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Bach, Boccherini, Brouwer, et al.: Musical Landscapes / Cracow Guitar Quartet
DUX · Jul 2022CD$21.99 -
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Meyerbeer: Music For Festive Occasions / Jurowski, NDR Radio Philharmonic Hannover
CPO · Jan 1900CD$18.99 -
Klughardt: Lenore - Symphonic Poem, Op. 27; Gernsheim: At A Drama / Mayrhofer, Anhaltische Philharmonic
Sterling Records · Aug 2013CD$20.99 -
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Gluck: Iphigenie En Aulide, Iphigenie En Tauride / Minkowski, Gens, Delunsch
Opus Arte · Mar 2013DVD$39.99 -
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RHEA ENCHANTED (SOLO VIOLA)
Monferrato: Motetti a voce sola, libro primo, Op. 4
Tales of Light and Darkness
Bach, Boccherini, Brouwer, et al.: Musical Landscapes / Cracow Guitar Quartet
The album Musical Landscapes contains a carefully thought over and set together group of eight compositions. The latter are formative of a specific music journey that spreads out from north to south and from west to east. This journey integrates diversity and beauty of art experience: from musical subtleties through grandeur of sounds, up to Spanish guitar temperament, from raindrops to storms with hailstones, from corta figure to sonorism. The selected compositions are, on one part, the most prominent works of world music in new arrangements and, on the other, the rarely performed pieces that were originally composed for the four-guitar ensemble. The presented transcriptions, full of the four musicians’ creative solutions and conceptions make up a new repertoire characteristic of fairly individual and authorial traits. The keynote of the project is the landscape conceived of in variety of manners.
Brahms, Berio, & Glanert / Elts, Helsinki Philharmonic
This recording includes a fascinating program: Luciano Berio's iconic adaptation of Johannes Brahms' Clarinet Sonata No. 1 combined with Detlev Glanert's recent arrangement of Brahms' late vocal masterpiece, Four Serious Songs. Also included is Glanert's new orchestral work Weites Land written in the spirit of Brahms. This disc includes as its soloists award-winning clarinetist Kari Kriikku and German baritone Michael Nagy. This is the second release of Estonian conductor Olari Elts together with the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra. Detlev Glanert was, like Brahms, born in Hamburg. A pupil of Diether de la Motte and Hans Werner Henze, Glanert has long felt a deep connection with Brahms' music through "a specific North German tradition, in which I believe myself to be connected with Brahms, to do with a melancholy in his pieces, with a certain severity." Luciano Berio was commissioned by the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra in 1986 to provide an orchestral version of the first of the two late sonatas Brahms composed in 1894, two years prior to the Serious Songs. Berio created a 25-minute concerto, although retaining the designation "Sonata". Berio's treatment of Brahms' was highly respectful and straightforward and the solo part is almost identical with the origina lsonata.
LIVE IN LOS ANGELES: 1978-1981 (BOX SET)
Prokofiev: Romeo & Julia; Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4
The Virtuoso ophicleide
ELEMENTS OF LIGHT
Bach: The Brandenburg Concertos & Ouvertures / Bernardini, Zefiro
While pursuing its constant search for music to study and rediscover, Zefiro undertook another important challenge by recording, in 2017 and 2015 respectively, the Brandenburg Concertos and Overtures, two pinnacles of the 18th-century instrumental literature. For this project Alfredo Bernardini waited until he could count on a select band of musicians who were not only in a perfect symbiosis of spirit and intent, but also equipped with the indispensable virtuosity and long-standing familiarity with the works. Thanks to the historical insight and human energy displayed by the ensemble, the interpretative results are both vivid and profoundly moving.
The recordings acquired not only prestigious awards such as Gramophone’s Editor’s Choice, Diapason d’or, Choc de Classica and Toccata’s CD of the month, but also specific acknowledgements for Overtures nos. 3 (France Musique) and 4 (SRF 2 Kultur), judged to be the best-ever versions. After being out of the catalogue for some time, they are now gathered together for the first time in an elegant box set.
Stockhausen: Klavierstucke I-VIII & XI / Tudor
Stockhausen calls his piano pieces his "drawings", the pieces in which he sketches out ideas without the added color complexity of instrumental timbres. More significantly, in these early pieces you can hear a composer grappling with the challenge of electronic sound, looking for "envelope curves" that will allow the old medium to compete with the new. As played by David Tudor in this historic recording, the piano gives its answer to the synthesizer. David Tudor is without question one of the premier figures in the performance of new music since the middle of this century. As a pianist, Tudor gave highly acclaimed first performances of works by contemporary composers Pierre Boulez, Earle Brown, Sylvano Bussotti, John Cage, Morton Feldman, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Christian Wolff, Stephan Wolpe, and La Monte Young, among others. As a composer, Tudor chose specific electronic components and their interconnections to define both composition and performance drawing upon resources that were both flexible and complex.
