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Bruno Walter Conducts Bruckner's 4th And 9th Symphonies
Music and Arts Programs of America · Jul 2012CD$32.99 -
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Schneider: Three Flute Concertos / Riet, Moesus, Württembergisches Kammerorchester Heilbronn
CPO · Jun 2022CD$18.99 -
SaleThe Oberlin Conservatory Symphony Orchestra at Carnegie Hall
Oberlin Music · May 2016CD$16.99$12.99 -
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SaleO schone Nacht: Romantic Choral Music / Alber, Orpheus Vokalensemble
Carus · Jul 2020CD$20.99$15.99 -
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Offenbach: Les Contes d'Hoffmann / Cambreling, Durlovski, Cutler, Homberger
BelAir Classiques · Sep 2015DVD$29.99 -
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Orpheus In England: Dowland & Purcell: Songs And Lute Music / Kirkby, Lindberg
BIS · Dec 2010CD$21.99 -
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Edition Staatskapelle Dresden, Vol. 40: Weber, Beethoven, Brahms / Haitink, Zimmerman
Profil · Jan 2017CD$24.99 -
Orbon, Villa-Lobos, Estavez, Chavez / Mata, Simón Bolivar Symphony
Sono Luminus · Jan 1990CD$18.99 -
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Marais: Cinquieme livre de pieces de viole / Joubert-Caillet, L'Acheron
Ricercar · Jun 2023CD$29.99
Bruno Walter Conducts Bruckner's 4th And 9th Symphonies
BRUCKNER Symphonies: No. 4; 1 No. 9. 2 MOZART Symphony No. 35 in D “Haffner” 3 • Bruno Walter, cond; 1 NBC SO. 2 Philadelphia O. 3 New York PO • MUSIC & ARTS CD-1262 (2 CDs: 127:30) Live: 1 02/10/1940, 2 02/28/1948, 3 02/06/1944
Having recently obtained an extensive collection of acetates from the estate of a private music collector, the Music & Arts label is issuing some fruits of that here in the form of live performances by Bruno Walter. Two items—the Bruckner Ninth and the Mozart “Haffner” symphonies—are previously unissued items; the Bruckner Fourth was released on Pearl GEMM CD 9131 but here enjoys slightly but tangibly superior sound. While still constricted, it is tolerably listenable by the standards one would expect for a recording of that vintage. Here the weak bass register is noticeably stronger and clearer, background hiss is slightly reduced, occasional fluctuations in pitch have been evened out, and assorted clicks and pops and similar extraneous noises excised or reduced. However, the Pearl release is still not superfluous, as this issue does not include the filler pieces by Weber and Smetana (the overtures to Oberon and The Bartered Bride ).
While none of these items is, strictly speaking, a novelty in the Walter discography, the performance of the Bruckner Fourth preserved here is of particular interest to both Brucknerians and Walterians. The Walter discography contains only two versions of this score: the live one presented here, and the conductor’s studio recording with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra, recorded from February 13-25, 1960. (The discography of the CSO is complex, because Columbia used that moniker for several different studio orchestras in various locales. In Walter’s case, the monaural recordings are with a reduced contingent of the New York Philharmonic and other local musicians, while his stereo recordings are with a core ensemble drawn from the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Festival Orchestra, supplemented by members of various Hollywood film studio orchestras.) The Sony SMK 64 481 issue of the studio performance is presently available—as are most of the titles in Sony’s erstwhile “Bruno Walter Edition”—as an ArkivMusic reprint.
What is most remarkable is how radically Walter’s conception of this piece changed over 20 years, with the respective timings providing an initial indication: 16:32, 14:32, 8:27, and 18:32 versus 18:40, 15:37, 10:59, and 20:46. Walter does use different editions of the score—the 1888-89 Löwe/Guttmann version in 1940, and the 1936 Haas edition of the 1878/80 version in 1960. (For the 1960 recording I am taking the word of John F. Berky on his abruckner.com discography site over that of Sony, which states in its CD booklet that Walter used the 1953 Nowak edition.) However, this in no way accounts for the differences, as most of them are matters of instrumental detail (e.g., the radically reduced orchestration in the Scherzo at 8:13-8:16 in the 1940 performance as compared to the same passage at 8:20-8:23 in the 1960 recording) rather than cuts in the score. Instead, Walter’s earlier interpretation is far more volatile, not only in terms of significantly faster tempi but also in more generous use of accelerandi and other tempo modifications. For example, in 1940 there is an adrenaline rush on an ascending scale from 1:41 to 1:52 not employed in 1960, while in the fourth movement the 1940 performance takes only a mild ritardando at 8:13 to 8:16 but in 1960 a very emphatic one in the same passage at 8:20 to 8:23. In 1940 the Scherzo movement is taken at an exceptionally brisk pace, whereas in 1960 it is stately, with the trio section being positively languorous. Similarly, whereas in 1960 Walter squares off phrases in the more emphatic manner common to most Bruckner performances nowadays, demarcating discrete units as aural equivalents of the giant stone blocks used to construct Gothic cathedrals, in 1940 the phrasing is noticeably more fluid and linear, particularly in woodwind runs that ripple like rapidly flowing rivulets (cf. at 15:24 in the first movement). How much these changes owe to the oft-noted differences in Walter’s recordings made before and after his March 1957 heart attack, and how much they may owe to the conductor possibly seeking to elaborate greater distinctions between his approaches to Bruckner and Mahler, can only be a subject of speculation. In any case, in these respects the 1940 performance is akin to the relatively few complete Bruckner symphony performances that survive from before WW II, and suggest an earlier school of performance which is now well-nigh extinct. Both for that reason, and for the intriguing snapshot of how Walter’s interpretation of this piece shifted over the years, this recording is of particular interest for collectors of historical performances.
