A far from negligible reading of an attractive opera.

It is not every year, probably not even every decade, that we get an opportunity to see or hear an opera by Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari. On an early Naxos disc (8.550240) with opera overtures and intermezzi there is music from what are probably his best known works: Il segreto di Susanna and I Gioielli della Madonna. The first mentioned, a one act comedy premiered in 1909, has been recorded a number of times: by Cetra in the 1950s with baritone Giuseppe Valdengo, by Decca in the 1970s with Maria Chiara and Bernd Weikl and somewhat later by CBS with Renata Scotto and Renato Bruson. There may be others but not to my knowledge.

Wolf-Ferrari was born in Venice to a German father and an Italian mother. He first studied art to follow in his father’s footsteps. Rather soon he realised that he wanted to be a musician. He went to Munich where he studied with Joseph Rheinberger and even then he had a special sympathy for opera, having seen works by Rossini and Wagner. In 1895 he saw Verdi’s Falstaff in Milan, less than three years after its premiere. There he was also introduced to the composer. It is the parlando style of this opera that has influenced his own works, at least La vedova scaltra. As in Falstaff there is little room for extended arias but the parlando is often condensed into arioso and aria sections with some melodically attractive themes. The music is hardly offensive, no jarring dissonances, and since there are some characters of different nationalities there is also some references to the music of the nations, where especially the Spanish flavour is well caught. The orchestra is skilfully employed in an often chamber music-like transparency with ample scope for instrumental solos. There is a lot to admire, including the only strict solo song, Rosaura’s song in act II about two separated lovers. Il Conte has a beautiful solo (CD 2 tr. 1), accompanied by plucked strings. There is a scintillating chorus that opens the last scene of the opera. As a kind of Leitmotif there is a waltz, that follows the heroine Rosaura, from her first appearance in scene 2 of the first act until the very end of the opera.

No less than five of Wolf-Ferrari´s operas are based on plays by the prolific Venetian playwright Carlo Goldoni (1707–1793), including La vedova scaltra. This is a comedy about Rosaura and her four suitors from France, England, Italy and Spain. There is also a servant, Arlecchino, who functions as a go-between, bringing messages and gifts from the suitors to Rosaura. Naturally there are a lot of complications – including fights and disguises – before everything is sorted out in the last scene. Quite entertaining, in fact.

It seems quite natural that this recording was made in Venice, where playwright as well as composer were born. In a slightly dry but agreeable acoustic the balance between orchestra and soloists is as good as any other live recording I have heard. Karl Martin appears well attuned to Wolf-Ferrari’s music and the playing and choral singing cannot be faulted. In fact there is real gusto in the chorus. Of the male soloists the two tenors, Emanuele D’Aguanno and Mark Milhofer, are both excellent with light lyrical voices. Alex Esposito as Arlecchino obviously enjoys himself greatly while Maurizio Muraro and Riccardo Zanellato are competent but more anonymous. Elena Rossi is a spirited Marionette but her tone is rather edgy. The star of the performance is however the Norwegian soprano Anne-Lise Sollied as Rosaura. She is a splendid actress and sings with nice care for nuance, especially noticeable in her long solo Nella notturna selva (CD 1 tr. 9). In the final reconciliation she rises to ecstatic heights.

The Italian text can be obtained from the internet but it is quite easy to follow the plot with the help of the synopsis. The recording is also available on DVD (Naxos DVD 2.110234-35) and might be even more attractive in that form.

I do not see this set as signalling a Wolf-Ferrari renaissance but it is good to have this example of his art available in a far from negligible reading. The presence of an audience is hardly disturbing and stage noises are reduced to a minimum.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Classical Music

It Was in Frankfurt Am Main on 16 September 1810 That Carl Maria Von Weber's Opera Silvana Was First Performed. A Box-Office Hit, Silvana Is Practically Forgotten Today, Even Though It Enjoyed a Very Respectable Performance History. CPO Is Now Releasing the First Recording of the Original Version of Weber's Heroic Opera. The Present Recording Now for the First Time Relies on the Materials for the Critical Scholarly Edition of the Work, Including the Dialogues, As Well As Many Changes Weber Made for the Work's Premiere. The Positive Final Result Is Can Now Be Heard on This Release.

