MESSIAEN: Saint François d'Assise
Upshaw; van Dam, Merritt, Aler, Malmberg, Renard, Krause, D'Ase, Banlaky; Schoenberg Chorus, Hallé Orchestra, Nagano. Libretto & translation. DG 445176 (4)
Since it first appeared, in Paris in November 1983, Saint François d'Assise has achieved cult status -- owing partly to its difficulty (which, like that of Zimmermann's Die Soldaten, has prevented widespread productions) and partly to its mystical allure, comparable to that of plainchant,
Tavener, Górecki and Pärt, all currently fashionable. Olivier Messiaen (1908-92), having written vocal music but never an opera, was persuaded only with difficulty by Rolf Liebermann, then director of the Paris Opéra, to undertake the work. Based on the last period in St. Francis' life, it is contemplative, with little movement of plot or dialogue. As he wrote, Messiaen became more and more taken with the scenic element, and by the time he finished, he was convinced that Saint François needed the stage.
Though conceived from a Roman Catholic viewpoint, Saint François is not liturgical, and it has an ecumenical breadth. Unlike Vincent d'Indy's La Légende de Saint Christophe (1920), it has no axes to grind, and unlike Milhaud's Christophe Colomb (1930) or Honegger's Jeanne d'Arc au Bûcher (1938), it doesn't spread the word. It is simply a statement of faith, albeit in often obscure terms. Anyone familiar with the texts of Paul Claudel or the libretto of Dialogues des Carmélites will recognize the haze of symbolism that enshrouds Messiaen's libretto. Even the pious must be hard put to unravel its epigrams. ("Thou wert an upturned pyramid," François assures a leper, "upturned on its point, but God waited for thee, from the other side of error." In the next scene, Brother Léon intones, "I am afraid of the road, when the windows grow larger and more obscure, and when the leaves of the poinsettia no longer turn red.") The scene of François' sermon to the birds lasts three quarters of an hour, though the sermon itself is short and to the point. In the long run (Saint François plays five and a half hours), the composer's optimism is what enables him to share a bright vision with the listener. Saint François demands patience, but it also induces a trancelike ease of mind.
Because Messiaen trod his own path, undeterred by the schools and fashions of his contemporaries, listeners often wonder what to make of his music. When clangorous, it recreates a cacophony of nature rather than that of a man-made machine age; when gentle and sweet, it embraces banality without losing its innocence. It sounds neither retro nor modern, but somehow beyond time. Yet those who think of Messiaen only as a mystic are underrating his fiercely analytical mind. A man possessed, he understood his possession.
Saint François, remarkably, has been recorded three times. The first (1983) production, conducted by Seiji Ozawa with José van Dam in the title role, was taped live at the Paris Opéra and issued on Cybelia CDs. A September 1986 concert performance in Utrecht, led by Kent Nagano with Philippe Rouillon as François, emerged on KRO, a Dutch label. Both are fine performances, but neither album offers a side-by-side French/English libretto, and -- more to the point -- neither is currently listed as available in the U.S. DG's live stage recording, even brighter and clearer in sound (though singers are occasionally swamped by the orchestra), dates from the 1998 Salzburg Festival, again under Nagano, who studied the thorny score carefully with Messiaen and points up its piquant sonorities with zeal and precision. Like the composer's, the conductor's is a labor of love.
Perhaps not every singer in the DG cast is without peer in the other recordings. DG's Chris Merritt is a bit shaky as the Leper, though his agitation suits the character. But Dawn Upshaw achieves the disembodied lucidity needed for the Angel's lines, without the cloying mannerisms evident in much of her recent singing. As the four Brothers who accompany François, it would be hard to best John Aler, Tom Krause, Dirk d'Ase and Akos Banlaky. Like gemstones, all set off the central pearl: van Dam has penetrated and absorbed the saint's character, singing with humanity and measured thoughtfulness. His death scene, apparently patterned by Messiaen after that of Massenet's Don Quichotte, is touching and dignified, without a trace of mawkishness. (After Salzburg, van Dam has said he won't do the role anymore.)
Save perhaps Karlheinz Stockhausen, few other twentieth-century composers have pursued the ineffable, taking up where Scriabin left off at his death in 1915. ("I shall not die," the Russian master declared -- "I shall suffocate in holy ecstasy.") The luminous Saint François d'Assise is manna for mystics, birdwatchers, chant enthusiasts and devout Catholics. It also has the transcendental quality of every mythic spiritual journey.
JOHN W. FREEMAN
OPERA AND ORATORIO
PUCCINI: La Bohème
Gheorghiu, Scano; Alagna, Keenlyside, de Candia, D'Arcangelo, Mariotti;
Chorus and Orchestra of La Scala, Chailly. Text and translation. Decca 466 070-2First, to answer the logical question in the reader's mind: no, another recording of this much loved and much recorded opera was not needed. But apparently Decca couldn't let the opportunity to record La Bohème escape them while they still have Angela Gheorghiu under contract. (Her husband, Roberto Alagna, an EMI artist, joins her for this Decca project.) Publicity will do the rest, and this La Bohème will disappoint neither the producers nor prospective buyers.
This is a very fine performance indeed, with a touching and lovable Mimì and an impulsive and youthful-sounding Rodolfo who are spontaneously responsive in their intimate scenes. Gheorghiu's Mimì is full of delicate shadings in both of her arias, and her death scene is infinitely moving. Alagna displays a lovely mezza-voce in the right moments and, at all times, refrains from belting the high notes he securely possesses. His despair in the Act III scene with Marcello is keenly felt and enriched by the exquisite diminuendo in the phrase "per richiamarla in vita, non basta amor."
The two stars are surrounded by a fine group of bohemians. Elisabetta Scano is an unexaggerated, convincing Musetta; Simon Keenlyside's Marcello is firm and lively in action, while Roberto de Candia draws attention to his opening narrative about the doomed parrot. Colline's coat aria can be sung with either emotional involvement or philosophical detachment; Ildebrando D'Arcangelo and his conductor choose the latter approach, dramatically correct and smoothly sung.
Riccardo Chailly paces the music briskly without slighting its poetry. I do find his rendering of the fast passages (the opening of Act IV, for instance) a shade too aggressive, but he holds together the multiple strands of Act II with firm control. In sum, Gheorghiu ranks very high among the many memorable recorded interpreters of her role. Alagna (who has previously recorded a complete Bohème for EMI) has not yet given his Rodolfo an unmistakable personal imprint à la Gigli, Bjoerling, Bergonzi and Pavarotti.
GEORGE JELLINEK
WEILL: Der Silbersee
Lascarro, Wyn-Davies, Karnéus, Dernesch; Kruse, Gruber, Zednik, Clark. London Sinfonietta Chorus and Orchestra, Stenz. Texts and translation. BMG 09026-63447-2
Hindsight adds all kinds of historical resonance to Der Silbersee, written by Georg Kaiser and Kurt Weill on the cusp of Hitler's rise to power. With lyrics such as "It won't be forgotten" and "You may escape from the horror that may destroy all we know, yet the germ of creation always will struggle to grow," it is tempting to infer a certain prescience on their parts. Subtitled "Ein Wintermärchen," Der Silbersee, like Shakespeare's Winter's Tale, turns tragedy into hope as the agents of previously warring factions forge onward together toward a more promising future. When Olim, a simple country policeman, shoots the desperate Severin after a robbery, he is intrigued by the latter's sole booty -- a pineapple. (Interestingly, the pineapple returns in the musical Cabaret as an emblem of emancipation from the mundane deprivations of Depression-era Germany.) Olim, himself tempted by the contraband fruit, begins to identify with his victim and, in an astonishingly original character twist (which prefigures the German resistance), he rejects his position of power to become the engine of Severin's salvation. When Severin discovers that his benefactor is the man who shot him, he too, reveals a depth of understanding and asks to be chained up to keep from killing Olim in a vengeful rage. Ultimately, they wind up together on the wrong side of power, taking a leap of faith to flee successfully.
