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.
What is the difference between a lady who becomes a prima-donna and a prima-donna who becomes a lady? The last one has to be begged as she thinks she has to behave according to her rank. The first one is sure of herself and doesn’t need, well let’s call it to behave somewhat capriciously.
OK, let’s call a spade a spade. Some 15 years ago I produced a TV-show for Flanders and the Netherlands on the decline of Italian singing and I asked a mutual friend who knew Tebaldi and Olivero very well to ask for their cooperation. Both ladies agreed to receive me a few weeks before shooting would start but my friend warned me that making an exact appointment would be difficult as Tebaldi was not one to be pinpointed on a date. So I started calling the great prima-donna and of course got her assistant Tina who kindly asked me to phone back tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, next week etc. till La Signora had made up her mind. At last we agreed I should come to Italy and try from there and Tina was sure La Signora would receive me.
So I went because by that time I was sure this would not be a journey for nothing as I had also placed a call to La Olivero. I had stated my business to her assistant and within a minute Olivero herself took the call, looked at her agenda and gave me a date and an hour at her apartment. On the exact date and hour I arrived and she herself opened the door. She offered a drink and as she was a little (really only a little) shaky I wanted to pour out myself a cup of tea. I’ll never forget Olivero charmingly taking my hand and friendly but firmly saying: “So sorry but it is my duty and honour to serve you!” Of course she always was a member of the rich bourgeoisie. (Yes, I finally succeeded in meeting Tebaldi as well).
Now to the record. The title gives the impression that here we’ve got all of Olivero’s official solo-records but this isn’t so and it’s a pity the firm didn’t produce a second CD with the lacking titles (the Cherry duet with Tagliavini; Amami Alfredo from Traviata; Amor, celeste ebrezza from Loreley; Panteismo and Triste est la steppe). That would have been short value but they could re-issue as well her only solo LP-album with songs of Faith and Devotion from 1970.
Of course we are not lacking in Olivero-issues as she herself said to me “I’m the queen of pirate recordings” (Leyla Gencer makes the same claim) and proudly showed a recent issue of her Mefistofele from Rio with Siepi and Labo which a fan had sent her for approval. Still not all of these many recordings were produced in excellent conditions and sometimes the sound picture is not a thing of beauty. I’m sorry to report that the sound on this CD is not always pristine as well. Two items were run through an echo chamber for I don’t know what reasons and the producers definitely didn’t use the original matrixes or tapes but used some less than mint 78’s as from time to time a small crackle pops up.
Now what can be said of the actual singing that has not been already said so many times before? Olivero is something of an acquired taste and she succeeds with means that could be called limited. The voice was not big but immensely well projected. It has an obtrusive vibrato, somewhat more in the pre- than in the post-war-recordings. Now for vibrato lovers like me that is a plus but in the Anglo-Saxon world that didn’t help her career. A score is not a sacrosanct object to revere but a means to construe a character and, if for that aim note values have to be lengthened or shortened, so be it. Sighs, sobs and growls are fine as long as it helps to define the heroine’s problems, though there are no such weird sounds to be found on these records that can compete with a lot of her live recordings where she pulls out all stops. And of course she is the queen too of the “fil de voce”, spinning out a phrase eternally to an almost whisper before swelling the tone once again to a forte. Everything is so exaggerated, so blown up that once more camp becomes pure art.
During my re-listening for the n-th time to these recordings I especially concentrated on the difference between her 1940 and her 1953 recordings and there is almost none. As is well-known, she didn’t sing in opera between 1941 and 1951 (desperately trying to get children) though she often performed in concerts and there is not the slightest wear. The only difference seems to be in the style where the sobs are more obtrusive, preparing the ground for her triumphs of the late fifties and sixties. In short Olivero’s solo-arias are a must in every vocal buffs collection. And by the way, in her big Traviata scene she is assisted by a nice tenor whose name is never mentioned on any re-issue. He is the completely forgotten Muzio Giovagnoli.
Jan Neckers