W. F. Bach: Organ Works / Julia Brown
The CPO disc promises us "the complete organ works" by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. This has to be taken with a grain of salt. To begin with, it is not easy to make a clear distinction between pieces for any keyboard and compositions specifically intended for the organ. Obviously pieces for two manuals and pedal can only be played at the organ. Those include the seven chorale preludes and the two Fugues in F and g minor respectively which Friedhelm Flamme included in his recording. Inexplicably he did not include the Fugue in F (F 36 / A 91) which Julia Brown has recorded. On the other hand Flamme plays several pieces which don't require a pedal; these include the Fantasias in d minor and c minor which open and respectively close, his programme. Also no pedal is required in the Eight Fugues (F 31 / A 81-88), but here Friedemann has specifically indicated that they can be played either at the "Clavier" (any keyboard without pedals) or the organ.
Although these two discs contain duplications, they also complement each other in that both offer pieces which don't appear on the other disc. The two Fantasias I have just mentioned are absent from Julia Brown's disc - she played them at the harpsichord on Naxos 8.570530 - whereas she included various fugues which are not in the two catalogues of Wilhelm Friedemann Bach's oeuvre. The reason is that they are not considered authentic. It is rather odd that this is not mentioned in the liner-notes. Authentic or not, it is nice to have them available, even though they have been recorded before - for instance by Leo van Doeselaar on Etcetera KTC 2503, 1984.
One can understand that they are considered doubtful, as some are very baroque in style and not very different from Johann Sebastian's fugues. The Fugue in B flat (track 16) is a good example. But that in itself doesn't tell against their authenticity. Listening to the chorale preludes one will notice their rooting in a past even before J.S. The cantus firmus is virtually unornamented, and Friedemann makes use of so-called Vorimitation in which the chorale melody is anticipated in the other voices. It was not only used by Sebastian but is also a feature of the chorale preludes by Johann Pachelbel (1653-1706). Other fugues begin in a rather old-fashioned manner but then turn towards the fashion of the time towards the end. This is typical of Wilhelm Friedemann who in his oeuvre moves to and fro between the various styles of his time.
The number of fugues he composed is remarkable and this is considered one of the reasons he fell from grace towards the end of his career. The form of the fugue had become largely obsolete, and when Friedemann attempted to get the Eight Fugues printed, publishers refused. These are very likely characteristic of his style of playing, and that could well have been the reason that in the last stage of his life he wasn't in much demand as an organist any more. It is assumed that he mostly improvised during his public concerts; that is probably the reason so little organ music by him has been preserved.
The duplications allow us to compare the interpretations of these two organists which are quite different. A look at the track-lists reveals that Julia Brown is consistently slower than Friedhelm Flamme. It is mostly not possible to decide which tempo is right. The Fugue in F (F 33 / A 90), for instance, works in both performances quite well. The slower reading by Julia Brown lends it a kind of gravity and seriousness which suits its character as it is reminiscent of the fugues in Sebastian's Well-tempered Clavier. Elsewhere the slow tempo works against the music, for instance in the Fugue in c minor (track 6) where the trills are unnatural. One could probably characterise Ms Brown's performances as analytical: every detail is exposed, thanks not only to the relatively slow tempi but also the registration which is mostly modest and allows for every single voice to be followed.
The differences between these two discs are also due to the organs. Julia Brown plays an instrument built by Paul Fritts and Company in 1999, which was clearly inspired by the German baroque organ. Friedhelm Flamme also plays a modern organ by Martin Hillebrand dating from 2008. Here new stops have been built in the style of the 18th century, particularly based on the disposition of the organ by Christian Vater which was built in this church in the 1730s. Some pipework from the organ Carl Giesecke had built in the same church in the 1860s has been incorporated into this organ. Because of that the sound is quite different, mellower and less penetrating than the sound of the organ Julia Brown plays. I don't want to choose between them. The Eight Fugues come off beautifully at the Hillebrand. So do the chorale preludes, but in these somewhat old-fashioned pieces the Fritts organ is probably closer to what Bach had at his disposal in his earlier years.
Both booklets leave something to be desired. I have already identified that the doubtful authenticity of several pieces in Julia Brown's recording is not mentioned. Otherwise the liner-notes are not very specific about the various pieces. The CPO booklet contains some general information about Wilhelm Friedemann as an organist, but little analysis of the music. The track-lists should have given the numbers in Peter Wollny's catalogue as well, in particular as Falck's catalogue is out of date. I have added them on the basis of the work-list in New Grove.
