08 Mar 2007
PUCCINI: La Bohème
With the distance of time, is it allowable to feel affection for Herbert von Karajan, beyond any respect — grudging or otherwise — for his long, starry career?
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.
With the distance of time, is it allowable to feel affection for Herbert von Karajan, beyond any respect — grudging or otherwise — for his long, starry career?
The opening of this filmed La Bohème prompts the question. First we see the facade of La Scala, from whence this staging — before being adapted to the soundstage of some film studio — originated, in 1965. And then we see the stern, handsome conductor, ostentatiously raising both his arms high to bring that baton down, the red of the house behind him contrasting with the glorious silver of his hair and the black of his tux.
What an ego, to appear before the film audience as if he were about to lead a live staging. As soon as the orchestra rips into the famous opening notes of Puccini’s score, and we are in the three walls of an old-fashioned movie studio “garret,” his image disappears, but his presence remains, not relinquishing any more of the spotlight to his singers and director/designer, Franco Zeffirelli, than necessary. No one could get away with this kind of thing today — but isn’t that at least partly because, few if any have the credentials and impact Karajan could boast of?
At any rate, this La Bohème DVD has treasurable qualities, with one big caveat. The singers mime to their recorded performances. As is often the case, the lip-syncing is erratic at best. More worryingly, there is a disconnect between the naturalism of film and a soundtrack that has no sense of immediacy, of place. Your reviewer found it hard to get involved through the first two acts, but finally succumbed to the eerie beauty of the act three set.
Among an excellent cast, Mirella Freni’s Mimi stands out as a classic portrayal. Looking both appropriately fragile and heart-meltingly lovely, she brings the very great added bonus of singing like an angel. If only she were not costumed in act four in a lovely, perfectly clean and well-pressed dress of baby-blue, with bonnet. She doesn’t look ill for a moment.
Gianni Raimondi’s passionate Rodolfo and Rolando Panerai’s energetic Marcello play off each other well. Adriana Martino manages to capture Musetta’s capricious nature without pushing into obnoxiousness, as some have done. Gianni Maffeo (Schaunard) and Ivo Vinco (Colline) fill out the cast ably.
The washed-out color reminds one of ‘60s TV shows. Yes, this is a dated production, but to some extent that just adds to its charm.
If the above-described demerits sound like dire warnings, stay away. Otherwise, this beloved opera has here an affectionate, rich rendering, thanks to Zefferelli, Freni and her co-stars, and also that faded figure from the long lost days when classical music mattered, Herbert von Karajan.
Chris Mullins