BRITISH OPERA OVERTURES: English Opera in the Nineteenth Century • Richard Bonynge, cond; Victorian Opera O • SOMM 0123 (74:36)


BENEDICT The Lily of Killarny. BARNETT The Mountain Sylph. BALFE The Siege of Rochelle. Le Puits d’amour. LODER The Night Dancers. WALLACE Lurline. The Amber Witch. Love’s Triumph Prelude. MACFARREN She Stoops to Conquer. THOMAS The Golden Web


For the most part, these are pleasant, skillfully wrought pieces, though some may deride them as a mere parade of pleasant tunes. I imagine the annotator makes a valid point in blaming the librettos of the operas they precede for the music’s demise in popularity. If you’re really curious, a few of them have made their way to recordings. John Barnett’s opera The Mountain Sylph is based on the same story that resulted in the venerable ballet La Sylphide (1836), composed by Herman Løvenskiold with choreography by August Bournonville. Like Rossini, Duparc, and Sibelius, Barnett severely curtailed or stopped his composing, in his case, from 1841 until his death in 1890. During his long life, he met Beethoven and studied with Weber. On the other hand, Edward Loder’s The Night Dancers uses some of the same plot as another venerable ballet, Giselle (1841), and Puccini’s opera Le villi, but no unfaithful bridegrooms have to dance to their deaths—it all turns out to have been a bad dream. Unlike Barnett, Loder attempts a few spooky effects in his Overture. Probably the most successful of these Victorian composers was Michael William Balfe, who is represented by two overtures, those to The Siege of Rochelle and Le Puits d’amour (“The Well of Love”—it’s also a French pastry with a hollow center). The latter work, with a libretto by Scribe, was first presented in Paris. His first London success was The Siege of Rochelle , his fourth opera. He went on to compose 24 more, of which the most successful was The Bohemian Girl . Unlike most of these operas, William Wallace’s Lurline , based on the Lorelei legend, has actually been recorded. Both the Overture and that to his The Amber Witch seem more engaged by the story than some of the overtures I have mentioned. George Macfarren’s She Stoops to Conquer is, as expected, based on Oliver Goldsmith’s 1773 play. Some composers have continued to create even after they became deaf, or nearly so; Macfarren wrote She Stoops to Conquer after he had gone blind. It has not been recorded but there is a recording of another of his operas, Robin Hood . I am grateful to Richard Bonynge for his interest in obscure vocal and dance music which has resulted in some delightful recordings—in fact, I’m interested in almost anything he chooses to record. One can enrich the catalog without adding another Beethoven symphony cycle to it.


FANFARE: James Miller

VERDI: Lombardi alla prima crociata (I)

Classical Music

Handel: Gideon (Compiled and Arr. by J. C. Smith)

Verdi: Il Corsaro

Rossini: Turco in Italia (Il)

PAISIELLO: Giuochi d'Agrigento (I) [Opera]

ROSSINI: Cambiale di matrimonio (La)

Classical Music

REVIEWS:

“Although seventy-five years old, these mono recordings have been digitally remastered to reveal a thrilling performance of this great dramatic work.” – John Pitt, New Classics

“Full marks... Baillie is superb... Parry Jones makes a real impression. Williams is a magnificent colossus of an Elijah. I’d recommend this retrieval with pleasure.” – Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb

“First rate standards of production and repertoire... Astoundingly good quality.” – David Patmore, Classic Record Collector

“Williams is a magnificent prophet... Histrionically exciting and technically accomplished. Baillie is as always fresh-toned with pinpoint attack. The well trained choir is vital and dramatic, as is Robinson’s conducting. I am pleased to have had the opportunity to hear this set.” – John T. Hughes, International Record Review

Classical Music

KÁLMÁN Der Zigeunerprimas ? Claus Peter Flor, cond; Gabriele Rossmanith (Sári); Edith Lienbacher (Juliska); Zoran Todorovich (Gaston); Roberto Saccà (Laczi); Wolfgang Bankl ( Pali Rácz ); Sunnyi Melles (narr); Munich RSO; Slovakian P Ch; Bavarian St. Op Children?s Ch ? cpo 777 058 (2 CDs: 101:23)


About three years ago, the Ohio Light Opera released an English-language recording of the complete score, with dialogue, of Kálmán?s early hit Zigeunerprimas (?The Gypsy Violinmaster?). Known to its first American audiences by the name of its heroine, Sári , this story of generational conflict in a family of Hungarian musicians offers ample opportunities for local color á la Hongroise , in so doing providing a resume of the shifting styles of central European operetta at the turn of the century. In my review of that release (26:1), I noted that the composer frequently timed the American and European premieres of his stage works so as to maximize their impact on both sides of the Atlantic, to great success, and with a notable impact on his style, which embraced ?American? dance forms and syncopations faster than did the works of his continental contemporaries


I also noted that the virtues of the Ohio recording lay primarily in the quality of the playing?higher than is often the case from that summer-stock company?and the naturalness of the atmosphere. Surprisingly, while the new recording scores in many areas by comparison, especially in the quality of the direction, orchestral playing, and interpretation (hardly surprising, given the provenance of the musicians), not to mention that it is presented in the original German, the less-polished Ohio effort remains a surprisingly resilient contender.