Both recordings have their merits and those who have an interest in Wilhelm Friedemann's music shouldn't miss either of them.
-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International
POET'S ECHO
Schelb: Violin Sonatas
Kalman: Die Bajadere / Daumm, Bonynge, WDR Funkhausorchester
The Bayadere celebrated its premiere in Vienna in December, 1921. A few months later, in February, 1922, the Metropoltheater in Berlin staged this operetta by Emmerich Kalman. His music brings together Hungarian folk melodies and the Viennese waltz, displays operatic and melodramatic elements, and illustrates the American dance rhythms of its times. In addition, it offers exotic tone colors like those of the tarogato and specific rhythms designed to satisfy the longing for the faraway, foreign India. These ingredients came with the guarantee of musical success. This work numbers among the genuine highlights in the Hungarian composer Kalman's oepretta oeuvre. In 2014, the WDR presented a concert performance of The Bayadere and then went on to produce this work in the studio. The great Richard Bonynge opened the operetta's vibrant introduction with plenty of energy and stormy drive, astonishing for this world-renowned Australian conductor who is now in his seventies. The elegant, slender gentleman with a full head of white hair who has always loved the operetta and whose discography includes many recordings in this field led the WDR Orchestra and the WDR Chorus with precisely trimmed conductor's gestures, so that here Emmerich Kalman's famous Bayadere experienced the right interpretation.
Vigeland: Perfect Happiness
World Opera Stars: Ewa Podles
Meyerbeer: Music For Festive Occasions / Jurowski, NDR Radio Philharmonic Hannover
Experience the grandeur and celebration of Giacomo Meyerbeer's works with "Meyerbeer: Music For Festive Occasions" by the CPO record label. Conducted by Mikhail Jurowski, this CD showcases music specifically composed for special events, performed by the NDR Radio Philharmonic Hannover. Transport yourself to the joyous atmosphere of the German radio orchestra's performances with this exquisite recording.
Klughardt: Lenore - Symphonic Poem, Op. 27; Gernsheim: At A Drama / Mayrhofer, Anhaltische Philharmonic
KLUGHARDT Symphony No. 2, “Lenore” 1. GERNSHEIM Zu einem Drama 2 • 1 Manfred Mayrhofer, 2 Klaus Arp, cond; 1 Anhaltische PO; 2 SWR Kaiserlautern SO • STERLING 10962 (51:07)
This disc is a bit of an oddity with respect to the contents. While released only in 2012 and coming to me this year, the recordings on it were made respectively on October 14, 2002 (a live concert performance of the Klughardt) and July 6, 1995 (a studio recording of the Gernsheim). No explanation is provided as to why the issuance of either item was so long delayed. At any rate, these are world premiere recordings of two works by two significant but hitherto neglected German composers of the Romantic era, whose music has only in the last decade or so become somewhat better known. As I have approvingly reviewed previously issued discs of other works by both composers in these pages, I happily return to both of them again.
In 34:5 and 36:4 I favorably reviewed CDs of chamber music by August Klughardt (1847–1902): two different recordings of his Piano Quintet, coupled respectively to ones of his String Quartet and Piano Quintet. While noting that he became an avowed disciple of the Liszt/Wagner “New German School” after meeting Liszt (an event variously dated to either 1871 or 1873 in different sources; 1871 appears to be correct), the major influences on his chamber music were Mendelssohn, Schumann, and Brahms, with some Liszt thrown in at points for good measure. By contrast, in this Symphony, Klughardt’s allegiance to Liszt and Wagner—albeit the earlier Wagner of Rienzi and the scenes of pageantry in Tannhäuser and Lohengrin —is complete and self-evident.
The “Lenore” Symphony has a decidedly complicated background story. Klughardt worked on the score between 1871 and 1873, immediately upon first meeting Liszt. At this time he also met Joachim Raff, who was likewise identified with the New German School to the extent that he approved of and wrote program music. Unaware that Raff also was working on a symphony (his No. 5) based on the poetic ballad Lenore by Gottfried August Bürger (1747–1794), Klughardt discussed the poem with Raff and played portions of his draft score for him. Raff apparently said nothing to Klughardt and proceeded to finish and premiere his own work first. When Klughardt later became aware of Raff’s Symphony, he wrote Raff a letter in which he apologized to him for poaching on the latter’s turf. Moreover, he then published his own work as a symphonic poem rather than a symphony, though he continued to number it as a symphony in his personal catalog. This in turn has led to confusion among writers as to whether Klughardt wrote six or seven symphonies. To complicate the numbering of Klughardt’s symphonies further, there are: a) an unpublished early Symphony in F Minor, performed in 1871 but then withdrawn by the composer; and b) another Symphony in F Minor, dating from 1876, that was numbered and published as his Symphony No. 2. Thus, depending on who has counted what, this “Lenore” Symphony has been variously referred to as an unnumbered symphonic poem, Symphony No. 1, or Symphony No. 2.
