In the Dressing Room During the Performance
It’s a sunny day in August 2012 when Tristan und Isolde travels through the 20th century: In Christoph Marthaler’s Bayreuth production, soloists and audience are taken on a tour through several decades. The events of the three acts span three very different eras, which can be seen especially in Anna Viebrock’s costumes and the accompanying makeup. This poses a particular challenge for the soloists and the makeup and wardrobe staff: For each act, every role must be externally redesigned, including Isolde’s loyal servant Brangäne, sung by Michelle Breedt.
Off to 1930s Cornwall
At 3 PM, one hour before the performance begins, Michelle Breedt’s makeup time starts. Of the summer atmosphere outside, only the temperature remains in the ladies’ solo dressing room in the Festspielhaus: Outside it’s 25°C, on stage it will be a few degrees more. Michelle Breedt transforms into a 1930s-style Brangäne, a bespectacled companion/chaperone type for a society lady in tweed and knitwear. The first act is set in this decade. “Wigs and costumes for this production are not necessarily singer-friendly – especially in this weather,” says Michelle Breedt. “But of course, it helps to get into the role as the director sees it.” First, her hair is “curled” so that the wigs will sit well later. While makeup artist Heike Ungerer works on her hair and makeup, the mezzo-soprano studies the piano reduction. “The transformation is not only external but also internal. Before every performance, I meticulously recall the text and dynamics, even if I have sung a part a hundred times. This is very important and doesn’t just happen on stage, from 0 to 100. Spontaneity and inspiration are important, but art also requires skill – and you have to work on that.”
For the makeup, Heike primarily handles the foundation and eye makeup. And putting the brunette, somewhat shaggy, curly wig on the curled blonde strands. The singer takes care of some things herself: she likes to apply lipstick and mascara herself: “Sometimes that’s like a meditation that prepares you for the role.” Over time, she has learned a lot. She takes many tips with her for everyday life: “Not everywhere has makeup artists, especially at concerts. So it’s helpful to watch carefully here and try things out yourself.” However, she left the foundation of her eyelashes to Heike. “Since I wear glasses in the first act, I can’t wear artificial eyelashes like in the second act. Therefore, extra thorough work is needed here to ensure the eyes are well-defined.” This is important for the long-distance effect on stage. In between, she keeps singing herself in, while from next door, Iréne Theorin’s Isolde soprano occasionally sounds.
Only when the makeup is finished does the singer put on the costume herself. The stage manager’s call can already be heard from the loudspeaker: “Ms. Breedt, Ms. Theorin, please come to the stage.” Brangäne appears in the dressing room corridor in an ankle-length tweed wrap skirt, high-necked blouse, and burgundy cardigan.
Finally, only the glasses are missing – and the 1930s old maid outfit is complete. The glasses are an important prop, as they are not just part of the makeup: “I make an incredible number of gestures with them, all of which tell a story. In the first act, they help me a lot to find my way into my role.” Together with Isolde, she makes her way to the stage after a final check. “We’re going to Cornwall!” she says goodbye to the two makeup artists and the two wardrobe assistants who are looking after the ladies’ solo.
Into the Swinging Sixties
5:50 PM, a sweaty Act 1 in tweed and knitwear later. About half an hour before the start of Act 2, Michelle Breedt is back in front of the mirror in her dressing room. She had a little time to rest. Now she has to transform for the next act. “At first glance, the break seems long, but given the makeup time, there isn’t much time for relaxing and recharging.” Act II is in the style of the 1960s: Accordingly, Heike changes the eye makeup. Thick eyeliner creates the iconic cat eyes of the era. Artificial eyelashes, which she attaches with a special latex adhesive, complete the stylized Sixties look. The crowning glory is the wig in the same brunette tone as in Act 1: Artfully backcombed with a pronounced outward wave, it looks like something out of a Sixties hairspray advertisement.
“In the first act, my costume is very prim and not very charming. Brangäne is an old-fashioned spinster here. That changes with the costume in the second act. She is more of a lady then,” says Michelle Breedt about the two costumes in comparison. She now sings in a bright green blouse and a brown, knee-length pleated skirt, with pumps. After changing, one last check in the hallway of the ladies’ solo dressing room. The bow of the blouse still needs to be tied and, after Michelle Breedt has slipped from her bathrobe into the costume, Heike has to check again whether the hairstyle is still sitting correctly.
Incidentally, Brangäne’s only costume change during an act is in the second act – and it concerns the footwear: Her “Brangäne calls” sound from the orchestra pit. To avoid making unwanted noise there, she exchanges her pumps for flat slippers with rubber soles.
Towards the Present
At 9:45 PM, the third Brangäne wig awaits Michelle Breedt in the dressing room. The brown hair is now styled as an almost shoulder-length bob with bangs. The hair looks slightly stringy. “That’s explained by the situation,” says Michelle Breedt. “Brangäne is supposed to look like she just came in from the rain for her last appearance. I’ll also be sprayed with water for that later.” She also applies a new lipstick, which adds a small splash of color to the otherwise rather monotonous outfit. It’s the third color this evening.
The 3rd act is set around 1980. Brangäne now resembles a nanny: an uncomplicated haircut, practical footwear, and a rain cape with a continuous button placket over her knee-length skirt. “The cape has no holes for the arms,” the singer wonders. It wasn’t tailored as a costume, but rather bought as a vintage piece. “Saint Laurent, Rive Gauche, Paris” is written on the label. “You feel a bit like you’re in a straitjacket,” she laughs. “Before I can step in front of the curtain with my colleagues, I first have to be unbuttoned again.” Sprinkled with water droplets, she disappears to perform her final appearance at the end of the 3rd act – the last stop on her time travel.