Spectacular grandeur
Karajan’s Salzburg “Rheingold” in the Digital Concert Hall Spectacular grandeur Karajan’s Salzburg “Rheingold” in the Digital Concert Hall

Wagner’s “Ring” lay at the heart of Herbert von Karajan’s sensational launch of the Salzburg Easter Festival in 1967. A recording of “Das Rheingold” in the Digital Concert Hall now offers a fascinating retrospective.

When the Berliner Philharmoniker and Kirill Petrenko return to the Salzburg Festival to perform Wagner’s Ring cycle, their endeavour is a clear nod to history. It was with this work that Herbert von Karajan inaugurated the Salzburg Easter Festival in 1967 – notably not with the first opera, Das Rheingold, but with Die Walküre. Opening the new festival with the Ring was a statement in several respects. On the one hand, it demonstrated that the Berliner Philharmoniker – until then exclusively at home in the concert hall – was not daunted by the most monumental work in music theatre. 

On the other, it was a declaration of independence from Karajan himself, who had fallen out with the Bayreuth Festival in 1959 and the Vienna State Opera in 1964. Two of the world’s most important opera stages were now closed to him, prompting Karajan – whose career had begun as an opera conductor – to swiftly establish his own venue, determined to attract international attention with productions that would set new standards.

Sadly, Karajan’s Salzburg Ring was not filmed for posterity. However, a film of Das Rheingold from 1978 remains, providing a glimpse of the premiere production. Karajan had originally planned to restage his Ring at the Easter Festival in the late 1970s, producing the performances simultaneously under studio conditions for the cinema. Neither the revival nor the ambitious cinema project – which would have required immense financial resources – could be realised. The sole exception is the Rheingold film, now available in the Digital Concert Hall.

Here one can admire an outstanding vocal ensemble, with Thomas Stewart as Wotan and Peter Schreier as Loge, complemented by the burnished playing of the Berliner Philharmoniker. Beyond the music – presented as a playback for the production – the most intriguing element is the visual aspect: Herbert von Karajan’s direction, with expansive, abstract, and atmospheric sets designed by Günther Schneider-Siemssen.

For decades, Karajan had been frustrated by what he viewed as unsatisfactory stagings he encountered as a conductor. His solution was to direct himself. He sought a production that was both powerful and stylised, inspired by Wieland Wagner’s pioneering work at Bayreuth. The results were mixed: fast-paced operas such as Carmen seemed less suited to Karajan’s approach than those with more static action, where he could craft scenes of impressive splendour. This is evident in his Rheingold, where the gods’ entrances radiate a dignity that remains remarkable. By contrast, Karajan’s artificial aesthetic is less suited to the more dramatic Nibelheim scene, which, from today’s perspective, seems reminiscent of 1960s science fiction television.

Nevertheless, we can be grateful that at least this part of the Karajan Ring with the Berliner Philharmoniker has survived – not least as a reminder that each era must discover its own approach to Wagner’s world theatre.