The “Lenore” Symphony is cast in four movements, although the second and third ones are joined together such that they form one continuous movement and effectively reduce the total to three. The music follows the plot of the poem quite closely (Klughardt prefaces each movement with a quotation from the ballad). The young maiden Lenore anxiously awaits the return of her sweetheart Wilhelm, who has been fighting as a soldier in the army of King Frederick II of Prussia in the Seven Years’ War. The war has ended and soldiers are returning, jubilant, from the battlefield. When Wilhelm fails to appear, the distraught Lenore utters a blasphemous attack upon God, which causes all to withdraw from her in horror. Deserted, she suddenly hears a knock at the house door; she opens it and to her joy Wilhelm is there, clad in armor. He tells her that he has come to take her to their wedding bed; they mount his steed and gallop off. As they ride, the increasingly agitated Lenore asks her lover a series of questions, to which she receives increasingly cryptic and ominous replies. At their destination they dismount; Wilhelm now reveals his true form as a skeleton, and escorts Lenore to their wedding bed—the grave. Her wish is fulfilled, albeit not as she had hoped.
The first movement ( Heftig bewegt —Violently turbulent) represents the anxious vigil of Lenore. It opens with a dramatic, declamatory theme on the lower strings—one which recurs throughout the entire work—that sounds startlingly like the motif that Modest Mussorgsky later created to signify the brutal boyar Ivan Khovansky in his Khovanshchina . A contrasting lyrical second theme appears occasionally; I presume that this signifies Lenore’s love. The succeeding Scherzo is dominated by a brashly vulgar and raucous march tune, accompanied by loud percussion, depicting the triumphal parade of the returning soldiers. This segues without pause into the third movement ( Langsam, aber durchaus leidenschaftlich —Slow, but passionate throughout), which depicts Lenore’s despair and her blasphemous outburst with music of a gentle, sweet melodiousness that belies the putative subject matter. The Finale ( Mässig —Moderately) opens with a dotted eighth-note theme representing Lenore’s and Wilhelm’s ride, and then at various points recalls material from the previous movements, ending with the opening theme of the first movement transformed into a peaceful close in the major key.
The first time I listened to this piece, without having read the booklet notes in order to avoid creating any a priori prejudices, I was thrown for a loop and heartily disliked it, thinking it was a piece of ramshackle incompetence because the movements did not follow standard symphonic structures such as sonata or rondo forms. The second time I listened to it, after reading the booklet notes and re-approaching it instead as an extended symphonic poem (or as a symphony after the manner of the Dante and Faust symphonies of Liszt), it began to grow on me, and after several more hearings I have come to like it a great deal, admiring its unconventional boldness. Klughardt reported to friends that Wagner, the work’s dedicatee, said to him: “After reading through your symphony I must confess that I regard you as a notably gifted person: it is no small achievement to bring such a score to this world.” However, the booklet notes for one of the Klughardt chamber music CDs I previously reviewed state that Wagner rejected the dedication with the dismissive comment that he “perceived the whole merely as a study very much in need of correction in terms of style.” Whether only one or both of these is true, I cannot ascertain; I can only say I enjoy it thoroughly.
I have sung the praises of Friedrich Gernsheim (1839–1916) on several occasions, including a review in this issue of a disc of his symphonies Nos. 1 and 3. Zu einem Drama , his one other major orchestral work apart from his four symphonies, was composed in 1902 and published in 1910. Here, Gernsheim’s oft-noted close similarity to Brahms is quite evident; indeed, this work is a step-brother of Brahms’s Tragic Overture, not only musically but also thematically in that their titles do not point to any more specific programmatic content. Gernsheim’s work has its own distinctive traits, however; it is far more ambitious in scope, lasting almost 18 minutes as opposed to about 12 for the Tragic Overture, and the orchestration is more brilliant in a way that shows Gernsheim was not impervious to the music of Wagner and Richard Strauss. Laid out in a modified sonata form with contrasting interludes, it is a work of great substance and integrity that grows upon me with each new hearing.