Marc-Antoine Charpentier's Actéon is a pastorale or miniature opera based on Greek mythology. Staged in 1684, the story is about the hunter Actaeon who peeks at the bathing goddess Diana, turned into a red deer, pursued and killed by his own hounds. The music is continuously imaginative with rhythmic choral parts, elegant solos and dramatic flourishes.

Stefano Pavesi's work was swept away by the Rossini operatic avalanche and he is now almost forgotten, but while his vibrantly entertaining (though not without a touch of melancholy) melodrama giocoso Ser Marcantonio has many Rossini an features the young Gioachino's operatic career was yet to begin when it was first staged. The libretto sets up a typical late eighteenth-century opera buff a plot full of intrigue, buffoonery, disguises and cases of mistaken identity, which may be summarized as "about preventing an old fool from making an ill-advised marriage and stopping his heir from gaining his rightful inheritance".

GREAT OPERA (10-CD Box set)

The very first operas were performed in Florence in the mid-1590s. Since then, musical styles have blossomed and evolved out of all recognition, yet opera continues to be heavily influenced by the political, social and cultural contexts surrounding its genesis. A collaborative enterprise, an opera brings together the works of composers, librettists, singers and designers alike, generating rich veins of public response and resulting in what is surely the most dramatic of all musical media. In this collection, we have brought together some of the most-loved operas, ranging from the elegance of Mozart’s Don Giovanni to the raw emotion of Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana. The lighthearted japes of Rossini’s Barber of Seville contrast royally with the pomp and spectacle of Verdi’s Aida, whilst the sultry allure of Bizet’s Carmen is the perfect foil to the lachrymose tragedy of Puccini’s La Bohème. This box is sure to entice any listener further into the magical world of opera.

Reviews of some of the original recordings that make up this set:

Don Giovanni
"Stanley Sadie once remarked that all Don GiOV117111iS should have an Italian somewhere in the cast, and it certainly helps this one to get off to a good start when Renato Girolami voices his 'None e giorno faticar' with an authentic accent and good Italianate resonance. Skovhus's Giovanni has lost something in vocal quality since the Mackerras recording, but he lives the role with conviction. A firm and sonorous Commendatore and a Masetto due for promotion strengthen the cast, while the Ottavio adds to its interest: a capable singer, who in his determination to make something positive out of this generally ineffectual character produces a charmless, rather hectoring champion brought in from some other opera, and not one by Mozart. Of the women, Adrianne Pieczonka, the Anna, is best, with clear, bright tones that just occasionally want hoisting a fraction higher to take those high As right in the centre. The Elvira is sympathetic and meets many of the technical challenges. The Zerlina, no soubrette but more a lyrical mezzo, has the knack of singing 'visibly'."

-- Gramophone [12/2011]

II barbiere di Siviglia
"Naxos's spirited new recording of II barbiere di Siviglia seems for all the world to have the crackling spontaneity of a live performance, replete with clever sound effects: creaking doors, rattling keys, tuning of instruments. But this is, in fact, an expertly mastered studio recording without the drawbacks of a noisy live audience. In other words, the best of both worlds.

The cast is bursting with future stars. It would not surprise me if the Almaviva, Ramon Vargas, were eventually to emerge as the superstar lyric tenor to follow the fading Luciano Pavarotti. Vargas can already do many things that Pavarotti never fully mastered, such as singing a true mezza voce tone, executing a messa di voce, and spinning out a genuine pianissimo. In fact, I think Vargas is the most thrilling lyric tenor to appear since the recordings of one Nino Florio were issued in 1944. (The world discovered Florio as Giuseppe di Stefano just a few years later!)