The reason for this has more to do with the presentation than the performance. If the German recording had merely been cut, or if it consisted solely of musical excerpts, one would be able to rue a loss in dramatic continuity, particularly in the many involving melodramas that run through the score. But the producers have gone a step further, introducing a narrator, who intrudes between musical numbers not only to provide plot summary, which she delivers somewhat in the manner of a carnival barker, but also snatches of dialogue. In itself, the voice of Sunnyi Melles serves the purpose, but when she is called upon to embody the old gypsy violin master and his son, even when they are arguing with one other, one wishes the radio studio had at least hired some other actors. Perhaps to save airtime in the broadcast, dialogue is cut and summarized, often archly and pompously. Elsewhere, the recording falters with a grating, stilted use of a children?s choir in Sari?s entrance scene. While the number calls on her to interact with a group of children, their stilted laughter and clockwork ?oohs? and ?aahs? suck spontaneity out of the moment.


Yet the virtues of the present recording are obvious from the first chords of the overture, with its idiomatically sensitive rubato phrasing, suggesting both an authentic ?Hungarian? flavor and the underlying melancholy?the sense of loss?of the title character. Particularly apt are the many stylistic shifts, which correspond to the changing traditions and tastes reflected in the different musical worlds of father and son. The virtuosic solo violin passages keyed to the father?s world have their folk-music roots underscored by a generous application of cimbalom (an effect missing from the Ohio production); Claus Peter Flor captures the springing fox-trot and waltz rhythms of the son?s emphatically turn-of-the-century world with a constant sense of interest. Narration aside, the finely balanced recording and orchestral playing are almost worth the price of admission.


As the ?Gypsy Master? Pali Racz himself, Wolfgang Bankl projects a weighty and appropriate sense of age, his baritone a bit woolly and weary but constantly in the part. The key moment is his character?s final humiliation. Greeted as an exotic, Racz is asked to play at a Parisian party where his son has already scored with appropriately light and ?modern? dance music. But the bored guests viciously ridicule his old-fashioned gypsy virtuosity as ?horrible scratching.? Bankl invests his voice here with palpable heartbreak, as he sings the reprise of his love song to his ?old Stradivarius.? The finality with which he packs up his career and delivers his prized old instrument to the son he has always undervalued is truly moving.


Bankl?s ?older? voice effectively contrasts with the heroic sound of Zoran Todorovich as his rival and Sari?s eventual love-interest, Gaston. Todorovich has become a constant at Austrian operetta festivals in recent years, and the baritonal steel of his voice does render Gaston a convincing romantic lead. The other roles are also well cast. Edith Lienbacher?s Juliska is light and a bit warbly, but blends glowingly with Roberto Saccà?s light tenor (as the put-upon son Laczi), particularly in the duet at the opening of the second act, whose own distilled Wagnerism bears more than a passing similarity to the Pavillon duet from The Merry Widow . Gabriele Rossmanith rounds out the principals with a powerfully sung Sari. Special mention should also be made of the excellent solo violin work that runs throughout; much of this score comes across as a kind of ?violin concerto in the form of an operetta,? but the soloist unfortunately goes uncredited.


Now that we finally have a recording of Zigeunerprimas in its original language, the choice is clear but difficult. For theatrical atmosphere and a sense of how Kálmán?s theater works for the American stage, the OLO recording may do nicely; but for atmosphere, color, interpretation, and sheer vocalism, the Munich recording comes out far ahead. If only that narrator could somehow be plucked out, I could recommend the new cpo recording without reservations.


FANFARE: Christopher Williams

Ondine is pleased to announce the new release of legendary Strauss-singer Soile Isokoski. A multiple award-winner, her recording of Strauss Four Last Songs won a Gramophone Award in 2002. The rarely recorded Three Hymns are coupled with opera arias from Ariadne auf Naxos, Der Rosenkavalier and Capriccio. All of those arias are part of Soile Isokoski's standard repertoire, performing those roles regularly at opera houses like Vienna State Opera, Covent Garden, and Milan’s La Scala.

A bubbly effusion of Rossini’s music, some new, some re-cycled, all enjoyable.

Rossini’s pre-eminence among his contemporaries was widely recognised after the success of his opera seria Tancredi and comic opera L’Italiana in Algeri in Venice in 1813. The composer was summoned to Naples by the impresario Barbaja and offered the musical directorship of the Royal Theatres, the San Carlo and Fondo. The proposal appealed to Rossini for several reasons. First, his annual fee was generous and guaranteed. Secondly, and equally important, unlike Rome and Venice, Naples had a professional orchestra. Rossini saw this as a considerable advantage as he aspired to push the boundaries of opera into more adventurous directions and did so in the nine opera seria he composed during his seven year stay in the position. Under the terms of the contract, Rossini was to provide two operas each year for Naples whilst being permitted to compose occasional works for other cities.

The composer tended to push the limits of his contract in respect of composing for other theatres. In the first two years he composed no fewer than five operas for other venues, with Il Barbiere di Siviglia being the most successful. This pace of composition and presentation of operas was necessary for a composer to enjoy a decent standard of living. There was also the fact that an opera success in a city far away, at least by the standards of the day, allowed an element of self-plagiarisation. Why waste good tunes - even when a work has been a failure - although this was sometimes taken to excess with straight lifts of music with the words simply altered.

