Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-Bleue, first heard in 1907, once seemed important. Arturo Toscanini conducted the Met premiere in 1911 with Farrar and later arranged some of its music for a 1947 recording with his NBC Symphony.
The economics of the recording companies dictate much that is not ideal. Wagner’s operas were not composed as they were in order to permit the extraction of bleeding chunks, even on those occasions when strophic song forms do occur.
Among the recent recordings of Mahler’s Eighth Symphony, Valery Gergiev’s release on the LSO Live label is an excellent addition to the discography of this work.
While not unknown, the songs of Alexander von Zemlinsky (1871-1942) deserve to be heard more frequently.
Recorded on 5 and 6 May 2008 and 17 and 18 January 2009 at the Lisztzentrum (Raiding, Austria), this recent Bridge release makes available the piano-vocal versions of three song cycles by Gustav Mahler, Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, Rückert-Lieder, and Kindertotenlieder performed by mezzo-soprano Hermine Haselböck, accompanied by Russell Ryan.
Contraltos rarely achieve the acclaim and renown of sopranos. Assigned few leading roles in opera, they are condemned to playing the villain or the grandmother, or to stealing the castrati’s trousers in en travesti roles.
Following their 2011 Decca recording of Striggio’s Mass in 40 Parts (1566), I Fagiolini continue their quest to unearth lost treasures of the High Renaissance and early Baroque, with this collection of world-premiere recordings, ‘reconstructions’ and ‘reconstitutions’ of music by Giovanni and Andrea Gabrieli, Monteverdi, Palestrina, and their less well-known compatriots Viadana, Barbarino and Soriano.
Eternal Echoes is an album of khazones [Jewish cantorial music] for cantorial soloist, solo violin and a blended instrumental ensemble comprising a small orchestra and the Klezmer Conservatory Band.
Michael Tilson Thomas’s recording of Mahler’s Third Symphony is an outstanding contribution to the composer’s discography.
Oliver Knussen burst into British music with an unprecedented flourish. In 1967, the London Symphony Orchestra premiered Knussen’s First Symphony, with István Kertész scheduled to conduct.
Based on performances given in Summer 2010 at the Lucerne Festival, this recording of Beethoven’s Fidelio is an admirable recording that captures the vitality of the work as conducted by Claudio Abbado.
Stanisław Moniuszko (1819-1872) was one of the most popular composers of his day in Poland, and of the many works he wrote for the stage, two are performed from time to time, Halka (1848) and Strazny dwór [The Haunted Manor] (1865).
The Polish alto Jadwiga Rappé is a familiar voice in various stage and concert works, and the recent release of a selection of songs by Stanisław Moniuszko (1819-1872) is an opportunity to hear her performing artsongs.
Originally released on multiple discs in 1981 this reissue on two CDs is a comprehensive collection of art songs by Italian and French composers from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
An exciting contribution to the discography of this popular opera, the live performance of Richard Strauss’s Salome from the Festspielhaus at Baden-Baden is a compelling DVD.
Released in late 2011, Deutsche Grammophon’s DVD of the new staging of Berg’s Lulu at the Gran Teatro del Liceu, Barcelona is an excellent contribution to the discography of this fascinating opera.
A recent release by the Metropolitan Opera, this two-disc set makes available on DVD the famous performance of Berg’s Lulu that was broadcast on 20 December 1980 as part of the PBS series “Live from the Met.”
The novels of Sinclair Lewis once shot across the American literary skies like comets, alarming and fascinating readers of that era, but their tails didn’t extend far behind them.
Once the province of only the most dedicated opera fanatics, mid-20th century recordings of privately taped live performances have become more widely available.
Flute players in opera orchestra around the world must look forward to the frequent appearances of Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, knowing that while the stage spotlight in the mad scene will be on the soprano, the orchestral spotlight will be on their instrument.
A Masked Ball Giuseppe Verdi, music and Antonio Somma, libretto English translation by Amanda Holden Chandos 3116 (2) London Philharmonic Orchestra David Parry, conductor In an era where major record companies seldom produce complete opera sets (and those they do...
A Masked Ball
Giuseppe Verdi, music and Antonio Somma, libretto
English translation by Amanda Holden
Chandos 3116 (2)
London Philharmonic Orchestra
David Parry, conductor
In an era where major record companies seldom produce complete opera sets (and those they do release tend to be recorded live), one company has found a market for studio recordings. Chandos now approaches its fiftieth complete opera set under the auspices of Peter Moore's Foundation support for opera in English (those last words also being the name of the Chandos series). Verdi's Un ballo in maschera recently emerged from this series, under the title A Masked Ball.
So should the recording-starved opera lover rejoice? That depends on what one is starved for. One person might hunger for Italian food and be satisfied with a bowl of Chef-Boyardee, steaming from the microwave. Many another might consider that an abomination.
This A Masked Ball, for these ears, comes tinned and heavy with watery tomato sauce. The first misfire is the orchestral performance under the unidiomatic conducting of David Parry. An experienced leader, Parry has many fine recordings of rare Italian opera available on Opera Rara. He knows the idiom. For whatever reason, here we have a flat, uninspired reading where the climaxes feel forced and the lyrical sections grow tired. The lifeless sound doesn't help — everyone performs in a squeaky-clean vacuum of an acoustic space, as if each individual musician and singer were recorded in dozens of locations and the results all spliced together later.
Then there's the cast. Fresh ingredients being key to a delicious Italian meal, perhaps Chandos could have looked elsewhere than to Dennis O'Neill and Susan Patterson for the leads. Both have had distinguished careers, but both voices sound tired, warbly, and effortful. Perhaps Amelia can sound strained, as the poor lady has hardly a single happy moment in the whole opera, but Gustavus III (Chandos uses the original setting, not the American substitute meant to satisfy nervous censors) should be full of life and passion. O'Neill's joyless performance pretty much takes this recording out of the running right from the get-go.
Anthony Michaels Moore has years of good singing left, although his baritone boasts rough edges that make his portrayal of Count Anckarstroem rather an obvious heavy upon his entrance. By act three, he is one scary Count. American Jill Grove does well enough by Ulrike, and Linda Richardson manages to keep Oscar bouncy and fun and not hyper and annoying.
However, for an opera of such rich Italian passion and melancholy, whether set in Sweden or the American new world, the English translation is all wrong. Tidy and well-mannered, it never captures the essence of the Somma text that inspired such glorious music from Verdi. Let one example suffice: the Count's third act aria, Eri tu, becomes Shame on you, who defiled my beloved. Very much Snidely Whiplash. Translator Holden seems to have channeled Henny Youngman at one point, when the Count declares (quite seriously), "Take my wife!" However, he doesn't add, "please!"
Not a few of the Opera in English releases have earned glowing reviews, and Rossini's A Thieving Magpie, released last year, deserved those it received, as a recent hearing attests. Unfortunately, this A Masked Ball raises all the old questions of why such a series is necessary when most any opera performance — whether a recording with libretto, a live one with surtitles, or a DVD with subtitles — can offer the glories of the original language and a translation that communicates the essence of the drama. But when a fine cast is singing, the issue is moot.
Sadly, the singing on this recording makes the issue very much alive. Better to honor Verdi's masterpiece by finding your favorite recording (one of mine happens to be the one with late Tebaldi and early Pavarotti) and treating oneself to the real Ballo. Like the best authentic Italian food, there is no substitute.
Chris Mullins