Ramon Vargas's recorded recital debut was reviewed in Fanfare 16:1 by Ralph V. Lucano, who admired his “bright, steady, ringing voice, seamlessly produced from bottom to top“ but found him “a bit monotonous in timbre“ and “a rather dour fellow.“ That isn't the case in this Naxos II barbiere di Siviglia, and Vargas emerges as the most seductively charming Almaviva on records, as well as one of the most vocally accomplished, vividly articulate in Rossini's divisions...Roberto Servile displays a fine cantante baritone as Figaro, exploding with energy and vigor in “Largo al factotum“...His bright idiomatic Figaro recalls those of Tito Gobbi and Gino Bechi. Another star in the making.

Of the three lead singers, Sonia Ganassi, an authentic contralto Rosina, is a true rarity in II barbiere recordings. The original Rosina, Geltrude Righetti-Giorgi ( was a contralto, and now for the first time in a complete II barbiere recording, modern audiences can hear the duets and ensembles weighted as Rossini conceived them. Though several mezzo Rosinas have produced good low notes in these ensembles (the brilliant Jennifer Larmore being the most recent), it is a revelation to hear Ganassi's rich contralto. The excellence of the cast continues with the veteran Angelo Romero's delightful buffo Dr. Bartolo, and Franco de Grandis's booming Don Basilio. The conductor, Will Humburg, expertly and judiciously paces the fine Failoni Chamber Orchestra."

-- James Camner, Fanfare [7/1994]

La boheme
"Orgonasova's Mimi is impressive, indeed, her only real flaw is a slight reluctance to use her words expressively; perhaps (she has worked mainly in Czechoslovakia and at smaller houses in Germany) she has sung the role rather seldom in Italian? She sings expressively, with touching characterization and a real knowledge, which makes her death scene moving, of what can be achieved by quietness and purity of tone. In fact there is a good deal of intimacy to this reading, which helps the light-voiced, not really Rodolfo-size tenor to make his mark; a pity that he won't always allow himself to be helped, and that a touch of strain occasionally shows. The Iviarcello is light-voiced, too, but vividly alive, the Colline sounds a bit plummy but the small-scale Musetta is much more than serviceable. Humburg's direction is very alert, but he rarely seems as hasty and never plods. A decent recording, too, with a good sense of space. Well worth consideration by the hard-up collector, or by someone hoping to convert a young relative to opera, or simply by the collector of promising voices: we shall hear more of Orgonasova."

-- M.E.O., Gramophone [4/1991]

A great work; possibly the composer’s masterpiece.

I have to hold my hand up. In spite of thinking myself as being one of the world’s biggest enthusiasts of British music, I had my doubts about this opera when I heard that it was due to be released. I could not possibly imagine the claim that somehow this two and three quarter hour, three-act marathon by Sir George Alexander Macfarren could be anything other than a mediocre, third rate production from one of the ‘leading lights’ from the notorious ‘Land without Music’. Especially extravagant were claims that Robin Hood is ‘a work of musical genius superior to any works of Verdi or Donizetti, [and] doubtless the chef d’oeuvre of the English school’. Hardly likely, I thought. Perhaps, just perhaps, I was able to concede that this opera may have been ‘very full of good fun and on the way to Sullivan’. How utterly wrong-headed can I have been?

The critic of English opera can work in at least two directions. He can begin with John Blow’s masque Venus and Adonis followed by Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas, The Fairy Queen and King Arthur and work down the years by considering the works of Thomas Arne, such as Thomas and Sally. He can then explore the influence of Handel whose operas were unbelievably popular in the middle of the eighteenth century although, it must be recalled that he was a German who had visited Italy! My edition of the Harvard Dictionary of Music quite boldly states that ‘the writing of serious operas by English composers of the first rank practically ceased until the 20 ^th century.’ This prejudice tends to ignore works such as Michael Balfe’s The Bohemian Girl, W.V. Wallace’s Maritana and Julius Benedict’s The Lily of Killarney. These once extremely popular works were regarded as operas and not as operetta, in spite of their being ‘not too heavy’ in their theme and content. At the end of this period comes Sullivan – both with and without William Schwenck Gilbert.