The Anhaltische Philharmonie is based in Dessau, the city where Klughardt spent the last two decades of his life; the Kaiserlautern Symphony is located in the city of that name in the southern Rhineland, very close to Worms where Gernsheim was born and raised. Both orchestras play very well for their respective conductors, who are able interpreters. The recorded sound for both items is excellent; the hall in Dessau obviously has first-rate acoustics. A bit oddly, in the “Lenore” Symphony the audience noise between movements is neither edited down to a seamless transition nor left intact; instead, a few seconds of noise is left after each movement, followed by the sudden break of a silent interval between CD tracks. The very informative program notes for the “Lenore” Symphony are written by Klughardt scholar Alan Krueck; those for Gernsheim’s Zu einem Drama by the noted British music critic Malcolm MacDonald. If you are someone who is interested in exploring lesser-known 19th-century orchestral repertoire, this disc provides a most inviting portal into that realm; heartily recommended.
FANFARE: James A. Altena
Schutz: German Funeral Music Of The 17th Century / Strobl, Voces Suaves
The Musicalische Exequien of Heinrich Schutz, composed for the ceremonial obsequies of Heinrich II Posthumus, count of Reuß-Gera, is probably the best known example of German funeral music of the seventeenth century. However, it is not an isolated piece; there were in fact a great number of virtually unknown vocal compositions from the same period, which were commissioned to commemorate the death of specific personalities and performed at their funeral services. The third album from Voces Suaves on the Arcana label offers a fresh perspective on Schutz’s famous masterpiece, complementing it with works by other major German composers of the seventeenth century such as Rosenmuller and Schein. The music is performed by singers and a continuo group without any additional instruments, so that the focus remains throughout on a flexible vocal presentation of these striking and moving works.
New Music for Violin Solo / Arnoldi
Reznicek: Donna Diana / Windfuhr, Et Al
Perin--a wonderful role for high baritone--is a wise-fool figure, Don Cesar's friend, who gives advice, puts the play in action, and is more-or-less omnipresent. About a half-hour before the opera's close (the whole work is just short of two hours long) he lets us know that he'd also like a lady friend for himself. He's a delightfully three-dimensional character, and Simon Pauly sings him with remarkable "face" and engaging tone. His duet with Don Cesar near the beginning of the show is splendid, and both he and tenor Roman Sadnik paint indelible portraits of themselves right then and there. The duet, which is grand and grandly orchestrated, ending with a blazing high-C from Sadnik against a slightly too-loud orchestra, sets the tone for the work's forward propulsion and great energy. They and the other players sing off the text brilliantly, and while there are few beautiful voices to be heard, each is distinctive and is used with great theatricality. This live performance really moves.
There are three other pairs of lovers: Don Louis and Donna Laura, Don Gaston and Donna Fenisa, and a surprise in the very sharp Floretta, Diana's foster-sister, who turns out to be just right for Perin. Including Don Diego, then, there are nine characters, and Reznicek writes for them all individually and in ensemble, and always with specificity. The vaguely goofy tone that tends to be present in the comic operas of the earlier Italian composers is entirely missing here, and to very good effect.
The entire cast, well-rehearsed and utterly committed, does itself proud. In addition to Sadnik and Pauly, most impressive is Manuela Uhl as Donna Diana. She captures the girl's haughtiness, while in asides she exhibits a softer side. And as pure singing, she shines as well: in recent recordings of Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac and Strauss' Die Liebe der Danae she has moments of rawness, but here she seems more frequently at home, and her Moorish Romanza in Act 2 is lovely. Max Wittges has just the commanding bass for Don Diego and mezzo Anne-Carolyn Schlüter presents a self-contained portrait of the standing-back-from-the-crowd Floretta. The rest of the cast, chorus, and Kiel Orchestra--the latter with a brass section any orchestra would be proud of--are polished and should be pleased with their fine work. The sound is excellent despite the intermittent tendency of conductor Ulrich Windfuhr to throw the balance toward the orchestra. It wouldn't surprise me if this recording (and the earlier one of Ritter Blaubart) began a Reznicek rediscovery. Seeing either opera live must be a real treat. [2/8/2005]
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Gluck: Iphigenie En Aulide, Iphigenie En Tauride / Minkowski, Gens, Delunsch
GLUCK Iphigénie en Aulide.1 Iphigénie en Tauride2 & • Marc Minkowski, cond; 1Véronique Gens (Iphigénie); 2Mireille Delunsch (Iphigénie); Salomé Haller (Diana); Nicolas Testé (Agamemnon); Anne Sofie von Otter (Clytemnestre); Frédéric Antoun (Achille); Martijn Cornet (Patrocle); Laurent Alvaro (Arcas/Thoas); Jean-François Lapointe (Oreste/Calchas); Yann Beuron (Pylade); Netherlands Op Ch; Les Musiciens du Louvre Grenoble • OPUS ARTE 1099 (2 DVDs: 229:00) Live: Amsterdam 9/7/2011
& The making of “Iphigénie en Aulide”; “Iphigénie en Tauride” (38: 00)
This two-DVD set documents an unusual evening in the theater, with both of Gluck’s Iphigénie operas being given on one night as a double bill. The risk of mounting such a project is great, not least because these operas are very draining on both cast and audience. The fact that Marc Minkowski was able to pull this off was due in no small measure to the intelligent casting, which duplicated only two singers in both operas: Salomé Haller as Diana and Laurent Alvaro, who sings the small role of Arcas in the first opera and Thoas in the second.