Weill, with Kaiser, once again exploits the morphing operatic singspiel form. The entire play with music lasts four hours; the eighty-five minutes of music (all included here) are more than enough to give a flavor of the whole. As Olim, H K Gruber plays against the enormity of his character's progression from dutiful arm of the law to renegade philanthropist, projecting a stolidness and lack of intelligence that make his transformation even more striking. Heinz Kruse, as Severin, sings fervently, and if his sound is occasionally labored in the upper register, it is easily forgiven in light of his dramatic commitment, also in evidence in his spoken sections. As the androgynously-named Fennimore, Juanita Lascarro displays an endearing combination of winsomeness and wisdom as she works to free them both. There are evocative supporting performances from Helga Dernesch and Heinz Zednik as the evil Frau von Luber and Baron Laur; Graham Clark as the seductive Lottery Agent; and Catrin Wyn-Davis and Katarina Karnéus as two salesgirls. The London Sinfonietta, led by Markus Stenz, plays with uncommon crispness and a sprightly, appropriately arch style. The London Sinfonietta Chorus lends a full-bodied, well-modulated sound to Weill's hymnlike choral sections, which embody conscience, both personal and national.
JOANNE SYDNEY LESSNER
GLUCK: Alceste
Ringholz, Treichl; Lavender; Drottningholm Theater Orchestra and Chorus, Östman. Texts and translations. Naxos 8.660066-68
This superb new recording of Gluck's 1767 Alceste is one of the most important opera releases to come along in years. It was in this original Italian version of Alceste that Gluck and his ambitious librettist Ranieri de' Calzabigi codified their reform of opera. Gluck prefaced the score, published in Vienna in 1769, with his famous manifesto, in which he declared his intention to eliminate "those abuses": "My greatest labor should be devoted to seeking a beautiful simplicity." The abuses Gluck was rebelling against were the increasingly unwieldy, highly florid da capo arias that he felt interfered with the drama in opera.
Gluck succeeded remarkably well in achieving his "beautiful simplicity" with the 1767 Alceste (perhaps even more than he had previously in the 1762 Orfeo ed Euridice), and it was a major success. But Gluck's revisions of Alceste for Paris in 1776 changed the opera dramatically: he reworked whole passages of music, eliminating many important arias and adding new ones. (Those familiar with the French version will notice immediately that the great aria "Divinités du Styx" is only half-formed in "Ombre, larve, compagne di morte.") Important characters in the 1767 Italian version (such as Ismene) are missing from the 1776 French version, their space in the drama taken up by new ones. (The New Grove Dictionary of Opera has an excellent comparison table of the two works.) The French Alceste is grander, perhaps, but also more somber and, unless sung by a sovereign soprano with the genius of a Callas, duller. And yet it is the French work that is known today; the Italian is rarely performed and has had only one previous recording, the interesting but failed 1956 Decca, with the aging (and, unfortunately, sub-par) Kirsten Flagstad.
Naxos' casting of Teresa Ringholz was an inspiration -- bright and agile of voice, bringing a moving vulnerability to the role, she is an ideal choice for the more lyric Viennese Alceste. The American soprano is outstanding in "Numi infernali" and "Non vi turbate" (this key aria in the Italian version was excised in the French). Miriam Treichl as Ismene, Justin Lavender as Ademeto, and Jonas Degerfelt as Evandro are all excellent. Conductor Arnold Östman has built an enviable reputation with his fine Mozart recordings from Drottningholm, but I've always felt they were a little too "speedy." Here Östman proves to be a Gluckian of the highest order; he has produced an Alceste that has unique lightness and delicacy and avoids the heavy-handed, the overly gloomy, and the dull. The recorded sound of the live performance at Drottningholm, featuring their marvelous antique wind and thunder machinery, is excellent. It is unlikely that we will ever have a better recording of this seminal work.
JAMES CAMNER
TAN DUN: Bitter Love
Ying Huang; New York Virtuoso Singers, Instrumental Ensemble, Tan Dun.
SONY Classical ASK 61658This severely reduced version of the classic Chinese opera The Peony Pavilion, directed in the theater by Peter Sellars, has played Europe and the West Coast and is set to a score by Chinese composer Tan Dun. What Tan has done for this sixty-minute recording is to "reimagine" his score and create a separate, parallel work for soprano, other vocal artists and small ensemble (including traditional Chinese instruments). This is not, however, a concert version of the work but a made-for-CD score that involves layering of tracks, both spoken and sung, over the music at various volume levels, producing an amalgam of sound akin to that often done by pop recording groups. The music is also pop-influenced, for Tan has an acute ear for contemporary sound, involving repetition of simple themes (a sort of motto theme, for example, begins and ends the recording) with a variety of instrumental combinations overlaid by the voices. It is highly listenable music -- if tending to be more background than foreground in its impact -- but the fragmentation of the text (sung in English) and the use of text as sounds set against other sounds, makes hash of whatever story the opera -- as opposed to this reimagination of it -- is trying to convey. Soprano Ying Huang's almost vibratoless voice fits perfectly into this "floating musical world," and Tan conducts the chorus and ensemble with musicality and sureness.
PATRICK J. SMITH
WEBER, arr. Berlioz: Der Freischütz (French version and recitatives by Hector Berlioz)
Perrin, Constantin; Soulet, Perroni, Henry, Bernadi, Dudziak, Lenaerts; Choeurs de Saint-Eustache, Duchesne; Philharmonie de Chambre Hongroise, Penin. French text and English translation (no German). L'empreinte digitale 13100/101 (2)
Shakespeare, Beethoven and Carl Maria von Weber were probably the greatest artistic influences on Hector Berlioz. In his Memoirs, Berlioz tells of spending hours trying to track down Weber in Paris, only to show up at each location moments after his idol had left. Berlioz' French version of Der Freischütz, which included recitatives he composed to replace dialogue scenes (the spoken word could not sully the stage of the Opéra), was a project near to his heart. It was also rather successful, and in later years, he signed over the royalties to his wife, Harriet, in order to give her an income of her own. This is the first recording of Berlioz' Freischütz, and it raises once again all those nagging questions about the merits of translation. In his notes, conductor Jean-Paul Penin suggests that operas should be translated only into related languages, i.e. German into English, French into Italian, etc. There is a case to be made for that, as it becomes clear from this recording that German into French is, though not necessarily impossible, inescapably problematic.
The overall impression is that Der Freischütz has been entirely Frenchified, which is a strange thing for a work that is quintessentially Germanic in both story and music, and whose world premiere in Berlin (1821) was used to celebrate Germany's freedom from Napoleonic rule. So when is it convincing and when does it cause cognitive dissonance? The most emblematic example of the latter is revealed in the music of Ännchen, all of which is consciously rooted in German folksong, with its weighty downbeats and jaunty rhythms. Anne Constantin wields her over-eager soprano percussively in a way that might be appropriate if she were singing in German but sounds clunky and badly accented in French.