Other critics will work backwards. Perhaps starting with Harrison Birtwistle’s Punch and Judy they regress through the great operas by Benjamin Britten and Ralph Vaughan Williams. There are sometimes a few digressions to Tippett, Berkeley and Maconchy. However at the end of the day, they too end up with Sullivan before promptly dismissing him. They then investigate the purer waters of Purcell.

Somewhere in the middle of all this historical exploration is Sir George Alexander Macfarren who wrote a number of operas including Allan of Aberfeldy, King Charles II, She Stoops to Conquer, Helvellyn and Robin Hood. David Chandler has defined the opera’s status as follows: -

‘ Robin Hood certainly anticipates Ivanhoe and some later attempts at a truly English style of opera, but it also marks the end of an era. It belongs to the last and greatest period of the Victorian English romantic opera, along with Loder’s Raymond and Agnes (1855), Wallace’s exactly contemporaneous Lurline (1860), the same composer’s The Amber Witch (1861), and Benedict’s The Lily of Killarney (1862). It is totally distinct from these contemporary works however, and an impressive monument to Macfarren’s enduring and largely successful efforts to fashion a truly English species of musical theatre, at once looking back and looking forwards.’

It is a bold endeavour indeed to embark on reviving an opera that many people will regard as being well past its sell by date. To consider making a recording is heroic. It is almost certain this will be the one and only version produced in our lifetimes. It has to be good: it has to sell the music and create something well beyond the experience of visiting a ‘museum’. There was considerable work involved in restoring the performing edition: the parts had gone missing and the full score was written in a ‘spidery hand’. This mammoth task was undertaken by Dr. Valerie Langfield. It is not just a case of copying out the bars into Sibelius and pressing the ‘print score and parts’ button. There was a heap of technical issues, such as the fact the Macfarren used a three-stringed double bass and horns with interchangeable crooks.

The CD liner-notes provide a synopsis of the opera and the full libretto is available on the Naxos website. However it will do no harm to give a thumbnail sketch of the story. The libretto was written by John Oxenford (1812–1877) who made use of a number of motifs from the corpus of Robin Hood stories as well as Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe.

The first act sees Robin Hood disguised as Locksley, who is a suitor of Marian, the Sheriff of Nottingham’s daughter. The second act portrays the robbery of the Abbot or as presented here the ‘sompnour’ and this is followed by the archery contest which Robin/Locksley wins and receives the hand of Marian. However the sompnour recognizes Robin who is cast into prison. The third act has Marian fleeing to the forest to summon Robin Hood’s followers who naturally come to the rescue. All ends happily with the death warrant received from King John actually being a pardon. Robin and Marion are reunited and there is ‘general rejoicing.’ Naturally there are many sub-plots and events worked into the story such as the ‘feasting in the forest’ and the ‘town fair’ scenes.

The score is full of attractive and often beautiful music that will leave the doubter speechless. It may not be Verdi or Donizetti - was all Verdi great? - but there is a quality of musical endeavour here that must surely strike the listener as being well beyond the perceived ‘dry as dust’ or overly sentimental qualities that have attached themselves to this period of British music. For example listen to Robin’s beautiful aria ‘My own, my guiding star’ from Act Two (CD2 Track 3) or to Marian’s gorgeous offering of True Love in Act 1 (CD1 Track 6). This is operatic music at its best, not over the top, but moving and attractive. The patriotic ballad ‘Englishmen by birth are free’ (CD1 Track 9) must be one of the highlights of the opera: one can imagine it going down exceptionally well at the height of the Victorian era. It is certainly as good as any of Sullivan’s arias such as Lord Mountararat’s ‘When Britain really ruled the waves’. One of the hits at the time of the first performance was Robin and the Greenwood men’s ‘The Grasping Normans’ (CD1 Track 14). It is difficult to say that any part of the opera is weak or falls below the standards set by these ‘hits’.

