July 26 (Bloomberg) -- One boo for the first act, several for the second. Then the curtain fell on the third act and the storm broke. Katharina Wagner's new staging of her great- grandfather's ``Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg'' unfolded amid passion at the Bayreuth opera festival in Germany.

At the end, there was a generalized howl, followed by polite applause for the lesser singers. Then a handful of boos (entirely undeserved) for Amanda Mace's sweet-voiced Eva. At this point, far too early for protocol, Katharina stormed onto the stage with her team to ``support'' her hapless singer. And the booing began in earnest, drowning out a flurry of cheers.

The members of the audience, who included German Chancellor Angela Merkel, European Commission President Jose Barroso, former German President Roman Herzog, Duchess Gloria von Thurn und Taxis and talk-show host Thomas Gottschalk, looked more excited to see one another than they were to see the opera. You have to be very patient, very lucky, very famous or a journalist to make it to an opening night at Bayreuth, where the 10-year waiting list is swamped.

Later this year, the Bayreuth Festival foundation is to decide who will follow the ailing 87-year-old Wolfgang Wagner, grandson of the composer, as festival director. His youngest daughter, Katharina, 29, has thrown her hat into the ring, and this ``Meistersinger'' was widely seen as an audition for the job. No staging could ever have lived up to such expectations.

Hers certainly didn't. Bayreuth needs change, and in its convoluted way, this production was a plea for that. The problems lay less with the concept than with its execution.

Vocal Battles

``Meistersinger'' is a sprawling and wordy opera about art and tradition. Outsider Walther von Stolzing must win the singers' guild competition to gain the hand of lovely Eva. Shoemaker Hans Sachs, older and wiser, fancies Eva himself but bows to young love, teaching Stolzing the rules and respect for tradition while he helps the guild members to accept that a little modernity is not a bad thing.

This was Hitler's favorite opera, and its repeated performance in Bayreuth during World War II was a trophy event for the Nazis. Most German stage directors today feel obliged to tackle this taint and Katharina is no exception. It was her grandmother Winifred who welcomed the Fuehrer with open arms, and her father who played with ``Uncle Wolf'' as a boy.

Adolf's Return

Hitler is briefly back in Bayreuth as Katharina's confused staging reaches its apotheosis. Her Hans Sachs sets out as the bare-footed, chain-smoking rebel of the singers' guild, yet he becomes increasingly conservative as the evening proceeds. He warms his hands on the flames as conductor and stage-director doubles are burned. By the end, in time for his speech on ``holy German art,'' he is Adolf himself, flanked by statues in the style of Nazi sculptor Arno Breker.

His trajectory is mirrored by that of Stolzing, who enters wearing white sneakers and defacing museum artworks with broad splashes of messy white paint. Through Sachs he learns how to wear a suit and please the conservative public by giving them just what they want. The reward is wealth.

This incoherent production tries to do far too many things at once. There are abundant clever references to German art, culture and architecture. Statues of Goethe, Schiller, Bach, Wagner, Kleist and others come to life and dance, in grotesquely oversized masks and their underwear, for the third-act meadow festivities. A little nudity and some simulated sex are thrown in for good measure.

Katharina's calculated subversion of the plot could have been brilliant if it had been more sparingly realized. In her frenetic struggle to prove herself clever enough, presumably aided by intellectual dramaturge Robert Sollich, a few good ideas and strong images are lost in the dross.

Heroic Singers

Klaus Florian Vogt and Michael Volle, both of whom had sung heroically as Stolzing and Sixtus Beckmesser, were suitably celebrated. Franz Hawlata was Hans Sachs. His voice did not stay the course, and he was roundly booed. Sebastian Weigle, who conducted a fast-paced, light-footed show, got away with only a few boos, which he managed to face down. Katharina, wafer thin in a floor-length silver gown, kept returning for more, and the audience gave it to her.

Bayreuth cannot be saved by pretentious essays on art history. Nor are infantile gestures of rebellion the same as innovation. Katharina has skill, yet she would need a lot more experience to grow into a job of such significance. Dynastic succession and the wishes of a strong-willed old man are not reasons to give high responsibility to the underqualified.

The Bayreuth Festival runs through Aug. 28. Also on show are Tankred Dorst's uneventful ``Ring'' cycle, Philippe Arlaud's Teletubby ``Tannhaeuser'' and Christoph Schlingensief's voodoo ``Parsifal.'' The festival's sponsors include Audi AG, Axa SA, Bayerische Motoren Werke AG, Commerzbank AG, Deutsche Bank AG, UBS AG and Volkswagen AG.

(Shirley Apthorp is a critic for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are her own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Shirley Apthorp at sarabande@compuserve.com.

Last Updated: July 26, 2007 06:51 EDT