Classical Music

Classical Music

"Berglund proves himself a thorough-going Straussian with his whiplash interpretation of Don Juan, one of the best of the many recent versions. . . . The performance of Till is splendidly lively, with crisp woodwind playing. . . . There have been several good performances of the Burleske in recent years and this one by the young Russian pianist Sergei Edelmann is dazzling in its virtuosity and high spirits. . . . An attractive disc." -- Gramophone

Includes opera(s): aria(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Bavarian State Orchestra. Conductors: Karl Böhm, Carlos Kleiber.

Stein's is a splendid interpretation, more physical than Haitink's but coming near to it in the second half of the symphony especially where a spiritual darkness enters the music in such episodes as ''Mists arise'', ''The sun gradually disappears'' and ''Elegy''.

It is also the most graphic recording yet to appear of Strauss's astonishing orchestration in this work. Without the kind of close-focus zooming-in on a group of instruments which mars Karajan's last Strauss recordings, we hear the staccato and glissando strings in the ''Waterfall'' section as never before the cascade is there before our eyes, even though we see it through our ears. As for the ''Storm'', the wind-machine is a particularly good example of its notoriously tricky kind, and the impression of blinding, lashing rain is extraordinary. I listened to it first on a stiflingly hot summer night, and I nearly ran from my chair for shelter! The Bambergers are a splendid orchestra today, as I heard in Munich last year when they played in Strauss's Intermezzo, and although on occasions the strings lack the sheer richness of the Amsterdam orchestra's, there is always an incisiveness to their playing that is compensation enough. The brass section is superb in all departments. For some reason, Stein's interpretation of the opening of the work brought home to me very forcefully how strongly it is inspired by the opening of Das Rheingold A fine effort. If you don't possess an Alpine and want to, you won't be disappointed if you make this your choice.'

Gramophone, 9/1989

Classical Music

Not many masterpieces have premiered at the Vienna State Opera. Die Frau ohne Schatten – the fourth collaboration between Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannsthal – make one of the few exceptions. On the evening of 25 May 2019 – the 150th anniversary of the opening of the Vienna State Opera – a star-studded festival première of Richard Strauss’ Die Frau ohne Schatten took place at Vienna State Opera. Together with his librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Strauss, at the time director of the opera house, developed a fairytale, complex and psychologically discriminating work that received its world première a hundred years ago, on 10 October 1919 at the opera house on the Ring. Since then, Die Frau ohne Schatten has enjoyed a rich performance history and is regarded as a special highlight of Viennese and international music theatre.

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REVIEWS:

This performance, though impressively sung/acted, probably will be most lauded for its conducting and the ravishingly beautiful playing of the Vienna forces under the absolute control of Christian Thielemann. Aficionados may balk at Thielemann’s approach from the beginning of the opera. The three opening chords are invariably played as a punch to the gut; Thielemann lets us clearly hear the nasty, threatening snarl they produce–low-pitched instruments piled one atop the other. This is a hint of the menace to come, not the menace itself. But lest you feel that Thielemann is going to conduct this opera’s subtext and not its ferocity, when it actually comes time to release the hounds, he offers a maelstrom: the voyage from the Royal Realm down to earth is rambunctious and raucous, and the cataclysm when the Nurse is punished is unforgettable. As Strauss’ only sustained, thoroughly atonal moment, it had better pack a wallop and it does.

After the Nurse loses to Keikobad, we find ourselves back in the heavenly realm, where we first met the Emperor, with glissandos from the violins and a palpable sheen. The gorgeous tune on the cello with violin and celesta in Scene 1 remains in the memory, and the falcon’s cry from the woodwind, so often ugly and nagging, is filled with longing and sadness. And if the ravishing orchestral interlude as Barak and his wife can’t find the words they want doesn’t melt you, well, it’s neither Strauss’ nor Thielemann’s fault. This is delicate music making, and when the three or four perorations the opera has to offer come, they blow the listener’s head off.

Say what you will about the three sopranos and their recorded counterparts, but Camilla Nylund, Evelyn Herlitzius, and Nina Stemme actually sound like the characters they’re portraying. Yes, each has some sore patches above the staff, but come on, just listen to those roles, performed complete, in a live performance!

But Nylund’s Empress has it all. From her graceful, girlish entrance–high staccato D and all–we follow her through the “why not take someone else’s shadow” journey to an unspoiled, empathetic woman of the final pages. She moves from brittle to valiant through a series of overheard moments that change her outlook, and we follow each stage with fascination. Her terrifying confusion before “Ich…will…nicht” is as alarming as the music right after it is welcoming and forgiving. No, she will not make you forget Rysanek, but her arc, and particularly the vocalism in Act 3, is breathtaking.

