Jazz
Bill Berry
23 products
Strauss: Ariadne Auf Naxos / Bohm, Kunz, Berry, Baltsa, Janowitz, Gruberova
Wagner: Lohengrin / Bohm, Watson, Thomas, Ludwig, Wachter

A remarkable record of a live performance, capturing a collection of Wagner greats and a few surprises.
This disc captures, unadulterated and unadorned, the opening night of a new production of Lohengrin at the Vienna Staatsoper. One glance down the cast-list will tell you that this is something special. It must have been even more special to have been in the theatre, for not only was Karl Böhm in the pit but Wieland Wagner himself was directing the staging, something illustrated generously in the accompanying booklet. The sound, recorded for broadcast by Austrian Radio, is in mono, which is undeniably regrettable, but it’s surprisingly good for its age. The only place where it brings real losses is in the chorus scenes, which are many in this opera. The natural point of comparison for this set is Kempe’s classic set, which shares the same orchestra, the same Lohengrin and the same Ortrud, and was recorded two years previously. The comparisons are fascinating.
The most interesting contrast, and the factor which impels this release, is the conducting of Karl Böhm. Where Kempe is rapt, Böhm is driven. Like his live Ring and Tristan from Bayreuth, he prefers fast tempi, and this drives the drama along at an exciting pace. You can tell that when you compare the timings: Böhm is more than 20 minutes faster than Kempe. In fact he achieves the feat of making this one of the very few Lohengrins on disc (perhaps the only one?) to fit each act complete onto a single CD. Yet Böhm never feels unduly rushed. Instead, the strength of his vision convinces the listener that this is an entirely appropriate view of the piece. Furthermore, he knows how to relax when he needs to, and he does so liberally, particularly for the Grail music. The Act 1 Prelude is markedly slower than what follows it. He broadens out the soundscape after Lohengrin’s arrival in the middle of the act, the excitement of the crowd giving way to a gently meditative first utterance from the knight.
That first utterance is, in fact, something pretty special. Jess Thomas is on top notch form here and he sounds sensational in his farewell to the swan in the first act, as in his declaration of love for Elsa. He is, perhaps, a little anonymous in the second act, but he is moving and remarkably sympathetic in the bridal chamber scene. In fernem Land, similarly slowed down by Böhm, unfolds at an unhurried pace and in one single-minded direction. He was an extraordinary swan knight for Kempe, and it’s exciting to hear him in the live context here. Claire Watson is also on her very finest form as Elsa. There is clarity and purity to her voice that, to my ears at least, comes close to making her the equal of Elisabeth Grümmer - high praise indeed. She is helpless and vulnerable in the first act but brims over with optimism at the start of the second, and her address to the breezes is a delight. Perhaps you don’t get quite the same sense of impending doom in the bridal chamber scene, but she summons up the correct sense of terror as that scene reaches its climax and she is full of pathos in her sense of loss in the final scene.
Kempe’s set gave us the finest Ortrud on disc in Christa Ludwig, and she is every bit as sensational here. If anything, the live event inspires her to give of herself with even more commitment. The dramatic temperature of the whole set rises when she enters at the start of Act 2. There is something darkly insidious in her vocal presence, and the way she seems to pour scorn on her husband is magnificently dramatic. She then inveigles her way into Elsa’s confidence with the skill of the greatest of con artists, and the power of her invocation at Entweihte Götter! is so great that it brings the house down, forcing Böhm to halt proceedings for about twenty seconds. She then chews up the scenery in the great crowd scene at the end of Act 2 and manages a wonderful groan of defeat when the swan is revealed as Gottfried at the very end of the opera. Her husband both on and off the stage, Walter Berry, isn’t quite the match for Fischer-Dieskau either in vocal beauty or in acting - he sounds overly gruff in the first act - but he rises to a climax at the start of Act 2 and is never less than a convincing stage presence. It’s a real treat having Martti Talvela as the King, his rich, fruity bass giving the part an extra level of character that it doesn’t always get. Eberhard Wächter is luxury casting as the Herald.
I doubt that anyone will take this as a top choice, especially not over any stereo sets, because sound quality is important in this opera. However, it’s a remarkable record of a live performance, capturing a collection of Wagner greats and a few surprises, and it will be especially interesting for anyone who knows and loves the Kempe set.
Incidentally, this whole production was double cast. The other cast that alternated with this one included the likes of James King, Gustav Neidlinger and Astrid Varnay. Having not one but two such legendary casts available for one opera in the same city seems like an extravagant dream to us nowadays, but what fun to dream it!
-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International
Whitbourn: Luminosity / Gillett, Andrade, Berry, Commotio
There are of course many different kinds of light, but on its own the single word evokes something bright, pure, clear. These are words which can equally well be applied to James Whitbourn’s music. His writing is simple and straightforward (especially harmonically), and not outwardly virtuosic; his use of texture (often under-appreciated as a musical value) is also simple, but beguiling. The choir often sings homophonically (all voice parts moving in the same rhythm, as in a hymn), which implies a clarity of communication. But with a few sure strokes—the addition of a single element, such as the solo voice in the Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis, and A Prayer of Desmond Tutu, or the use of percussion in the same works, or the tanpura and the cunningly Eastern-sounding viola in Luminosity, he can simultaneously evoke different, non-Western traditions, and thereby multiply the allusions.
