The late conductor Herbert von Karajan established the Salzburg Easter Festival in 1967, in part to give his Berlin Philharmonic a chance to shine in this lovely little town. (The Vienna Philharmonic owns the summer.) Now presiding is Sir Simon Rattle, the Berliners’ maestro since 2002. He began this year’s festival on Saturday night, with the first part of Wagner’s “Ring”: “Das Rheingold.”

Sir Simon and the Berlin Philharmonic will be performing “The Ring” — one part per festival — through 2010. And the production is by Stéphane Braunschweig, who is artistic director of the National Theater of Strasbourg. This is a co-production with the festival at Aix-en-Provence.

What has Mr. Braunschweig done with “Das Rheingold”? The stage is largely blank, and has a big wall at the back. That wall is relieved by a single small window, up high. Plenty of poor productions cost a fortune; this production looks like it cost $58.

When the opera begins, the Rhine Maidens are frolicking, and Wotan is asleep on a series of chairs. Alberich wears a tie and a trench coat (or so it appeared to me). Later, he will be dressed up in the uniform of a military dictator. As for Fricka, she appears in a black pantsuit, the type worn by millions of professional gals in New York. Fasolt and Fafner, the giants, do not look like workmen but Wall Streeters, in their sharp suits. Loge, the god of fire, wears a shimmering sequined dress. (Are we supposed to think that the fire god is flaming?)

Throughout the opera, Mr. Braunschweig uses video images, showing, for example, the dragon into which Alberich transforms himself. At another point, Freia is running about, whether in enjoyment or fear is unclear.

And speaking of Freia: You may recall that, in Scene 4, she has gold stacked in front of her. But this is not Mr. Braunschweig’s way: He has her lie down, to be covered in wads of cash. After the performance, a wag said that Wotan should pay the giants with a credit card — a gold card, to be sure.

Incidentally, Mr. Braunschweig gives us no rainbow bridge at the end (even though Wagner does). As an old friend of mine from Georgia would say, “That would be too much like right.”

“Das Rheingold” is a rich, beautiful, mysterious, and fantastic opera; it needs a production that at least approximates those qualities. Mr. Braunschweig is no doubt a very smart fellow, but what he has done here does not match the opera. To me, the production is not so much bad as absurd. Others, of course, will disagree, and have. And if you like this sort of thing, and live in New York, you’re in luck: Productions such as Mr. Braunschweig’s are coming soon to an opera house near you.

The star of this show was the Berlin Philharmonic, which played miraculously. They were miraculous both as individuals and as an orchestra. If you’re tempted to think that these guys are overrated, perhaps because you haven’t heard them in a while, let me reassure you: They’re not.

Their playing mirrored the events of the opera, and, indeed, told the story of the opera. For example, the low brass as the giants approached were terrifying. (The giants in their Brooks Brothers suits turned out to be less than terrifying, but that is a different matter.) The twitching nervousness, as Alberich’s slaves brought the hoard to Wotan’s realm, was almost unbearable.

It could be argued that the Berliners are sometimes too beautiful, too luxurious, too rounded. Their sonic fury is almost a bath, and when they batter you — as they did when Wotan and Loge descended to Nibelheim — you rather like it. The Berlin Philharmonic assaults you with velvet pillows. But there are worse complaints you could lodge against an orchestra.

In all, “Das Rheingold” was extremely symphonic, very much an orchestral work, on Saturday night. Unfortunately, the Berliners’ pizzicatos were lousy, just as those of lesser orchestras are. Accurate pizzicatos would have been a miracle too far.

Sir Simon Rattle is often a leisurely conductor, and he is sometimes leisurely to a fault. But this score seems to suit him, and he it. He conducted with intelligence and reason, doing nothing showy or improper. He seemed content to let his orchestra have at it. And his pacing – crucial in Wagner (as in other music) — was wise. For years, I have said that the afro of James Levine is the most reassuring sight in opera. Sir Simon, with his own afro, was commendable on Saturday night.

“Das Rheingold” requires a full 14singers, and there was not a loser in the Easter Festival’s cast. Some were better than others, of course, but how could that not be the case?

Outstanding in the cast was Lilli Paasikivi, the Finnish mezzosoprano singing Fricka. She has a thoroughly beautiful instrument, which she deploys expertly. Alberich was Dale Duesing, a fine singing actor. He relished the words Wagner has supplied, especially in tense moments. Wotan was Sir Willard White, whose chief quality is dignity — a quality that belongs to Wotan, too. Sir Willard was slightly underpowered, and not always precise, but these faults mattered little.

The bitchy Loge was Robert Gambill, who surely acted as he was directed. He succeeded in being what Alberich calls him — what Alberich calls Loge: a “cunning rogue.” Burkhard Ulrich was an excellent Mime, singing in a light, lovely, strange way. (Appropriately strange.) Others in the cast were either satisfying or adequate. Alfred Reiter, the Fafner, owns a glowing and wonderful bass.

And what about “Die Walküre,” the next installment of Wagner’s “Ring”? Stay tuned — Easter 2008 is but a year away.