29 Aug 2006
VERDI: La Forza del Destino
This cast looks quite promising on paper. However, I cannot honestly say these big names keep their promise, except for the comprimario-singers.
The Gran Teatre del Liceu in Barcelona, after suffering a calamitous fire in the early 1990s, reopened in 1999, lovingly restored. TDK has released a series of DVDs from the Liceu since that date, providing ample evidence of the world...
Premiered posthumously, the symphonic song-cycle Das Lied von der Erde by Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) remains one of his defining works because of its synthesis of song and symphony, two genres he pursued throughout his career.
In 1851 during his first season as music director in Düsseldorf, Robert Schumann presented a performance of Bach’s St. John Passion, and unsurprisingly adapted the score both to nineteenth-century taste and nineteenth-century practicalities.
The centrality of dance at the French court helped bring grace, order, and political allegory into the characteristic prominence they enjoyed during the reigns of Louis XIV and Louis XV; theatre presentations of all stripes were infused with choreographic diversions.
In tandem with the recently released set of Sir Simon Rattle’s recordings of Mahler’s symphonies on EMI Classics, the set of the complete symphonies by Jean Sibelius merits attention.
As much as Richard Wagner espoused opera reform in his theoretical writings by bringing to his works for the stage a closer unity between music and text, his actual means of doing so at times involved the use of orchestral forces that sometimes overwhelmed the sung word.
The budget label Gala purveys live performances both historic and relatively recent; of the three discussed here, the La Scala Fedora dates back to 1931, while the Attila comes from a 1987 La Fenice performance.
National styles of music in the seventeenth century were often distinctive, and in the case of French and Italian music, famously so.
With its recent release of Mahler’s symphonies conducted by Sir Simon Rattle, EMI Classics makes available in a single place an outstanding contribution to the composer’s discography.
This DVD records and commemorates a 1981 production of Parsifal in its Bayreuth lair, and the singers of 1981 are as fine as recollection might paint them.
Once the custom of the world's opera houses was to translate great operas into the language of each respective country.
Repackaging older recordings having become the primary focus of a classical recording company's business, Deutsche Grammophon budgeted some funds for art direction for its budget series called "Opera House" (although that appellation only appears in a link found on the back inside cover of the sets' booklets).
Of Rosenkavaliers on DVD, the classics tend to be lovingly detailed productions, going back to the film of Herbert von Karajan leading an exemplary cast, with Elizabeth Schwarzkopf's iconic Marschallin.
Despite an unsurprising degree of conservatism in liturgical music, devotional life in Rome often found ways of taking advantage of modern musical style.
“Her fioritura is priceless, breathtaking, and effortless.”
The English composer Nicholas Maw has been a major voice since the 1960's, with a wide range of works that include the 2002 opera, "Sophie’s Choice," a violin concerto for Joshua Bell (1993), and the monumentally-scaled orchestral work, "Odyssey" (1972-87).
As is often the case, last works that remain incomplete at the time of a composer’s death, are quick to invoke controversy and conspiracy theories.
This is a valuable new recording of a work that is only rarely heard, but was widely influential and wildly popular during the eighteenth century. Philosophe Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote both the libretto and the music, with mixed success.
This disc is well worth the price for the first track alone: the opening measures of Jean-Féry Rebel’s “Cahos,” (Chaos), written in 1737 or 1738, may cause you to wonder if you accidentally left a Stockhausen or Ligeti disc in the changer.
This recording made half a century ago will not be anyone’s first choice unless one is a die-hard fan of one of the principal singers; neither of them belonging to the absolute top in their profession.
This cast looks quite promising on paper. However, I cannot honestly say these big names keep their promise, except for the comprimario-singers.
The worst sinner is Gian Giacomo Guelfi, caught on a bad day. The voice is dry and without resonance, and Guelfi’s one solution is to force the voice and increase the volume as much as possible, eventually shouting in the cabaletta ‘Urna fatale’. By the last act there is some juice left in the voice, but he still gets away more easily with barking. His ‘Son Pereda’ and ‘Urna fatale’ are prime examples of mal canto, breaking the line and leaving legato aside. Guelfi was always a rough diamond that didn’t succeed in harnessing his huge voice and refining the musical style. Later that year he recorded an LP of the same opera with young Franco Corelli where at least the sound is exciting (Myto CD 953.132). The high notes, too, are better than in this live recording as he rather tentatively takes them but without the thickness and volume he has in the middle register.
Another disappointment is Padre Guardiano, sung by Giulio Neri. I had to look twice at the sleeve notes to make sure that this hollow sound, devoid of beauty and power, really belonged to Neri. Granted he only had one year and a half to live at the time of this performance, but he was only 47 in 1956, which is not at all old for a bass. Fedora Barbieri, another big name losing her voice before her 40th birthday, sings Preziosilla. In her first act aria, her high register is intact, but the bottom and middle are sung in a sort of growling, vile sound. By ‘Rataplan’ she has more or less recuperated to a more homogeneous sound from top to bottom.
We all know too well that Di Stefano’s lyric sound is totally unsuited for the role of Alvaro. By 1956 the voice is coarser, but the exciting timbre still has one spellbound. He starts out well with some incisive singing, but it soon becomes clear that the voice above the staff is foggy and that he has not warmed up. In Di Stefano’s vocabulary, the use of a first act of Forza is the warming up, so that by his big aria in the third act, he can give his all and something more as well. He doesn’t spare himself, sings too open as always and still makes a tremendous impression, alternating some fine pianissimo with some big forte’s. He’s fine too in ‘Solenne in quest’ora’ though he cannot match Guelfi in decibels. In the fourth act he simply gives up on stylish singing, trying to make as much sound as possible to match Guelfi so that the duet really becomes a shouting contest, won with one second by the baritone.
Not surprisingly, the best singing in this performance comes from Renata Tebaldi, with her use of a wonderful timbre for which the word ‘morbidezza’ was created. Leonora was always one of her best roles as she can float the voice in her two big arias and her convent scene, yet she has power to spare without having to shout herself hoarse. Indeed we hear the problems nearing that will mar her future. In ‘Me pellegrini’ she carefully takes a breath before tackling the high note. In the convent scene she is far less cautious but “the steam whistle” makes its entrance, and at the end of ‘Pace, pace’ she is flat. But, in this issue too, the better is the enemy of the good. Myto has included almost all of her well known 1953 performance as a bonus, and the listener can only be sad at the steadfast decline of her high register. Maybe the biggest surprise lies in the comparison between the middle voices. Though the sound is still very fine in 1956, it pales compared to the stupendous beauty three years earlier.
The experienced conductor, Gabrielle Santini, succeeds in sailing without problems through a performance, though many of these singers probably knew all too well that this was not their evening of glory and were therefore tempted to use some tricks. As was the custom in Italy of those days, the second Alvaro-Carlo duet was cut. Myto almost never gives an exact date of the performance. This one dates from the 8th of June, and some years ago was also released on the label Di Stefano lent his name to.
Jan Neckers