If you're the kind of Wagnerite who believes that Wagner's "Ring" is an untouchable example of Gesamtkunstwerk, a transcendental Obra Maestra inspired by the heavens and secure on its pedestal, then "Das Barbecü" is NOT for you.

If, however, you like your serious opera with a dash of irreverence and a country-western twist, then you'll take a cotton to this bizarre little musical.

"Das Barbecü" is a two-hour retelling of Wagner's "Ring" cycle, specifically the fourth opera, Götterdammerüng. It sets the action smack dab in the middle of Texas, complete with a "singin' cowboy" named Seigfried, a honky tonk bar called Hagen's Hideaway and a gaudy Verailles-style palace named Valhalla Ranch.

The audience was warned Monday night-when the Musical Theatre Guild's Broadway in Concert Series presented "Das Barbecü" at Alex Theater in Burbank-that the show would be a "participation musical." Indeed, the audience members decked out in cowboy boots and ten gallon hats were quick to sing along. While my training as a courteous classical music attendee kept me silent, I couldn't help but let out some loud Texan guffaws, especially during the number "Hog-Tie Your Man" in which the Norn Triplets (one of them played by Siegfried in drag) explained how to maintain a loving relationship.

The updated plot-with its infidelities, seedy bars and scores of illegitimate children-seems more like a Texan "Desperate Housewives" than Wagner's take on Norse mythology and the rockin' soundtrack rings closer to "Annie Get Your Gun" than Carlisle Floyd's "Susannah." Still, there are a few straight-faced country ballads and romantic scenes to elevate the silliness.

The musical requires five extremely energetic actors to portray 30 characters. You heard me-30 characters, with lightning fast costume changes, increasingly broad Texas accents and one very silly bridal outfit. Wotan (Gordon Goodman) is a wealthy rancher with an eye patch and overalls. Fricka (Pamela Hamill) is a nagging southern housewife. "Oh dear, has the plot thickened?" she teases Wotan unsympathetically as his plans go awry. Gutrune (Melissa Fahn) and Brunhilde (Shauna Markey) are Southern belles with an appetite for love, Siegfried (Stuart Ambrose) and pulled pork.

Seattle Opera's General Director Speight Jenkins commissioned "Das Barbecü" in 1991 to counteract the heaviness of the "Ring." He reportedly asked librettist Jim Luigs and composer Scott Warrender not to mock the conventions of opera. But to me, the musical does nothing but play with the stereotypes of a Wagner's works.

For example, the constant costume changes require a great deal of energy and athleticism. The running around contrasts with the Wagnerian stereotype of the portly soprano who plants her feet on stage and belts out her arias.

In addition, the five actors playing 30 roles draws attention the incest in Wagner's "Ring." The taboo pairing (Brunnhilde and Siegfried are aunt and nephew) seems strange to modern-day audiences. But in "Das Barbecü," when the same actor plays Wotan and Gunther, the usual ickiness of the incest grows. Is Brunhilde engaged to her father and her nephew? Yeek!

So, don't go to "Das Barbecü" expecting a life-altering musical experience. Or if you find Wagner's work untouchable. Or if you hate country-western musicals. "Das Barbecü" is just a fun, tongue-in-cheek look at one of the most famous opera events in classical music history. Nothing more and nothing less. And I would definitely brush up on the "Ring" plot before you go. That way, you'll get the inside jokes.

The show is scheduled to travel all over Southern California until August.

Posted by Susannah Snider

And it was completely worth it.

In fact, I would have surrendered a year of sunbathing to see the panel of experts--opera director Peter Sellars, visual artist Bill Viola and director of the USC Brain and Creativity Institute Antonio Damasio--discuss myth as it relates to Wagner's Ring" cycle.

The three men graced REDCAT Theater's stage for an afternoon of what Damasio called "monologues, dialogues and tri-alogues."

The discussion began with Damasio's scientific explanations of myth-making as a purely human activity, something that even chimpanzees, our closest cousins, don't do. Myth is so crucial to us, he explained, that it may even predate spoken language.

The panelists had a magnetic chemistry. Viola and Sellars listened raptly to Damasio's lecture, soaking in the scientist's take on storytelling. The two artists connected as well, revealing that they share books and philosophies.

Viola described myth as a structural part of our culture, comparing it to the lines on the informational paperwork you fill out at the DMV--it organizes and categorizes our essential information. He argued that myth has taken on a disparaging meaning, standing for "untruth," when it actually has an essential place in the architecture of our society.

Sellars--who was characteristically decked out in a loud shirt, his hair spiked up six inches above his head--described myths as horrifying tales, devices to help humans prepare for the worst. The "Ring" creates a world where love is impossible, he explained, inaction (via suicide) is the only form of redemption and every effort the characters make yields horrid results. "If you thought you were f**cked up, then these myths are really f**cked up," he said to the audience while Viola exclaimed, "Don't scare them!"

As the lectures wound down, Viola screened his installation piece, "Three Women," a supremely affecting work in which three female figures emerge from a grainy black and white film into vivid color, then disappear again.

Possibly the best part of the afternoon was Sellars' decision to bring the "Ring" myth up to speed with the current economic situation. He spoke on how Capitalism had failed us, arguing that the youngest generation (my generation...yeek) will fare worse than our parents'. Sellars sees the "Ring" as an economic treatise that "[speaks] to the last 18 months of American life."

"All those Goldman Sachs palaces will have to end in the giant blaze of Valhalla," he said.

Two hours later, the crowd emerged from the dark theater (pitch-black because the lights had gone out during the last few minutes of discussion) into the LA sunshine. There was a good hour of beach weather left in the afternoon and a lot to think about.