The companion performance in this set of the Bruckner Ninth lacks the same degree of intrinsic value, in that there are eight surviving recorded performances from Walter’s baton, variously given with the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, Vienna Philharmonic, Los Angeles Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. The table below provides details for comparison. In this and the succeeding tables, if a particular performance has appeared more than once on CD, I have cited the best version currently in print; studio recordings are marked with an asterisk. For the timings in this instance, I have used those provided by Mark W. Kluge in his notes to the 2003 Music and Arts release of the 1946 performance, except for the 1948 and 1950 performances not listed by him.
FANFARE: Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings
03/17/46 NYP Music & Arts CD-1110 21:42 9:37 19: 42
02/28/48 PO Music & Arts CD-1262 21:19 9:43 19:28
02/02/50 NYP none (private collection) 20:12 9:55 19: 15
08/20/53 VPO Andromeda ANDRCD 9092 21:10 10:09 19:17
12/27/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571 20:32 10:09 19:46
02/10/57 NYP Music & Arts CD-1212 19:59 10:01 19: 14
11/13/59 LAP none (private collection) 22:30 10:53 21: 58
11/16-19/59 CSO Sony SMK 64 483* 23:51 11:29 23:16
As Kluge rightly states in the booklet notes to the 2003 disc of Walter’s 1946 performance, “Walter’s live performances of the Ninth Symphony preserved on tape show a certain consistency, varying in individual nuance rather than interpretive outline”. In the booklet notes to the present release he further observes, “All of his live performances of the score display certain common interpretive details,” of which he provides several examples, such as “the very precise (almost clipped) brass interjections in the opening bars.” Unremarked upon by Kluge, except for a passing observation that the studio account “lacks the fire of Walter’s live performances,” is the extraordinary speed and drive of Walter’s conception of the work, which in the pre-1959 performances clocks in at between 49:22 (the fastest recorded performance by any conductor) and 51:01. Among the almost 400 complete performances listed in the abruckner.com discography, only Volkmar Andreae, Jascha Horenstein, Georg-Ludwig Jochum, Roger Norrington, plus (amazingly) John Barbirolli and Hans Knappertsbusch, have timings within three minutes of Walter. This work alone gives the lie to the stereotype of Walter as a cushy, gentle interpreter given solely to Gemütlichkeit rather than Sturm und Drang.
Despite their overall similarity, the pre-1959 performances do not suffer from lack of variety or interest. With the exception of the live 1959 performance, which stems from a relatively poor source, the sound quality improves incrementally with the more recent performance date, though the sonic differences between the three performances from 1953-57 are rather minimal. For me, the key factor in evaluating the first six performances is Walter’s approach to and follow-through from the fortissimo recapitulation of the first theme of the opening movement, beginning at about halfway through the movement. For the approach to the recapitulation, the recap itself, and the section immediately thereafter, Walter demarcates each of the three sections with a marked caesura and tempo adjustment. There are noticeable differences to how he does this in several of the performances; although these may simply be differences of the moment, they suggest instead that he was not entirely satisfied with his handling of these sections and was constantly searching for new and better solutions. I find the 1946 performance to be the least satisfactory; as the timing of the first movement indicates, Walter there inserts greater pauses and slows down each section more than usual, causing the whole to lose coherency and momentum and to bog down. Walter also takes two major ritardandi early on, at 1:55 and 3:00, that he drops after the 1948 Philadelphia performance, which has a similarly hobbling effect. (For a more positive response, see Robert McColley’s review back in 26:6.) By contrast, the unreleased 1950 performance is the most successful, having a fierce energy and the least pronounced breaks and tempo deceleration.