After his first trip to Rome, and the massive success of Il Barbiere di Siviglia, Rossini returned to Naples to find the San Carlo theatre burned down. He composed a cantata for a ceremony to celebrate the wedding of the royal princess. Rather than proceeding with the two operas he was contracted to write for Naples, Rossini then proceeded to enjoy himself around town rather than composing. This led to Barbaja writing a formal letter of complaint to the theatre management about the delay in production, whilst the local papers were scathing. At last, much delayed, the first of the two contracted operas, La gazzetta, (The newspaper), was premiered at the small Teatro dei Fiorentini, Naples on 26 September 1816. It was Rossini’s eighteenth opera and was to be the only comic opera that he wrote for the city. Having given time to the production of Tancredi during the rehearsals of La gazzetta, it was no surprise that Rossini completed the work in a hurry and used music that was well known in Rome and elsewhere and some which would be used again in the near future in La Cenerentola. This is fact, although in the booklet essay with this issue the writer contends that the hand-written score of La gazzetta shows evidence of much care. Being popular with the local audience if not with the local press, it had twenty-one performances. The work was soon withdrawn and not seen again until revived in Rome one hundred and forty years or so later.

The action of La gazzetta takes place in a Parisian inn where several guests are staying. Don Pomponio, a local big mouth, extols the virtues of his daughter and has advertised the fact in the local papers as he seeks to marry her off. To cater for local tradition at the Teatro dei Fiorentini the role of Don Pomponio was written in Neapolitan dialect and is sung here by a native of the city Marco Cristarella Orestano. I cannot vouch for the veracity of his Neapolitan patois but he certainly enters into the spirit of his character. Whilst not being the most mellifluous of baritones his quick patter is delivered with good Rossinian taste and skill (CD 1 Trs. 4-6). Don Pomponio is unaware that his daughter, Lisetta, is in love with Filippo, owner of the inn. Judith Gauthier sings this high role with warm tone, pleasing vocal purity and characterisation (CD 1 Tr. 8). In the duets with her father (CD 1 Tr. 14) and her lover (CD 2 Tr. 4) she characterises the role particularly well. Her lover, Filippo, is sung by Giulio Mastrototaro, one of a clutch of more than adequate lower-voiced males who appear in the cast. Whilst not being outstanding they play a vital part in making the opera truly comic.

Of the other pair of lovers the warm-tones of Sicilian soprano of Rossella Bevacqua contrasts nicely with those of Doralice (CD 1 Tr. 12). Alberto, in search of a wife confuses her with the lady advertised in the ‘Gazzetta’ and which confusion is all part of the improbable fun. While not written to feature any of the high-voiced tenors that Barbaja had under contract in Naples, the role has high tessitura as well as a low dramatic requirement. In this performance it is sung by American Michael Spyres. The following year at Bad Wildbad Spyres sang the role of Otello, written for the great Andrea Nozzari famous for his florid singing and powerful lower notes. Spyres has the range, with a strong baritonal patina, however, whilst being ardent he lacks security and easy divisions in the coloratura in the more florid writing (CD 2 Tr. 6). As Madama La Rose, Maria Soulis’s mezzo is rich and flexible (CD 2 Tr.2).

The enjoyment of this typically Rossinian froth depends so much on the cast and the conductor being sympathetic to the idiom. This is the case here with Christopher Franklin on the rostrum drawing a vibrant performance from orchestra, chorus and soloists. In what is obviously an updated staging proceedings are interrupted by warm applause at the end of most set numbers. The tracks are generous allowing for those who want to get rid of the extensive recitative; personally I do not find this troublesome – at least not in this lively performance. There is some stage noise.

The booklet has a good track-related synopsis as well as an informative essay on the background to the opera, both in English and German. There are artist profiles in English. The background essay addresses the problem of the composition of the Act 1 quintet (CD 1 Tr. 10) and whether Rossini himself composed it. Listen and see if you recognise the music. Rossini enthusiasts will want to pursue the research and solution carried out by Gossett and Scipioni and which is discussed at length in the former’s Divas and Scholars (Chicago, 2006). Also interesting is how a producer butchered their efforts at Pesaro in 2001 (pp. 246-247). The production concerned can be seen as reprised at the Gran Teatre del Liceu, Barcelona, in 2005 on Oopus Arte OA0953D. Interestingly, Gossett contends that the first authentic production of the critical edition was in Britain at the 2001 Garsington Festival. It was at this venue that the British premiere of Rossini’s Armida - which I attended - was produced in 2010.

If you like Rossini’s music for his comic operas you will enjoy this performance and have the somewhat naughty pleasure of identifying the music he borrowed and from where - a hint do not always look to what he had composed before La gazzetta. A full libretto, in Italian can be accessed at the Naxos site.

-- Robert J Farr, MusicWeb International

The composition of Maria Stuarda was fraught with complications. After the completion of Lucrezia Borgia in 1833 the librettist Felice Romani withdrew from further collaborations and Donizetti, who was already contracted for a production at San Carlo in Naples, more or less in panic engaged the amateur poet Giuseppe Bardari in Romani’s place. The music was composed during the summer of 1834 and in September the dress rehearsal took place. The following day, however, the King of Naples cancelled the performance of the opera on the grounds that ‘the presentation of operas and ballets of tragic arguments should always be prohibited’. Donizetti reworked his opera into Boundelmonte in less than a fortnight, the premiere took place on 14 October with the action moved from Tudor England to Renaissance Italy. It was not a success.

