返璞歸真：瓦格納主義前的瓦格納

應(yīng)該說我也算得上有些年紀(jì)了，所以我還記得多年前指揮家羅杰·諾林頓（Roger Norrington）提出了一個在當(dāng)年算得上激進(jìn)的概念：他參考了考古研究以還原古樂器，并按時間順序演奏貝多芬的全套交響曲。在那之前，所謂“歷史真實性”僅研究到貝多芬之前——從字面上看，音樂學(xué)的時間線只延續(xù)到莫扎特——而到現(xiàn)場觀賞貝多芬交響曲音樂會的觀眾明顯分為兩派：古樂器可以讓我們重新認(rèn)識到巴洛克曲目所蘊含的神韻，但套用到古典時期最著名的交響樂曲上的話，可以達(dá)到同樣的效果嗎？大眾眾說紛紜。

我的答案是熱烈肯定——“可以”，但最終還回歸到“不可以”。從好的方面來說，我們聆聽的演出沒有添加后浪漫時期附在貝多芬頭上的那些響亮的、強調(diào)他“舉足輕重”地位的包袱。如果我們按時間順序聆聽全套交響樂的系列演出，可以察覺到作曲家日趨成熟和歷經(jīng)磨煉的過程，更容易了解貝多芬的“三個創(chuàng)作時期”——從一開始極具潛力地師從海頓（雖然有點不羈），到最終他完全失聰，可他的內(nèi)耳又明顯專注于超越他的、未來的聲音世界。

然而那時的我年少輕狂，心里不由會質(zhì)疑權(quán)威。諾林頓的演繹在我當(dāng)時還未積累豐富經(jīng)驗的耳朵聽來，好像欠缺了些什么。我聽到的不僅僅是作曲家的成長與變化，當(dāng)年的樂器也經(jīng)歷了飛速的發(fā)展。對于一個以“時代樂器運動”為名的系列音樂會來說，在演出貝多芬的《第一交響曲》和《第九交響曲》時用上同樣的樂器，顯然是一個錯誤的抉擇。

幸好，無論是演奏家還是觀眾都很快就適應(yīng)了。古典音樂主流開始變得如此善于復(fù)古演奏手法與風(fēng)格，有時候區(qū)分主流演奏會與復(fù)古演出的唯一標(biāo)準(zhǔn)是：樂手們拿著的是現(xiàn)代樂器還是古樂器。而關(guān)于“歷史真實性”這個議題，通常不以幽默著稱——尤其是在利用已經(jīng)過時的技術(shù)演繹當(dāng)代“新”音樂上，甚至帶有一層諷刺意味。約翰·凱奇（John Cage）創(chuàng)作于1954年的《虛構(gòu)的風(fēng)景第四號》（Imaginary Landscapes No. 4）中，運用了十幾臺收音機同時隨機播放不同的音樂節(jié)目；但最近它的演出卻出現(xiàn)困難，因為如今大部分的電臺直播都在做“脫口秀”而很少播放音樂，于是主辦方在演出編排方面必須重新調(diào)整。

因此，去年當(dāng)我聽說以歷史真實手法演繹巴赫而著稱的德累斯頓音樂節(jié)，聲稱要把“歷史真實性”的焦點放在另一位長居萊比錫的作曲家——理查德·瓦格納身上時，我有點吃驚。2023年，德累斯頓音樂節(jié)開啟了歷時四年的《指環(huán)》系列，揭幕演出用上了瓦格納當(dāng)年的古樂器，也考證了當(dāng)年的聲樂唱法以及咬字發(fā)音等。他們請來指揮長野?。↘ent Nagano），與布拉格國家歌劇院與科隆協(xié)奏團(tuán)合作，還為公眾設(shè)立了講座與工作坊，以便于大家更深入地認(rèn)識瓦格納的年代。

我錯過了2023年演出的《czXdLsDtr4kwiKB42d1wVEbJRhUeGWq4Ku1bznQmquU=萊茵的黃金》（Das Rheingold）與今年5月的《女武神》（Die Walküre），但德累斯頓還有兩部《指環(huán)》劇目將呈現(xiàn)在舞臺上——而且，因為有不少合作伙伴參與其中，這個制作的演出機會應(yīng)該還會持續(xù)一段時間。但我卻禁不住猜想，那些“死忠派”瓦格納粉絲與交響樂界的貝多芬迷相比，將會有何種反應(yīng)。

