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.
The handsome face of tenor Juan Diego Florez naturally gets the cover of his latest CD, and his arguably unusually slim physique is on view too: on the inside cover of the booklet, on both the interior and rear of the jewel case, and on the back of the booklet.
And in an interior photo the singer, apparently tired of looking at the cameraman, stalks away, hands in suit pockets. In almost all these photos, Florez adopts an impassive affect, with only the slightest hint of a smile on his tightly pressed lips.
The vocal performances on the disc demonstrate what all the star's recordings have to date. His remarkable instrument has agility, a solid top extension, and an appealing tone, neither too sweet nor too tangy. With the exception of his previous disc, an over-orchestrated hodgepodge of lighter material called "Sentimiento Latino," Decca has primarily offered Florez in his trademark bel canto repertoire. Both his Rigoletto Duke and Gianni Schicchi Rinuccio, on the CD "Great Tenor Arias," indicated that his voice can stretch a bit into Verdi and Puccini, but some of the charm of his voice is lost.
Putting aide the awkward double title (Voce D'Italia - Arias for Rubini), this latest disc finds Florez comfortably at home in his beloved Bellini, Rossini, and Donizetti. The disc's repertoire covers arias from operas that made Giovanni Battista Rubini a (if not "the") leading tenor of his generation. Philip Gossett's booklet essay argues that Florez "is the acknowledged master of this type of vocalism." And no moment appears when, on a technical level, that judgment can be seriously challenged. On track after track, Florez leaps up to high notes and slides silkily around fast runs, all while maintaining an elegant composure. It's that same composure seen in the photos described above.
But what proves elusive in those photos - a sense of the singer's personality - also evades the ears in these performances. The lead roles in Bellini's Il Pirata, Donizetti's Mariano Falliero, and Rossini's Guglielmo Tell all sound pretty much the same here. And dramatically, perhaps not that much difference exists. However, to listen to Marcello Giordani singing the Pirata arias on a Naxos release of a few years back, one hears more of the hero, the dangerous sea brigand, than one does in the smoother, more secure singing that Florez provides.
But then over 70 minutes of tenor music from bel canto operas may not be the ideal continuous listening experience. Any of these tracks, heard by itself, would amaze and delight the ear. And that is due not only to Florez's great gifts, but also to the excellent support from the Academia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, under the leadership of Roberto Abbado. As a showcase for contemporary operatic singing, this Decca CD is an often stupendous affair. For at least one listener, a bit more individual expressiveness would have made it even more special.
Chris Mullins