ORFF Ein Sommernachtstraum • Christian von Gehren, cond; actors; Andechs Fest Ch; Munich Youth O; Munich Radio O Andechs ORFF Academy • CPO 777 657 (146:09) Live: Andechs 7/28–30/2010


Carl Orff’s incidental music for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream grew out of the desire of the National Socialists—generally, but here specifically Frankfurt’s anti-Semitic Lord Mayor Friedrich Krebs—to produce an appropriately Aryan accompaniment to the play as replacement for the now inconveniently “Jewish” musical additions of Felix Mendelssohn. Orff, even as his scenic cantata Carmina burana was gaining popular acclaim in the new Germany, was concerned with his politically dubious reputation as a modernist and consorter with leftists during the Weimar years. So he took the commission despite warnings from his pragmatic publisher that he would never be able to “dispatch Mendelssohn.” In fairness, his interest in the Elizabethan comedy was real; he had been working on such incidental music since 1917. No doubt he also found the sizable advance attractive. But what had been politically expedient in 1938—he prospered during the Third Reich—was to haunt him after the war, however facile his explanations, and at the least diminishes any pleasure one might have in hearing what he has to offer.


Or maybe not. The audience certainly seems to enjoy this production from the 2010 Orff in Andechs Festival. It will be rougher going for anyone lacking fluent German. Though the story is well known, and the alert listener will be able to figure out what is happening some of the time, there is no text, translation, or synopsis, a serious failing shared with cpo’s other recording from this festival, the Orff/Monteverdi Orpheus . My admiration goes out to anyone who, textless, can happily attend for more than two hours and 20 minutes to heavily edited Shakespeare in German, with attractively dreamlike but inconsequential and repetitive music cues that cannot even be appreciated in context of the words they are to amplify.


Cynicism aside, one is left wondering what Orff did to earn his substantial commission. Many of the handful of independent pieces are adaptations of other compositions: The prelude is from Carmina burana (“Si puer cum puellula”) transformed into a fanfare, used again in full as a replacement for the wedding march. The Rustics are introduced (in this version of 1964) with music from the 1943 fairy tale opera Die Kluge, which, in this context, jars with its banality. Annotator Thomas Rösch suggests other sources: Carmina burana again (“Chramer, gip die varwe mir”) for Titania’s lullaby, and an allusion to the act II duet for Octavian and Sophie from Der Rosenkavalier for the moonrise scene. I suppose one could make a game out of identifying the remaining borrowed themes, but I’ll leave that to others.


There are magical moments; the playing of the trumpet to the moon has the same charm as the ending of Der Mond , the prelude to the ninth scene in Theseus’ palace recalls moments of repose in the famous cantata, and the wonderful midnight melodrama (though I would have wanted Puck’s speeches done less malevolently) and finale (name that source!) provide a fitting end. Would that it all had been so engaging. The youth orchestras, and the chorus in its brief outings, are able; the recording clear for those for whom German is not an obstacle. The birds chirping in the forest are a nice touch. In any case, though my curiosity has been only partly satisfied, at least now, thanks to cpo, the historical footnote is made tangible. You might want to check the samples online before buying. And find a translation.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

DONIZETTI Marino Faliero • Bruno Cinquegrani, cond; Giorgio Surian ( Marino Faliero ); Rachele Stanisci ( Elena ); Ivan Magri ( Fernando); Luca Grassi ( Israele ); Luca Dall’Amico ( Steno ); Domenico Menini ( Gondolier); Bergamo Music Fest Gaetano Donizetti O & Ch • NAXOS 8.660303-04 (2 CDs: 144:24) Live: Bergamo 2008


Composing the score for Marino Faliero was an important project for Gaetano Donizetti in late 1834 because for the first time he had received a commission to create a work for Parisian audiences. Paris in those years was the glamorous opera capital of the Western world; to work there meant the real possibility of great fame and much fatter purses. The commission had come from expatriate Gioachino Rossini’s Théâtre Italien, then a thriving Paris showcase for new Italian opera works in their original language. Because of previous commitments, Donizetti was forced to work on his score in Italy. When he finally arrived in Paris he was induced to make major revisions to what he had already written, whether at the behest of Rossini or because he felt the opera inadequate to please Parisian tastes in its original state, we do not know; perhaps some of both.


Donizetti’s new work was to be blessed with the participation of four of the best singers then performing, including soprano Giulia Grissi and tenor Giovanni Battista Rubini, but also cursed with the ill fortune of appearing in the theater directly after I Puritani , the highly regarded new work of Vincenzo Bellini, both at the March 12, 1835, premiere in Paris and later that year at its London premiere with the same singers. Operagoers in both cities picked favorites, and I Puritani won out. The famous singing foursome was dubbed the “I Puritani Quartet,” not the “Faliero Quartet.”


