Wagner's 'Ring' Cycle (of Opera)

I seem to be on something of an 'art' kick at present, following on from Bergman's 'Faith' trilogy of films.
Perhaps both are a necessary counterpoint to the rash of crime novels and pulp fiction stories that I read in the previous two weeks.
But, which or whether, I've just decided to watch my Patrice Chereau DVD box-set of 'The Ring', ideally over four consecutive nights
(I'm not sure whether that is the preferred approach by Wagner groupies and afficionados).

Up until 20 years or so ago Wagner was only ever about 'The Ride of the Valkyries' for me, from that famous scene in 'Apocalypse Now', and the notion of 'Wagnerian doom'.
That is until I was living in London in the early 1990s, and got to hear live broadcasts of various of the opera, courtesy of BBC Radio Three.
Although doomladen chords predominated, I was pleasantly stunned by the great beauty of much of the work.

I didn't manage to catch the entire cycle during those BBC broadcasts, but I heard enough to shell out on two complete CD sets; one studio, and one live production
(at the time,the most acclaimed live prouduction, by Karl Bohm)

To date, though, I've yet to listen to the entire work, never mind over an abbreviated, and consecutive, period of time.
I subsequently acquired a number of other Wagner operas, - and opera by the two other giants of the musical form, Verdi and Mozart, - but I think 'Parsifal', which I have listened through completely a number of times, may be his most beautiful piece of work, musically speaking.

This viewing, and listening, I see as not just an opportunity to see one of the acclaimed theatrical productions of 'The Ring', but possibly as a preliminary step to attending a complete Ring cycle staging, - whether at Bayreuth, London's Covent Garden, or some other World Opera House equipped to do it full justice.

As for Patrice Chereau himself: up until a couple of years ago I had never heard of him, never mind his production of 'The Ring'; what led me to him was that while browsing the internet for DVD bargains, I noted that he had made a film, 'Gabrielle', which is based on a story by one of my favourite fiction-writers, Joseph Conrad; I watched the film shortly after purchase, which is a mark of how much I was looking forward to it, - and immediately loved it.
Which caused me to seek out more Chereau films.

Which brings me, full circle, to 'The Ring'

The Silence [Bergman 'Faith' Trilogy, 3 of 3)

Ingmar Bergman does 'Invaders From Mars'? - :its not as improbable as it might seem, particularly in the first half of the film, with its significant emphasis on the child's sense of wonderment and awe, a perspective heightened by the various long shots, overhead shots, and of long-distance tracking shots down a hotel corridor, a la 'The Shining'.

This isn't so much Bergman the Austere, as Bergman the Enigmatic, or of the lover of theatre.

In its enigmatic, and even occasionally surreal nature its more in keeping with the type of art-house director, then in vogue, such as Antonioni, and even reminds me of Polanski, of his wonderful early shorts and later films such as 'Cul De Sac', 'Repulsion' and 'The Tenant'.
(and, for the scenes in the train, perhaps a nod or two to 'The Phantom Carriage')

I suspect also in its central theme of the two very different sisters, and how they vie for the attention, and affection, of the son of the more sensual sister, Anna, its something of a pointer towards one of his great Masterpieces, 'Persona', as one often gets the sense of them being two sides of the same coin, and almost of certain elements of their personalities being interchangeable.

I love the way he also portrays the hotel where the sisters seek temporary refuge as some kind of hermetically-sealed environment: outside there is commotion, and vibrant street sounds, and suggestions of imminent warfare; inside there is chamber music and careful whispers.

Although the performances of Ingrid Thulin as the sickly Ester, and Gunnel Lindblom as Ana are never less than competent, this is more of a directors films, aided and abetted by his cinematographer lieutenant and his particular box of tricks.
I won't claim, as with say Bob Dylan's more obscure lyrics, to understand the significance of every shot, or even scene, but its a smorgasbord, enhanced rather than diminished by Bergman's frequent abrupt changes of pace and tone

Winter Light [Bergman 'Faith' Trilogy, 2 of 3)

The title seems to be a more aptly chosen one than the literal translation, 'The Communicants', of the Swedish title.
Despite the beauty of this, and a number of other shots, Nykvist's cinematography here isn't as artistic as in 'Through a Glass Darkly', but I'm sure that was a deliberate choice of director and cinematographer
I think this one shot, though, might be considered a perfect summation of what the film is all about, and so its perhaps appropriate that its an especially artistic one.

