A spectacular staging of The Flying Dutchman

All will offer something opulent, but each will struggle to match a spectacular new production of Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman, staged in the strangest of venues: a massive working quarry.

An hour south-east of Vienna, St Margarethen claims to host Europe’s largest natural stage, made from prehistoric limestone peppered with fossilised sea urchins, mussels and corals. The stone was hauled to Vienna in the 14th century to build St Stephen’s Cathedral and is still in demand, but for now the machinery makes way for music. This huge performance space – only one corner of the quarry – seats 4,700 and is a Unesco world heritage site. The term rock opera could have been coined for it.

Giant waves, frozen as they break, frame the vast stage, with the quarry’s towering sides offering convincing cliffs for the Norwegian fishing village in which Wagner sets his story. Neat homes, a church and a beaming lighthouse are perched high up, while centre-stage, impressively stacked one on top of the other, are the house and spinning mill where heroine Senta lives and works, everything linked by steep ladders and dizzying walkways.

Senta is obsessed with the mythic tale of the ghostly Dutchman, cursed to sail the world for ever unless he can find redemption through the love of a faithful woman. She is convinced she is that person and rejects the advances of her hopeless suitor, Erik.

In a truly dramatic entrance, the Dutchman appears on the prow of his huge, bedraggled, square-rigged ghost ship as it rises out of the waves, covered in seaweed, its tattered red sails flying in the wind. (It weighs four tonnes, I’m told.) The strange visitor offers Senta’s father, Daland, countless riches in return for safe lodging, which he eagerly accepts, and introduces him to his daughter. A hasty marriage is arranged, but the Dutchman overhears Erik pleading with Senta and, believing he is betrayed, returns to his relentless voyaging.

Their desire for spectacle is admirable, but director Philipp M Krenn and designer Momme Hinrichs give themselves a few problems, not least covering the main stage with a raging sea, which forces much of the human interaction into the narrow confines of the house and workshop. This, in turn, compels the emotional core of the piece to be played out in illuminating but ultimately alienating live video projection. And health and safety measures make Senta’s demise slightly less than sensational.

All hail, though, to conductor Patrick Lange, who – hidden, like the orchestra – successfully steers the spirited chorus and principals through the choppy waters of the score. In the first of three casts, creamy soprano Elisabeth Teige triumphs as Senta, granite-like baritone George Gagnidze is a fine Dutchman, while bass Liang Li as Daland and tenor AJ Glueckert as Erik both impress. All cope well with subtle sound enhancement, which tracks each performer with GPS – sailing Wagner straight into the 21st century.

The Flying Dutchman runs at St Margarethen, Austria until 23 August

Photograph by Oper im Steinbruch/Fotoprobe