My love for Kit Kats has been the thing of rumor and conjecture ever since the infamous break room theft of 2002 when my Kit Kat mysteriously disappeared. Gimmee a break. The villainous degenerate has never been found, and everyone knows I’d rather lose a river full of gold than a Kit Kat. They are in my opinion, the perfect ratio of wafer to chocolate.
On the way to the Met today I overhear a woman shout loudly and defensively the two sweetest words in the universe, ‘Kit Kat.’ She sounds like a madman on trial. “I don’t have an addiction. Listen. I am not addicted, I might have an addictive personality, but I’m not addicted to Kit Kats!” Maybe realizing how loudly she was broadcasting she softened her tone and continued. “But, don’t get me wrong, I really like Kit Kats, but I mean it’s not like I don’t eat other candy sometimes.” She reflects quietly for a second and relinquishes, “but I do always come back to the Kit Kat.” Her friend gives a victorious laugh, “because you’re addicted to them!”
I smile to myself, for the first time believing in soulmates.
This production of Das Rheingold uses a polarizing set-design that includes a giant mechanical aperatus of tall moveable planks that reconfigure throughout the production serving as everything from caves and riverbanks to trees and horses.
I have nicknamed the apparatus – the Kit-Kat.
The women move ahead and me and Chaltin turn toward the Met holding hands and wearing our horned hats.
This prelude to The Ring Cycle is two and half hours straight thru.
The music begins almost imperceptibly, but then very slowly rises and rises like a primeval force, a grasping shadow in the river depths bringing my attention gradually with it both into the light and into the narrative.
The rest of the performance is a fucking heavy metal concert.
We are blown away by the bigness of this introduction and excited for the story to continue.
We find a cafe’ afterward and eat, not Kit Kats unfortunately, but a delicious rustic toast topped with goat cheese, prosciutto, pear, dates, and honey. I order a cappuccino while we wear our horned hats and talk about how unfair Wotan was to the giants and how everything is his fault…
The orchestra and singers blew us away.
When Wotan and Loge descend into the Nibelung and the magic of theatre looked like we were above them looking straight down was magic.
The projection and actors interactions with them worked seamlessly.
So what is Das Rheingold all about? It begins with the rhinemaidens who guard magical gold under the water. They begin teasing the ugly Alberich who has wandered by and they warn him if he steals the gold he will have to forsake love, he’s not getting any love anyway so he steals the gold and forges it into a ring of power. The god Wotan wants the ring and finds alberich who is wearing the tarnhelm, a magical Helmut that can turn him into anything, Wotan tricks him into turning himself into something small and trapping him in a box and taking the ring, which in turn Alberich curses.
The giants meanwhile who Wotan has not paid for the building of Valhala have kidnapped Freia and the gods need her back because she grows the fruit of immortality. He gives them the gold he has stolen and reluctantly also gives them the ring because the earth goddess warns Wotan that the ring will bring doom if he keeps it. The ring takes its first victim when the giant Fafner kills his brother over the treasure. The Gods move to Valhalla.
Notes on the production
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Composer……………………….. Richard Wagner
Albrich…………………………… Tomasz Konieczny
Wotan……………………………. Greer Grimsley
Fricka……………………………. Jamie Barton
Freia……………………………… Wendy Bryn Harmer
Fafner……………………………. Dmitry Beloselskiy
Froh……………………………… Adam Diegel
Donner………………………….. Michael Ernst
Mime……………………………. Gerhard Siegel
Erda……………………………… Karen Cargill
Woglinde………………………… Amanda Woodbury
Wellgunde……………………….. Samantha Hankey
Flosshilde……………………….. Tamara Mumford
Conductor………………………. Philippe Jordan
Metropolitan Opera
3/9/19