Die Walküre review – Kosky’s impressive production is filled with magic and threat | Royal Opera House

We’re in the midst of a musical journey, and the standout figure in the Royal Opera’s latest production of Diwarqueur—part of a new ring cycle under the direction of Barrykoski and Antonio Papano—stays enigmatic. Much like the premiere of Das Rheingold back in September 2023, we’re experiencing this show through the presence of Elda. She methodically unveils the world and spins it on a turntable right in front of the stage.

It’s quite an extraordinary performance, particularly with Natalia Romaniu debuting as Sieglinde, while Illona Linthwaite’s portrayal of Erda captivates. Erda appears in every scene, blessing the union between Sheekmond and Sieglinde as she scatters flowers reminiscent of Botticelli’s Spring. And when Flicka arrives in a vintage car—fur coats and fury in tow—guess who’s behind the wheel? It seems Kosky is using Erda’s physical presence to weave her into the intricate musical themes Wagner employs to embody various characters and concepts.

But what exactly does Erda symbolize if she’s a Leitmotif? Maybe she stands for Wotan’s sense of responsibility. The human realm certainly doesn’t flourish under his reign. If Raingold depicted Elda’s dream, Die Warkule kicks off as her nightmare, marked by an unsettling orchestral buzz during the Prelude as Siegmund rushes to Siegrinde’s door.

The costume for Victoria Bear seems to eschew specificity, but Sheikmond’s blue top and yellow hoodie hint at a Ukrainian aesthetic. The set by Rufus Didwiszus is notably dark: burnt wooden walls representing Sieglinde’s house and the ashes of a fallen world from Rheingold. A wild Valkyrie gathers the charred corpses, releasing them into ashes. Ultimately, all Walküre needs is an enchanting fire at the end, and it certainly delivers.

Koskie has mentioned that his vision for the ring was inspired by the aftermath of bushfires in his native Australia, and this theme of nature’s disarray permeates the performance without seeming overly preachy. There’s an element of buoyancy present, especially in scenes where the gods wield their powers effectively. The way they maneuver is expertly executed. Nevertheless, there’s a raw force present, particularly in Christopher Maltmann’s portrayal of Wotan. His look—bearded, dressed sharply—contrasts sharply with the brutal nature of his character. He’s not just a hands-off observer but takes matters into his own hands, ending Siegmund with a decisive act against his splintered sword.

While Romaniw’s fierce Sieglinde definitely shines, the representation of Ukrainian sopranos has brought a captivating energy across various roles. Elizabeth Strid’s stunning Brunhilde, although shining brightly, only seems to dim towards the end. Marina Prudenkaya gives a powerful performance, while Howard’s policeman carries his burden effectively. Maltman’s rich baritone imbues a velvety depth; his softer notes manage to sway the melody, but the thrill remains even when the orchestra plays at full volume.

This all comes together under Pappano’s determined guidance. His quicksilver control highlights the orchestra’s brilliant nuances while ensuring the focus remains on the singers. The tension he creates is palpable, and the orchestra responds fantastically to his direction. He unites the entire ensemble on stage for applause at the finale.