Richard Wagner (1813 – 1883)
Romantische Oper in drei Akten
Uraufführung am 28. August 1850 in Weimar
Premiere an der Deutschen Oper Berlin am 15. April 2012
empfohlen ab 15 Jahren
4 Stunden 30 Minuten / Zwei Pausen
In deutscher Sprache mit deutschen und englischen Übertiteln
Introduction (in German language): 45 minutes before beginning; Rang-Foyer
- 2517:00JunSunD-Prices: € 136,– / € 100,– / € 72,– / € 44,– / € 26,–
- Repertoire // Last performance in this season0217:00JulSunD-Prices: € 136,– / € 100,– / € 72,– / € 44,– / € 26,–
Mit freundlicher Unterstützung des Förderkreises der Deutschen Oper Berlin e. V.
Election campaign in Brabant - Kasper Holten stages Wagner's LOHENGRIN as a timeless political power play in times of increasingly important media, in which images often achieve more than a thousand arguments. And even if the clichés used are well known, they still have an effect, whether in democracy or dictatorship: as a sovereign man of action, fighting the floods with a sandbag and rubber boots, as a caring father with a small child in his arms or as a virile hero, diving, climbing or in the cockpit of a fighter jet. Whether you can actually fly it is secondary, but it still looks good ... What counts is the pose, the staging of the hero - and the associated message: the radiant victor at the head of the state leads you to salvation. However, the question of how to reach the top of the state is often ignored. And so quite a few politicians who had shone brightest, most self-confidently into the cameras in this country, are no longer in office after the question about their past has brought unpleasant truths to light. “If you recognise him, he will have to withdraw from view”.
If we think of Lohengrin as the type of politician who is adept at harnessing the media, someone who surrounds himself with glorious images and grandiose myths to create a legend of himself as messianic figure, it is not hard to see him as a smoke-and-mirrors merchant, spying an opportunity to set up a new state, a new system, a new ideology in a region of disordered, dislocated German territories. Wagner’s words and music are packed with references that allow interpretations of this kind. One instance would be the ban on asking questions. Charged with the murder of her brother, Gottfried, Elsa’s life is in danger. Lohengrin offers himself as her champion, but there are conditions: before he agrees to defend her, he offers her a quid pro quo: she will marry him and never ask him who he is. Unsurprisingly, she agrees; what other action is open to her? A real cavalier would have inverted the sequence of events. And there is another occasion when Lohengrin betrays himself as an unfair partner for Elsa – when he placates her in her fear that he will leave her, saying that everything will be fine so long as she keeps her part of the bargain. Shortly afterwards he reveals that he was planning to leave after one year and return to his homeland. He was not interested in the woman but in the position that he could secure through her. Politics underpinned his actions; Elsa was the stage on which he would stamp and gesticulate. He was conducting an election campaign in Brabant, pure and simple.
Granted, Lohengrin’s political acumen, or Machiavellianism, hardly makes him the kind of devious plotter that we find in an Iago; that role goes to Ortrud, whose aim in thwarting the youthful pretender is to shore up the old order, with her husband Telramund as head of state. But seeing the Swan Knight as a consummate politician, idolised in spite of his manifest tricks, just goes to show that manipulation to political ends is often taken to be a necessary part of statecraft. A nervous, easily-led citizenry may even place far more value on overtly hypocritical parades of resilience, vitality and strength than on integrity, virtue and utopian do-goodism.
We might be tempted to consider Lohengrin, the media hero, attractive and to deem the tussle for power a sporting one, were it not for a looming war and a gathering call to arms. In the face of the bloodthirstiness running through Wagner’s work, and given the fact that whoever prevails in the showdown will lead thousands of men off to war, making widows of their wives, and considering the phoney insistence that war is an honourable undertaking and a worthy adventure for young men, any gesture that seeks to make light of such well disseminated propaganda instantly loses any semblance of authority. In a society where war is declared and men are called to fight on the basis of mottos such as “Death or glory” and “Those not for us are against us”, the mettle of principles of political reason and discernment is being tested, whether the establishment in question is a democracy or an authoritarian state claiming to be acting in the interests of its citizens.
Elsa has grasped all this. She has seen through Lohengrin and asks penetrating questions, revealing his egoistic drive for power, even though the disappearance of Gottfried has left no successor to the Duke of Brabant and she sees no alternative for her country. If the unmasked hero wishes to remain in power, he will have to get serious and show himself to be the self-appointed people’s protector or, in other scenarios, an “unimpeachable democrat”, because from now on people are watching him. He will have to assert himself without the myth as a shield, will have to renounce the charisma of someone purporting to be guided by a higher power. Then we will look at what remains.