For those unfamiliar with these Gluck operas, they represent somewhat different styles despite their similar subject matter and the fact that they were only written five years apart. Gluck’s growth as a creative artist in those five years was phenomenal, almost as stunning as Igor Stravinsky’s growth between the first and last acts of his opera The Nightingale. In Iphigénie en Aulide, although he already has a firm grasp of the new musico-dramatic structures he had created, he was still operating in an essentially lyric vein. There are strophic arias and all of the recitatives are orchestrally accompanied, which gives the music a remarkable sense of unity that was very rare in those days, but by 1779, when he wrote Iphigénie en Tauride, his sureness of handling drama through music had grown to its full maturity. The later opera, even from its opening notes, has a much greater thrust and impetuosity in both the orchestral and vocal writing than was present in the earlier opera. This, then, presents director, cast, and conductor with another challenge, which is how to reconcile the differing styles of these operas in one night’s performance.
Pierre Audi’s direction is singularly arresting and brilliant despite sparse sets and updated, somewhat ridiculous costumes. We see Iphigénie and Achille singing to each other in trench coats; when Iphigénie appears later in the first opera, she is wearing a bomb belt on what looks like a prom dress and a greasepaint X on her forehead to indicate that she has been marked for death. Calchas, the High Priest, looks nerdy in a blue suit with shirt open at the collar and horn-rimmed glasses—and, of course, we get our ubiquitous mostly-naked guy in tight slacks (who turns out to be Arcas). In act II, Agamemnon appears in a carnival cruise ship captain’s outfit, complete with dorky hat and a little winged emblem on it (and sunglasses…don’t forget the sunglasses, even though the stage is nearly as dark as pitch). In short, the costumes are rather ridiculous. The set, such as it is, consists of two high but narrow staircases on either side of the very small stage. Yet to Audi’s credit, he directs around this nonsense to create a dramatic presentation that is both interesting and appropriate to an updating of Greek theater. One can almost envision these singing actors performing their roles in more conventional costumes and sets, and their portrayals are dramatically apropos as well as fascinating to watch.
As for the singers in the first opera, pride of place goes to Nicolas Testé as Agamemnon. He possesses a large, well-focused voice that can even negotiate a trill, and his acting is superb. Nearly as fine are Véronique Gens as Iphigénie and Frédéric Antoun as Achille. Both have smallish voices of the sort that Gluck undoubtedly wrote for, yet they are pointed and carry well and their duets are a joy to the ear. Less impressive is Jean-François Lapointe as Calchas, whose voice has a flutter and an insufficient low range for the role. Anne Sofie von Otter, quite frankly, has little or nothing left of what was once a lovely if small voice. Twenty-plus years of singing, including several roles too large for her, have left the voice wobbly and hollow-sounding. She lacks volume even in so small a theater as this one that De Nederlandse Opera performs in. Her acting as always is spot-on, but I’m not listening to her just for acting. I want some voice, too.
Yet through it all, holding everything together, is the golden thread of Minkowski’s conducting, so that in the end one feels justified in going through this experience for his sure-handed leadership. One of the virtues of hearing a conductor this gifted is his way of knitting everything together so that chorus-recit-aria-vocal ensemble all flows seamlessly and naturally, with appropriate dramatic peaks when called for. Besides, it’s such a rare treat to actually see a production of any Gluck opera nowadays that I can almost overlook von Otter’s vocal faults and the silly costumes. Even in the earlier Iphigénie opera, one can clearly hear Gluck’s musical innovations and—more importantly for us today, with 20/20 hindsight—how much these innovations impacted the music of Cherubini, Spontini, Berlioz, and eventually Wagner. This is especially evident in those orchestrally accompanied recitatives: With their brief, almost blunt melodic thrusts, they stab into the listener’s ears in such a way that they convey the impetuosity of the characters. How ironic, then, that the “bel canto boys,” Rossini-Bellini-Donizetti, turn recitatives back into semi-parlando mush in the early decades of the 19th century. Listen—for just one small example-to the way Agamemnon sings of his daughter, whom he loves, and the tender accents that Gluck imparts to the orchestra behind him, using soft winds; then, immediately after, as he thinks of the sacrifice he is about to make, the tempo doubles and short, stabbing strings cut into his words. This is writing of pure genius. There is no other way to describe it.