Herlitzius clearly has not escaped the damage that can be wrought after many, many Elektras, but her total commitment, bright, nasty sound, and way with the text–an audible snarl is a very special tool–more than makes up for a few shrill high notes. Strauss wanted a mezzo, and Herlitzius is not a mezzo; some darkness in mid and bottom voice is missing. But boy is she hateful, an ideal contrast to the Empress’ essential goodness.

The Dyer’s wife may be the heaviest role of all and it is often filled by Wagnerian sopranos–Birgit Nilsson’s laser voice comes to mind. Nina Stemme is more than up to the part. She has been much lauded for her other roles; I have always found her vocally fine but detached at times. Here she is terrific, bringing out not only the Wife’s horrifying lifetime disappointments, but drawing up the warmth and understanding for her reconciliation with the splendid Wolfgang Koch’s Dyer. Their third-act duet makes you realize what happens when honest love has been momentarily poisoned but is, happily, restored. And again, it helps to have Thielemann’s warm understanding of the score’s humanity.

Stephen Gould’s tenor is problematic, but then again so is the role of the Emperor. He has three static scenes and he sings them well enough–not eclipsing James King or Torsten Ralf on any level–but he lacks the royal dignity of the best, and one realizes that all the notes are not quite enough. Sebastian Holecek’s Messenger is scary and finely focused. Others– the falcon, the young man, etc.– are cast from strength.

– ClassicsToday (Robert Levine)

The clearly best performance comes from Nina Stemme in the role of the Dyer. Camilla Nylund sings with a genuinely beautiful and colourful voice and gives the Empress a strong character. In the role of the Emperor, Stephen Gould impresses with a slender, mostly confident tenor voice. Wolfgang Koch’s Barak shows himself to be a perfect Strauss singer, both dramatically and vocally. Christian Thielemann’s conducting is phenomenal, and under his direction the orchestra of the Vienna State Opera blossoms into a top Strauss orchestra.

– Pizzicato

Classical Music

This recording is now available as RCA Victrola 60135-2-RV.

STRAUSS: EIN HELDENLEBEN, DON

Classical Music

Classical Music

One of the most popular symphonic poems by Richard Strauss -actually one of the most famous tone poems ever -is his "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" op. 30, from 1896. The distinctive theme, followed by timpani blows and powerful, surging chords in the brass, was well-known long before it was used for a film score (Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey"). Fifty years ago, this work went far beyond the limits of classical music -and is now familiar to all. The cumbersome title, along with the fact that the composition tackles Friedrich Nietzsche's eponymous poetic and philosophical work may even have initially hampered its overwhelming popularity. Nietzsche himself fittingly commented: "To which genre does this 'Zarathustra' belong, I wonder? I am rather inclined to think it is 'symphonies'. "Strauss’s "Burleske" for Piano and Orchestra sounds completely different. It was composed a decade earlier in 1885/86, when the 21-year-old composer had just begun his first job as Capellmeister of the Meiningen Court Orchestra and as the assistant of Hans von Bülow. Originally referred to as "Scherzo" (Strauss also called it a "piano concerto" ina letter to his mother), the work was dedicated to Strauss’s mentor, Bülow. It was first performed in Eisenach in 1890 by the piano soloist Eugen d'Albert. The themes are cheerful and "burlesque", and the solo instrument and the orchestra perform together in the best sense. The music shows us Strauss in an early phase –he had not yet linked his compositional technique to that of Liszt and Wagner. In the year the work was premiered, Strauss himself referred to the "Burleske" as a work that "he had left far behind him". Only rarely performed for many years, the work regained popularity over the past two decades, thanks not least to Glenn Gould.

Monika Abel is a versatile soprano, and her great passion is classical singing. Together with pianist Kathrin Isabelle Klein she creates and presents a distinctive repertoire in which she juxtaposes works from the Romantic period and classical modernism alongside pieces of contemporary music. Her debut album 'Zwischen Himmel und Erde' (Between Heaven and Earth) is also a project close to her heart, a work that emphasises her preference for 20th-century music and which is particularly suited to her warm, lyrical voice.

The three works in this programme reflect different aspects of Strauss's compositional life. The tone-poem MacBeth, written between 1888 and 1891, offers a grippingly taut narrative. The Dance of the Seven Veils from the 1905 opera Salome is one of it's most exciting and intoxicating moments. Towards the end of his life, facing the ruin wrought by World War II, Strauss took inspiration from Goethe and wrote Metamorphosen, one of the most moving of all twentieth-century works.