Donizetti didn’t want to give in, and after negotiations, carried out by his publisher Ricordi, Maria Stuarda was mounted at La Scala in December 1835. Again it was not a success at the premiere but was played half a dozen times each time with a better reception. Then the censors interfered and the work disappeared, even though it was played in the Italian provinces and also in Naples in 1865.

It took almost a century before it was unearthed and played at the Teatro Donizetti in Bergamo in 1958 and also in Stuttgart a few years later. It was not until the St Pancras Festival in 1966 that it became established and since then it has been one of the more popular of Donizetti’s operas.

It is based on Schiller’s play but is pared down to more manageable dimensions, reducing the number of characters from twenty-one to six. The confrontation between the two queens has no historical reliability; it was Schiller’s invention.

Musically it is one of Donizetti’s best and points forward to Verdi, whose first opera was only four years away. Maybe the melodies are not as immediately memorable as, for instance, those in Lucia, but they are dramatically efficient and attractive in their own right. The quality of an opera can often be judged from the number of recordings, and next to Lucia, which is supreme, Maria Stuarda is among the contenders. Of the studio recordings one can choose between Beverly Sills, Joan Sutherland and Edita Gruberova in the title role. There is also a live recording in English from the ENO with Janet Baker as Maria. The present set boasts no superstars but on the other hand there is an all-Italian cast, which lends authenticity.

Riccardo Frizza conducts a wholly idiomatic performance with sensible tempos. He is well assisted by the orchestra. The chorus is also good, though there are some over-vibrant sopranos that tend to stick out, but not to such a degree that their presence ruins the enjoyment. They are at their best in the chorus that opens the final scene of the opera: Vedeste? Vedemmo … Qual truce apparato (CD 2 tr. 9).

Laura Polverelli is a vibrant Elisabetta, dramatic, powerful and expressive and her opening aria Ah! Quando all’ara scorgemi and the following cabaletta Ah! Dal ciel discenda have a certain thrill, though she is sometimes a bit clumsy. The duet with Leicester, Era d’amor l’immagine that finishes act I, is one of the best numbers in the opera and it is sung with feeling and some elegance by both singers. Even better is the third act aria Quella vita. Roberto De Biasio takes some time to warm up, singing ably but not in a way that is particularly ingratiating in the first act. In the second act he is much more sensitive and in act III he is really very good. Maria, who doesn’t appear until act II, is sung by Maria Pia Piscitelli, who has a full, rounded voice which is nicely contrasted with Polverelli’s. O nube! Che lieve (CD 1 tr. 14) is very good but she sweeps the board in act III with Quando di luce rosea (CD 2 tr. 7). Simone Alberghini is a rather shaky Talbot, while Mario Cassi is a competent Cecil.

The recorded sound is very good and the balance between stage and pit realistic. There are inevitably some stage noises and applause. These have not been edited out but their presence contributes to the feeling of a real performance.

Of the two sets that I own I prefer the one with Beverly Sills (now available on Brilliant Classics 93963 at super-budget price), a set that also boasts the absolutely magnificent Eileen Farrell as Elisabetta and a fine Leicester, sung by Stuart Burrows. Sutherland on Decca is less expressive than Sills, and Huguette Tourangeau can’t compete in vocal opulence with Farrell. Pavarotti’s Leicester is brilliantly sung but Burrows is more stylish. The present set is attractive for the singing of the two prima donnas and the tenor and is the most idiomatically Italian of them all. At the usual give-away Naxos price it is well worth the investment.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Based, like Beethoven' opera Fidelio, on the original French libretto by Jean-Nicolas Bouilly, Mayr' opera L'amor coniugale won considerable success at it's first performance in Padua in 1805.

ROSSINI Otello • Antonino Fogliani, cond; Michael Spyres ( Otello ); Jessica Pratt ( Desdemona ); Giorgio Trucco ( Iago ); Filippo Adami ( Rodrigo ); Geraldine Chauvet ( Emilia ); Ugo Guagliardo ( Elmiro ); Transylvania St Phil Ch, Cluj; Virtuoso Brunensis • NAXOS 8.660275-76 (2 CDs: 148:30) Live: Bad Wildbad 7/12–19/2008


Rossini’s Otello was premiered on December 4, 1816, and remained one of his most frequently performed operas until the general eclipse of most of his works in the late 19th century. Changes in aesthetic style (the replacement of bel canto first by Verdian romantic drama and then verismo ) had practical performance implications. Like Armida, Otello also has six tenor roles—three leads and three comprimario parts. The title role is written for a baritenore , a tenor with a lower tessitura but still requiring the top notes, while Rodrigo is cast for a high coloratura tenor, and Iago halfway in between. As voice types and vocal technique changed with compositional styles, finding singers with the requisite differentiated types of tenor voices probably became increasingly difficult, and without those contrasts the concentration of so many voices in one register sounds monotonous. Also, in accordance with the practices of the era that later fell into disfavor, the libretto departs significantly from Shakespeare. It replaces the famous handkerchief with the standard plot device of intercepted letters, and portrays Desdemona as torn between love for Otello (whom she has married in secret) and filial obedience to her father’s wish that she marry Rodrigo, who as Otello’s open rival is a far more prominent character here than Iago. It is only with the great Rossini revival in recent decades that truly vital performances of such works have again become possible.


