Lohengrin

Richard Wagner called Lohengrin (1850) a “Romantic Opera in Three Acts”, and it’s exactly that—a stirring and dramatic tale of chivalry, courtly love and black magic set amid the pageantry of medieval Flanders. Lady Elsa of Brabant is as pure and virtuous as her rivals Ortrud and Telramund are cruel. Falsely accused of murder, she prays for a champion to defend her honour, and miraculously a knight in gleaming armour glides into view, in a boat drawn by a swan. Good triumphs, love blossoms, but—as in every good fairy tale—there’s a catch: Elsa must never ask her hero’s name. Wagner tells the story in brilliant colour, revelling in the fanfares and ceremonial of King Heinrich’s court (there’s a good reason why the exuberant Prelude to Act Three has become a concert hall favourite), choreographing grand choral scenes (including opera’s most famous “Bridal Chorus”) and giving soaring, radiant arias to Elsa and her knight, while painting Ortud and Telramund in music of dark, compelling power. Some see Lohengrin as a halfway house between Wagner’s early successes and the mythic world of the Ring cycle, but its ravishing Prelude casts a spell that hovers, like a benediction, over the whole opera. Something bigger is in play here: as Wagner gives vivid dramatic form to timeless questions of faith, redemption and the power (and price) of love.