The three performances from 1948 and 1953 occupy a middle ground between these extremes; here the differences are to be found more in the distinctive timbres of the respective orchestras. In his booklet notes to the 1946 performance, Kluge states that “the warmer style of the Vienna Philharmonic added a sense of plasticity and nuance not as evident in the later [1953] New York performance,” given the latter orchestra’s “virile, even aggressive playing style.” I would agree, but I find a certain slackness present in the Vienna performance as well, and its recorded sound is slightly more recessed. Comparing the New York and Philadelphia ensembles in the present booklet notes, Kluge correctly finds “a contrast in style between the two ensembles. The Philharmonic sonority is bold and brassy, making the most of Bruckner’s dramatic climaxes. However the Philadelphia ensemble, even in its first encounter with the score, adds a patina of refinement”—due no doubt to the orchestra’s fabled string section. Finally, in 1957 Walter attempts a hybrid solution that combines pronounced Luftpausen with his briskest tempi, a solution I prefer to all but the 1950 performance (see also the positive review by Jeffrey J. Lipscomb in 32: 3).
The two 1959 performances are, as their timings indicate, of a very different character—ultimately no less dramatic, but more monumental and in line with the mainstream of Bruckner interpretations, while also evincing the more rounded edges of Walter’s trademark lyricism in other repertoire. Given both the relatively poor sound of the preceding live performance, and some ill-fitting junctures in it that suggest Walter’s new interpretation not to be fully settled, the studio recording is easily preferable between those two. Along with the 1957 performance—and that of 1950, for those few who can find it from private sources—the studio recording is also one of the top choices for Brucknerians who want Walter represented in their collections.
Despite Walter’s intense devotion to Bruckner following his recovery from a near-fatal bout of double pneumonia in 1927 (Walter credited his convalescence with giving him the spiritual repose needed to comprehend Bruckner rightly), many commentators have regarded his studio Bruckner recordings, especially that of the Ninth, as relative weak points in his discography. Devoted Walterian that I am, I nevertheless agree with that assessment; Walter never mastered the timing of the numerous pauses in Bruckner’s symphonic movements, and choosing the manifold subtle shifts in tempi needed to make the sprawling movements cohere, to the same degree as did Wilhelm Furtwängler and Eugen Jochum, my own Bruckner reference standards. Part of the fault here, however, lies not with Walter but with Columbia’s miscalculated decision to use an orchestra of only 65 players for the recording sessions—possibly due to a degree of parsimony, but also because the extremely lively acoustics of Legion Hall would have caused a full-sized orchestra to be swamped with reverberation. The fact that Walter almost fully succeeds in disguising the paucity of string players and producing a genuine Brucknerian orchestral sound testifies to near-miraculous conductorial skills.
The 1948 performance of the Bruckner Ninth in Philadelphia was paired in concert with a performance of Mozart’s “Haffner” Symphony. Since only the Bruckner was broadcast for a one-hour time slot, the performance of the Mozart was not preserved. In its stead, Music and Arts has thoughtfully provided a previously unreleased 1944 New York Philharmonic broadcast of the work. Mozart occupies a large and special place in Walter’s discography. In terms of frequency of surviving performances, the “Haffner” has seven recordings—five live and two studio, with the NBC Symphony, Boston Symphony, New York Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. It thus ranks behind No. 40 (eleven performances, eight live and three studio) and No. 39 (eight recordings, five live and three studio), and is tied with the “Prague” (seven recordings, four live and three studio). The following table again provides details for comparison; note that Tahra misdates the 1953 performance to January 5 instead of January 4.
Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings
02/17/40 NBC SO Andromeda ANDRCD 9012 5:02 4:31 3:10 3: 33
02/06/44 NYP Music and Arts CD-1262 5:15 4:44 3:16 3: 33
01/21/47 BSO Wing WCD 58 (Japan) 5:11 4:29 3:17 3:37
02/05/50 NYP none (private collection) 5:33 5:05 3: 25 3:43
01/04/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571-572 5:29 4:54 3:33 3:55
01/16/53 NYP Sony SMK 64 473* 5:27 4:44 3:21 3:46
01/13-21/59 CSO Sony SM3K 46 511* 5:58 5:13 3:49 4:04
Here one notes that until the final, post-heart attack, stereo recording, Walter’s interpretive approach remains remarkably consistent, broadening very slightly in tempi with the passing years. As before, sound quality generally improves in successive performances, save for the decidedly poor-sounding Boston Symphony issue and the somewhat tubby sound of the unedited source for the 1950 performance. Yet here, too, there are subtle differences, with the 1944 performance under review being the most distinctive. At 1:15 in the first movement, Walter slows the tempo for the lyrical counter-subject to a far greater degree than elsewhere, and likewise beginning at 4:40 accelerates the tempo to a far greater degree to provide a whirlwind close. Not unexpectedly from an ensemble drilled under Toscanini, the NBC performance features particularly strong, crisp accents on chords and fluid runs on strings and winds. The live 1953 performance has a higher voltage than the studio recording that followed it, though it suffers from a rather glassy, shrill treble register (for a different opinion on the last point, see Mortimer H. Frank’s review in 14:4). The stereo recording has of course by far the best sound, but its slower tempi drain it of the vitality characteristic of Walter’s earlier performances. The 1944 performance is in surprisingly good sound for its time, and I would rate it alongside the two 1953 versions as the best of his performances of this work.
