19 Nov 2005
DELIBES: Lakmé
I have to admit it: this is the first time I ever listened to the complete version of this early Decca-issue of 1952 (though some sources say it was recorded one year earlier).
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.
I have to admit it: this is the first time I ever listened to the complete version of this early Decca-issue of 1952 (though some sources say it was recorded one year earlier).
I filled my Lakmé-longings with a selection from this recording and have recordings of the Met Lakmé with Pons and Tokatyan, the 1976 Decca Lakmé with Sutherland and Vanzo, a Ruffini-Morino-version and Sumi Jo and Zhang in Amsterdam. Of course I possess a full Robin-version, though it is the French Radio performance of 1955 with Charles Richard. So I was in for quite a surprise and I am now wondering why I didn’t go for this version under review long time ago when I acquired the highlights-LP.
Old hands will remember the days when Decca bombed everybody with their ffrr (full frequency range recording) ads in the days before stereo. There is something nostalgic in hearing those sonics when singers where so clearly audible and not swamped by a lush orchestra. Yes, it’s true that the sound perhaps made eagles of sparrows but that is still the case with modern recording techniques; witness Bartoli who sounds like Simionato and Cossotto and has difficulty filling the Brussels Munt with its 1200 seats.
But the main selling point of this set are the singers. All of them started their careers at a time when Lakmé was part of the iron repertoire; when it was performed in France with a frequency that nowadays can only be compared with the numerous and unstoppable performances of Bohème at the Met. The whole performance sounds so natural, so convincing, so seamless that one almost forgets this is a recording; an artificial memo and not a wonderful once in fifty years direct radio performance. While playing it I never had the feeling for one moment that there was even a conductor, just that everybody was making great music and maybe this is the highest praise one can give Georges Sebastian.
And then there is the one and only Mado Robin. Of her several recorded Lakmé’s this is surely the best as after all corrections could be made. I was too young to have heard her in the flesh though I remember well the stunning news when the radio announced her gruesome death at 40 years of age. So I really don’t know how the voice came over in a big auditorium. But on records it is a miracle and not only in Lakmé (her “souvenirs de la belle époque” are one of my all-time favourites). The voice is so fresh, so scintillating and so slender that this is the Lakmé of one’s dreams. Sorry, all other competitors sound somewhat clumsy and old compared to Robin who gives an unforgettable impression of an Indian teenager. And yes, the stunning high notes are there too without losing focus or beauty of tone or sounding thinner as happened to Erna Sack. On video I have Robin singing several of these arias on camera in a time when shameful editing à la Placido Domingo was not possible: proof that there was nothing artificial to this unforgettable crystalline voice.
Her partners are not completely on the same level though they come close. Jean Borthayre as Nikalantha was still one of the best French baritones at the time of the recording when he was nearing fifty. The voice is a little bit gruff as suits the role and the style and pronunciation are flawless though Ernest Blanc combines rage, tenderness and sorrow even better in the highlights-selection with D’Angelo-Gedda I always held tenor Libero De Luca in not too high an esteem though this was more the result of bad casting by Decca (he is not a great Don José on their first Carmen with Juyol) than his own fault. His Gérald is another winner. Granted he is not so smooth and charming as young Alain Vanzo in his 1960-higlights-recording with Doria (on the 1976 Decca the voice is already too blowsy). Yes, the voice of De Luca is a little unwieldy and his pianissimo in Fantaisie aux divins mensonges are not on par with young Vanzo’s but he is manly, passionate and tender at the same time in the great tradition of Micheletti, Villabella and especially Charles Friant whose voice he mostly resembles. And De Luca was one of the many adopted French singers (like Endrèze) as he was born in the German part of Switzerland. Agnès Disney (what a name to make a career) is a charming authentic Melika in that beautiful duet that did much to restore the opera into favour as at a certain moment several big brands used it in their commercials in Europe (and maybe the States?). In short, if you like this masterpiece of tuneful music, this is probably the cheapest and the best version.
Jan Neckers