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.
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.
One of the guiding principles of the revisionist (if not intervisionist) school of opera directing commonly called “regie-theater” is that certain outdated dramatic conventions in the librettos of many great operas can actually interfere with a contemporary audience’s ability to perceive the true artistic worth of the work of art.
Instead of tears, titters can be produced if in the last act of Rigoletto, the soprano looks ridiculous dressed as a boy and the stage action makes it impossible to believe that she survived the stabbing by Sparafucile. The truth of Verdi’s music and fine singing can overcome that reaction, but a talented director can also help, by re-conceptualizing the scene. On an abstract set, in some other historical context or in contemporary dress, the action no longer feels cramped by expectations of theatrical naturalism. At least, that’s the idea…
Verdi and Piave’s La Forza del Destino can make Rigoletto’s story seem like something from Samuel Beckett. After an opening built around an errant gunshot that kills the enraged father of Leonora, who is about to elope with her lover Don Alvaro, the rest of the opera belabors coincidence amid tangentially related episodes (what does Preziosilla have to do with anything?) as Leonora’s brother seeks revenge on both his sister and her lover. No one who knows his work expects David Pountney to go the traditional route with this opera.
After viewing the 2008 production of Forza Pountney brought to the Vienna State Opera, however, the question is, what route did he choose? Working with set designer Richard Hudson, Pountney strips the opera of any geographical reality. The first half plays out on a white ramp with one end closed off in the shape of a wall. For the second half, with its battle scenes, some tower structures are added, with the platform remaining as a foundation. Costuming of the three leads tends to the drab and ordinary, with a decidedly contemporary look to the suits Hudson provides the men. Then Preziosilla dances on in a cowgirl costume, surrounded by Vegas showboys and showgirls in complementary outfits, and that fatal whiff of directorial condescension to the material creeps in. Instead of diverting a contemporary audience from the problematic nature of the Forza libretto, Pountney’s approach emphasizes the weaknesses.
The only strength Pountney brings to the show comes in his work with Nina Stemme, the Leonora. She is a tragic character almost from the start and as such risks tiring an audience with her constant pathetic appeal. Stemme adds a core of strength to the character, and though her voice lacks that warmth often called “Italianate,” her secure and smooth delivery are admirable. As her brother, Carlos Álvarez spends the entire show glowering, and though he has the right sound for the part — masculine, authoritative — he borders on comic villainy. The late Salvatore Licitra demonstrates why his once-promising career never quite fulfilled itself. He looks good, and at moments has exactly the heroic tenor sound one wants. Then he slips into lazy phrasing and passages where his intonation veers sadly off-course. Still, with so few singers able to take on these roles these days, his loss remains a very sad one.
Add to Pountney’s “ideas” having Alastair Miles sing both Leonora’s father and Padre Guardino. Miles handles both parts with impressive command, but if some point is being made, it barely seems worth considering. And do the tunics Miles and Licitra have to wear in the opening and closing scenes have some symbolic import? If not, they do serve the function of being unattractive.
Zubin Mehta also conducted a Forza released on DVD a few years ago. He knows his Verdi, and the singers never lack for dramatic support. The Unitel set has a thin booklet and no other special features. The credit sequence, with its animated sequence of a gun firing a bullet superimposed over rehearsal footage is a bad mixture of possibly good individual ideas. Even worse is when the gun imagery returns during the opera proper. Karina Fibich, credited as video director, should have rethought that one (perhaps it was Pountney’s idea).
So, for Forza on DVD, the best choice remains that old black and white version with Tebaldi and Corelli, on sets so flimsy they wrinkle when touched. It is doubtful even those singers could save, however, Pountney’s misguided approach.
Chris Mullins