The remasterings of the original sources have obviously been done with the meticulous care that marks all Music and Arts issues. Mark Kluge’s booklet notes are exemplary; they include a brief discussion of recent Bruckner scholarship that defends the Löwe/Guttmann edition of the Fourth as one genuinely authorized by Bruckner rather than riding roughshod over his true intentions, and also discuss Walter’s various retouchings of the timpani and brass parts in different performances of the Ninth. (Kluge does not discuss the 1950 performance, but the excision of the trombone parts from certain passages of the Scherzo that occurs in the 1957 and 1959 performances also occurs there, though curiously not in the intervening ones from 1953.) The booklet and tray card have a typographical error that gives the total time of the second disc as 50:30, which is the timing of the Bruckner Ninth alone; the correct total time is 68:20. For Walterians, this release is self-recommending; for Brucknerians and collectors of historic performances, it will be of interest primarily for the Bruckner Fourth, and secondarily for the “Haffner” and the Ninth. To each of these interested parties, this release is warmly recommended.
James A. Altena
Marais: Pieces de Viole, Livre II / Joubert-Caillet, L'Acheron
The Music Of Fred Lerdahl / Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, Et Al
Fred Lerdahl is one of the least known among “major” American composers. Lerdahl’s music is greatly admired by cognoscenti, and his theoretical writings are among the most important of the latter 20th century, but his music remains less known to the general public, perhaps because of its non-doctrinaire stance. A Lerdahl composition might at any moment be tonal or atonal, it might luxuriate in Lerdahl’s rich melodic and harmonic gifts, or it might make reference to various musics of our past. Pulitzer prize-winning composer Paul Moravec writes that: “The deep, fresh, inspired music of Fred Lerdahl is a beacon for listeners making their way forward through the millenium’s strange and wonderful landscape of the imagination. Organic images express the way in which Lerdahl’s music seems so right as it unfolds in time, giving the impression of inexorability.” Time After Time, a Pulitzer prize finalist, is for the familiar ‘Pierrot plus percussion’ formation. In two movements, the eighteen and a half minute composition employs spiral forms, in which simple ideas become elaborated and more complex with each cycle. Marches for clarinet, violin, cello, and piano is a phantasmagoria of over-laid march-like ideas. One can feel the presence of Sousa and Mahler, lurking in the wings as Lerdahl creates an overall mood that veers between humor and fervent instrumental brilliance. Lerdahl's Oboe Quartet was composed for La Fenice, the ensemble that performs it here. Led by the superb oboist Peggy Pearson, the quartet integrates the oboe into the ensemble in a single 13 minute movement whose overall mood is playful with occasional dark undertones. Waves for chamber orchestra simply must be heard to be believed. Given a stunningly controlled reading by the conductor-less Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, this recording is a re-mastered release of the out-of-print Deutsche Grammophon recording.
Auber: La Part du Diable
The minstrel Carlo Broschi has hidden his sister Casilda in a convent to protect her from the machinations of the clergy who wish to make a present of her for King Ferdinand VI. In Carlo's opinion, she is in love with an unknown cavalier - likewise too highborn to have any lawful intentions toward her. Carlo happens upon the King, who is possessed by melancholy and succeeds in cheering him with a song (It was, in fact, Ferdinand's predecessor Philip V, for whom Farinelli was engaged as a music therapist). As a reward, he is invited to the court, where he encounters his sister's lover, Raphael d'Estuniga. Raphael is so despondent over his thwarted passion that he is ready to sell his soul, so Carlo introduces himself as Satan, ready to lend aid for half of his takings. Casilda appeals to Carlo for protection; she has been kidnapped by the priests and brought to the king, who, only recently having recovered his sanity, takes her for a ghost. Carlo leaves to speak with the queen (Louise-Rosalie Lefebvre created this role Louise-Rosalie Lefebvre) and leaves the lovers alone. Raphael, who has obtained an office due to Carlo's influence and has had uncommon luck at gambling, is so confident of supernatural aid that he is nonplussed at the king's entrance, even when the latter orders his death. Carlo attempts to smooth things over by telling the king Raphael is her husband, but the Grand Inquisitor exposes the fabrication, enraging the king against Carlo as well. Things can only be put right by Carlo's revealing all and reminding the king that the queen still suspects nothing. Carlo, who has never hesitated to claim his 50%, tells his future brother-in-law that his share will be Casilda's happiness this time.