On the other hand, Agathe's "Leise, leise, fromme Weise" (spun out in a mesmerizingly ethereal, but grounded, line by Cécile Perrin) works quite well in French and reveals, surprisingly, the seeds of Berlioz' scena for Béatrice "Dieu! Que viens-je d'entendre?" Kaspar's aria, "Schweig' schweig'" (dramatically rendered here by Jacques Perroni), also begins to sound naturally Gallic. For Max, the comfort level is a half-and-half proposition, but tenor François Soulet manages well throughout, displaying a rich, full sound and mellow diction. Unfortunately, the orchestral playing under Penin is far too polite, glossing over the romantic tension and melodrama of Weber's mercurial score. This is most noticeable in the Wolf's Glen, which just plain isn't scary. The choral singing is inexcusably weak and out of tune.
The controversial recitatives fit in seamlessly, drawing primarily from leitmotifs found in the set pieces and recits that Weber had already included. But Berlioz does embellish, both musically and dramatically: in the recitative before the Act II trio, he adds tension and irony with characteristically Berliozian sound, and in Kaspar's description of free bullets he includes a reference to the assassination of a Swedish king not found in the original. Other alterations include the omission of both the entr'acte and the solo bridesmaids in Agathe's wedding song, but mostly Berlioz is respectful and faithful. (Samiel's few lines are intoned, rather than spoken or sung, thus preserving his otherworldliness.)
Der Freischütz stands at the crossroads between Classical and Romantic opera; the German version presages Wagner, but the restrained liquidity of the French language and this placid performance seem to hark backward. The art of translation is a tricky one at best. What it comes down to is this: which version will speak to French audiences more directly -- one that relates to their own tastes and experiences, or one that allows them the voyeur's glance into an exotic (in this case, German) scenario? Certainly, as far as a truly French version of Der Freischütz goes, this is probably as good as it gets. The question remains, how necessary is it?
J.S.L.
ARRIETA: Marina
Bayo, Santana; Kraus, Pons, Baquerizo, Rodriguez; Rondalla and Symphony of Tenerife, Perez. Text and translations. Valois/Auvidis 4845 (2)
This is a graceful farewell from the late, great Spanish tenor Alfredo Kraus in an example of that now rare species, the zarzuela grande. Marina began slightly less grandly, in 1855, but was later amplified by its composer, Emilio Arrieta, into the three-act opera version favored by modern audiences. Suffused with Italianisms, becoming noticeably Spanish in Act III with several recognizable dance rhythms, it is Madrid's answer to the Verdi and other operas popular at the time. Tuneful it is, and certainly salted by the sea breezes of its Mediterranean setting -- the opening is particularly evocative. But don't count on Arrieta furnishing the original zing of his contemporary, Barbieri, who was more successful in Iberianizing zarzuela. Still, as a vehicle for Spanish singers, Marina offers vocal opportunities, and these are very well taken by María Bayo, Juan Pons and Kraus, who at seventy-two sounds amazingly fresh and ardent as a young mariner. The supporting chorus and orchestra are fine, and well encoded, and the packaging is up to this series' excellent level (although the cover painting and graphics might mislead you into thinking this was a modern work).
RICHARD TRAUBNER
BORTNIANSKY: Alcide
Datsko, Zagorulko, Pasichnyk; Garayt; Gloria Chamber Chorus, Leopolis Chamber Orchestra, Loré. Libretto & translation. Érol 98001 (Qualiton, dist.)
Though he was a Ukrainian composer and an important figure in the history of Russian church music, Dimitri Stepanovich Bortniansky -- unlike Glinka -- was no "father of Russian opera." In Alcide (1778), he wrote the sort of court entertainment that his later employers, Catherine the Great and her successor, Paul I, would have specified. He wrote it not for them but for the Venetian stage, during his years of study in Italy with Baldassare Galuppi. The libretto is by Metastasio, the fashionable theater poet of the era. Musically, the work is indistinguishable from other Italian operas of the period, with some graceful French touches thrown in, notably in the dance movements.
Luckily, this recording escapes the trap of a scholarly, conscientious run-through, which might make the work seem dull. Instead, gifted singers attack the difficult music with bright tone and technical assurance, under the leadership of Jean-Pierre Loré, who clearly considers it as much fun as they do. (The disc label, "Érol," is the conductor's name spelled backward.) A joint French-Ukrainian venture, this CD was sponsored by the Orfiana Society, recorded in the St. Ursula Church of Lviv and produced by P.I.C. (Productions Internationales Culturelles) in Gentilly.
The small cast consists of three Ukrainian sopranos, of suitably differentiated timbre, and a French tenor. The plot of Alcide concerns the young Hercules (known then as Alcides), who is torn between the blandishments of Edonide, representing pleasure, and Aretea, representing virtue. Under the guidance of his tutor, Fronimo, he chooses to follow virtue without sacrificing pleasure, which needs only to be controlled by reason.
Edonide (Marina Zagorulko) lures Alcide (Natalya Datsko) with an aria couched in seductive orchestral sonorities, but oddly enough, it is Aretea (Olga Pasichnyk, a light, shimmering soprano) who has the more sensuous voice, giving away her stronger appeal to the hero. Alcide's music, imbued by both composer and soloist with youthful energy and assurance, establishes the young man's character. Aretea's aria in praise of virtue is active and exciting, with high coloratura and trumpet flourishes. Though Fronimo's role is slight, Patrick Garayt gives it authority; his low voice is strong enough, his upper tones expertly placed in the head range, with accurate passagework and attractive tone in arguing the attractions of reason. The three sopranos are well-schooled, with good Italian, lacking only more dramatic address and conversational ease in the recitatives. Alcide is a charming piece, which might be compared to the Faithful Shepherdess divertissement in Tchaikovsky's Queen of Spades.
J.W.F.
CHORAL AND SONG STRAVINSKY: Sacred Choral Works
Hardy; Saudelli, Bostridge; Netherlands Chamber Choir, Schönberg Ensemble,
de Leeuw. 1996. Texts and translations. Philips 454 477-2Stravinsky's Mass is probably the best known of this varied and superbly performed collection of his choral pieces. This is certainly the most beautiful recording of the Mass I've ever heard, but it is almost too polished -- Reinbert de Leeuw and the Netherlands Chamber Choir are smoothly reverential, responding to the decidedly archaic quality of the piece, yet it is that uniquely Stravinskian juxtaposition of the ancient and modern that makes his take on the liturgy so formidably compelling, and those perfectly calibrated dissonances seem almost glossed over here. Still, it is a luxuriant listening experience: the ten winds and brass of the Schönberg Ensemble play with impeccable intonation and blend, and the recorded sound is sumptuous. (If you're after more vitality, try Leonard Bernstein with the English Bach Festival Chorus and Orchestra on Deutsche Grammophon, re-mastered from the 1977 LP.)
This letter-perfect performance standard is consistent throughout the disc. The Anthem, a four-part a cappella setting of an excerpt from T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets, is extremely challenging, but the Netherlands Chamber Choir easily navigates the dense chromatic thickets. An interesting stylistic contrast is provided by the settings of the Pater Noster, Credo and Ave Maria in Slavonic, which are quite tame harmonically. Filling out the set are the Introitus, which is a setting of the "Requiem aeternam" written in Eliot's memory -- a chilling vision of death from an ailing but fully-possessed eighty-three-year-old master; Tres sacrae cantiones, Stravinsky's reconstructions of three incomplete Gesualdo part-songs; and the 1952 Cantata, a preliminary experiment with serial procedures, using anonymous early English texts. Rosemary Hardy and Ian Bostridge, soloists in the latter piece, both have a refreshingly unaffected way with the language that is quite pleasing, though the balance features them almost as members of the instrumental ensemble rather than as soloists. In any case, all of the above are quite impressively done, and a few selections are currently available nowhere else.
