Die Walküre, Royal Opera House

Barrie Kosky’s Die Walküre, the second instalment in his ambitious new Ring cycle for the Royal Opera, continues the bold, expressionistic vision begun in Das Rheingold, but adds even greater emotional weight. Set in a bleak, burned-out world haunted by loss, ecological collapse, and the ghosts of myth, this is a production that doesn’t just rest on spectacle, though it certainly has its share, but digs deep into the psychology of its characters.

At the heart of Kosky’s staging is Erda, the ancient Earth Mother, once again portrayed by Illona Linthwaite. Silent throughout, she remains onstage in every scene, sometimes centre, sometimes haunting the edges, spinning the tale like some wounded cosmic observer. Her presence anchors the story in a deep sense of natural ruin, resonant with Kosky’s allusions to the Australian bushfires and the ongoing despoliation of the Earth.

Rufus Didwiszus’s designs are stark and powerful: charred planks, jagged tree trunks, and an ash-drenched landscape set the tone. The final magic fire scene is breathtaking, literally setting the stage ablaze, while earlier moments make a virtue of emptiness and darkness. Victoria Behr’s costumes place the gods in sharp suits, security uniforms, and grim contemporary dress, nodding to modernity without feeling forced.

Musically, the performance is superb. Antonio Pappano draws rich textures and taut drama from the Royal Opera House Orchestra. He balances clarity and propulsion, allowing space for the singers while keeping Wagner’s long arcs alive. The orchestral detail in Act I’s stormy prelude and Act II’s haunting Todesverkündigung was exceptional.

Natalya Romaniw gives a revelatory performance as Sieglinde. Her voice is luminous and full of emotional nuance, and her acting: raw, terrified, defiant, is completely absorbing. Paired with Stanislas de Barbeyrac’s poetic Siegmund, their scenes bristle with suppressed energy and finally, soaring passion. His voice carries a rare Italianate lyricism that doesn’t just cut through Wagner’s orchestration, but elevates it.

Christopher Maltman is a compelling Wotan, complex and often brutal, played more as a corporate autocrat than a lofty god. His farewell to Brünnhilde, usually the opera’s emotional climax, is here fragmented, bitter, and wrenching. Elisabet Strid’s Brünnhilde is energetic and committed, though her high notes sometimes falter. Still, her transformation from divine warrior to vulnerable daughter is deeply moving.

Marina Prudenskaya’s Fricka and Soloman Howard’s Hunding both impress with intensity and vocal heft, while the Valkyries are a fearsome ensemble, dragging ash-covered corpses like war ghosts.

Despite some pacing missteps and a few heavy-handed metaphors, this is a rich, provocative Walküre, not quite transcendent, but thrilling and unforgettable.

Image credit: Royal Opera House.