08 Feb 2007
VERDI: Rigoletto
Sorry my friends, but this rich-looking DVD has a feature that disqualifies it for me.
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.
Since his debut at the Metropolitan Opera in 1971, conductor James Levine has come to represent the house’s commitment to artistic excellence — reliable, professional, and immaculately presented.
Sorry my friends, but this rich-looking DVD has a feature that disqualifies it for me.
It is synchronized and though the singers do very well and open their mouths at the appropriate moment you still pay attention to it and you are unable to forget it during the whole performance as you see the physical challenge of singing is absent. It’s not that I throw away all and everything operatic that is synchronized. I regret it but I’ve still looked spell-bound at Franco Corelli’s Canio of 1954 or Moffo’s Butterfly of a few years later but in those days it was actually quite impossible to broadcast a big opera from small cramped TV studio — though a RAI colleague once told me the real reason for synchronizing was the fact nobody in an Italian TV studio could ever keep his/her mouth shut. By 1982 when this Rigoletto was filmed, camera sensitivity and lighting had proceeded so much that synchronizing was no longer necessary and house broadcasting was the rule. Therefore the real reason of this outmoded operatic TV-movie is the intricate and opulent production by Ponelle. If one didn’t know better one would swear it was by Zeffirelli due to the number of courtiers and the orgy taking place in the first act. Ponelle preferred to take his Piave/Verdi libretto literally. He uses the Gonzaga palace and the city of Mantova as a real life set and designs a very realistic production. It makes for some magnificent sights at first but in the end it is somewhat unsatisfactory as this is the Gonzaga place I and million of tourists know it nowadays; stripped of its pictures by young Pieter Paul Rubens, its tapestries and its murals. The contrast between the fine costumes and the bare walls doesn’t make the sets believable. As always Ponelle had some brilliant ideas like the duke paying off the maid. Photography and camera handling is exemplary and rarely I have watched such a judicious mix of close-ups, medium and panoramic shots. Realism however has a price; one has to do it consequently as otherwise everything results in make-believe and this is what one gets here. During the abduction there is more than light enough for Rigoletto to read a book, even blind-folded. Gualtier Maldé, Gilda’s poor student, looks exactly what he is: the rich duke in one of his less exuberant outfits but still the duke. And Sparafucile succeeds in stabbing Gilda without spilling a drop of blood.
The singers too are not always very believable as actors. Not Pavarotti, who acts very convincingly and whose clothes are a masterpiece of camouflage. But Gruberova doesn’t look very virginal (rather difficult when one has twice the age of an 18-year old girl) or sexy. In a live broadcast in the house every opera fan has no problems when the soprano is a bit too ripe but in a grandiose film one has other expectations and the conventions are different. The vocalizing too has some ripeness problems. Here Gruberova is the best with an exemplary sung Gilda, displaying her formidable technique. Ingvar Wixell however is not suited to the role. The voice lies too high and has no heft in the big outbursts. His is a very lyric baritone, apt for introspection in ‘Pari siamo’ or the first act duet but in ‘Cortigiani, vil razza’ and in the vendetta duet his voice lacks power and rage.
The ‘raison d’être’ of the movie can be deduced from the sleeve portrait: no Rigoletto or Gilda but the duke as the opera is regarded as a vehicle for the star tenor. I think this is for Pavarotti-die-hards only who want to see their hero. He had a career of twenty years behind him when he recorded the sound track and the mellifluousness was slowly going away, leaving us with the rather monochromatic sound of his later days. He is often straining and his top note in ‘Possente amor’ is no longer a thing of beauty and strengt. For the great Pavarotti one has to purchase his famous RAI performance of 1966 (Scotto, Paskalis) or the official Decca recording of 1971. Of course, one would be happy with such a vocal display in any performance one goes to; but Pavarotti here is his own biggest competitor and he loses out to his younger self. Riccardo Chailly and his Vienna Philharmonic assist the singers (recorded prominently) ably though I cannot say he throws a new or very revealing light on the score.
Jan Neckers