JOSHUA ROSENBLUM
IRELAND: Songs
Milne; Ainsley, Maltman. Johnson, piano. Texts. Hyperion CDA 67261
John Ireland wrote songs throughout much of his compositional life, and this collection of sixty-eight, written over the course of more than thirty years, does not claim to be complete. Among the poets are William Blake, Aldous Huxley, Emily Brontë and Robert Louis Stevenson. Most of the settings are deferential to a fault. Ireland's true reverence for the poets often causes him to be overly literal and careful; a setting of Joyce's "Tutto è sciolto" even cheapens the poem a bit. He is reluctant to put anything of interest in the piano part during the vocal lines. But the best of these songs, such as two of the A. E. Housman settings ("Ladslove" and "The Heart's Desire") and Mary Coleridge's "The Sacred Flame," have a suppleness and compositional unity that are appealing indeed.
Pianist Graham Johnson, the guiding spirit behind so many excellent lieder recordings, again wins admiration for his unfailingly apt choices of tempo, his unobtrusive attention to the needs of the singers and his rare ability to hold songs (even songs of less than great inspiration) together as single thoughts. His performance of "Santa Chiara," for example, has the integrity usually found only when composers are playing their own works. In the brief piano solo, "Spring will not wait," Johnson proves to be something of a singer himself.
The vocal soloists are a fine group. John Mark Ainsley's beautiful way of molding his vocal lines along the words is especially appropriate to Ireland's style. (In a provocative choice, he is assigned the overwrought "My true love hath my heart and I have his.") Baritone Christopher Maltman has a more forward sound yet does not lose quality in the loudest dynamics, and his pronunciation of English is sensual. He works hard to find a variety of phrasing that helps mitigate the sing-songy tendencies of the weaker pieces. Soprano Lisa Milne performs her selections in a way that invites comparison to folksinging; this is especially effective in "Mother and Child," a cycle of eight tiny poems by Christina Rossetti.
WILLIAM R. BRAUN
ORFF: Carmina Burana
Oelze; Kuebler, Keenlyside; Chor und Orchester der Deutschen Oper Berlin, Knabenchor Berlin, Thielemann. Text and translations. Deutsche Grammophon 289 435 587-2
In an interview in the publicity materials accompanying this new recording of Carmina Burana, conductor Christian Thielemann says that Carl Orff's perennially popular cantata "draws its life from rhythm." Agreed, but I don't hear enough evidence of that approach in Thielemann's performance. Gramophone applauds this recording for bringing out the often overlooked lyrical aspects of the piece, but the lyrical parts need to have a pulse, too, and many of them sag. Also lacking in excitement are the soft passages of the rhythmic sections -- there's no sense of contained kinetic energy waiting to explode. The famously thundering "O Fortuna" (familiar to anyone who has ever seen a movie preview or a TV commercial) has plenty of verve and momentum, to be sure, and the brass are spectacular in the subsequent "Fortune plango vulnera," but several numbers purportedly celebrating nature and/or love display no joy or rhythmic snap. Some important orchestral detail is fuzzy. The chorus, through a combination of too much reverb, remote miking and lack of bite in their enunciation, makes the Latin sound as if it were, well, a dead language.
Things do pick up considerably with Simon Keenlyside's robust, well-characterized rendering of "Estuans interius," which opens the "In taverna" section. He also provides a sweet and soulful rendering of "Omnia Sol temerat," his first solo. In addition, Christiane Oelze sings with a loveliness that is both pure and full-bodied, and tenor David Kuebler brings vibrant comic suffering to the fiendishly high "roasting swan" song.
Thielemann and Deutsche Grammophon seem to understand that it is incumbent upon them to provide a good reason for yet another recording of this piece (Schwann currently lists forty-three). The blurb on the outside says, "One of DG's true 'sonic spectaculars.' One of the most popular pieces of classical music ever written. One of the most talked-about young conductors." But this recording, notwithstanding plenty of high points, is too full of lulls and too lacking in choral vitality to hold its own in a very crowded field. For many, the Eugen Jochum recording, also on Deutsche Grammophon, with this very chorus and orchestra (albeit thirty years ago), was always the standard by which all others should be measured. It still is -- every bar, whether fast or slow, loud or soft, pulses with urgency. And it's now available at mid-price.
J.R.
RECITAL
Renée Fleming
"STRAUSS HEROINES" Arias and scenes from Der Rosenkavalier, Arabella and Capriccio. With Bonney, Su. Graham, Berry; Vienna Philharmonic, Eschenbach. Texts and translations. Decca 289 466 314-2
In the beginning we had Elisabeth Schwarzkopf and Lisa della Casa. One was warm, deliciously poised and polished, potentially precious, the self-conscious mistress of myriad subtle nuances. The other was cool, radiant and suave, vaguely narcissistic, more concerned with elegant generalities than with interpretive minutiae. Both specialized in the pensive heroines of Richard Strauss, and both offered abundant pleasures. Preference was a matter of taste and a matter of mood.
And now we have Renée Fleming, a thinking-person's soprano who bridges the best of both worlds. She commands an obvious affinity for the bittersweet Germanic rhetoric, and her vibrant, wide-ranging, gently opulent soprano really blossoms in Strauss' long-lined cantilena. She colors the text sensitively, cares about climactic effects, exults in the sensuality that binds word to melody. She acts with her voice, knowingly and tellingly. But she never exaggerates, never whimpers, never simpers, never confuses pathos with tragedy.
Everything about this new release bespeaks discerning insight. Everything, that is, except an excruciatingly silly cover photo that reveals the thoroughly modern diva, in full evening-gown regalia, gazing seductively at the ceiling as she lolls on someone's bed. It must mean something.
Fleming's properly youthful, desperately lucid, exceptionally tender Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier, a characterization to be introduced to Metropolitan Opera audiences in January, is represented here with the entire Act I finale -- beginning with the mirror monologue -- plus the aching and arching flights of renunciation in Act III. Susan Graham complements the soprano as an exquisitely passionate Octavian, and Barbara Bonney soars and shimmers gloriously as Sophie in the trio and valedictory duet.
The Vienna Philharmonic under Christoph Eschenbach respects the ebb, flow and subtle ritards of tradition, enveloping the perfectly blended voices in lush yet transparent sonorities most other orchestras can only envy. Although the conductor opts for dangerously slow, marvelously expansive tempos in the best Knappertsbusch tradition, he speeds up oddly in one telling place: the tiny passage depicting the hobbled gait of the Marschallin as she imagines old age.
Bonney returns to join Fleming for the floating nostalgia of "Aber der Richtige" from Arabella. Eschenbach and the Philharmonic invoke the moonlit rapture of the Capriccio interlude before Fleming ponders the Countess' amorous predicament with equal appeal to head and heart. The inherent quandary -- essentially a symbolic choice between poetry and music -- has never seemed more elusive, or more poignant.
Decca generously fills in all the musical blanks. An intricate ensemble of befuddled footmen is engaged just for the brief description of Octavian's hasty departure in the first act of Rosenkavalier, and none less than Walter Berry declaims Faninal's single exit line stylishly. Berry reappears as a wry Major-Domo for the ultimate conversation in Capriccio.
