Yuval had chosen the musical scenes from Götterdämmerung principally for their psychological strength in moving the condensed (and slightly contemporized) narrative. These were:
- Act I scene 2: Waltraute’s description to Brünnhilde of the defeated state to which their father, Wotan, lord of the gods, has been reduced.
- Act II scene 1: the eerie nocturnal colloquy between the dwarf Alberich and his half human son Hagen, responding in a granite, somnolent monotone to his father’s frenzied exhortations that they must regain the all powerful ring at any cost and wreak vengeance on their foes.
- Act III scene 1: the Rheinmaidens’ colloquy with Siegfried, warning him of the curse imbued in the ring he possesses and urging him to save his own life by returning it to them and the Rhine river which will cleanse it, a plea Siegfried blithely disdains.
- Act III scene 2: Siegfried’s death hymn to Brünnhilde.
- Act III scene 2: an abridged version of the Immolation Scene.
These music scenes were to be interspersed with live narration, and the transition from one level of the garage to another accompanied by soundscapes created from relevant sections of the score by Los Angeles-based composer Lewis Pesacov. Ultimately these live narrations proved too time consuming and were incorporated as part of the inter-scene audio feed.
As the arranger and orchestrator, the project presented me with a few challenges from the outset:
The biggest was ascertaining how many instrumentalists would be at my disposal, what instruments they would play, and how many to allocate to each scene. Commencement of my work was delayed over the summer as discussions went back and forth between the opera and the local musician’s union about possibly prerecording the tracks for the singers to perform with live, which would have put a total of 22 at my disposal for all four scenes. Word was that the orchestra was leery of performing live, given the continuing uncertainty about pandemic protocols, not to mention the prospect of playing almost continuously some fairly demanding music 12 times consecutively in a largely outdoor space in a potentially chilly Midwestern autumn.
Ultimately agreement was reached for live instrumentalists to interact with the singers, which turned out to be the happier solution. This left us back at a total complement of 18, which had to be divided in various strengths across the five scenes.
In addition, MOT wanted to highlight their strongest players, a list that changed with almost every conversation, as some of the orchestra had decamped for other career opportunities in states with reduced covid inhibitions.
The original idea was for standard orchestral instruments, with special requests for English horn and tuba. But as Yuval expounded on his vision of an updated, timeless production concept, and explained that the poetic narration provided by Marsha Music would be in contemporary vernacular, it occurred to me that the unusual allure would be enhanced if I used instruments outside of the traditional 19th century sphere.
Yuval and I began by agreeing on an increasing number of players per scene: one for the Waltraute scene, three for the Alberich and Hagen scene, and eight for the Immolation Scene. This left five, which would be challenging to allocate to the two remaining scenes. It then occurred to us to piggyback those scenes, since in the original opera they occur in fairly quick succession (well, quick for Wagner). This would also allow us some breathing space across the performance span.
Ultimately my instrumental decisions were a mixture of bravado and practicality. A solo cello accompaniment for Waltraute was almost intuitive given the personal, haunting tone of the scene: I scored it with Britten’s canticles in mind. The aquatic timbre of vibraphone and marimba for the Rheinmaidens was perhaps my earliest idea, and would dovetail nicely with Siegfried’s death. The harp’s prominent role in the original score in the latter scene was an easy addition. A violin was included for melodic grace, and a horn moved from the Immolation allotment to this scene for richness.
For the final scene, a fairly standard but rich complement was agreed of flute, clarinet, trumpet, trombone, violin, viola, cello and bass, beefed up with an electronic keyboard.
With fifteen instruments therefore allocated, I had three instruments left to choose for the Alberich and Hagen scene, complicated by its being arguably the most rhythmically complex scene in Wagner’s output. To depict Alberich’s manic, desperate state, Wagner writes him a frenzied vocal line with almost no anchoring to a downbeat, other than harmonic shifts. These harmonies weave in and out of the foundations of some of the cycle’s most tonally elusive motifs, limned by ghostly motival figurations in the winds. Most challengingly there’s no discernible – and more importantly vocally reliable – beat. This is difficult enough when you have a 106-piece orchestra providing foundation and a conductor visibly signaling the beat. Designing this scene as a free form chamber piece with the five performers interacting sympathetically was going to require some reinforcement. I wound up creating a previously non-existent bass line so the singers – particularly Alberich – would have some sense of location.
The choice of electric bass was to some extent inspired by the casting as Hagen of the incomparable Morris Robinson, a bass voice that I wanted to give full room to shine with just the barest accompaniment. This meant eliminating Wagner’s omnipresent churning harmonic background in his passages, but that could be retained for Alberich and provide a vivid sonic contrast between the two characters.
So I needed a portable polyphonic instrument for Alberich’s sections: a keyboard of some sort. Which couldn’t be an actual keyboard as one was already designated for the Immolation scene and we wanted to avoid duplication. I think I proposed an accordion half facetiously… a distilled beverage may possibly have been involved. In hindsight it proved a weirdly effective choice. The bass clarinet was a holdover from Yuval’s interest in having this scene feature low instruments, and it didn’t hurt that the player was one of the orchestra’s top. (Alex Ross’ description of this scene as “superbly clammy” in The New Yorker may well stand as the highlight of my career.)
It only remained to make all these ideas work on paper.
I’ve been remiss in keeping up to date with news, but happily that’s because there’s been so much developing. Between travel, the day job which is always crazy during the first quarter of the year, and music projects, things at Nibbleheim haven’t been dull.
I was lucky enough to attend the 
For me, the trip would have been worth it just for three straight days with 
Then it was off to Edmonton, Canada for a little gig for their wonderful opera company, and to Los Angeles to supervise a conference for my day job (the header photo of this post was taken on the travel day between both locations). A late winter week in warm, mellow Venice Beach is not a bad thing: 
Speaking of Edmonton Opera: my biggest news (at least that’s confirmed and I can publicize) is that I’ve signed on to do vocal arrangements and orchestrations for a new “hybrid” version of Gilbert & Sullivan’s H.M.S. Pinafore for their upcoming season. This has been a fascinating and terrific experience, working with a superb creative team. Faced with a few limitations, we’ve wound up coming up with something unique and great fun, which only goes to show you what you can create out of limitations. You can read more about it 
Coming up: New Music Gathering in Bowling Green, OH in early May. I’m really looking forward to attending this for the first time and meeting artists I’ve gotten to know through @musochat, as well as others. If you’re also attending, please introduce yourself! Then it’s home to roll up my sleeves and hibernate on the Pinafore project for the summer, with a little attention to some of my own personal work in between.
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