傳統(tǒng)與真實歷史之間的差異往往很大，尤其是當(dāng)你面對著那些歷史潮流的引領(lǐng)者。就算是具有前瞻性的藝術(shù)家，都不可能是憑空出現(xiàn)的。這些藝術(shù)家在青年時代往往受到各種因素的影響，后來它們卻被加工美化了——如果不是引領(lǐng)者本人的行為，就是后來擁護(hù)他的追隨者們?yōu)橹?/p>

我在中國最難忘的歌劇之夜是在2012年，國家大劇院搬演瓦格納《漂泊的荷蘭人》。大多數(shù)人被強卡洛·德·莫納科（Giancarlo Del Monaco）所設(shè)計的兩艘實物大小的船只在舞臺上相遇打動（差不多等同于將電影《加勒比海盜》的開頭片段延伸了30分鐘），但對我來說，最深刻的印象來自樂池。

某些所謂“資深”人士批評了呂嘉處理音樂的手法。呂大師多年來領(lǐng)導(dǎo)維羅納的歌劇演出，指揮演出的樂句起伏，會有意識地帶有意大利風(fēng)格，與德國風(fēng)格截然不同。很多人卻埋怨是呂嘉分不清德意之別。

可是，重點就在這里：事實上年輕的瓦格納鐘愛美聲唱法，尤其是貝利尼的歌劇。我們現(xiàn)在所謂的“瓦格納式”唱法其實源自他后期創(chuàng)作的歌劇——特別是《指環(huán)》系列，而這種唱法又被追溯套用到他早期的歌劇作品中。在國家大劇院版的《漂泊的荷蘭人》里——那是瓦格納畢生首次獲得成功的作品——呂嘉確實故意忽略了傳統(tǒng)，相反，他考慮到歷史。

雖然我與德累斯頓的《女武神》失之交臂，但一個月之后在香港還是過足了瓦格納癮，觀看到一場與眾不同的《漂泊的荷蘭人》的瓦格納演繹。本地人都取笑地說，即將卸任的音樂總監(jiān)梵志登在演出后的幾天內(nèi)就要坐飛機“漂泊”回國，但是這版《荷蘭人》的確為這位荷蘭指揮家在香港的12年任期畫上了圓滿的句號，也讓他為香港管弦樂團(tuán)（簡稱“港樂”）帶來榮耀的功績：為拿索斯（Naxos）灌錄的全套《指環(huán)》后，《留聲機》（Gramophone）雜志2019年將港樂評為“年度最佳管弦樂團(tuán)”。

港樂的《荷蘭人》也錄了音，同樣將由拿索斯發(fā)行。從一開始的號角到絢爛的弦樂聲部，都讓人聯(lián)想起幾年前那次歷時四年的《指環(huán)》旅程。聲量強弱的大對比沒有減少任何音樂的強度，演唱陣容也全都是富有經(jīng)驗的瓦格納歌手，他們的功底同樣扎實（甚至因為演員數(shù)量較少，發(fā)揮要比《指環(huán)》更一致穩(wěn)定）。

演出唯一令人遺憾的，就是缺乏意大利美聲風(fēng)格唱法。梵志登的《荷蘭人》沒有忠于瓦格納創(chuàng)作這部作品的年代。他的演繹更像一位成熟的作曲家回眸一望，凸顯了一些未來的種子，而忽略了音樂中所擁有的年輕情懷。因此，這部《荷蘭人》只能算是半個瓦格納的圖像?？墒?，對于指揮與樂團(tuán)而言，目光由大獲成功的《指環(huán)》回望，用同樣的方式重塑過往的音樂，可能是他們能想到的唯一的方法。

在這里我給這次瓦格納的話題加上一個尾聲：我剛于8月中旬在香港看了普契尼的首部舞臺作品《群妖圍舞》（Le Villi）。一直以來，我對《群妖圍舞》都有點偏愛，部分原因是它證明了成功人士的第一次出擊通常都不太成功?！度貉龂琛返囊魳放c舞蹈的比例看起來有一點尷尬，整個故事的架構(gòu)也略顯笨拙，樂隊配器聽起來過于沉重而令人感覺不舒服。盡管該作品有這樣那樣的缺點，你還是從中聽得出青年普契尼在探索他成長以后可以達(dá)到的高峰。

