Off the bus
I suppose that the recent exchange here and elsewhere would paint me as a rabid postmodernist; however, I have my limits and I have to recognize excellence where it exists.
Here is a post from Sounds and Fury which proves that there are limits to postmodernism. To this, I can say only WTF? Seriously, WTF? Was the stage director high? Drunk? This makes absolutely no sense. None. It, in fact, makes so little sense that it takes sense away from other things that make sense. 2+2 might equal 5 after you explain this scene. No sane reading of the score can make this staging make anything resembling dramatic sense. This is not only "vandalism," but it makes the work of sensible postmodern directors that much harder. Pardon the pun.
Here is ACD's full post:
The focus of the Teatro Nacional de São Carlos's new production of Wagner's Das Rheingold may be Alberich's three-foot-long dong, but the real putz in this production is Eurotrash vandal Graham Vick whose handiwork it is.
Alberich is exceptionally well-endowed. Rejected by the Rhinemaidens, he rocks on his haunches, cradling his metre-long member. For a moment, when he swipes the disco-ball Rhinegold from these blue-frocked party-girls, self-castration looks likely. But no. He keeps the appendage, and it reappears in Nibelheim, thick as a man and as wide as the stage.