The one demerit one can make against Gluck (and, specifically, his librettist) is that they whitewashed the story in order to provide a happy ending. In reality, Agamemnon had no guilt pangs or second thoughts about sacrificing his daughter, and in fact Iphigénie was killed to appease Diana; but by changing the ending of the story, Gluck was not only able to send his audiences home whistling a happy tune but also to manufacture out of thin air the “legend” that Diana took Iphigénie to her home island of Tauride, where the unfortunate girl spent much of her time doing what her father wanted to do to her: killing—oops, sacrificing—strangers who landed there to the goddess. Fabricated the story may be, but Gluck turned it into one of the most riveting operas ever written.
After a rough beginning, in which her voice is unsteady and very nasal, Mireille Delunsch brings it into clear focus and gives a good account of Iphigénie. Mind you, her performance here will not efface memories of Carol Vaness or Susan Graham, but it’s very fine on its own merits. As in the first opera, Minkowski’s conducting is just spectacular—he really “drives the storm” that opens this opera with intense fury—and again he manages to knit together the various scenes into a cohesive whole. Here, too, the staging makes even more sense that it did in the first opera, and except for Thoas (Laurent Alvaro) wearing a modern-day military uniform (what the heck is it with Regietheater directors and military uniforms? If they want to wear one so badly, just put it on yourself and leave the characters in their traditional garb!) most of the costumes here make much more sense. Sadly, Alvaro’s voice is consistently unsteady despite a bright timbre and his high notes covered and nasal. In short, he’s a poor choice for a role that requires long stretches of singing that are powerful and call for dramatic focus. The two priestesses, Simone Riksman and Rosanne van Sandwijk, are splendid, but the smaller male roles are sung rather pitifully.
Happily, our Oreste (Lapointe) and Pylade (Yann Beuron) are quite fine, which is important because from the point of their entrance onward they get the lion’s share of the singing. The staging of Iphigénie’s aria in which she grieves for her dead family is very well sung and staged, but I question the need to have Thoas come sneering into the picture to kiss her at the end.
Suffice it to say that Minkowski uses “original instruments” (or facsimiles thereof) as well as lower pitch (whether the A=409 supposedly used by French court tuner Pascal Taskin in 1783, the A=407.9 used a few years earlier, or Mozart’s A=421 I have no idea…these people really get hung up over this stuff), which makes the music sound at least a half-tone lower than you’re used to it from any A=440 performance, but to me this is all a moot point. It’s the performance that matters, the feeling and intensity of the playing and singing, not which tuning fork was used.
My lone complaint on packaging is that the booklet does not break down the operas by scenes, thus if you’re skipping ahead to catch a specific aria or scene you’ll have to guess. I’m not sure why they didn’t do this; I’ve seen it in almost every other opera DVD I’ve ever reviewed.
Having now given detailed descriptions of the performances, we reach the point where one rightly expects an endorsement or a rejection. I find myself divided on this issue, however. Audi’s direction, the conducting of Minkowski, and the singing of some, but not all, of the principals are certainly first-rate, but then we are faced with those cluttered staircases and inappropriate costumes (not to mention the substandard singing of Alvaro as Thoas). On the other hand, knowing how much the world (and particularly Europe) is in the thrall, I might even say the iron grip, of Eurotrash, could you really expect to someday see better productions with equally good direction, singing and conducting? The only other Iphigénie en Tauride on DVD is the one originally issued by Kultur in 2006 but now on Arthaus Musik 100377, which features the rather strained singing of Juliette Galstian as Iphigénie and yet another idiotic production, with people in giant masks following or mimicking the principals. Overall, I tolerated the Iphigénie en Tauride better because of the finer costumes and Delunsch’s generally well-focused singing, but you may prefer great audio recordings of these two operas. The best, indeed the only great, recording of the first work is the German-language performance from 1962 with Inge Borkh (Klytemnestra), Christa Ludwig (Iphigénie), James King (Achilles), and Walter Berry (Agamemnon), conducted by Karl Böhm, on Orfeo 428962, while the now-classic Muti recording of the second opera with Carol Vaness, Gösta Winbergh, and Thomas Allen (Sony Classical) is still the benchmark.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
SYMPHONY N.9 SYMPHONY NO.38
Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, String Trio / Stiedry-Wagner
SCHOENBERG Pierrot Lunaire 1. String Trio 2 • 1 Arnold Schoenberg, cond; 1 Erika Stiedry-Wagner (voc); 1 Rudolph Kolisch (vn, va); 1 Stefan Auber (vc); 1 Kalman Bloch (cl); 1 Leonard Posella (fl, pic); 1 Eduard Steuermann (pn); 2 Robert Mann (vn); 2 Raphael Hillyer (va); 2 Claus Adam (vc) • SONY 45695, mono/stereo (52:53)
As in the case of several of my other CHoF recommendations, this one is for half-a-record, in this case for the 1940 recording of Pierrot Lunaire directed by the composer. It’s not that the 1967 performance of the String Trio is a poor one—it’s not—but the 1985 recording of the String Trio, also by members of the Juilliard String Quartet (for such they are) only with Samuel Rhodes on viola and Joel Krosnick on cello (Sony 47690) supercedes this one. It is the recording of Pierrot Lunaire that is wholly unique.
