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.
In the modern performance of seventeenth-century French music, the ensemble Les Arts Florissants holds a special place, both for its longevity and the striking stylistic fluency it brings to performances — performances that have come to define our very sense of French Baroque style.
This present recording of liturgical music by Marc-Antoine Charpentier is no exception in this regard, for what impresses most is the naturalness of the performance idiom. The intricacies of French ornamentation, the timbral richness of French Latin, the shapely contours of line, the elegant embodiments of dance all prove second nature to Christie and his ensemble, elevating manner and artifice to true eloquence.
The opening “Te Deum,” one of several by Charpentier, is well-known, at least for its opening Marche en rondeau, a rousing bit of splendor out of which we moderns have constructed a musical icon of Louis XIV’s France. In its diverse aspects—alternately martial, dance-like, and intimate—the “Te Deum” evokes the close unity of church and state, often impressively so. And the variety makes for interesting listening. If the straight-ahead D major gloire is the brightest hue, there are also shimmering dissonant mixtures in luxuriant moments that underscore the richness of Charpentier’s harmonic palette—luxuriant moments to which Christie remains ever sensitive.
The “Grand Office des Morts” brings together a funeral mass, the Requiem sequence (“Dies irae”) and a motet on a purgatorial theme, all of which share proximity in Charpentier’s “Méslanges autographes,” the composer’s extensive collection of compositions in his own hand. There is little to suggest the pieces were composed or performed as a unified work, although the present performance amply demonstrates how effective that can be. Like the Te Deum, this “Grand Office” is also varied, but its prominent hue is often a dark one, as in the quietly controlled tristesse of the opening “Kyrie” or the pronounced languish of the harmonically rich “Agnus Dei.” The most memorable instance of this lamentative darkness is the instrumental prelude and final refrain of the motet. Low strings and hushed vocal dynamics cloak the plea for mercy in sepulchral shadows whose darkness is sublimely affective. Rapture is also close at hand in the chain of suspensions that begin the “Pie Jesu,” reminding of the formidable influence of Italianism in Charpentier’s works.
The recording is of a live concert given in Paris at the Cité de la Musique in 2004. On occasion the balance seems askew, with solo parts disproportionately loud relative to a somewhat distant sounding tutti, surely the result of the challenges of live recording in public venues. A regret, to be sure, but a small one relative to the many pleasures the performance affords.
Steven Plank
Oberlin College