MARTIN BERNHEIMER
José Cura
"VERISMO" Arias and orchestral selections by Leoncavallo, Catalani,
Giordano, Cilèa, Franchetti and Mascagni. Philharmonia Orchestra, Cura. Texts and translations. Erato 3984-27317Ramón Vargas
"L'AMOUR, L'AMOUR" Arias by Gounod, Massenet, Donizetti, Tchaikovsky, Verdi and Puccini. Munich Radio Orchestra, Viotti. Texts and translations. RCA/BMG 74321-61464
This all-verismo recital proves to be a comfortable fit for the red-blooded style of José Cura, a fiercely magnetic singing actor. Cura's dark, throaty, streetwise timbre is often compelling in material usually delivered with more sheer ping, but his technique is less persuasive; one hopes he will correct the questionable (and tiresome) mannerism of vaulting into notes instead of hitting them directly. However, Cura's sex appeal and star quality (especially dazzling in Cavalleria Rusticana, Lodoletta and Leoncavallo's Bohème) are unmistakable even if his judgment is occasionally questionable. In an attempt, one supposes, at some kind of an operatic hat trick, Cura also conducts the program (passably) and sings the baritone prologue to Pagliacci (poorly).
Ramón Vargas makes an altogether tidier impression on his BMG recital of lyric tenor standards. The cream of the Vargas program is a group of five Donizetti arias, each item delivered with the elegance and discretion familiar from the tenor's onstage work. The doomed Earl of Essex' prison scene ("Come uno spirto angelico") from Roberto Devereux is first-rate, the meandering recitative bitten off crisply and the waltz-like tune of the central aria shaped with commendable smoothness. "Una furtiva lagrima" is appropriately sweet and tender from beginning to end -- how refreshing to hear Nemorino's "M'ama, sì, m'ama" actually sung rather than bawled! Vargas gives Edgardo's "Tombe degli avi miei" an intelligent, ardent reading, inflected with imagination (witness the neat balance of passion and envy in "tu ridi, esulti accanto al felice consorte") and charged with emotion, but misses the final degree of abandon that made his performance the hit of the Met's Lucias last season. Marcello Viotti and the Munich Radio Orchestra offer accomplished (if occasionally somewhat bland) support.
F. PAUL DRISCOLL
Angelika Kirchschlager
"WHEN NIGHT FALLS" Songs and arias by Brahms, Schubert, Sondheim, Copland et al. Williams, guitar; Bashmet, viola; Deutsch, piano; Vignoles, piano. Texts and translations. Sony Classical ASK 64498
Following on the heels of Heidi Grant Murphy's lullaby collection, Dreamscapes, is this collection of Angelika Kirchschlager's favorite nocturnes, which the mezzo dedicates to her young son. Unlike Murphy's disc, which clearly aims to guide the under-ten set and their parents to restful slumber, Kirchschlager's When Night Falls seems more like a thematically programmed recital than a Sominex substitute. Her sweetly plush mezzo does provide the aural equivalent of being wrapped in a goose-down comforter, but those who listen only for relaxation purposes will miss the sophistication of Kirchschlager's musicianship. As the smile in her voice creates a soothing intimacy, her consistently elegant artistry is evident in soulful, yearning interpretations of such varied pieces as Brahms' "Geistliches Wiegenlied" and Sondheim's "Not While I'm Around" (from Sweeney Todd). (Her English diction occasionally betrays her Viennese roots.) Graceful accompaniment is provided by guitarist John Williams, violist Yuri Bashmet, and Helmut Deutsch and Roger Vignoles, who share the piano responsibilities. If Kirchschlager's son gets a bedtime recital like this every night, he is a very lucky young man.
J.S.L.
Kiri Te Kanawa
"MAORI SONGS" Maori Group, The Abbey Road Ensemble, Day and Lynch. Synopses only. EMI 56828 2 6
Kiri Te Kanawa's new disc is a unique collection of Maori melodies, clearly a labor of love and a reflection of the pride she takes in her New Zealand musical heritage. The songs, most dating from the early decades of the twentieth century and based on Western hymn tunes and folksongs, are appealing in their simplicity and directness. Several are familiar melodies that have appeared in other guises (notably, "Po Ata Rau," adapted by the Maori from an Australian piano solo in 1913 and later known as "Now Is the Hour," a popular song of the 1940s and '50s). The gentle lullabies and poignant ballads are well-suited to Dame Kiri's serene soprano, and the chorus sings the exuberant dance tunes with verve and infectious warmth. Unfortunately, the instrumental arrangements tend to overwhelm the simpler songs with banal modulations and soupy strings reminiscent of the worst excesses of Percy Faith.
Listeners expecting original Maori tribal music based on rhythmic chants will be disappointed, but for those who lament today's dearth of hummable tunes, this gentle stroll down Memory Lane will be a veritable feast for the ears.
CORNELIA IREDELL
Denyce Graves
"VOCE DI DONNA" Arias by Purcell, Donizetti, Bizet, Saint-Saëns, Cilèa, Barber et al. Munich Radio Orchestra, Barbacini. Texts and translations. RCA Red Seal 09026-63509-2
With her first recital album for RCA, mezzo-soprano Denyce Graves confirms her place among the stars of opera today. Graves smartly begins and ends the program with selections from her trademark roles of Carmen and Saint-Saëns' Dalila, and the majority of the performances in between are solid ones. The truly shining moments here are the verismo arias -- "Acerba voluttà" from Cilèa's Adriana Lecouvreur and "Voi lo sapete" from Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana (wherein the mezzo heightens the drama with her expansive tone and excellent upper register) -- and her impressive delivery of the demanding final line of "O mio Fernando" from Donizetti's La Favorite, a decending scale from a sustained high G-sharp to a low B, followed by a sustained high A. Also commendable is Graves' rendition of "Must the winter come so soon" from Barber's Vanessa, a less showy piece than some of the others on the disc but convincing evidence of Graves' ability to handle a more introspective role. Graves does not fare so well with some of the other more restrained selections, which lay bare her sometimes unfocused middle range. Dido's "When I am laid in earth" is the most unsatisfying performance of the set: most of the notes are attacked with an uncolored tone, which is fuzzy enough to make the pitch sound compromised. The Munich Radio Orchestra sounds polished and rich in tone under the direction of Maurizio Barbacini.
ALEXANDER BAUER
Monica Groop
Loewe: Lieder und Balladen, Complete Song Edition, Vol. 11. Garben, piano.
Text and translations. CPO 999 612-2Monica Groop's musicianship and intelligence shine through in her excellent diction and dramatic intuition, while her warmth and evenness of tone invite the listener into the world she creates for each song she sings. She makes the most of these idiosyncratic ballads of Carl Loewe, which, while not so immediately accessible as those of his more famous contemporaries, are nevertheless provocative and worth exploring. Highlights include his mercurial setting of "Ich denke dein" (or "Nähe des Geliebtens," as Goethe's poem is properly called); his song cycle "Agnete," based on a Danish poem about a maiden and a merman; and "Die Katzenkönigin," a playful depiction of the inevitable relationship between cat and mouse. Groop weaves a captivating spell throughout, with steady, polished accompaniment by Cord Garben, who spearheaded the effort to record a complete edition of Loewe's vocal music for CPO, having previously completed similar projects for DG featuring the music of Zemlinsky and Berlioz. Kudos to Garben for giving Loewe's songs equal time and for enlisting Groop to sing them.
J.S.L.
Julianne Baird
"GLORIOUS HANDEL" Arias from Berenice, Semele, Faramondo et al. Brewer Chamber Orchestra, Palmer. Texts and translations. Newport Classic, NPD 85646
Soprano Julianne Baird's collection of Handel arias is consistently accomplished vocally but uneven dramatically. Baird and conductor Rudolph Palmer avoid exaggerated caesuras and overdone dynamics, and the soprano tears through melismas and trills with discipline and flair, making them seem effortless, as in her graceful performance of "Vedesti mai sul prato" from Siroe. However, Baird does not always sing dramatically complete phrases, especially in the more florid selections included here: "Se ben mi lusinga" from Faramondo, for example, sounds more like an academic vocalise than an expression of character. Baird's short, quick, audible breaths also break the mood. She is much more successful in "Where'er you walk" (Jupiter's typically tenor aria from Semele), a subtle, beautifully sung and dramatically well thought-out performance. Also good is a somber, sophisticated "Calm Thou my soul.... Convey me to some peaceful shore," from the death scene of Alexander Balus.