The present performance emanates from a Rossini festival in southwestern Germany, near Karlsruhe. While not ideal, this newly issued live performance immediately leaps to the fore as one of two preferred recordings of this Rossini rarity; its only real competition is the Opera Rara set with Bruce Ford, Juan José Lopera, William Matteuzzi, and Elizabeth Futral, reviewed in Fanfare 23:5 by Joel Kasow. Its greatest strength is tenor Michael Spyres in the title role, the finest rendition yet committed to disc. His voice is simply spectacular; technically more secure even than Ford, he fearlessly encompasses a two-octave-plus range with the requisite virile heft, fluency in coloratura, and interpretive commitment. Less than ideal, though not bad, are the other two principal tenors. Giorgio Trucco as Iago has a light voice, somewhat lacking in sheen and a bit on the nasal side; he takes most of act I to warm up, but is effective in act II, and I find him preferable to Lopera. The Rodrigo of Filippo Adami is more problematic. Very light and bright in timbre, it is excessively nasal and has a wobble in the sustained top notes; it is difficult to hear him as a formidable rival to Otello for the hand of Desdemona, one that would have won her father’s favor. However, his coloratura and vocal production are superior to those of Matteuzzi, and again he seems a slightly preferable choice.


The strengths extend to the rest of the cast as well. While not flawless, Jessica Pratt as Desdemona is as good as or better than Futral or any of the alternatives. Initially her voice is slightly harsh and has a few slightly squally notes at the top, but once she gets warmed up for the act I finale it is pleasing in timbre and technically assured, and she brings an interpretive commitment notably lacking in some rivals. Ugo Guagliardo as her father, Elmiro, and Geraldine Chauvet as Emilia both sing their smaller but crucial supporting roles with security and authority, and the comprimario parts are all ably filled. The chorus has a name redolent of satirical spoofs of provincial opera companies and pseudonymous recordings issued on obscure labels from the 1950s, but in fact it sings quite well. The orchestra is on the smallish side—the Philharmonia on Opera Rara has more punch—but it plays with spirit and fine ensemble. Conductor Antonino Fogliani has the full measure of the music, with brisk, energetic allegros, lyrical, flowing andantes, and just the right hint of rubato at appropriate junctures. The recorded acoustic is warm, with a touch of reverberance. In keeping with current Naxos practice, the libretto is available online rather than printed and included with the set.


While this version is now the best sung, the Opera Rara set is the preferred edition for completists, as it includes alternative arias and both endings written for the opera (due to resistance from both censors and audiences, a happy dénouement also was penned to replace the original tragic one recorded here). Kasow’s review of its virtues and flaws is dead on target, and I need add nothing to that. In 25:1 Henry Fogel reviewed the Dynamic set of the “Malibran” edition of the opera, in which the role of Otello is transposed to a mezzo-soprano trouser part. It is also on three discs and offers both endings, though cuts are made in the original tragic one. I similarly agree with his overall negative assessment; if anything, he is too kind to certain singers. The pioneering Philips recording is available in a reissue edition with libretto from ArkivMusic; despite a starry vocal line-up (Frederica von Stade, José Carreras, Salvatore Fisichelli, and Samuel Ramey), I agree with the critical consensus that it is a staid affair, stylistically inadequate in its singing (significantly excepting Fisichelli’s Rodrigo) and hobbled by the soporific conducting of Jesús López-Cobos. Naxos has a winner here; this issue is strongly recommended.


FANFARE: James A. Altena


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Otello was the second opera seria which Rossini wrote for Naples. As such, it was written for the star team of Isabella Colbran, Andrea Nozzari, Giovanni David and Giuseppe Ciccimara. It was designed to take advantage of these voices, providing spectacular music in the context of an early 19 ^th century opera seria. The plot owes little to Shakespeare and the immediate source of Berio's libretto was a more recent adaptation of the story.


For its first two acts, Otello explores themes common to Italian opera of the time; forbidden love, the conflict of duty and desire, an innocent woman being forced to choose between her lover and her father. Elements of the familiar plot are thrown together and re-cast into something entirely different; if the characters had been given other names then we'd hardly associate the opera with Shakespeare's play. But in act 3, Rossini and his librettist return to something like Shakespeare to create a magical and daring conclusion.


The opera has done rather well on disc. Jésus López-Cobos directed a 1978 recording with Jose Carreras and Frederica von Stade. Then in 2000 came Opera Rara's recording with Bruce Ford and Elizabeth Futral conducted by David Parry. Now we have this live recording in Naxos's continuing series from the Rossini in Wildbad festival.


But before we consider the recording, we need to pause and look at what Rossini was doing with his vocal writing. His use of the team of tenors in Naples has caused problems during revivals in the 20 ^th century. Colbran was a soprano, though her voice was starting to fade and Rossini's roles for her veer towards mezzo-soprano territory. The three principal tenors had contrasting voices. Giovanni David, who sang Rodrigo, had a high (very high) lyric voice with a great facility for passage-work, a real coloratura voice. Nozzari sang Otello and he had a lower, darker voice; but not that dark, as Rossini's writing shows. Nozzari still possessed some facility with high passage-work, Then finally Ciccimara, who sang Jago and whose voice did have a distinctly baritonal quality.