The film is essentially about a 'crisis of conscience' of the pastor, magnificently played, as always, by Gunnar Bjornstrand; the effect of his self-doubt on his parishioners, and the way the people who most care about him help him to re-affirm his faith.

I'm aware that Bergman's father was a pastor and that he had a difficult relationship with him, perhaps for most of his life, but I wonder to what extent the portrait of the pastor both in this film and the altogether different, but frequently magical, 'Fanny and Alexander' is a portrait of his father.
As with his fellow-Scandinavian, Dreyer, with whom he is often compared, I still felt there was a certain degree of playfulness on his part, among the almost prevalent austerity and bleakness.

As the title suggests, the light of Winter is a weak and bleak one, and the chill is not only an external one, but I felt certain elements of the pastor's musings, and especially the sacristan's climactic 'enlightenment' had more than a little element of knowing humour, and the film's all the better for it.

Bergman really stretches his troupe of actors here and they meet the challenge head-on: Ingrid Thulin's expressive face gives an acting tour de force during an extended 6 minute long close up, which, in a different way, reminded me of Dreyer's early Masterpiece, 'The Passion of Joan of Arc'.

Its not one of the greatest of Bergman's films, but in its own quiet, understated way, it is a great film.
And whats most impressive is the way Bergman sucks you in, particularly in those riveting prolonged close-ups, when his often funereal pacing would scupper many lesser directors

Through A Glass Darkly [Bergman 'Faith' Trilogy, 1 of 3)

What struck me more than anything on this my second viewing of 'Through A Glass Darkly' was the stunningly beautiful cinematography of Sven Nykvist.

Certainly Harriett Andersson's astonishing performance draws most of the plaudits, and rightfully so as it compares favourably with the best of the performances by the more acclaimed Liv Ullmann, but given that she is the emotional core of the film, the film, ultimately, will live or die depending on the viewer's reaction to it.
But Nykvist's use of light and shade, particularly in the indoor scenes, and most of those involving Andersson, helps create a world of alternately bleak and serene beauty.
When I first saw it, almost 20 years ago, I considered it to be the quintessence of Bergman for its bleakness and emotional intensity, but, the quality of the Criterion DVD print helps to better place it in its proper, fully drawn relief, as my previous viewing was of a somewhat sub-standard vhs recording from a television broadcast.

Gunnar Bjornstrand's less showy performance provides the perfect contrast to Andersson's; although Max Von Sydow is the most identified of the male Bergman stars,-perhaps because of his international roles, - for me Bjornstrand is consistently head and shoulders above all the others, as he is here.
I don't actually believe I've seen him in an English Language film, but I have good cause to believe that he could have eked out a very lucrative career as a character actor.

Interesting, in light of the comparisons I'm making with Wallander is that Sydow here looks remarkably like the actor who played Lina's father in the most recent 'Wallander' episode I saw: about the missing chorister

Wallander, and Swedish Society,.....and Bergman,.....

I've become something of a fan of the Swedish crime drama series, 'Wallander', - the original, Swedish production that is, - and, watching the latest episode last night, about a missing chorister, I once again mused over what the series various storylines might say about modern Swedish society, if it is indeed it was part of the author's intent to comment on modern-day Swedish society.

I've also often thought it would be interesting to compare and contrast with what I see as the closest it has to a British counterpart, - 'Inspector Morse'.

But I've also wondered what, if anything, the Swedish society of 'Wallander' has in common with the Sweden of Ingmar Bergman cinema, - particularly of the mature Bergman period, from, say, 'Wild Strawberries' onwards.

Which is why I've now decided to give his acclaimed 'Faith' trilogy of films another viewing.

As its often felt that this trilogy best reflects the essence of Bergman

Link to my Top 1,000 Films List

http://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=tvB_lKZc0D_oOCMakEPBw8Q&output=html

I Love The Night

Scan of the cover of my writing project: currently finalising character notes