Directed by the composer, it was the first of Schoenberg’s mature works to be recorded (Leopold Stokowski had recorded the earlier Gurrelieder in 1932 for RCA Victor). It includes pianist Eduard Steuermann, who had been playing this work since its premiere in 1913, and soprano Erika Stiedry-Wagner, who had been speaking/singing the vocal part in performances under Schoenberg’s direction since 1921. (In Robert Craft’s book Stravinsky: Discoveries and Memories, reviewed elsewhere in this issue, he writes of a performance in Italy of Pierrot Lunaire under Schoenberg’s direction, attended by none other than Giacomo Puccini. Stiedry-Wagner was probably the speaker in that performance as well.)
Curiously for an experienced singer who had performed this work many times with Schoenberg, Stiedry-Wagner sings several wrong pitches in “Eine blasse Wäscherin”; but as Dr. Avior Byron, a musicologist and composer who is working on the book Schoenberg’s Writings on Aesthetics and Interpretation in Performance has said, these deviations from pitch were not only accepted by the composer but quite possibly encouraged as a later reconsideration of how this specific song was to be interpreted. You can read the details in Chapter Seven of his book, “ Sprechstimme Reconsidered,” at bymusic.org/images/stories/byronphd/chapter_7.pdf. To begin with, there were no less than five takes made of this song (in addition to five each of “Valse de Chopin” and “Madonna,” and four each of “Gebet an Pierrot,” “Raub,” “Rote Messe,” and “Galgenlied”), and Stiedry-Wagner deviates from the written pitch in all of them. With the composer in charge, this error could have been remedied with a 15-minute piano rehearsal; but the fact that he allowed the recordings to be made, and the take with the wrong pitches issued, indicates a much deeper level of tolerance on Schoenberg’s part. As Byron illustrates via written comments from Schoenberg, the composer wanted a stricter adherence to pitch in Pierrot Lunaire than in the spoken recitation of Gurrelieder, but in certain songs—“Eine blasse Wäscherin” was apparently one of them—the mode of expression, the curve of the voice delivering the words, the vocal melismas as it were, became more important to him than absolute fidelity of pitch. Therefore, one can indeed accept this deviation as composer-approved and not an errant mistake that the composer did not catch prior to issue.
The bottom line is that Stiedry-Wagner’s performance is utterly fascinating and enthralling in its own way. She rivets your attention much better, for instance, than does Yvonne Minton in the note-perfect recording made under Pierre Boulez’s direction. From start to finish, this Pierrot Lunaire creates an atmosphere that is spellbinding. These performers, most of whom had been doing this work for a long time under the composer’s direction, give about as authentic a performance as can be imagined; and, as Byron makes clear, even the pitch deviations are instructive to modern performers as to how the songs should be done. In tonal Western music, interpretive differences are generally given by means of variants in the phrasing and the stress given to certain words, as in opera and Lieder, but to Schoenberg, the rhythms of Pierrot Lunaire were inviolable; and though he demanded a higher degree of pitch accuracy in this work, he apparently allowed a certain degree of latitude considering the range of one’s voice and the way the music was spoken-sung. Stiedry-Wagner was an accomplished operetta soprano and particularly an actress, thus I suspect that she and Schoenberg discussed the pitch deviations in “Eine blasse Wäscherin” to some extent, especially since all of the five existing takes deviate in one way or another from score pitch and, in fact, each one is different.
So much for “historically informed” performances, eh?
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