Lebrun: Oboe Concertos
Classical-era oboe concertos, full of flourish and elegantly turned melodies in polished and critically praised recordings from 2000-2. ‘This repertoire certainly deserves your attention,’ wrote the Fanfare reviewer when this album was first issued, ‘for it is an excellent alternative - even a potent supplement - to the Mozart oboe concerto.’ He went on to praise the ‘fine tone’ and ‘impressive technique’ of the soloist, American oboist Nancy Ambrose King. The Janácek Philharmonic play with ‘verve, fine drama, and an excellent sense of unity from beginning to end,’ conducted by Jeremy Swerling who ‘keeps a nice grip on the proceedings, but also allows some flexibility in the way things are done.’ As to the repertoire itself: Ludwig August Lebrun (1752-1790) was an oboist by training, and the son of an oboist at the Mannheim court, Alexander Lebrun. Ludwig evidently wrote these concertos, and another 10 in the same vein, in order to showcase his own abilities on an instrument which was evolving rapidly in terms of technical innovation (projecting further, with more reliable tone) and thus allowing for greater virtuosity on behalf of both composers and performers.
There are four concertos here, and they all adhere to the standard three-movement form and belong to the idiom of the Mannheim school exemplified by exemplified by the likes of Danzi (whose daughter Lebrun married) and Cannabich. There are delicate melodies as well as spectacular virtuosity in music filled with imagination, humour, and depth, not to mention the occasional unexpected turn of phrase. These are not miniature or insignificant pieces. The opening G minor piece is developed with the kind of pathos we associate with the key in the hands of Mozart, and after two F major concertos, the album concludes with a poignant and stern D minor concerto, punctuated by trumpet and drums, and enclosing a noble Grazioso slow movement where the oboe sings like an abandoned operatic heroine.
Dvořák: Der Jakobiner / Albrecht, WDR Sinfonieorchester Köln
REVIEW:
Orfeo's ongoing series of major Dvorák operas and choral works constitutes a genuinely important contribution to the history of recordings, and I hope that it will continue as successfully as it has to this point. There is no other way to get fully acceptable, modern performances of masterworks such as Vanda, or St. Ludmila, and this new recording of The Jacobin, the first in many decades, may be the best of all. There's no other opera quite like it. As a comedy with serious elements, you really would have to go back to Mozart to find anything similar, even though the rustic village setting and plot remain very different from anything that you would have found in an 18th-century setting.
The story is simple, but quite moving. Count Harasov has disowned his only son Bohus as a result of his pro-revolutionary (French) sympathies, which have been exaggerated and distorted by the presciently-named Adolf, the count's nephew and now his presumptive heir. With the death of his wife the count wishes to retire and leave Adolf in charge, along with his pompous henchman, the Burgomaster Filip, who has his sights set on the lively and luscious Terinka, daughter of the village music master Benda. Terinka wanted to marry Jirí, a young hothead and (not incidentally) Benda's prized tenor. Into this situation step Bohus and his French wife Julia, refugees who in fact have a price on their heads arising from their opposition to the atrocities committed in the name of the Revolution.
The ultimate reconciliation between father and son is the primary theme of the opera, but it also has important sub-themes: love of one's country, the love of Benda for his daughter, the conflict between generations, the triumph of egalitarian ideals, and everyone's love of music. It is in fact music, in the form of the dead countess' lullaby sung by Julia to the embittered count, that brings about the happy ending. There's also a brilliant set-piece rehearsal (at the beginning of Act 2) of a homage cantata composed by Benda. It's fabulous. All of the characters, save for the evil Adolph, are fully fleshed out human beings, and the music follows the twists and turns of the plot with the sure hand of a master. The distribution of voices also is very effective: Filip is a bass; the Count, Bohus, and Adolph are baritones; Jirí and Benda are tenors, while Julia and Terinka are sopranos. This makes for some wonderful ensemble writing both with and without the chorus. It is simply impossible to listen to this piece and not conclude that Dvorák was as fine a composer of opera as he was at just about everything else that he touched.
