Ring Cycling

It would be interesting to work out how many miles I cycled during this last week that I've spent in London. I visited Wandsworth, Maida Vale, Camden and Southwark, and much in between: rather satisfying, to be seven days in London without a freedom pass, but still paying nothing to get around. The chief hazard I identified was not from buses or lorries, but those fellow cyclists who zoomed past at twice my speed.

It's hard to imagine that 2013 will bring me a greater musical experience than the Proms Ring Cycle, which reached its conclusion last night in a packed and hushed Albert Hall. Too often in the theatre applause breaks out the second the curtain falls, without any savouring of the drama: Barenboim though held us spellbound, not just throughout the five and half hours of Götterdämmerung, but for a good few seconds following the final bar of music.

"It ain't over till the fat lady sings" goes the saying; which while true enough on Saturday, can't be said of this Götterdämmerung. Nina Stemme's physique gives no inkling of her vocal power - a superb Brünnhilde; and matched by the best Siegfried I've come across: Andreas Schager - a great actor with a heroic voice. How rare is that!

"Don't you get bored with seeing The Ring so often?" I'm asked. Far from it! Each time there's something you haven't noticed before. One of my favourite themes is that describing Freia's essential contribution to the vitality of her fellow Gods. "Golden apples grow in her garden," sings Fafner. But the same theme occurred last night when Hagen described his blood as "obstinate and cold" (in contrast to the "pure and noble" blood of Siegfried). And Brünnhilde's refusing Waltraute's request to give up Siegfried's love (or rather its token) is accompanied by the music first heard in the opening scene of Das Rheingold to illustrate the renunciation of love in very different circumstances.

Nobody goes to Götterdämmerung for the jokes, but those of us standing tightly-packed in a stuffy Proms arena could be forgiven for a snigger at Siegfried's words to an off-stage Hagen: "Come down! It's airy and cool here."

From left, my photograph shows Margarita Nekrasova (1st Norn), Schager, Anna Lapkovskaja (Flosshilde), Stemme, a sombre-looking Barenboim, the great Waltraud Meier (2nd Norn and Waltraute), Mikhail Petrenko (as at Cardiff in 2006, a Hagen to be feared - he received a pantomime "Boo!" at his curtain call), the ROH Chorus Director Renato Balsadonna, Maria Gortsevskaya (Welgunde), Aga Mikolaja (Woglinde) and Gerd Grochowski (Gunther).

Tristan und Isolde

If it was a mistake to go to the Proms last night, mid-Ring Cycle, for something different (albeit by the same composer), then it was at least an interesting mistake.

The sound world of Tristan und Isolde is shockingly abstract (compared even to that provided for Siegfried and Brünnhilde in the final scene of Siegfried). The opera moves along steadily in one great sweep: not a lot happens, but the undercurrents are immense. And it requires concentration, which it's harder to give when standing, as I was (mostly) last night: for the Ring, I've had, to date, the luxury of a box seat, so one can be comfortable, even jiggle round a bit.

Semyon Bychkov is no stranger to Tristan, but one feels the difference between his BBC (big blaring chords) Symphony Orchestra and the not-in-the-least Ring-rusty Staatskapelle Berlin. It seemed a performance with far lass sensitivity to the singers - or was it just less good singers? No, I think not. Two in particular shone out: Kwangchul Youn as King Mark and Mihoko Fujimura as Brangäne. Worth being there to hear them alone! Not that you can go wrong hearing any live music @ £1 an hour.

The photograph shows Robert Dean Smith and Violetta Urmana (in the name parts) with Bychkov.

Siegfried

A large black BMW passed me in Queen's Gate this afternoon, as I biked towards the Albert Hall. "NOT 2B" was its number. So, to while away the time during parts of my least favourite Ring segment, I counted the "Not to be" moments in Siegfried. Mime's plot to get hold of the Ring; Fafner's intent to live forever sitting on his horde; the Wanderer's bid for useful information from Erda, and then his attempt to bar the young hero's way to Brünnhilde; and finally her realisation on awaking that immortality was no longer to be.

"Least favourite" it may be for many - I spied empty seats around for the first time this week - but there are still many magic moments. The break the composer took at the end of Act 2 explains the thrilling gear change you always experience at the outset of the Act 3 Prelude. Last night, the hair at the back of my neck duly stood on end then: one would expect nothing less with this wonderful orchestra on the stage.

Barenboim's relationship with all its members is not always easy to fathom: there was another of those curious frissons last night, again at the end of Act II. Was it bashfulness or defiance, the first horn's failure to come on to acknowledge applause? He deserved the belated recognition Barenboim gave him - not just for his playing of the famous dragon-awakening call, but for carrying on undaunted by Lance Ryan (the boy hero) prancing around at his side, a splendidly surreal (two days running, that word) bit of theatre.

Generally Ryan looked the gawky part, and came into it, vocally, in the final scene, which ended with the audience fully bathed in golden love-fest light. Did he deserve his Brünnhilde? Well, to my ear Nina Stemme wasn't on such fine form as on Tuesday: it will be interesting to hear her on Sunday. the big one.

The other singers were excellent, dramatically and vocally, especially Kränzle as Alberich: his duet with Stensvold's Wanderer at the start of Act 2 was a highlight. And it makes such a difference, being in a hall light enough so you can follow the libretto when you want to - far preferable to straining at surtitles. How great too, not to have production values to complain about! ("There are two Rings taking place here: one by Castorf and one by Wagner." Thus Martin Kettle sums up this year's new Bayreuth production.)

ValhAlbert

I toyed with the idea of shutting myself in my study at home, and listening to the first Proms Ring Cycle on Radio 3, but I'm glad I decided otherwise: it's memorable, to put it mildly, being in the Albert Hall with so superb an orchestra, under a conductor who knows the score backwards (and for all his jewishness is self-evidently a Wagner lover), and a magnificent cast.

After Das Rheingold on Monday, the comment from next door was about how they might have acted more. I didn't mind that - though it was a bit uneven (some acting more than others). I particularly liked Loge in an MCC tie evoking the Ashes: "Spür' ich lockende Lust sie aufzuzehren." ("I am strongly tempted to burn them up.")

After last night's Die Walküre there could have been no such complaint, surely, about lack of drama. Notung was - hinted Sieglinde - embedded in Henry Wood's bust; the dead duly lay down and the sleeping were carried off (which was a pity, as Loge's ring of fire - summoned by Bryn Terfel with three first class stamps of his patent leather shoes - ran round the orchestra and a bare stage).

But no carping allowed! This was quite simply the best Die Walküre I've ever heard.