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 production offers a different view of Norma. As Stage Director Guy Joosten explains in the introduction on the first of a 2-disc set, he wanted to give the audience “more” of what he believes the modern audience expects.
The video opens with an Italian tenor arriving at the opera house to sing Pollione. He is dressed in mid-20th century garb. When he turns on the speaker in his “dressing room,” we hear the familiar opening notes of Norma. Our tenor proceeds to unpack his makeup bag and to gaze happily at an opera fan magazine on which his face graces the cover. His female dresser comes in leaving the armor that he will wear on the stage as Pollione, along with some red roses that apparently have been sent to him. Others arrive and chat with him as well and, of course, they all get to see the magazine cover picture.
A large fallen tree dominates the stage, with its tall root structure resting on a shiny black floor. The older soprano arrives in all her Diva glory…..dark glasses, a fur wrap over her silver trench coat. She poses for pictures and signs autographs for her adoring fans.
Our younger singer comes in and begins to prepare to sing Adalgisa only to find a bouquet of red roses on her dressing table. It is the same bunch of flowers that our tenor had received which he left for her after removing the card. Do we begin to get the picture ….. our Italian tenor is a bit of a cad!
But this is a production of Norma and little by little our principals don at least partial period costumes as they begin to take their places in the opera. With the trappings of the modern day story always present in things like the ultra-modern looking dressing tables and racks of street clothes visible, the traditional opera unfolds.
As Pollione’s problems—his affairs with two women—inevitably come to light, we finally see Hugh Smith as Pollione and not as the Italian tenor. It took him awhile to warm up, which resulted in a strained top. But his sound improved as the performance proceeded.
Romanian-born Nelly Miricioui was cast to perform the role of Norma; however, for a variety of reasons, Hasmik Papian assumed the part on short notice. Her Casta Diva is not a show-stopper; but it nicely sets the stage for what is to come. Norma is a demanding role, which Papian performed with aplomb. She clearly understood Norma (the traditional Norma). She could be angry, remorseful, sad and regal when it was called for and seemed to move through the moods of this complicated woman with grace both vocally and as an actress.
Irini Tsirakidis, Adalgisa, was a nice surprise. New to me, Tsirakidis brought this character to life. Adalgisa is in the most impossible position, with her challenging role being both musically and dramatically interesting. It is important to me that this role work well for this opera to achieve its full dramatic impact.
Giorgio Giuseppini as Orovesco was a bit woolly and wobbly. Nevertheless, this fit his character as an elderly gentleman. And, of course, he does not have much to do other than stand around and sing.
Carol Bosi as Flavio performed well, although the part is little more than window dressing. His presence is only necessary so Pollione can talk about his women problems but not much else. Bosi possesses a pretty sounding instrument.
So the tale moves on to its sad ending when Norma and Pollione are to die together by mutual consent. The scene is beautifully sung by all. As Norma and Pollione are about to walk into the fire, they are back in their Italian tenor and aging soprano clothes. Why? Who knows. Instead of going off with Norma, Pollione takes one last step back toward Adalgisa. But Norma proceeds to walk off stage to her plight and the curtain comes down. Strange….yes. Are we supposed to think that he might not follow Norma?
If you are interested in this DVD I suggest viewing the introduction on Disc 1 first. The discussion by the stage director and conductor Julian Reynolds makes all the difference in attempting to understand what they were trying to do with this bel canto masterpiece.
Norma stands alone for me. It does not need updating or additions to sustain it. But this is not an uninteresting reading of Bellini’s work. I wonder how he might have felt about such a production.
Cheryl Dowden