With only a single (but excellent) previous recording available on Supraphon, there's not much competition in this piece, but this newcomer is every bit as fine as its predecessor. Among the women, Andrea Danková's Julia stands out for her beautiful tone and the conviction she brings to her Act 3 confrontation with the count, also very well sung by Christoph Stephinger. Marcin Bronikowski brings virility and intelligence to his portrait of Bohus, and his singing (along with Danková) of the big Act 2 duet "We have wandered in foreign lands" is both moving and impassioned. Michal Lehotsky and Lívia Ághová make a lively pair of young lovers, and Peter Mikulás makes Filip sound aptly bombastic without hamming it up too much.
Gerd Albrecht leads the entire cast, choirs, and orchestra in as vital and persuasive an account of the score as did his counterpart on Supraphon, Jirí Pinkas, and he has much better sonics and the excellent Cologne Radio Orchestra at his disposal. The libretto includes a full English translation and excellent notes. The only problem I can see is that at three CDs, this is an expensive set. Lasting two and a half hours, the work just barely fits on two discs, which is how Supraphon presents it (the timings are virtually identical in comparison), but the quality of the results here justifies the premium price. After all, until the rest of the world wakes up to just how great this work is and starts producing it as often as we see Rusalka, we're not exactly spoiled for choice, and I feel confident that you will fall in love with the music and play it often. So go ahead: treat yourself. This is what recordings are for.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com (10/10)
Auber: La Muette De Portici / Hermus, Anhaltische Philharmonie Dessau
AUBER La Muette de Portici • Antony Hermus, cond; Diego Torre ( Masaniello ); Oscar de la Torre ( Alphonse ); Angelina Ruzzafante ( Elvire ); Wiard Witholt ( Pietro ); Anhaltische PO & Op Ch • CPO 777694 (2 CDs: 135:09 & French only) Live: Dessau 5/24–26/2011
Hard for us to believe nowadays, but in its time Daniel-François-Esprit Auber’s opera La Muette de Portici (The Mute Girl of Portici) was to the Belgian fight for independence what Verdi’s Nabucco was to become a dozen years later for Italy—possibly even more so, since its Brussels premiere led directly to a public revolution on the very night the opera was given. The rebel leader tossed his red Jacobin cap into the air at the sight and sound of every appearance of the rebel Masaniello and his followers onstage; immediately after the performance, huge, unexpected mobs formed in the streets and marched into the office of the government newspaper Le National, smashing windows. All night long the victorious rebels loudly sang the passage from the opera declaring that nothing is more glorious than dying for one’s fatherland. Talk about a wildly successful premiere!
Very briefly, the plot concerns Alphonse, son of the Spanish Viceroy of Naples. He is in love with the mute girl Fenella, sister of a fisherman named Masaniello who becomes the leader of the peasants’ revolt (this is based on real events of 1647), but his father coerces him into marrying the more socially acceptable Elvire. Yet Fenella, imprisoned by Alphonse’s father, manages to escape and begs Elvire to help her. Fenella witnesses Alphonse’s marriage and is stunned to discover that Elvire is the bride, but the latter keeps her promise to help her and Alphonse, still in love with Fenella, also helps her escape. Masaniello and his fishermen plan for the revolution; when Alphonse and Elvire are captured, she begs the rebel leader to help them escape, and he does so before learning who they really are. When his actions are discovered, Masaniello is considered a traitor by the rebels and poisoned by his rival leader, Pietro; but this must be a rather odd, weak, and slow-acting poison, because Masaniello doesn’t die but just goes mad. Oddly enough, the peasants still trust him to lead them into battle, which he does. Fleeing from him this time, Elvire tries to convince Fenella to escape with her, but the mute girl learns that her brother was killed by his own men when he tried once again to protect Elvire and takes her own life.
Listening to the opera, especially as well and tautly conducted as it is by Antony Hermus, one is continually struck by the impressive and original music with which Auber graced this plot. Unlike so many Auber opera arias I’ve heard (think of “L’eclat de rire” from his Manon Lescaut ), this music demands that rare combination of vocal agility and flexibility with dramatic declamation. And let me tell you, this music is hard to sing: just listen to Elvire’s act 1 aria, “O moment enchanteur,” and you’ll hear what I mean. Angelina Ruzzafante, like so many of her soprano sisters nowadays (think of Barbara Frittoli or Patricia Racette), has a good enough technique to cope with the music’s difficulties and acts very well with the voice (a real necessity in this opera), yet has an inconsistent and sometimes acidic tone in the upper register (which does improve tonally as the performance goes on). This, however, is not entirely a detriment to a role which, like the opera itself, calls for drama over sheer vocalism, and the almost relentless drive of Auber’s music, in this opera at least, is a major factor in determining the prescribed style in which it is to be performed.