It is this difference in voice types which is important as Rossini uses it for contrast. The problem is that in a modern day performance, we are lucky if we can find anyone at all to sing these tricky parts and we cannot always get too fussy about fine differentiations of voice-type.


This is a live recording of a staged performance. Those people actually present would have had the immense good fortune to be able to see as well as hear the performers. For those listening to the disc at home, there are problems: the three leading tenors are not that dissimilar in voice-type and in the absence of a libretto, the listener sometimes has to work hard to tell who is whom.


Michael Spyres, who sings Otello, is entirely admirable in the role. His tone has the requisite darkness which the role requires. On the Opera Rara disc Bruce Ford is rather light of voice and it is Jose Carreras on the 1978 recording who comes over as ideal. Spyres does not quite have the flexibility demanded by the role, but he does a pretty damn good job. Unfortunately the role of Otello is rather under-written and it is Rodrigo who is the more important tenor. Here, we find Filippo Adami singing the role with the sort of attack and swagger that you would have expected for the title role. His approach is a bit rough and ready at times, but was probably bravura enough to have worked live. Unfortunately his tone is not noticeably lighter than Spyres’. This means that in their act 2 duet, particularly in the anything you can do I can do better section, the two voices lack the thrilling contrast. On the 1978 disc, Carreras and his Rodrigo are admirably contrasted and Carreras uses his heavier voice to thrilling effect.


Jessica Pratt, who has been singing Rossini's Armida at Garsington this summer (2010), makes an entirely admirable Desdemona. No-one can quite touch Montserrat Caballé in her recording of the Willow Song from Act 3, but I think I could live with Pratt. Her voice turns a bit wayward under pressure at times, but then this is a live recording. More worrying is her quite substantial vibrato, something which I had to get used to.


Giorgio Trucco makes a solid Jago, balancing Spyres well in their act 2 duet, but rather lacking in any feeling for the sly, insinuating character that we know from the play. Ugo Guagliardo is the principal bass voice in the piece, playing Elmiro, Desdemona's father. He has a nice focused voice, one that could have been made more fully exploited.


Under Antonino Fogliani's direction, the piece goes off with quite some zing especially in the set-pieces. There were however moments when I felt that the recitatives plodded somewhat. The orchestra, the Virtuosi Brunensis, is a chamber orchestra from Brno and they deliver a crisp and lively account with some really lovely solo playing. The choir, as is often the case in recordings of staged works, suffer from moments of instability of ensemble.


Naxos include a detailed summary in the CD booklet but no libretto.


Both the Opera Rara and the 1978 recordings use the Fondazione Edition of the work. This recording uses a new edition by Florian Bauer, but I can't see edition being a decider.


Opera Rara include various extra pieces in an appendix, including an entrance aria for Desdemona and the happy ending written for Rome. Both of these re-use pre-existing material. All very fascinating but you have to pay for three discs. Opera Rara seen to have taken a light, small-scale view of the work, and David Parry's direction is adequate rather than thrilling.


It is the 1978 Philips recording which remains my ideal. López-Cobos paces the work admirably and his cast are both stylish Rossinians and admirably contrasted. If you possibly can, acquire this recording.


But if you are curious about Rossini's version of Otello then you will not go far wrong with this new Naxos version.


-- Robert Hugill, MusicWeb International

For the first time, the complete Beyreuth Ring from 1962 is being released on this magnificent 4-volume collection. This legendary performance is conducted by Rudolf Kempe, and features Otto Wiener as Wanderer, Hans Hopf as Siegfried, and Birgit Nilsson as Brunnhilde. Siegfried is the third of Wagner’s four music dramas that make up his epic Der Ring des Nibelungen.

MOZART JUBILEUM - COLLECTION

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Classical Music

The notable musicologist Alfred Einstein commented that Idomeneo is 'one of those works that even a genius of highest rank, like Mozart, could write only once in his life'. Every page of the score deserves appreciation. Of the many exceptional arias and ensembles, especially notable is the third act quartet 'Andro Ramingo e solo', one of the most moving concerted numbers in any Mozart opera. This recording is based on the original 1781 Munich version, without the extended ballet but including some music cut by Mozart before the premiere.

“This set is essential” concluded Gramophone of the Ring cycle when this 2008 production was issued complete. Christian Thielemann leads a performance of masterful pacing and burning conviction that features detailed interpretations from many of today’s most experienced interpreters of their complex and glorious roles.

Maritana was one of the most popular of mid-nineteenth-century British operas. It's 1848 premiere was a triumph and was soon followed by performances in opera houses from Vienna to Philadelphia.

There is a real danger, especially in Handel’s anniversary year, that he and other major composers such as Bach and Telemann eclipse their talented contemporaries completely. Yet the Leipzig Council, for example, cannot have been entirely bone-headed in preferring Fasch and Graupner to Bach for the post of Kantor at the Thomasschule. The story that they thought Bach ‘mediocre’ is, however, based on a misunderstanding.