-- Bernard Robertson
Bach: St. John Passion
Leonie Rysanek (Wiener Staatsoper Live)
Christa Ludwig
Berg: Wozzeck / Berry, Strauss, Boulez
-- Gramophone [2/1967, reviewing the LP release]
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Berry [is] perhaps the best Wozzeck on record... [Boulez] is very good at nail-biting suspense and lucid clarification of complex textures...
-- Gramophone [2/1989]
Schmidt: Das Buch mit sieben Siegeln / Mitropoulos, Dermota, Gueden, Wunderlich, Berry
I have been seeking out broadcasts and recordings of this oratorio ever since, 20 or so years ago, I first began to suspect that it was a masterpiece. Many of those performances were so dreadful that I began to wonder whether I'd been quite wrong about the work but this, by a long way the finest reading of Das Buch mit sieben Siegeln ("The Book with seven seals") that I have ever heard, triumphantly vindicates it.
Franz Schmidt's oratorio combines learned, Bruckner-like contrapuntal artifice (which in a bad performance can sound crabbed and boring) with a vivid sense of drama that at times recalls the naive peasant baroque of some Austrian and South German carved altarpieces (and can in a bad performance sound merely naive), at others the horrific realism of Matthias Grünewald. As a composer himself and a man of deep religious conviction Mitropoulos responded to both these aspects, and such haunting passages as the duet for two survivors of the pestilence and death spread by the horsemen of the Apocalypse, or the tremendous earthquake chorus that follows the breaking of the seventh seal have a powerful sense of drama which is emphasized by Mitropoulos's precise care for contrapuntal and instrumental detail. Yes, in this live performance there are a few untidinesses (the rushing violin passages in the gipsy "Hallelujah", not altogether unexpectedly - they are hideously difficult) but the impact and the devout urgency of the reading are not in the least diminished by them.
In the hugely taxing central role of St John, Dermota is deeply impressive. Although the part is often given to a dramatic tenor it responds to a lyric voice that is capable at times of ringing fullness. Dermota matches Mitropoulos's urgency, and clearly means every word of the role. At one point, where a descending vocal line illustrates the text's reference to the four beasts and the elders falling down before the Lamb, it is obvious that the bottom note of the phrase is not within his range. Instead, quietly and reverently, he speaks it, and the expressive effect of this is characteristic of his whole performance. The other soloists, Gueden and Berry especially, are distinguished, and both chorus and orchestra audibly respond to Mitropoulos's conviction.
The mono recording is a little constricted at times, with patches of acid string tone, but it improves and gains impact as it proceeds. Das Buch mit sieben Siegeln still has the reputation of a piece that the Austrians regard as a classic but which doesn't travel. This recording refutes that view with inspiriting eloquence.
-- Gramophone [3/1996]
Requiem Mass In D Minor K. 626
Egk: Irische Legende (Live)
Beethoven: Fidelio / Karajan, Vienna Philharmonic
Bach: Christmas Oratorio / Grossmann, Roon, Et Al
SMITH, Bessie: I've Got What It Takes (1929-1933)
Wilhelm Kienzl: Der Kuhreigen
Cornish: Into Silence / Various
Time, silence, light, reflection and transcendence are all explored in Jane Antonia Cornish's new album, Into Silence. A breathless fragility on the precipice of liminal space imbues the album's six over-arching linear meditations; each work an inquiry into the transitory beauty of the unknown, through self-reflection and the conscious reorientation of perspective. These hallmarks of Cornish's aesthetic experience, along with the exquisitely balanced unfolding of her material, all contribute to a highly expressive and brave musical narrative that is unafraid, and, once heard, cannot be unheard. The six works featured here are not only unified conceptually, but also through their instrumentation; each features a subset of an aggregate ensemble of violin, piano, four cellos, and electronics. Throughout, Cornish brilliantly uses a carefully planned unveiling of instrumental sonorities to actuate and propel the over-arching design of the album's broader narrative. Memory of Time explores a distant nocturnal pathos as the solo violin's expressive presence floats, suspended, over the cello ensemble's irrevocable sighs. The titular Into Silence I incorporates piano and electronics into the sonic tableaux of the proceeding work, reorienting the seemingly unappesed yearning of the introductory material with a tender earthbound comfort. Scattered Light, scored for cello alone, expounds an unbridled moment of cadenza-like virtuosity. As the harmonic rhythm increases and intensifies the work concludes in an evaporated calmness. Elegia returns to the sound-world and material of the album's opening work, now examiend through the aperture of elegiac reflexivity. A meditation on solitude, Into Silence II, for piano solo, probes some of the album's most inner-directed moments of isolation. Luminescence is a culmination of the entire album's exploration of liminality. The electronic component returns with an exquisite and arresting subtly of hushed empyrean filigree. A solo cello momentarily transforms the sighing motif of the opening into a hopeful upward reach towards transcendence. The work ends in deliquesce silence, and the album concludes with a return of the opening motif, exemplifying the elegant notion that silence is the path to transformation.
A Celebration of Faith in His Name: The Coming of Christ
A Celebration of Faith in His Name: I Am with You
Meyerbeer: Les Huguenots (Sung in German)
Dvorák: Der Jakobiner
A Celebration of Faith in His Name: The Beloved Son
Kallstrom: Flute Chamber Works, Vol. 2
J.S. Bach: Matthäuspassion, BWV 244
