Met Opera Live in HD: Die Walkure. Warning! 100% Terfel adoration lies ahead.

Anyone who follows my Twitter account or has read any part of this blog will know that my love for Bryn Terfel is nothing if not dangerously obsessive. He can do no wrong in my eyes. It's got to the point where I go weak at the knees before he even opens his mouth, and to be honest, despite how critical I find myself being of some singers, I'd happily bankrupt myself just to hear him hum the theme tune to Postman Pat. Or not hum the theme tune to Postman Pat. If he wants to just stand there, then that's fine.

If you've got this far without feeling nauseous, you will appreciate how excited I have been about the Met Opera broadcast of Die Walkure, the second opera in Wagner's Ring Cycle. I've been looking forward to it for so long that Saturday actually felt a bit surreal. Especially as the performace was far more exciting and moving than I had dared to hope it would be.

Most of the post Die Walkure chat has seemed to focus on Jonas Kaufmann, who for many Wagner fans has clearly stolen the show. For me, he was a magnificent Siegmund- his voice is undoubtedly extremely special, he's a fantastic actor and, let's face it, he's pretty attractive. But despite how easy he made his difficult task appear, and despite how amazing he was to watch, I'm going to leave it there because I could easily write a book about each aspect of this amazing production (the rest of the cast, the set, the costumes, the direction) but what I really want to talk about is Bryn. 

The short version of this is simply that he rocked my world. But given that this is my blog and I reserve the right to be indulgent, I'm going to provide you with the long one. Why is Bryn's Wotan so successful in my objective opinion? Well, aside from being vocally marvellous, it's psychologically multi faceted. He has no problem breathing life into Lepage's direction, and every movement he makes is an insight into the character.

He portrays the dark and brooding aspects of the role easily, his facial expressions letting us know from the outset that the unresolved issues from Das Rheingold weigh heavily on his mind. But he goes further than this, and instead of just presenting us with a miserable god who suspects the future of Valhalla is dommed, he explores the more human attributes of Wotan. How is he as a father and a husband, and how can he reconcile his emotional life with his responsibilities as a leader?

The rehearsal clip above shows a snippet of the chemistry he created with Deborah Voigt's Brunnhilde. Yes, it's vocally magnificent, but how amazing to combine that with such energetic acting. Let's remember that at this point, there's a lot going on in his head, and he's sending her off to intervene in a battle that could shape the entire future of Valhalla, but he can't resist some (slightly flirty) bonding time with his favourite Valkyrie daughter.

Could he look more overjoyed to see her? Taking her under his (rather powerful) arm he delivers his orders with a mighty grin, and even a bit of a nuzzle. He's so into her that she's permitted to touch his magic spear, and he even gives her a cheeky bat on the arse with it. Ahem. Thanks to the lively, intelligent portrayal, you don't need to read a plot synopsis to realise what these two share- if Wotan's going to pour his heart out to anyone, it will be her.

With Stephanie Blythe's Fricka (above), the mood was very different to the one created with Rosalind Plowright at the Royal Opera House in 2005. Here, Bryn toned it down a bit, and we got some beautiful soft singing and a physical interpretation to match. Although clearly troubled by the direction their conversation was taking, his facial expressions indicated sympathy for her position and some remorse for his previous infidelities.

But when the horrifying demand (that he protect Hunding's marrital rights and leave Siegmund unprotected in battle) emerged from her lips, his stance changed, and although he moved to kiss her hand as confirmation of his promise, his skin was clearly crawling and he flinched from her touch. It was extremely powerful, and you knew in a split second that she would get her way, but lose the love of her husband.

In carrying out Fricka's wish, Bryn created one of the most moving and memorable moments of the opera. As Kaufmann's Siegmund lay dead in his arms, he looked truly devastated at the sacrifice of his son, and chose to forfeit vocal perfection in order to communicate his mental state. His 'Geh! Geh!' to Hunding was a definite growl, far from musical, but emotionally on the money. Was there a bit of method acting going on here? As he clasped Kaufmann and his rage poured forth, I wondered if he deserved an acting gong to go with his stack of musical tributes.

The final act of Die Walkure is undoubtedly my favourite. Once Brunnhilde's Valkyrie sisters have fled the scene, it's an emotional tug of war between her and Wotan, and Voigt and Terfel didn't disappoint. Debs didn't get the full on snog that Lisa Gasteen did at ROH, but it was hugely tender and there were moments when a fleeting look in Bryn's eyes made me think (rather irrationally) that he was about to shout 'It's OK- I won't leave you on a rock surrounded by fire after all. You can come back to Valhalla with me!' Of course he didn't- he condemned her to her fiery punishment with heartbreaking resolve and slightly moist eyes. Hooking his spear under her arm, he pulled her close and it seemed to me that both his emotional interpretation and vocal powers were at their peak.

With Terfel, I'm a bit like a football fan willing his favourite player towards the goal, and I think I listened to the entire sixteen minutes of Wotan's farewell with clenched fists. I needn't have got so stressed- it was absolutely glorious. I don't think I've ever heard anything more beautiful or chocolatey than his 'wenn Hoffnungssehnen das Herz mir sengte, nach Weltenwonne mein Wunsch verlangte' ('when hopeless yearning consumed my spirit and worldly pleasures were all I longed for') and his 'Loge, hor!' was mighty indeed.

I sobbed so much that I spent the curtain call searching for my contact lens between wild clapping. I woke up with a full on Wagner hangover on Sunday morning, emotionally shattered and a little bereft. How on earth will I get through the six months until the Siegfried broadcast? Sigh. Big, big sigh.