上文提到，瓦格納深受老一輩的意大利歌劇作曲家的影響，而青年普契尼則深受瓦格納的影響。有幾位同行曾經(jīng)討論過，普契尼才是實現(xiàn)了瓦格納理想中“整體藝術(shù)”的人，甚至比那位德國前輩更為成功（盡管我認(rèn)為，他們的論點是基于對令人難忘的旋律的偏好，還有，歌劇時長適中而不是演到午夜后才散場）。

這場《群妖圍舞》讓我首次認(rèn)識香港一個非營利機構(gòu)，名為“眾樂樂”（Tutti），演出集合了香港飛躍舞蹈學(xué)院與非凡美樂（另一家主要的香港歌劇制作機構(gòu)），還有香港芭蕾舞團(tuán)與深圳歌劇舞劇院的藝術(shù)家。在樂池帶領(lǐng)19人樂隊的是杜洛沙（Isaac Droscha），他在舞臺上飾演的歌劇男中音的角色，廣為人知。

我曾經(jīng)觀賞過制作更為精良的《群妖圍舞》——包括在上海歌劇院——但是，香港的這場演出的確捕捉到青年普契尼的精髓。換句話來說，制作的活力與魅力并重，超出了實際上的舞臺技術(shù)。在杜洛沙的最佳狀態(tài)下，帶領(lǐng)著樂手們與歌唱家完美契合，他們一同呼吸、一同塑造樂句——這對樂手們來說是最難以捉摸的技巧。

可惜，這場演出無法企及的，就是與瓦格納建立任何的關(guān)聯(lián)。樂池里只有19人——我猜大概是我的要求太多吧。

I’m old enough to remember when the conductor Roger Norrington came up with a then-radical notion to conduct all the Beethoven symphonies in order on period instruments. Up till then， “historical authenticity” had only gone so far—literally， up to Mozart on the musicological timeline—and audienc- es came into the Beethoven project clearly divided over whether or not the same sense of discovery that period instruments brought to the Baroque repertory would have a similar effect on the most famous symphonies in the classical cannon.

The answer was an enthusiastic yes—but ultimately， no. On the plus side， the audience got to hear the music of Beethoven without the stentorian“importance” and late-Romantic gloss added by later generations. And like nearly all symphonic cycles， listeners could discern the composer’s growing maturity， moving through his famous “three periods”from the promising （if unruly） student of Haydn to the deaf master whose inner ear was clearly focused beyond the sound world of his time.

Back then， though， I was also young enough to question authority， and even to my developing ears something crucial was missing. It wasn’t just the composer who was changing； the instruments of the time were also transforming at a rapid pace. For a gather-ing that called itself “the period-instrument movement，” using the same instruments for Beethoven’s Symphonies Nos. 1 and 9 seemed a significant error.

Fortunately， both musicians and audiences caught up quickly. The classical mainstream became so adept in adapting period performance practices that sometimes the only way to tell a standard orchestral performance from a historical recreation was the use of modern instruments. Period authenticity—not generally known for its humor—even took on a layer of irony， especially in performances of “new”music using outdated technology. （A few years ago， John Cage’s 1954 piece Imaginary Landscapes No. 4， with a dozen radios randomly juxtaposing different musical broadcasts， had to be retooled when the majority of stations only offered talk radio.）

So I was a taken aback a bit last year when I heard that the Dresden Music Festival would be taking the historic approach that worked so well with Bach and training it on another longtime Leipzig resident： Richard Wagner. In 2023， the festival opened its fouryear recreation of the Ring Cycle focusing not just on Wagner’s original instruments but also the vocal and linguistic practices of the period. Conducted by Kent Nagano， the project joined together forces from the Prague State Opera and Concerto K？ln， offering lectures and public workshops to introduce audiences to Wagner’s time.

***

I missed both Das Rheingold in 2023 and Die Walküre this year， but there are still two Ring operas—and with so many collaborators， the project should be around for some time. I did wonder， though， how the reactions of die-hard Wagnerians would compare to the Beethoven worshippers in the symphonic world.