The performers in this groundbreaking recording are the Victorian Opera Chorus and Orchestra. Their mission is to record lost or forgotten operatic works by British composers. They are joined by the John Powell Singers. The soloists are professional and the chorus and orchestra are drawn from a variety of local groups and societies. The quality of the singing from the principals and chorus is excellent. All the players are kept in order by Ronald Corp, who has drawn an outstanding performance from all concerned.

The liner-notes are first-rate, the sound quality superb and the cover picture of ‘The Edge of Sherwood Forest’ is totally appropriate. Altogether a great production.

Let us hope that one day this work will be seen in all its glory on the stage: it is just the sort of opera that would go down a treat at the Buxton Festival. Meanwhile, the story of Robin Hood is so well known that even the least imaginative of listeners can provide the mental backcloth, scenery and props to this well-loved story.

So I was wrong. Robin Hood has seriously impressed me. As preparation for this review I have listened to it two or three times as well as picking out the purple passages. The more I hear this music the more it appears competent, attractive, often beautiful, sometimes moving and always interesting. And I am not an opera buff! In fact, I am coming to love it as much as I love G&S.

This is a CD that all opera fans ought to have. Some people will ignore it simply because it was written by an Englishman during Queen Victoria’s reign. They would be utterly misguided to do so. This is a great work; possibly the composer’s masterpiece and is a light opera (not operetta) that can hold its best up against anything offered by the Italians and the French and the Germans from the same period.

-- John France, MusicWeb International

Anton Urspruch was Franz Liszt’s favourite pupil and saw himself as a ‘progressive modernist’. His music, whilst influenced by his teacher, and by Wagner, diverged from the paths taken by contemporaries such as Reger and Richard Strauss. His masterpiece, the comic opera Das Unmöglichste von Allem, is constructed on a symphonic scale with a series of amusing plot lines powered by tuneful and inventive writing. Although the opera was well received early on by both critics and musicians, after Urspruch’s death it fell into oblivion until triumphantly revived by the forces on this live recording, the first performance of the original, uncut version of the opera.

This brand-new recording of Orfeo lacks thrills and grand vocal displays, and the results are beautiful indeed. Purposely eschewing what opera turned into within a half-century of this, the purported first entirely extant opera, Andrew Parrott, with 40 years of experience and scholarship under his belt, has opted to present a “favola in musica” rather than the later notation, a “dramma per musica”. The distinction is one of size, scope, and focus.

The performances that were given of Orfeo at the court of Mantua were neither fully-staged nor opulent; there is mention of a “curtain” but the room itself was salon-sized and the purpose of the event was to appreciate the combination of poetry and music. There were no singing stars; the purpose of the show was not virtuosity. It was an experiment for the heightening of the text by music.

With that in mind, this exquisite, delicate reading is a glorious alternative to, say, the Philip Pickett, René Jacobs, or Nikolaus Harnoncourt performances (let alone the heartbreaking Emmanuel Haim reading on Virgin), which are interested in Orfeo as a piece of theater, designed to “impress” and possibly stun. Parrott’s show places equal emphasis on the music and text—the words are delivered flawlessly, with strength where needed, but utterly devoid of melodrama. The drama is in the sadness of both words and music. It’s almost like Mozart in that respect: his operas rarely need to be “interpreted”; if the singers and players follow the music and text scrupulously, an effect will be made. It may not engender shock and awe, but the tale will be told, without over-emphasizing or exaggeration.