CPO have also recorded his secular cantatas (CPO999 8562 – ‘a lovely disc’: see review) and his version of the Christmas story is coupled with Graupner’s Magnificat on ‘a splendid festive offering from Carus – albeit short value at forty five minutes’: Carus 83.417 – see review). Keiser was also the first composer to set the Brockes Passion, a text later employed by Fasch (recorded by Naxos on 8.570326 – see review), Telemann and Handel; perhaps Naxos will now record that, too.

There are two recordings of his St Mark Passion: the older Claves recording of his St Mark Passion is available from eMusic, albeit on 50 tracks, which will mean blowing your whole monthly £12 allocation in one go. The single-CD Christophorus recording on original instruments is, in any case, the one to go for, (CHR77143 – Parthenia Vocal and Parthenia Baroque/Christian Brembeck); it’s also available from classicsonline as a very acceptable 320k download. Bach certainly possessed a copy of this work and there are points of similarity with his St Matthew and St John settings, including the traditional tune of O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden – compare Keiser’s setting of Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden (track 5) with Bach’s. I’m sure that I shall be listening to it on future occasions.

Like those other two operas, Fredegunda (March, 1715) was composed for the Hamburg Oper am Gänsemarkt, or Goose-market Opera, where it was extremely popular, four years after Crœsus. The libretto is by Johann Ulrich von König (1688-1744) after an Italian libretto by Francesco Silvani (c.1660-c.1725). It is sung in German and Italian. The plot concerns the tempestuous relations between the sixth-century Frankish King Chilperich and his mistress Fredegunda; each of them has another lover, making for two sets of love triangles though all, of course, ends happily.

As usual, I set out first to test the claims made in the blurb on the rear insert, that this is ‘an important and entertaining ... opera [which] abounds in melodious, often ravishingly orchestrated, music.’ More crucially, do the performances do justice to the music?

Certainly the music is very attractive – listen to track 28 of CD1 Ricordati, ben mio (‘Remember, o my beloved’) for some of the finest baroque music – though the opera has its moments of longueur and there is no doubt that posterity has been correct in preferring Telemann and Handel. If you have already become familiar with their music, however, Fredegunda is well worth trying.

The opening Sonata goes with a real swing in this performance; there’s no stodginess here, but rather the kind of abandon at the start which I associate with modern Italian performances of baroque music. On the other hand, there’s enough contrast between the sections to avoid the problem of having everything too hurried, which I recently found with Collegium Musicum den Haag’s performance of Telemann’s Ebb und Fluth (L’Europe réunie, ORF SACD3008).

Dora Pavlíková as Fredegunda begins her opening recitative in fiery mood, too: at first she sounds almost too fiery to hit the notes securely, but soon settles down, especially in the aria Du verlachtest die Tränen (‘you mocked my tears’, CD1, track 3). After all, Fredegunda is a fiery character and she is chiding Chilperich for preferring Galsuinde – she opens the recitative by referring to him as Grausamer, ‘awful man’, and ends the ensuing aria by referring to his undoing their relationship mit deiner falschen Hand ‘with your faithless hand’.

Tomi Wendt’s Chilperich comes over as penny plain to Pavlíková’s twopenny coloured Fredegunda – I might have preferred him to be a little more sonorous and her a little less squally, but, again, this is not inappropriate to their roles – Chilperich is something of a wimp at this stage. By the time that we come to Fredegunda’s arias on tracks 20, (Ihr reizende Blicke, ‘your ravishing looks’) and 22, (Schließet euch, ihr holde Kerzen, ‘be extinguished, dearest candles’) Pavlíková is in much more mellifluous voice and Wendt’s Chilperich much firmer-toned. By track 24 (Zur Rache! ‘Revenge!’) both the character and Wendt’s voice have come much more to life.

The first notable aria is Galsuinde’s Lasciami piangere, ‘let me weep’ (CD1, track 7), and Bianca Koch sings it well. I might have preferred her to bring out its beauty a little more lovingly; it is, of course, a lament, but laments don’t have to be entirely squally. Galsuinde has some of the finest music – and the aria Ricordati, ben mio (CD1, tr.28), to which I have already referred as some of the finest baroque music, is sung by Koch in a manner which could hardly be bettered.

Michael Kranebitter as Sigibert, too, sings attractively, if a little too forthrightly: in his recitative Ich kann ja wohl die Zähren nicht verdammen (‘I cannot condemn the tears’, track8) he almost seems to have two different registers, one more attractive than the other. His diction is not exactly ideal: so keen is he to bring out the drama of his words that he sometimes fails to enunciate them perfectly. His aria Ich muß schweigend von dir gehen (‘I must be silent and leave you’, track 16) did not affect me as it should – here, more than anywhere, I felt that he was the weakest link in the cast, though not as disastrously so as Elisabeth Scholl, who is really off-form in Naxos’s recording of Handel’s Semele – don’t just take my word for it in my review; see also Robert Hugill’s review.