I am certainly not familiar with all the 65 or so librettos Donizetti set or partially set to music; very few people are. I have heard and read enough of them, however, to know even though the story is based on a work by Lord Byron, Marino Faliero probably doesn’t rank in the top 20. The story is of Faliero, the 55th Doge of Venice, already the titular head of the citizen government of the 14th-century city-state. Feeling disrespected by the ruling Council of 40 for not pursuing stiffer penalties against his political enemies and others who are bandying his wife’s name about as an adulteress, Faliero joins a conspiracy against the ruling elite and declares himself Prince of Venice. The uprising fails and Faliero is imprisoned. To add insult to injury his wife, Elena, informs the Doge before his execution that the rumors are true, she has been unfaithful with his tenor nephew Fernando, who had been killed off in act II. The Doge is initially angry, but comes to a better state and forgives Fernando and his wife before going off to the block. The Dogaressa, bereft of both lover and husband, will hie to a nunnery. So, what’s not to like here? A cheating wife who precipitates the death of her young lover? A political leader not content with his own power who acts foolishly and treacherously on spurious reasoning? Who can’t get into that? Donizetti mitigates the infelicities of the libretto to some extent with very good, if not great, music. He does not match the level of inspiration Bellini achieves in I Puritani , but this work is not chopped liver, either.


The singing on this recording is generally quite good. The vocalists understand the need to ornament repeat passages, especially in Donizetti’s cabalettas, and do so with varying degrees of success. Young tenor Ivan Magri and young soprano Rachele Stanisci perform the best, although as Fernando, Magri is killed in act II, and Stanisci, as Elena, does not appear in act II at all. Magri can go a bit flat at times, but both voices handle the bel canto style and soar when necessary. Both hold the potential of good careers to come. Baritone Luca Grassi competently sings the substantial role of Israele, leader of the conspirators. The disappointment in the pack is the singing of Giorgio Surian as the Doge, Faliero. Surian has developed a wide vibrato; some would call it a flutter or incipient wobble. That makes him difficult to listen to for long and spoils some of the ensemble pieces as well. There is also very little separation in tonal quality between bass and baritone in their several numbers together. The partly student Bergamo Festival Donizetti Orchestra plays surprisingly well and supports the singers in excellent fashion under the baton of bel canto specialist Bruno Cinquegrani. The chorus is a bit ragged at times; it sounds like they need more rehearsal time.


To my knowledge, this Naxos CD release (and its DVD counterpart) is only the fifth recording of Marino Faliero. The modern-era revival in Bergamo in 1966 was captured live and issued on Melodram LPs with some locally known singers (I don’t believe this recording ever made it to CD). In 1977 a live production for RAI Turin featured possibly the best Faliero in bass, Cesare Siepi. He is accompanied by the well-sung Israele of Lucinio Montefusco, the Elena of Marisa Galvany, and the Fernando of Giuliano Cianella, the last two of which lack any clue about bel canto style. In addition, the tenor ducks high notes throughout and more than one number is transposed to a lower key. This set is still available in quite good mono sound on Myto and Bongiovanni. A 1999 release from Hungary on the Agora label, which I have not heard, apparently suffers from a badly inadequate tenor. There is a Hardy DVD filmed in Parma in 2002 with some major voices, including Rockwell Blake as Fernando, Mariella Devia as Elena, and Michele Pertusi as the Doge, which is arguably better than the current set, although it too has some problems. Devia is not really a bel canto type either, and by 1992 Blake’s voice was distinctly unlovely, although he still retained his excellent mastery of Donizetti style.


The Naxos booklet contains an article about the opera, a synopsis keyed to the track listing, and short bios of key performers. An Italian-only libretto is available on the website. The stereo sound is excellent; the enthusiastic audience does not intrude on the performances. Marino Faliero is a pretty good opera still wanting a definitive recording. Those who want to see it might opt for the 2002 Hardy DVD or the Naxos release of the current set. This quite substantial and inexpensive CD edition can fill in quite well on the shelf while we wait and hope.


FANFARE: Bill White

William Vincent Wallace may not be a household name to today’s music-lovers but from 1845 until the end of the 19th century he was very popular as an operatic composer. He is not completely forgotten, however, and I knew at least an excerpt from his first opera, Maritana, from a Joan Sutherland record. On Marco Polo there is also a complete recording of the opera. Excerpts from Maritana coupled with music from a couple of other roughly contemporaneous British operas are available on EMI and on the Australian label Melba Deborah Riedel sings several Wallace arias plus others by Balfe, Faraday and Sullivan. Ms Riedel was scheduled to sing the role of Ghiva on the present recording of Lurline but died before the project could be carried through. The recording is dedicated to her memory.