GARTH BARDSLEY
HISTORICAL
WAGNER: Götterdämmerung
Varnay, Höngen, Mödl, Schwarzkopf, H. Ludwig, Töpper, Siewert, Malaniuk; Aldenhoff, Uhde, Weber, Pflanzl; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra and Chorus, Knappertsbusch. 1951. Texts and translations. Testament SBT 4175 (4)
Through the years this performance from the reopened Bayreuth Festival has acquired considerable mystique among record collectors, fueled, in part, by Decca producer John Culshaw's endlessly fascinating book Ring Resounding. Decca, and long-time rival EMI, both recorded parts of Bayreuth's 1951 festival, and Culshaw was given the go-ahead to release this Götterdämmerung -- of which he writes in glowing terms -- only to have the decision abruptly reversed while the tapes were still being edited. On the next page of his book, Culshaw suddenly remarks, "Like anything with scarcity value, the reputation of this set has soared out of all proportion to its artistic worth," though he praises Varnay, Weber and Knappertsbusch. Still, collectors salivated for the opportunity to make up their own minds, something they can now do thanks to this release from Testament.
It is spectacular. Even with Knappertsbusch apparently taking naps while conducting what must be one of the slowest Götterdämmerungs ever, and the Bayreuth Orchestra's sometimes ragged ensemble and intonation (especially in the strings), even with Bernd Aldenhoff's wildly uneven Siegfried, there is a power to this performance that must be heard to be believed.
Best of all is Astrid Varnay's Brünnhilde, which cannot be praised too highly. She is in miraculous voice, even and rich from top to bottom; she tosses off notes above the staff with almost scornful ease. She holds the high C at the end of the love duet for the entire eleven beats Wagner requests, and sounds as if she easily could go on for another eleven. She has power to spare, but also the vocal delicacy to sing precisely all the trills and coloratura Wagner wrote for Brünnhilde. Every note, every word is drenched with emotion and drama. Her Brünnhilde moves unerringly from erotic ecstasy through rage, sorrow, despair and vengeance, to a state of nobility and acceptance that is simply overwhelming. About two minutes from the end of Varnay's immolation scene, I burst into tears. Only a few times in one's life is one privileged to hear such a performance.
Elisabeth Höngen's Waltraute is equally superb, and the scene between the two sisters is mesmerizing. Martha Mödl, luxuriously cast as both the Third Norn and Gutrune, more than holds her own in such company. Her scene in Act III defines "spine-tingling." Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Hanna Ludwig and Hertha Töpper are unusually well blended Rheinmaidens, but the Norn Scene suffers from Second Norn Ira Malaniuk's persistent pitch problems.
Ludwig Weber's Hagen is the catalyst Wagner wanted. When Hagen is manipulating another character, Weber is at his best, coloring his voice perfectly for great singing drama, though Knappertsbusch's slothful tempos occasionally result in patches of vocal unsteadiness. Hermann Uhde, once past a rough Act I, is an unusually strong Gunther, but Heinrich Pflanzl plays fast and loose with Alberich's music. Bernd Aldenhoff is equally careless as Siegfried, generally lunging (unsuccessfully) at notes above the staff, though his high C in Act III is spot-on and held for some time. Some of Aldenhoff's soft singing is appealing, but sustained notes are frequently marred by a wobble, and his performance is too erratic to be enjoyable.
The recorded sound is somewhat muffled and orchestral balances are often rough, though the superb playing of the clarinets and offstage horn come through. When singers move around the stage, their voices occasionally fade, and the microphones pick up noise in the orchestra and, from time to time, what must be the prompter. But despite these negatives, this is truly a legendary performance.
PAUL THOMASON
STRAUSS: Elektra
Borkh, Schuh, Resnik; Rayson, Crofoot; New Orleans Opera Orchestra and Chorus, Andersson, 1966. No texts. VAI Audio VAIA 1170-2 (2)
Though this is a respectable enough provincial performance of Strauss' Elektra, it cannot, in all honesty, be recommended to any except the most ardent fans of Inge Borkh and Regina Resnik, both of whom recorded their roles in the opera commercially. Resnik is available under Solti's direction on London. Borkh's complete performance is on DG with Böhm, but best of all are her extended scenes on BMG with Paul Schoeffler, Frances Yeend and the great Fritz Reiner conducting the Chicago Symphony in 1956.
This CD is a composite recording taken from 1966 performances given by the New Orleans Opera. Both Borkh and Resnik were committed artists whose stage presence and dramatic abilities were a significant part of the evening. Judging by the obviously ecstatic audience, Elektra and Klytämnestra must have been acting up a storm on December 1 and 3. But without the visual aids, this is a performance that never really jells.
Even the most sophisticated orchestras find Strauss' score a daunting undertaking, and the New Orleans Opera Orchestra, led by Knud Andersson, is enthusiastic, but not really up to the task. At times one wonders if the performance is simply going to unravel. In particular Borkh's almost constant use of subtle rubato means she and the conductor are seldom truly in sync, and as a result there is no underlying pulse, no building to climaxes. But Borkh and Audrey Schuh (Chrysothemis) both let out some spectacular high notes, instantly rewarded with salvos of applause from the audience, which also applauds Borkh's entrance and both Resnik's entrance and exit. Oddly enough, it's thrilling to hear.
The real gem of this CD is found in the bonus tracks. The year following Elektra, Borkh returned to do Lady Macbeth. "Vieni, t'affretta" and "La luce langue" are labored, but her sleepwalking scene is nothing short of dazzling. Vocally and dramatically, it ranks with the greatest on record; even the lowered ending cannot rob the scene of its magical spell.
P.T.
MASSÉ: Galathée
Morlet; Gresse, Jouvin, Vaguet; Archainbaud. With other excerpts from French opera. Notes, no texts. Malibran-Music 128
The Pygmalion and Galatea story has attracted many musical-theater giants, including Suppé, Lerner and Loewe, even W. S. Gilbert, and this French version was a huge 1852 hit at the Paris Opéra-Comique, where it remained in the repertory for years. This 1912 version of Galathée will excite admirers of French singing but is perhaps too antique a document to make the general public flock en masse to Massé. (A new recording with a good orchestra, plus a libretto, would be more helpful in this regard.) Vocally, however, there is much to admire in the suave, forthright Gallic grace of such Pathé singers as Jane Morlet and Alex Jouvin, soprano and comic tenor of the Trianon-Lyrique at the time, and André Gresse, an Opéra bass here taking the role of Pygmalion -- ill-advisedly, I think, as it was written for a contralto and thus spoils Massé's intended double-female effect. Five bonus tracks include two numbers from Ambroise Thomas' weird 1850 opéra-comique spin on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, one with Gresse singing the "air de Falstaff"(!).
