16 May 2006
VERDI: Nabucco
The booklet somewhat proudly tells us that “a modern Italian opera-going public would likely walk out in horror if confronted with the avant-garde productions of many German opera houses.
What better way for Masonic brothers, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Emmanuel Shikaneder to disseminate Masonic virtues, than through the most popular musical entertainment of their age, a happy ending folktale that features a dragon, enchanting flutes and bells, mixed-up parentage, and a beautiful young princess in distress?
Since its first performance at the Teatro Santi Giovanni e Paolo during Venice’s 1643 Carnevale, Monteverdi’s L’Incoronazione di Poppea has been one of the most important milestones in the genesis of modern opera despite its 250 years of unmerited obscurity.
Though 2013 is the bicentennial of the births of Giuseppe Verdi and Richard Wagner, the releases of Cecilia Bartoli’s recording of Bellini’s Norma on DECCA, a new studio recording of Donizetti’s Caterina Cornaro from Opera Rara, and this première recording of Saverio Mercadante’s forgotten I due Figaro, suggest that this is the start of a summer of bel canto.
Recording Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen is for a record label equivalent to a climber reaching the summit of Mount Everest: it is the zenith from which a label surveys its position among its rivals and appreciates an achievement that can define its reputation for a generation.
Few people who love opera in general and bel canto in particular have never heard the comment made by Lilli Lehmann, veteran of the inaugural Ring at Bayreuth in 1876, that singing all three of Wagner’s Brünnhildes—in Die Walküre, Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung, respectively, all of which she sang to great acclaim—pales in comparison with singing the title rôle in Bellini’s Norma.
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.
The booklet somewhat proudly tells us that “a modern Italian opera-going public would likely walk out in horror if confronted with the avant-garde productions of many German opera houses.
Italian audiences lack the patience to tackle the maverick inventions of modern experimental directors. Here the director shows scant regard for any such post-modern interpretation of the dramatic action.”
So true, but I’m still not sure I myself wouldn’t walk out of this hotchpotch production that, moreover, is so badly sung.
To quote another sentence from the book, “Panizza’s production is a veritable feast for the eye and firmly in the Italian mould”. Colourful it definitely is but I don’t believe that “Italian mould” is a synonym for ridiculous costumes and ugly make-up. The moment Maestri appears, one simply has to laugh. Due to his huge frame, he is already not a snappy dresser; but the blue costume with some wings and a most ridiculous giant headgear only make him look like a surreal Aztec wizard. His big arms are painted in red all along (a blood-thirsty tyrant? even during his powerless days?). Andrea Gruber looks like a demented Medusa, her hair entirely in long dreadlocks while her face is painted yellow. When she appears in the last act to ask for pardon and to die, the yellow is gone. This has probably a very profound reason which however escapes me. Nazzareno Antinore looks not too comfortable in his Roman toga, a few hundred years before the costume came in vogue. The armies of the conqueror mostly resemble science fiction soldiers out of Flash Gordon. The loveliest moment comes at the start of act 3 when for several minutes one thinks one has stumbled in a performance of “Cirque du soleil.” A quick look at the box reveals one isn’t wrong very much as the ‘participation of Sonics acrobatic dance group” is duly noted. Mr. Panizza’s sets are stylized realism though a big plastic (or metallic) horse for Nabucco’s entrance once more is not my idea of the Italian mould.
I hoped the singing would be the redeeming feature but alas that too is not the case. The best of the lot (the most beautifully costumed too) is Nino Surguladze who has a rich darkly coloured voice (at least on DVD); but Fenena is hardly a role that shows us a soprano’s true mettle. Tenor Nazzareno Antinori is painful to watch and even more painful to hear. Antinori was never a refined singer but now he is a very old looking bawler without a sense of style or without breath to show some style. The High Priest has a short role too but that’s no reason bass Carlo Striuli rambles along with a most vile sound. Paata Burchuladze sings with the well-known hollow sound, forceful delivery and the lack of a real supple legato that have been his trade marks for at least ten years. With Ambrogio Maestri things at first somewhat clear up. He seems to have a big lyric baritone somewhat reminiscent of Mario Sereni. Still the timbre is not always homogenous and he really doesn’t dominate the crowds, not withstanding his big frame. There is no incisiveness in his singing the way Gobbi used to show though the elder baritone maybe had half the voice of Maestri. The opera may be called Nabucco but it’s of course Abigaille who runs the show. Gruber is handicapped by her ugly make-up and probably by the stage director’s orders. She pulls faces and acts like a small child imitating Snow White’s bad stepmother. She probably produces a lot of noise but her main weapon is just snarling. There is no beauty or even expression in the singing, just shrillness.
Conductor Daniel Oren is somewhat too conscious of the camera and thinks he has to deliver as well. Dancing on the roster seems to be a specialty and he already takes a bow after the overture. He belongs to the faster the better school and this doesn’t always work out very well: especially in the concertati the singing is not always concerted.
Colour, sound and TV registration are fine.
Jan Neckers