Die Frau Ohne Schatten at the Metropolitan Opera
Lindstrom has a tremendous stage presence, doing a lot with little. She’s stoic on stage, but there’s fire in her eyes. With a subtle turn of the head, she can express all the contempt for her husband without having to do much more. She took up tremendous space in every scene she appeared in. She was particularly formidable in her Act two denunciation where she proclaims her desire to be free, taking centerstage with an erect and firm poise. But at the start of Act three, she was hunched over, expressing a lack of composure for the first time. After standing up with sturdiness throughout the first two acts, she spends a lot of Act three seated or on the ground.
This physical presence was matched by her vocal temperament. More than any other singer, her sound blasted into the space with abandon throughout the first two acts, emphasizing her fighting spirit. This was particularly present throughout “Es gibt derer” in Act two, the soprano’s aggressive approach coming to full fruition. It was undoubtedly her standout moment dramatically. But in Act three, faced with losing her husband, Lindstrom found gentler colors in her voice.
Lindstrom was indefatigable, grabbing at every bit of tenderness where she could and relying on her immense reserves of power elsewhere.
The quality of her sound was a fine bridge between Empress and Nurse, with a substantial upper range and more shaded color, and she had the projection to carry through the dense orchestration her music—her character goes through the most turmoil.