Katja Stuber as Bazina also has an attractive voice; in her first scene (track 9), however, she is slightly out-sung by Tomo Matsubara as Hermenegild. His voice has an attractive timbre, though his diction, too, is not perfect – he is not a native German-speaker. His aria Eine stolze Hand zu küssen (tr.11) illustrates both the attractiveness of his voice and his comparative failures of enunciation. If Stuber is a little reticent here, she is certainly in fine and powerful voice by track 30, giving Fredegunda as good as she gets in Du drohest and rasest (You threaten and rave). By this point, too, Kranebitter’s Sigibert has also warmed up somewhat; though I still found him a little too droopy in Ach betrachte doch die Wangen (tr.35 ‘Just look upon her cheeks’), his account of Mich schrecket kein Eifer, ich achte kein Drohen (tr.37, ‘Your overbearing threats do not frighten me’) is just right.

Tobias Haaks as Landerich is perhaps a little too forthright in the recitatives but he sings Ach, ich will viel lieber sterben (tr. 44, ‘Ah, I would much rather die’) in such a way as to make it one of the highlights of the first CD, almost at its close. If, as I suspect, the Chilperich-Fredegunda duet Vieni, o cara, o mio Tesoro (tr.48, ‘Come, my dear, my treasure’) which closes CD1, is meant to outshine Landerich – the few arias in Italian are some of the highlights of the music – it doesn’t succeed here: their singing sounds merely very decent by comparison, though they round off the act and the disc stylishly enough.

Matters are much the same on CD2, which begins quietly with the duet of Galsuinde and Bazina, Sanfte Lüfte (‘Gentle breezes’). There is some intrusive stage noise here – much than on CD1 – and in the ensuing scene. Bazina’s aria Ein Sklav’ ist mehr beglückt (tr.3, ‘a slave has greater fortune’) is a little underpowered. If Kranebitter is the weak link on CD1, he atones somewhat in Sigibert’s duet with Galsuinde (tr.5), though he is still a little too lugubrious and Koch’s Galsuinde still a little shrill.

Pavlíková’s Fredegunda, too, is just a little too shrill for my taste in Vieni a me (tr.7, ‘Come to me’) by contrast with the delicate accompaniment. It may be wishful thinking on my part, but she does seem to tone down the shrillness for the repeat of this aria (tr.11).

Wendt’s Childerich is in much better voice than he was on the earlier part of CD1. His aria threatening to react with slaughter of his foes, Con le stragi (tr.13) goes with quite a bang, as does Haaks in Landerich’s Da voi fieri guerrieri (tr.15, ‘Your beauteous eyes, proud warriors’). Both these Italian arias are among the high points of the opera, and both receive good performances.

Fredegunda’s invocation of Hecate (tr.17) is another high spot and here Pavlíková is in almost ideal voice despite some unusually intrusive stage noise. Yet she is able to achieve real tenderness a few moments after this outburst in Ach, nenne mich doch nur noch einmal Königin (tr.19, ‘Oh, let me just once more be called the queen’).

Matsubara really manages to convey Hermenegild’s indecision (tr.21, Ach nein, ich kann nicht entscheiden, ‘Ah. No, I cannot decide’) and does so with fewer problems of diction than before. Paradoxically, Kranebitter’s diction in Su’l mio crine (tr.23, ‘I shall be crowned with love’) is less than ideal.

Wendt, in Childerich’s aria bidding fortune do its worst, Weich immerhin zurück (tr.25) is affective, though not entirely tonally secure. Koch is equally affective and in better voice in Felice moriró (tr.30 ‘I shall die happy’). The whole opera is rounded off by a suitably jubilant performance of the short fifth act.

This, then, is not a ‘Sunday-best’ cast but it is a good, often very good, workaday one. It’s certainly good enough for me to predict that I shall return to it – and I shall follow with interest the careers of these singers, mostly still in their twenties.

Christoph Hammer’s direction is secure; his own solo keyboard performances have clearly prepared him well to lead the Munich Neue Hofkapelle. Though founded in 1992 to specialise in historically informed performances, their playing offers baroque music without any of the excesses which sometimes spoiled period performances in earlier days and still sometimes intrude where one least expects it – on Jordi Savall’s rather strident, but still enjoyable, version of Biber’s Missa Bruxellensis (AV9808) for example. Some of the accompaniment here is really sensitive, as in the case of Fredegunda’s aria Vieni a me (‘Come to me’, CD2, tr.7).

Apart from some very minimal stage noise and applause at the end of each CD, there is little to indicate that the recording was made live. That it was so helps in part to explain why some of the singers are a little slow off the mark at the beginning – in a studio performance, of course, there could have been retakes to round off some of the slightly rough edges. The recording itself is neutral in the best sense of the word.

The libretto, mostly in German but with sections in Italian, is available online as a pdf document but in portrait A4 – how do you get that into the CD case? – and there is no English translation, which is a problem, since even those with a decent knowledge of German may find the sometimes archaic diction hard to follow. It would be much better to offer the libretto as a download in landscape mode at a size capable of being cut, folded and inserted into the case – Naxos, please learn from Chandos, Gimell and Linn, who offer texts and notes in this manner with their downloads. Actually, it is possible to cut and paste the text into a Word document and print this in the correct format, but it is a nuisance to have to do so.

I would gladly have forfeited the booklet’s four-and-a-half pages of illustrations of the parent production, from the Bayerischer Theaterakademie August Everding, in favour of the libretto. These illustrations make me grateful to have received this recording on CD rather than DVD, since they show the production to have been the kind of up-dated version which I almost inevitably find annoying – featuring, in this case, a baby carriage and, apparently, the use of a taser.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International