Tenor Oscar de la Torre, as Alphonse, has slightly tight voice production but superb phrasing, excellent declamation, and high notes in abundance—and he needs every last one of them, as they are written into the score and not optional. The other tenor, Diego Torre as Masaniello, has a similarly light, bright voice, and to my ears a more even tone production. Both are excellent in what they do. In fact, the only really poor voice in the cast is that of Masaniello’s rival, Pietro, sung by baritone Wiard Witholt.
The only other complete commercial recording of this opera that I could track down was the one made in September 1996 (EMI) with a considerably over-the-hill Alfredo Kraus and, though she was much younger, an already over-the-hill June Anderson (who also had, in my estimation, ZERO excitement as an interpreter); this is therefore clearly the better of the two recordings. (Since Kraus wanted to sing Masaniello’s famous aria, “Du pauvre seul ami fidèle,” he took that role, giving the equally cruel tessitura of Alphonse to a good but not great tenor, John Aler.)
There are two negatives, only one of which really affects us as listeners: 1) the stage production seems to have been updated to represent a gang war, as Masaniello is wearing a do-rag and a sleeveless T-shirt with “FSBN Bulldogs” proudly printed on it, and 2) the libretto is in French only. Other than that, this recording is a must-get for any lovers of truly dramatic opera of the ottocento period. This music is so great as to almost beggar belief, driving forward with an impulse that is sheerly visceral and practically irresistible. After hearing it, I almost wanted to go out and smash a government newspaper window myself! Go for it!
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Schneider: Three Flute Concertos / Riet, Moesus, Württembergisches Kammerorchester Heilbronn
Boito: Nerone
O schone Nacht: Romantic Choral Music / Alber, Orpheus Vokalensemble
Auber: La Sirene / Reiland, Orchestre des Frivolites Parisiennes
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REVIEW:
The performances on this premiere recording are modest but engaging and entertaining as well. David Reiland secures bright and breezy playing from his appropriately named Orchestre des Frivolités Parisiennes. Jeanne Crousaud doesn’t quite live up the idealised Siren of the title but sings with charm, as do the two tenors, Xavier Flabat and Jean-Noël Teyssier. The lower men’s voices sing characterfully, as do Les Métaboles, even if some of their contributions get a little lost in the rough-and-tumble.
– Gramophone
BACH: SONATAS & RONDOS
Piano Quartets & String Trio
Offenbach: Les Contes d'Hoffmann / Cambreling, Durlovski, Cutler, Homberger
Although posthumous, 'The Tales of Hoffmann' is considered as the masterpiece of Jacques Offenbach’s work and mixes love, pain and whim. The intrigue settles around three stories about a broken love. Told by Hoffmann, narrator and hero, these tales paint a portrait of three feminine figures: Olympia the automaton, Antonia the dying opera singer and Giulietta the courtesan. This triptych allows the development of very different universes, and colour. It’s also a declension of the image of woman and of evil.
Christoph Marthaler signed this creation for the Teatro Real. This was Gerard Mortier’s last commission for this stage: the Swiss director has proven his ease in many different registers. An essential capacity needed for a work as rich and subtle as 'The Tales of Hoffmann'. Music is conducted by Sylvain Cambreling and the cast includes Eric Cutler, Anne Sofie von Otter, Measha Brueggergosman and Jean-Philippe Lafont.
Running time: 193 minutes
Subtitles: French, German, English, Spanish
Format: 16/9, NTSC, Sound Dolby digital 2.0/5.1
Marais: Viola da Gamba Pieces, Vol. 4 / Joubert-Caillet, L'Achéron
Marin Marais published his Quatrième Livre de Pièces de Viole two years after the death of Louis XIV, establishing himself as the undisputed master of the genre and providing pieces not only for musicians who had achieved some skill on the viol but also for the most virtuoso players. Here Marais reshaped the classical forms, altering the traditional sequence for the suites and making an increasing use of character pieces. The sometimes whimsical imagery and the new freedom of form that these pieces contain reach their peak in the astonishing Suitte d'un goût étranger; these thirty or so pieces employ as yet unheard-of keys and offer a multitude of characters and representations that can tend towards the exotic. Breaking further new ground, and somewhat influenced by the Italian trio, Marais ended the Quatrième Livre with two suites for three viols, a genre he claimed to be new to France.