R. T.
Jane Bathori
"THE COMPLETE RECORDINGS" Songs by Mozart, Milhaud, Debussy, Satie, Ravel, Tailleferre et al. Piano accompaniments by Milhaud and Bathori. No texts or translations. Marston 51009-2
Though she enjoyed some successes under Toscanini at La Scala, French soprano Jane Bathori devoted herself largely to concerts and recitals in Paris, where she worked closely with the major composers of mélodies. The recorded output, all dating from 1928-30, finds her in the twilight of her career, the attractive lyric timbre tiring easily. The involuntary subtext, with its intimations of mortality, proves appropriate to Milhaud's "Poèmes juifs" or the gloomy "Colloque sentimental" of Debussy. She can only approximate the strict geometry of a couple of translated Mozart songs or the sparkle of Tailleferre's up-tempo folktunes. But once you've adjusted to the modest scale, Bathori begins to reveal considerable charm, subtlety and, in the right setting, an indefinable authority. That attribute may derive from her native empathy with the texts and her original training as a concert pianist. A strong sense of line marks her treatment of Milhaud's "Le convive" or Debussy's "C'est l'extase." Her holistic approach embodies a mood without overweighting details. Thus the Satie bagatelles and Ravel's "Histoires naturelles" seem spontaneously witty; three "Bilitis" selections hint at an unsuspected sensuality, and Bathori stakes a convincing claim to two melancholy Hahn classics.
DAVID J. BAKER
New releases devoted to Holst, Berlioz, Schumann, Diepenbrock and Sternefeld; recitals from Mária Tiboldi, Ruth Ziesak and Delphine Haidan; a historic Bruckner Te Deum is reissued.
OPERA AND ORATORIO HOLST: The Wandering Scholar; Suite de ballet; A Song of the Night
Attrot; Archer, Opie, Maxwell; Hatfield (violin); Northern Sinfonia, Hickox. 1996. Text and translations. Chandos 9734
Gustav Holst, prolific and serious-minded, was annoyed that the astonishing success of The Planets created a public expectation that he repeat himself. As the years went by, he was relieved when his fame gradually evaporated, so he could once again compose without encumbrance. The Wandering Scholar (1920-30), the last of his four published works for the stage, is a fresh, surprising twenty-five minute chamber opera about hypocrisy and infidelity. The libretto, Arnold Bax's adaptation of a Helen Waddell story, is continually inventive, if occasionally anachronistic in its coy references to adultery.
Holst's love of folk-song is apparent, but his settings are decidedly non-strophic, and his spare, original harmonic language (the angular vocal lines are often doubled in octaves by the orchestra) brings fully-fleshed characters to life. The four soloists make the most of their brief but juicy roles. Bass Donald Maxwell, as the marvelously gruff parson, brings the same relish to seducing a deceitful young wife (the amusingly flighty but vocally secure Ingrid Attrot) as he does to getting rid of the intrusive scholar, tenor Neill Archer, whose pure-voiced supplication later transforms gratifyingly with his triumphant revelations. Baritone Alan Opie, as the nearly-cuckolded husband, has the vocal heft and sure musicianship to demostrate who rules the roost at the end.
The Suite de Ballet and A Song of the Night, a meditation for violin and orchestra, are both immature but quite pleasing works. It's a shame more violinists don't know and play the latter (beautifully performed here by Lesley Hatfield). Hickox has made a whole series of recordings with Chandos of never- or rarely-recorded Holst pieces, and he conducts with the authority of the devotee. This disc alone gives us plenty of reason to investigate Holst's large body of unjustly ignored extra-planetary music.
J.R.
BERLIOZ: Requiem
Schade; Toronto Mendelssohn Youth Choir, Cooper; Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, Elora Festival Orchestra, Edison. Texts and translations, Naxos 8.554494-95 (2)
The famously out-sized orchestration (four brass ensembles and eight sets of timpani) of Berlioz's Requiem presents a unique challenge to any group undertaking a recording of the work. In this budget offering from Naxos, recorded in a Canadian cathedral, the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and Youth Choir cannot quite match the power of the expanded Elora Festival Orchestra, nor has the recording engineer found a way to mitigate the difference. The cataclysmic entrance of the brass in the "Dies Irae" is appropriately hair-raising without being ear-splitting, but unfortunately the levels don't seem to have been adjusted for other parts of the piece's broad dynamic range. Under the capable direction of Noel Edison, the choir does distinguish themselves with hushed precision and graceful phrasing in the a capella "Querens Me"; in the "Sanctus", Michael Schade's ringing, heady tenor against the women's chorus provides a welcome textural change from the surrounding bombast. If you don't mind the balance problems, the full orchestral sound certainly gives you a good bang for not too many bucks.
JOANNE SYDNEY LESSNER
DIEPENBROCK: Songs I
with Alexander, van Nes; Prégardien, Holl; Jansen (piano). 1994. German texts only. NM Classics 92050
If, like me, you'd never even heard of the Dutch composer Alphons Diepenbrock (1862-1921), buy this disc and see if you're not hooked by the piano introduction of the very first selection, "Entsagung," from Diepenbrock's opus 1. The arresting and harmonically rich arpeggios movingly depict the narrator of Ludwig Uhland's verse, a harpist outside a castle tower, who laments the fact that the now-grown daughter of the house, with whom he shared his childhood, may now only socialize with men of her station. Other undiscovered treasures lie ahead, most dealing with (surprise) the intense longing associated with romantic love, in settings of Goethe, Heine, and Caroline von Günderode.
Tenor Christoph Prégardien gets to the heart of "Entsagung" and the two other songs comprising opus 1 with a sweet and direct soulfulness. Mezzo Jard van Nes and bass/baritone Robert Holl also provide emotionally convincing and musically sound renderings of distinctly lovely songs spanning a twenty-five year range. The music is less well-served by soprano Roberta Alexander, who only occasionally transcends a slight tremor in her voice that tends to center on the underside of the pitch. Pianist Rudolf Jansen handles the vividly-imagined but not always idiomatic piano parts with mastery. I would be interested to know exactly how much money NM Classics saved by providing two- or three-line summaries of each poem instead of full translations.
J.R.
STERNEFELD: Mater Dolorosa
Letorney, Van Deyck, Vandevelde, Haveman, Crommen; Sol; Flemish Radio Choir, Zeffiretti Choir of Antwerp, Royal Flanders Philharmonic Orchestra, Llewellyn. Text and translations. Marco Polo 8.225068-69 (2)
Daniel Sternefeld (1905-1986), the Belgian conductor, composed just a handful of works; Mater Dolorosa, his only opera, weaves its spell slowly but unmistakably. The story, Willem Gijssels' adaptation of a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, follows a mother whose ailing baby has fallen into Death's clutches. In her determined quest to wrest her child back into the land of the living, she confronts first Night, then the Water-Nymphs guarding the Realm of Death, and then Death himself.
Marie Terese Letorney as the Mother sings with consistency and just the right mix of agitation and determination; she gives the impression that, if it came to blows, Tom Sol, who sings the part of Death, would not be much of a match for her. (Sol, though he has a steady, clear baritone, neither overwhelms us with power, nor chills us with quiet calm.) Contralto Lucienne Van Deyck is effectively formidable and stern as Night. The two Water-Nymphs, Catherine Vandevelde and Barbara Haveman, do some lovely duet work together, even if complete technical security is slightly out of Vandevelde's reach during the extremely difficult runs of her opening solo. Els Crommen, who does the mother's spoken dialogue, is convincingly theatrical, but the effect is occasionally peculiar since she was obviously recorded separately and miked differently. The choruses are muffled and do not make much of a dramatic impact.
The Royal Flanders Philharmonic Orchestra does some marvelous playing under the sure baton of Conductor Grant Llewellyn. (Much of the drama, indeed, is contained in the fairly lengthy instrumental interludes--this, possibly, is why the piece never found success as a work for the stage.) The magnificent war-like march of the Second Vision, a long orchestral crescendo with a stunning impact similar to the final section of Debussy's Fêtes, is superbly done here.