The libretto is based on the legend of Lorelei, the 132 metre high rock on the eastern bank of the Rhine. In Heine’s poem Die Lore-Ley a kind of siren sings from the outcrop and distracts shipmen so that they crash into the rock. In this opera she falls in love with a human being, a young nobleman. When the River King hears this he knows that this will lead to her death. How the story ends I won’t reveal, which is a sneaky way of forcing readers to buy these two discs to find out.

And it is worth the moderate costs, since the music is wholly agreeable and the singing and playing, despite some blemishes, on a quite high level. The performing edition is by Richard Bonynge, who has done great things in dusting off long-forgotten operas and giving them a new lease of life. One can at once in the long overture hear that Wallace was a skilled orchestrator. The opening is an atmospheric description of a moonlit night on the Rhine, but the music becomes both lively and dramatic. When the imaginary curtain rises we are exposed once more to a serene and beautiful orchestral introduction, which is also woven into the recitative that follows and sung at the end before the aria.

So what does the music sound like? The easiest way of describing it is to see it as a forerunner of Sullivan. In a blindfold test I am sure many listeners would believe some of the melodies to be from one of the Savoy operas. Ingratiating and easy to hum they could comfortably command a place in any programme of light opera and operetta. What is missing is perhaps the tongue-in-cheek quality of some of Sullivan’s best creations and the glint in the eye. On the other hand the story doesn’t exactly cry out for such qualities. There are also several rousing choruses that remind me of G&S and the act finales are skilfully structured to rise to slap-up climaxes. In particular it is in the second act that Wallace’s inspiration flows at its richest. Take the opening chorus (CD 1 tr. 19) or the Sullivanesque Chorus From his Palace of Crystal (CD 1 tr. 22). Rupert’s aria Sweet form (CD 1 tr. 23) is lovely and somewhat later Ghiva’s song Gentle Troubadour (CD 2 tr. 2 is catchy. Rhineberg’s The nectar cup may yield delight in ¾ time (CD 2 tr. 5) is another hit. No wonder it was such a success in the 1860s.

Act III also has several highlights. Rupert’s ballad (CD 2 tr. 13) again recalls G&S and Lurline’s Grand Scena (CD 2 tr. 18) should be a dream number for any high soprano. The prayer, in particular, is noble and beautiful. The final scene opens with a riveting chorus (CD 2 tr. 22) followed by a long duet between Rupert and Lurline. In the ensemble that concludes the opera Lurline returns to her opening solo in act I but now heavily embellished.

Sally Silver in the title role has a bright lyrical voice, sailing effortlessly up in the highest reaches of the soprano register. She negotiates the coloratura passages with supreme ease. Hers is a most sensitive reading of a role that is both other-worldly and deeply human. Veteran Keith Lewis, best known perhaps as a stylish Mozart singer, makes the most of Rupert’s role, nuanced and sensitive, but today his beautiful voice is afflicted by a disfiguring wobble on sustained notes. This is, however, compensated for by his ravishing pianissimo singing. The end of his air (CD 1 tr. 23) is excellent proof of his ability. David Soar is a powerful and intense Rhineberg but slightly strained at times. Donald Maxwell, another veteran, is a splendid Baron Truenfels and even better is Roderick Earle as the Gnome. Try CD 1 tr. 27 for proof. Fiona Janes is a vibrant and expressive Ghiva. The orchestral and choral forces are splendid under Richard Bonynge’s experienced leadership.

There is a synopsis in the booklet but the libretto - including the original stage directions shown in the 1860 libretto - can be bought separately.

Victorian Opera Northwest, which ‘was formed to promote the excellent music found in the operas and operettas of forgotten 19th Century British and Irish composers has certainly lived up to their aim. Together with Naxos they have enriched the operatic CD-catalogue. Maybe not a dramatic masterpiece but all lovers of 19th century opera, and lovers of good melodies should hasten to add this set to their collections.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Today Don Carlos is performed in French as it is in Italian. Different productions and recordings vary considerably, however, as regards the choice of scenes and music. The extent of the original material is such that directors, drama tourists and conductors tend to stage the work in a highly individualistic manner.

With it's plot derived from Arthurian legend, Tristan und Isolde is considered by many to be the most harmonically daring and overtly sensual of the composer's operas. From the famous opening 'Tristan chord' of the Prelude, repeated at key points in the drama, to it's over-powering harmonic resolution at the end of the Liebestod (Love-Death), the opera is remarkable for the hypnotic power, physical longing and intense human emotion sustained over more than three years.

Comprising four separate operas, Wagner's visionary Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring of the Nibelung) took 25 years to complete. Centred around a ring of power and the attempts of various people to acquire it, the Ring cycle explores the relationship between love and earthly power and the themes of yearning and loss, all within a setting of medieval legend. The prologue Das Rheingold deals with the theft and subsequent surrender of the ring forged from the Rhinegold by the Nibelung dwarf Alberich.