is, from the moment he appears, obviously the most intelligent presence on stage. Although he doesn't break the third wall, one still feels that he is engaged in a special conversation with the audience.
(This may be a bit far-fetched, but to me, these two individuals, Wotan and Loge, have a relationship in Karajan's film that reminds me of Kaiser Wilhelm I and Bismarck, with Wotan representing the monarch of the old aristocratic order and its ideals, and Loge being the clever adviser whose realpolitik is required for those ideals to be practically realized in the real world.)
In the Met version, Wotan seems too young, and much diminished -- not convincingly a ruler of anything, least of all of the pantheon of the gods. And Loge is the weakest element in Levine's film (due largely to Siegfried Jerusalem's stumbling performance). Levine's Loge is portrayed as more of a jokester, but in a way that almost makes him parodic.
Karajan's filming technique is infinitely superior to that of the Met film. Karajan's frequent close-up draw one into the inner world of the gods. The slightly upward-tilted shots give these deities a monumental quality -- they seem physically larger than human beings. In the Levine video, which is dominated by middle-distance and long shots, the actors seem overpowered by the sets, which literally and figuratively diminish them in stature. To put it in a nutshell, in the Karajan film, we look up at the gods; in the Met video, we look down on them.
The only area in which the Levine film probably has the advantage is in costuming. The Met wardrobe is more organic, more in keeping with the naturalism of the set design. The wardrobe styling for Freja is particularly lovely -- a garland in her hair, and clad in a delicate, flowing feminine gown offering a glimpse of decolletage, amplifying her identity as the goddess of the spring, the goddess of beauty.
Loge's costume, however, is too organic in the Levine film, looking like something out of a sci-fi TV show.
The props, on the other hand, are all more impressive in Karajan's film. Donner's hammer looks like a mighty weapon in HvK's production, while in the Met film, it looks like something out of the Flintstones. (One can go too far with naturalism.) Wotan's spear is also much more imposing in Karajan's version.
When it comes to the depiction of the hall of the gods, the respective designs achieve different effects. Valhalla is more realistically architectural in the Levine film, but more translucent and idealized in Karajan's.
The dragon in the Levine film is entertaining, if inevitably a bit "stagey," but in Karajan's film, it is more of a weird, Lovecraftian creature, ugly and eerie. It's hard to say which achieves the better effect.
Erda is the only true disappointment in Karajan's film, and could certainly have been done better. (She could hardly have been done worse.) But that is a relatively minor flaw in what is otherwise a great film.
Oh, and others may disagree, but I find Karajan's Rhine episode completely marvellous. One really does believe that the maidens are swimming in the Rhine. In the Levine film, the stage merely has a sickly greenish hue, but in Karajan's version, the environment genuinely resembles the watery depths -- dark, but with light shining in from above. Karajan's cinematography is quite extraordinary, especially impressive in the moment when one of the Rhine-maidens is illuminated by the gold.
A word of advice: It is essential to turn down the brightness/contrast on your television when you view the film. The DVD isn't as over-bright as the laserdisc was, but still, if you have a brightness/contrast adjustment on your TV (as most plasma screens do), then turn it down, way down, and you will find that the opening Rhine sequence achieves a convincing undersea effect. And keep your TV at this dark setting throughout the film, as it makes the underground scenes more convincing as well. I'm certain that if Karajan had been alive to supervise the mastering of this DVD, he would have required the transfer to be appropriately dark.