And that is what we get here. The first CD begins with the sound of a few people chattering, and the Gonzaga fanfare is first heard from a distance. Then it comes a bit closer—in a different key (this is not explained), which is a bit jarring but certainly makes us pay attention. The first voice we hear—La Musica—is that of countertenor David Hurley, perhaps the purest male adult voice I’ve ever heard (including Phillip Jaroussky’s). It is light as a feather, and music itself.

Charles Daniels is a wonderful Orfeo—sweet and gentle—and he handles the amazingly difficult “Possente spirto” and “Orfeo son io” in the third act beautifully, with every note clear and focused, but without any grandstanding. His legato (this entire performance is all about the unstoppability of music as exhibited by superb legato playing and singing from everyone) is a thing of wonder. Caronte, in the person of Curtis Streetman, also singing smoothly (and with a sensational trillo on the word “canto”), brings out some forte, impassioned pleading from Daniels’ Orefo—all the more effective since all else has been so understated.

Emily van Evera’s Messaggiera is a problem—her voice is too bright and she is too matter-of-fact for someone delivering such terrible news—but her Prosperina is so lovely that Christopher Purves’ Plutone must give in to her request. Faye Newton’s Eurydice is particularly effective in her final farewell, with its weird-and-weirder chromatic lines. Some might argue that the Infernal Spirits are not menacing enough; I would direct their attention to the accompaniment of the three trombones and two bass trombones, which add enough darkness to hide the sun. The only other concession to this being a staged work is the gradual disappearance of Apollo (finely sung by Guy Melc) and Orfeo near the opera’s close, since there is in fact a stage direction in the score that states that they “ascend”.

There are 29 instrumentalists, 14 of whom are string players; several of the singers play double roles. The harmonies in the choruses are spotless, with the men’s voices impeccably matched; this is some of the smoothest singing I’ve ever heard. Pitch is A=440 (most other recordings use A=465) which adds to the ease of production and mellow, sad telling of this well-known tale. The sound is pristine.

This may not be an only choice for a version of Orfeo; it’s an alternative, possibly thoroughly accurate reading of the favola. But its poetic approach is an ideal companion to the more aggressive, later 17th and early 18th century “operatic” readings mentioned above, with Haim’s probably first.

– Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

First presented in 1734, Oreste isn't quite an "opera" by Handel. Rather, it's a pastiche, albeit put together by the composer himself for the cast who would star the following month in the newly composed Ariodante. Oreste, whose plot is much the same as Gluck's Iphigenie en Tauride, is almost entirely (there are a couple of newly composed dance sequences) made up of arias from the composer's other operas, some going back as far as 1707. There are bits of Partenope, Sosarme, Tamerlano, Rodrigo, Lotario, Ottone, Agrippina, and other operas, all here in different contexts, most with different texts and most arranged in slightly different ways. If this were the first Handel opera I'd ever heard, and I hadn't been told it was a collection of bits, I'd never know, and I'd be dazzled by it. Much to the composer's credit, the borrowings make an interesting whole, and the two hours and 25 minutes go by with alacrity, the dramatic moments piling one upon the other.

And as with any works by Handel, especially those designed for the greatest singers of his day, paramount to even the slightest success is a strong sense of what constitutes Baroque style and the ability of the performers to negotiate complicated vocal lines. So without a recognizable name in the crowd, you have to wonder, are these unknown singers--all of them Greek or of Greek parentage--up to their tasks? The answer is a delightful "yes".

In the castrato role of Oreste, Canadian-born mezzo Mary Ellen Nesi is a real find. The voice is expressive and handsome, and she has no trouble with the rapid passagework or with Handel's smoother lines that require a true legato. She is a singer to keep an eye on: even in our chock-full-of-good-mezzos time, she's worth hearing. Mata Katsuli as Ifigenia sings with a whitish tone that at times sounds unhealthy, but she too is "in" her role. Ermione (Orestes' wife, not in the Gluck, but apparently in the neighborhood of Tauride) is the big soprano role, and Maria Mitsopoulou has the temperament and the technique, and only some nasty top notes mar her performance. As the villainous Toante, bass Petros Magoulas is fluent and arresting. His captain, Filotete, is well done by the opaque-voiced countertenor Nicholas Spano, and tenor Antonis Koroneos as Oreste's pal Pilade is remarkable with his coloratura, but his voice almost entirely lacks body. George Petrou leads the expert Camerata Stuttgart with sensitivity to the singers, although you sometimes wish he had pushed them a bit more. In short, yes, it's a pasticcio, but it's terrific Handel, it's dramatically coherent, and it will make a good addition to your collection.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

