21 Jan 2007
Giuseppe di Stefano: Opera Recital
This issue from DG’s own classic recital series is a copy of the 1963 LP.
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.
This issue from DG’s own classic recital series is a copy of the 1963 LP.
Theoretically it is meant to pleasure collectors who want to replace their worn LP’s but I think economy is more important to the company than just faithful reproduction . It’s nice to read the original sleeve notes but as a lot of it is nonsense, indulging the tenor’s vanities, some historical correction could have been added as well. Moreover the exact recording dates should have been given (March – May 1962). Those not familiar with the recital should start with track 12, the beautiful serenade of Pietri’s Maristella; incidentally not an operetta as it is so often described but a tragic opera. There you will get the best and a fair example of the worst of this recording. One is immediately struck by the still existing beauty of the middle register and by Di Stefano’s imaginatively phrasing, partly due to his perfect enunciation, a quality that remained with him till the last days of his career. The moment he comes into the passagio, the voice thickens and on high A the sound starts to grate alarmingly before he sails into half singing half shouting (witness his Bflat in Celeste Aida). Di Stefano is perfectly summed up in his colleague Del Monaco’s definition: “the heart of a dramatic tenor with the voice of a lyric one”. It’s no use crying over spilt milk and by now we have to accept living with Di Stefano’s fall from vocal grace. By 1962, apart from his before mentioned qualities, there was still the exciting beauty of the timbre, a sound of honey or velvet. As he is pushing his voice unmercifully, it soon becomes clear he is better in declamatory tracks than in early Verdi or Meyerbeer. He only sang Otello once, in 1968 (a disaster, though the rehearsal tape is fine) but the way his monologues of Otello are half sung and half spoken are most convincing, and few Otellos have the breathtaking beauty of sound or the energy he uses to pronounce his lines. When compared to his earlier recordings the decline due to his open throated singing is marked, especially in the ‘Cielo e mar’ and the ‘Or son sei mesi’ from La Fanciulla which he recorded 7 years earlier and with the recitative included here conspicuously lacking. In short this is the recital by a great has been but still a ‘great’ one.
Jan Neckers