Gaps between tradition and actual history are often quite broad， particularly when you’re dealing with history’s trendsetters. Not even visionaries emerge from a vacuum， and it’s often the influences of youth that get airbrushed from the picture—if not by the visionary in question， then by future generations of followers.

One of my most memorable operatic nights in Chi- na was the premiere of Wagner’s Flying Dutchman in 2012 at the National Centre for the Performing Arts. Most people were struck by director Giancarlo Del Monaco’s vision of two life-sized ships meeting on stage （essentially extending the opening of Pirates of the Caribbean for a good half hour）， but for me， the most memorable part of the evening came from the orchestra pit.

Quite a few “knowledgeable” people criticized LüJia’s approach. As a longtime veteran of Verona， Lü led his forces with a clear sense of Italian phrasing， quite distinct from Germanic styles. Many people grumbled that Lü couldn’t even tell the difference.

But here’s the thing： the young Wagner was very smitten by bel canto， particularly the operas of Bellini. What we call “Wagnerian” singing developed after Wagner wrote his later operas—most notably his Ring Cycle—and retroactively applied to Wagner’s earlier operas. In the NCPA’s performance of Dutchman—Wagner’s first major success—Lü was indeed ignoring tradition； instead， he was paying attention to history.

I missed Walküre in Dresden， but got a different Wagnerian fix the next month with a very different look at The Flying Dutchman in Hong Kong. Ignoring the local joke that outgoing music director Jaap van Zwenden would be on a plane back to Amsterdam a few days after the final curtain， Dutchman did crown the Dutch conductor’s 12 years at the helm by honoring his greatest achievement： a Ring Cycle， recorded for Naxos， that led Gramophone magazine to name the Hong Kong Philharmonic “Orchestra of the Year” in 2019.

The Philharmonic’s Dutchman， also recorded for Naxos， recalled the successes of the previous four-year journey， from the score’s opening horn calls to general string-section bombast. Stark dynamic contrasts lost none of the music’s intensity， and the cast of veteran Wagnerians was similarly solid （and， if anything， more consistent， since it had fewer singers）.

The evening’s one downside， however， was a notable dearth of bel canto. Van Zweden’s Dutchman， rather than being true to Wagner’s time， offered a glimpse of the mature composer looking backward， highlighting kernels of future truth while ignoring the music’s youthful present. As a portrait of Wagner， it was only half the story， but for a conductor and orchestra looking backward from the vantage of the Ring， it was probably the only way they could think to tell it.

***

To add an Italian coda to all this Wagner talk， I also saw a mid-August performance in Hong Kong of Le villi， Puccini’s first stage effort. I’ve always been partial to Le villi， partly because， like most first attempts by successful people， it proves they weren’t always successful. In Le villi， music and dance struggle awkwardly for supremacy， the structure is a bit clumsy and the orchestrations too heavy for comfort， but through the flaws you can still hear the young Puccini actually figuring out what he wants to do when he grows up.

Much as Wagner was heavily influenced by earlier Italians， the young Puccini was heavily influenced by， well， Wagner. Several of my colleagues have argued that Puccini actually fulfilled Wagner’s ideal of Gesamtkunstwerk （or “complete work of art”） better than Wagner did （though I think their reasoning is often guided by a yearn for memorable melodies and a desire for operas to end on the same calendar day they begin）.

Le villi was my introduction to Tutti， an organization joining forces with Hong Kong’s Supreme Dance Academy and Musica Viva （another local opera presenter）， as well as tapping artists from the Hong Kong Ballet and the Shenzhen Opera and Dance Theatre. A 19-piece pit ensemble was led Isaac Droscha， better known for appearing on stage in operatic baritone roles.

I’ve seen more polished productions of Le villi—including one at the Shanghai Opera House in 2009—but this one did actually capture the essence of a young Puccini， which is to say it offered more energy and charm than actual stagecraft. At his best， Droscha imparted to his musicians the one thing that usually proves most elusive to instrumentalists： the ability to breathe and phrase with the singers.

What the performance did not have， alas， was much connection to Wagner. With only 19 players in the pit， that was probably too much to ask.