Throughout the early nineteenth century La Clemenza di Tito was Mozart's most popular opera everywhere in Europe. Since he died merely three months after it's completion, he did not live to see how successful the opera became. In keeping with the practice during that time period, it was performed in versions adapted to the times and the taste of the opera public and that is precisely the starting point for the conductor, Alessandro De Marchi. This release is as authentic as possible and quite a delight for Mozart lovers.

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

Falla: Vida Breve (La)

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.

In 1996, Vox released a 4-CD set that included this, the original La Scala fiasco version of Madama Butterfly, as well as Puccini's revisions for Brescia and Paris. It was a fascinating release and fans of the opera immediately realized what had been wrong with the first version: The first act contained far too much "local color" in the form of music for Butterfly's relatives (there's even a drinking song for her uncle Yakuside), and the 90-minute last act, in addition to simply being too long in general, dragged out the overnight vigil, too abruptly went into Butterfly's lullaby to her child, and wasted an extra couple of minutes between Butterfly's final lines and her suicide--what on earth could she be doing? Puccini later trimmed away a great deal of fat, altered many, many notes and tonalities (it's a delight, actually, to note the differences), added Pinkerton's rueful "Addio fiorito asil" as well as Butterfly's heartbreaking recognition of Kate Pinkerton, and much more. (The ultimate "Ah! Morte!" at the close of her pathetic second-act narrative to Sharpless was an afterthought as well; originally her vision of returning to life as a geisha ends softly and less desperately.)

This is a very well sung performance. Bulgarian soprano Svetlana Katchour is a big lyric (going on spinto) with an attractive sound, her pitch is dead-center, the voice is well and evenly produced, and when her Italian isn't garbled, it's not bad. Her Butterfly is severely undercharacterized, however: she seems a bit shy in Act 1 and pretty unhappy in Act 2, but she never truly moves us as the greatest Butterflys (such as Dal Monte, Scotto, or Callas) do. Pity--the voice is marvelous. Tenor Bruce Rankin, having to make Pinkerton nothing but a cad (without his final, sympathetic aria), does so very well. His also is a lyric voice, but the sound is appealing, the technique in place, and a lively mind is clearly behind his interpretation. It will be nice to hear more of him.


Fredrika Brillemburg's Suzuki is right there with Butterfly, sympathetically and with nice tone in the Flower Duet. Baritone Heikki Kilpeläinen sounds very young for Sharpless, but it's a quality voice. Gunter Neuhold takes six minutes less in the first and 10 minutes less in the second act than Charles Rosekrans on Vox, and the latter hardly lags. I must admit that even though things occasionally do seem rushed on Naxos at 57 and 82 minutes respectively (per act), perhaps getting through them somewhat quickly is not such a bad idea. The Bremen Orchestra is very good, the chorus less so. Naxos' sound is excellent. The Vox performance featured an okay cast--no more. This new Naxos set is the one to own if you want the original, and fans of the opera (particularly at Naxos' price), will need this.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

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.

Rossini: Maometto Secondo

Gluck: Orfeo ed Euridice (first Vienna version, 1762)

Comprising four separate operas, Wagner' visionary Der Ring des Nibelungen took 25 years to complete. Centered around a ring of power and the attempts of various people to acquire it, the Ring cycle explores the relationship bet.

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.

Enescu: Oedipe

Classical Music