Though ponderous in parts, Mater Dolorosa rewards patient attention. Taken as a whole, it is a powerful musical rendering of an endlessly sacrificing mother battling tirelessly with Death for the life of her child, and it cuts deeply.
J.R.
RECITAL Regina Klepper and Martina Borst
"DUETTE" Duets by Mendelssohn, Schumann and Reger. Deutsch, piano. Texts only. Capriccio 10 764
Soprano Regina Klepper and mezzo-soprano Martina Borst indeed exhibit a sisterly blend of tone color and excellently coordinated phrasing and diction in these charming duets. Klepper emerges as the dominant musical personality; Borst and pianist Helmut Deutsch are apparently content to follow her dynamics and inflections, but her instincts are quite good and the result is still an excellent ensemble. The evolution of the form is evident from Mendelssohn's lilting homophonic thirds, through Schumann's more contrapuntal approach, to the conversational trading of phrases in Reger's darker and more harmonically adventurous "Fünf Lieder". In fact, it is this last group, exquisitely rendered, which demonstrates why this parlor genre eventually found its home on the stage -- the advent of dissonance certainly made sight-reading around the piano more difficult for amateurs.
J.S.L.
Mária Tiboldi
"OPERETTA EXCERPTS" unidentified orchestras and conductors. No texts. Hungaraton HCD 16854
Soprano Mária Tiboldi is a longtime principal artist of the Budapest Operetta Theater, whose repertoire is devoted to classic operettas by Strauss, Lehár, Kálmán, etc., along with the more modern representatives of the genre, Broadway musicals included. The soprano's recital contains excerpts from Die Fledermaus, familiar Lehár (The Merry Widdow, Giuditta, Paganini) and Kálmán (Die Czárdásfürstin, Countess Maritza), and operetta standards by Millöcker, Stolz and Dostal. In her brief comments (given in German and Hungarian only) Tiboldi states her longtime affection for the more popular idiom and, accordingly, offers an engaging csárdás medley with gypsy band accompaniment, as well as such popular songs as "Ciribiribin," "Be My Love" and "Gloomy Sunday" (an international hit from the 1930's), all in Hungarian.
These are recordings produced over a period of time (stereo AAD) in different venues, but statisfactorily equalized. Tiboldi has a smallish but attractive voice, a cultivated style and respectable coloratura facility. Her renditions are unfailingly spirited and refreshingly idiomatic. The disc may not appeal to the widest audience, but is certainly designed to please those who respond to this genre.
GEORGE JELLINEK
Delphine Haidan
Songs and arias by Mozart, Schubert and R. Strauss. Waters, piano. No texts. Disques Festival d'Auvers-Sur-Oise FAE003
This recital disc is a disappointment, considering mezzo-soprano Delphine Haidan's reputation as young artist to watch in Europe, where she has won good notices as Cherubino and Nicklausse. She has a natural, easy charm and an attractive, well-produced voice but little of the stylistic command necessary to tackle a recital of this scope. The Mozart recitatives are bland and the arias earthbound, the Schubert lieder too studied and careful, the Strauss songs sweet but reticent.
F.P.D.
Ruth Ziesak
"MOZART OPERA ARIAS". Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, Creed. No texts or translations. Capriccio 10 824.
Soprano Ruth Ziesak is, in many ways, a persuasive Mozartean. Her musical choices are stylish and distinctive, her dramatic instincts true and unforced, and much of the time her voice shimmers delightfully. However, she alters her sound with alarming frequency. This can be an effective tool for characterization if it is for expressive rather than technical reasons, but Ziesak's changing tone seems less a display of natural colors than manipulated ones, and it can be disconcerting from note to note. In Fiordiligi's rangy "Per pietà", which warrants more weight than Ziesak's leggiero voice carries, she whitens her tone at the top and sinks heavily into the bottom, giving the impression that she's borrowing somebody else's vocal costume. She is at her best in the two alternate Susanna arias from Le Nozze di Figaro (fast becoming a staple of Mozart soprano collections), "Aer tranquillo" from Il Re Pastore, which exploits her facile coloratura more naturally, and a polished "Ach, ich fühl's". Marcus Creed leads the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin with a sensitivity to the sweetness of string tone and the roundness of phrases.
J.S.L.
HISTORICAL
BRUCKNER: Te Deum; Motets; Psalm 150
Stader, Wagner; Haefliger, Lagger; Chor der Deutschen Oper Berlin;
Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks; Berlin Philharmonic, Jochum. 1966, 1967, 1971. Text and translations. Deutsche Grammophon 457 743-2Eugen Jochum, well-known for his Bruckner interpretations, was the first conductor of international repute to champion the composer's sacred choral works; by 1972 he had recorded all of them. This collection, part of Deutsche Grammophon's "The Originals" series of digital transfers, features Jochum's third (and, we are assured, his best) recording of the Te Deum. Symphonic in its conception, exuberant yet dignified in its religious fervor, the piece provides an excellent display of Jochum's ability to reconcile Bruckner's Wagnerian-influenced Dionysian yearnings with his inbred, ascetically religious purity. The soloists blend effectively and sing especially sensitively in response to the lovely solo violin that occasionally accompanies them. The Chor der Deutschen Oper Berlin is mostly unintelligible, but their massed ensemble sound is impressive at climaxes, and the re-mastering process clearly has been perfected.
Ten selected motets follow the Te Deum, and these, alas, are not very good performances. The choral sound (here, the Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks) is muddy and unblended in these mostly a capella miniatures, and very few of the chords have the satisfying ring of perfect intonation. If you want to get to know these pleasingly modest but occasionally surprising pieces, I would suggest looking elsewhere. The catalogue lists several collections -- Naxos offers a budget-priced set of fifteen of them, cleanly and expertly sung by Robert Jones' Choir of St. Bride's Church. It's probably safe to say, however, that were it not for Jochum's trail-blazing efforts, these motets would still be, as the notes put it, the province of "obscure German chorus masters."
Psalm 150, Bruckner's last large-scale choral work, returns to the grandly Romantic style of the Te Deum. Soprano Maria Stader, shown to better advantage in the earlier piece, appears briefly and not entirely successfully here (it is, admittedly, a vocally ungrateful passage), but the chorus (the Chor der Deutschen Oper Berlin again) is more vital and articulate than they were in the Te Deum, and the Berlin Philharmonic plays warmly and glowingly, here and throughout.
J.R.
"SOPRANOS IN THE GRAND TRADITION"
Arias. With Zamboni, Pampanini, dal Monte, Cigna, Tassinari, Caniglia, Steber, Welitsch, Carosio, Scuderi, Flagstad, Jurinac, Schwarzkopf, Noni, Rysanek and Hammond. Various conductors and orchestras. No texts or translations. EMI Classics 67179
The artists included on this soprano compilation disc are all distinguished interpreters, but the tracks of greatest interest are those devoted to Italian singers of the inter-war years, most of them infrequently included on programs of this sort. The eerie, erotic charm of Margherita Carosio ("O quante volte"), the volatile charisma of Maria Caniglia ("Vissi d'arte"), the heartbreaking poise of Sara Scuderi ("Donde lieta uscì") and the pearly sweetness of Toti dal Monte ("Ah, non credea mirarti") were rare treasures in their glory days; they repay close attention in ours.
ESTHER WADE
OPERA NEWS, December 1999 Copyright © 1999 The Metropolitan Opera Guild, Inc.
A SAINT FOR THE AGES
Kent Nagano leads José van Dam and
Dawn Upshaw in Messiaen's
luminous Saint François d'Assise.
OPERA NEWS
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