15 Nov 2006
GIORDANO: Andrea Chénier
A socially conscious artist, caught in the violent gyrations of a country in revolution and war, awaits execution.
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.
A socially conscious artist, caught in the violent gyrations of a country in revolution and war, awaits execution.
He sings a passionate lament as he contemplates his approaching demise. Suddenly the woman he loves runs in, and a glorious duet in tribute to their love commences...though death awaits them both...
Tosca? No, Puccini's masterpiece lay a few years ahead. The above describes the brief final act of Umberto Giordani's Andrea Chenier, from a libretto by Luigi Illica (who would co-author the libretto for Tosca). Giordani's opera had a firmly held place in the repertory during much of the 20th century, but the last few decades have seen it lose its grip. The dramaturgy, it is true, can make Tosca seem like Harold Pinter. Nevertheless, the irresistibly melodic score offers fine showcases for a powerful triumvirate of tenor, soprano, and baritone, and so why not a wallow once in a while?.
This TDK DVD of a January 2006 performance features a cast about as good as our contemporary scene can offer. Carlo Guelfi, though without the beauty of a baritone such as Dmitiri Hvorostovsky, employs his dark sound to project the conflicted emotions of Carlo Gérard, the one-time servant who becomes a cynical force in the French revolution, all the while retaining a furtive desire for the beautiful aristocrat Maddalena di Coigny. That powerhouse Maria Guleghina does her best to tone down her innate strength, so that Maddalena's sensitivity can be felt. Almost girlish in the first act, frightened and desperate in the middle ones, and nobly passionate in the final, Guleghina succeeds, even though the sheer turbine power of her vocalism makes her "La momma morta" more a cry of anger than pain.
José Cura has the title role. As is typical of this handsome, masculine singer, he tends to let his looks serve as characterization. His throaty tenor will never make him universally loved, but he has the power and the high notes for roles such as Chenier. He and Guleghina, who have often sung together, make a formidable pair. Perhaps that is why director (and designer) Giancarlo del Monaco has the duo climb the outsized criss-cross bars of their prison cell at the opera's climax and reach out into space, rather than walk hand in hand toward the guillotine, as more common stagings end the show. Two indomitable singers aren't going out meekly.
Del Monaco's set and concept mix the traditional, especially in costuming, with modern stage craft. The shiny mirror-like walls of the first act encompass a bare stage. All the aristocrats wear grotesque make-up, an unsubtle touch that distances the viewer rather than supporting the drama. Transitions between acts and scenes, especially in the last half of the opera, occur seamlessly, allowing this somewhat fragmented drama to flow effectively.
Experienced conductor Carlo Rizzi provides his usual competent if not insightful reading, and the chorus and orchestra of the Teatro Comunale di Bologna follow him with idiomatic skill.
A very good performance then, if hardly a great one.
Chris Mullins