A Consort's Monument / Joubert-Caillet, L'Acheron
Orpheus In England: Dowland & Purcell: Songs And Lute Music / Kirkby, Lindberg
DOWLAND Songs and Lute Solos. PURCELL Songs and Lute Solos • Emma Kirkby (sop); Jakob Lindberg (lt) • BIS CD 1725 (75:19 Text and Translation)
It is almost superfluous to add a review to the header, for this disc provides exactly what the listing promises. There are nine songs and five solo lute pieces by Dowland, and seven songs and seven solo lute pieces by Purcell, culled from various sources, in performances by two of the greatest artists of our time that simply are beyond exquisite in every way. All is subtlety, refinement, delicacy, intimacy, and deeply penetrating expressiveness, in which every word, every inflection, and every chord takes its share and lightly carries its burden. Above all, it is art that is utterly natural and free from self-conscious artifice. If somehow you have never broached this repertoire or these performers before now, look no further for a starting point and take the plunge immediately. Those with prior acquaintance will need no further urging from me to regard this as an essential acquisition. The recorded sound is fairly close, with a pleasant and not excessive degree of warmth and reverberation. Intelligent program notes and full texts are provided. Highest possible recommendation, and an immediate nominee for the Classical Hall of Fame.
FANFARE: James A. Altena
Kapsperger: Intavolatura Di Chitarrone - Theorbo Music / Nordberg
At the end of the 16th century, the pursuit of greater, more vivid expressivity dominated music-making all across Italy, taking madrigals and other vocal ensemble forms as its starting point but soon going on to explore the possibilities offered by solo singing. For some decades the theorbo (or chitarone, as it was also called) was regarded as the ideal instrument for accompanying singers, but as a leading exponent of the instrument Giovanni Girolamo Kapsperger soon also established it as a solo instrument in its own right. Of German descent, Kapsperger published his first book of solo pieces for the theorbo in 1604 and went on to enjoy a successful career in Rome, contributing to the monumental cultural programme of Pope Urban VIII. There he moved in intellectual circles, particularly that of the scientist Galileo Galilei. During the 1630s things became quiet for Kapsperger, possibly a side effect of Galilei’s conviction for heresy in 1633. Not until 1640 did his last known volume of theorbo pieces appear, the number four in its title indicating that two books have been lost. A particularly attractive aspect of Kapsperger’s music for the theorbo is the marked contrasts between dramatic and impetuous toccatas, straightforward, ‘no-nonsense’ passacaglias and rhythmically refined but simply constructed dance movements such as galliards. These are here all made to sound under the fingers of Jonas Nordberg, sought-after as soloist as well as ensemble musician, performing on a wide range of plucked instruments including the lute, guitar and theorbo. On BIS he has previously appeared on the acclaimed album Heroines with soprano Ruby Hughes and in chamber works with recorder player Dan Laurin.
Edition Staatskapelle Dresden, Vol. 40: Weber, Beethoven, Brahms / Haitink, Zimmerman
The works on this release were performed in the Dresden Staatskapelle’s second symphony concert of the 2002/2003 season on September 29 and 30 and October 2, 2002. It was Bernard Haitink’s first subscription concert as Principal Conductor of the orchestra, after he had spontaneously declared his willingness to take over this position and support the Staatskapelle in the difficult situation that had arisen following the sudden death of Giuseppe Sinopoli the previous year. It still seems a stroke of luck for Dresden, and in particular for its orchestra, that it could find a personality of such international standing who had a deep understanding both of the Staatskapelle’s great tradition and of its special character and thus was uniquely qualified to maintain and enhance its high artistic level, its individual sound and its worldwide reputation. Orchestra and conductor had known each other since 1989 from recordings and concerts at home and abroad. This then was the beginning of a sustained, if all too short, period of continuous work togheter, which wonderfully met the highest expectations “at home” and on tour in Europe and the Far East.
Froberger Edition, Vol. 3: Hommage a l'Empereur
This is the third volume of the Froberger Edition, and completes the set. Containing the complete Libro Quarto and the suites XV and XVII, this album showcases these mature works. For this recording, harpsichordist Bob van Asperen performs on a historic French harpsichord of an unknown maker, dating around 1700. The works were recorded in the incredible acoustics of the “sala nobile” of the Villa Medici, Rome. This release includes a 48 page booklet in which Bob van Asperen comments on works recently ascribed to Froberger.
Robert Schumann: Der Rose Pilgerfahrt & Requiem
Marais: Cinquieme livre de pieces de viole / Joubert-Caillet, L'Acheron
Marin Marais published his last collection in 1725, eight years after the appearance of his Quatrième Livre de Pièces de Viole. He was no longer playing in the Chambre du Roi by that time and had moved to a house in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau where he cultivated plants and flowers in his garden. He continued, however, to give lessons to people who wanted to improve their viol playing. The Cinquième Livre de Pièces de Viole reflects this image of a peaceful life; today we regard it as the final testament of a musician who was looking back upon his past years as their undisputed master — and which he remains today.