Wednesday, November 28, 2012

20 Under Appreciated Singers of the Past - 4 (Set Svanholm)

It has been quite a while since my last blog. I apologize for my extended period of blogging apathy, but sometimes it takes a cause to start the fire that inspires us to get back on the horse!

As of late I have had a new… well maybe not such a new cause.

When one sets their ears upon the Wagnerian recordings of the 40s, 50s, and even 60s, they cannot help but marvel at the richness and beauty and the warmth of this lush art. The singers voices during the golden days of Bayreuth would soar and glide through dense orchestrations that seemed to blend together into one gentle sound that brings the audience into the world of the drama. However, since the 1980s, for even the most Wagnerian among us, most recordings of his music seem forced and pushed and the voices like slabs of steel smacking down on an over sized and under sophisticated orchestra.

Why has Wagnerian singing fallen so rapidly by the way side??? Some claim that it is because 'Italianate singing' has taken over the pedagogic landscape these days… but I disagree. Listen to Gigli,  De Luca, Rosa Ponselle, Claudia Muzio… Hell, even the young Giuseppe di Stefano! If you know these singers, you know that there is NO Italianate singing going on right now in the world's vocal studios.

What is going on in the studio's of the world right now is science. Plain and simple. Science is the new vocal technique. It isn't that there isn't a place for this, there is. However between the homogenous recording industry and the new trend to discuss art as if it were calculous, we have lost any kind of individual style or identity in our singing. Along with this we have become uncomfortable with what we don't understand. Singers play it safe, and in truth, singing is still an enigma to some extent that cannot be explained, even though we THINK we can. Wagnerian singing has become taboo. People are afraid of it, and that's why there isn't a man alive today that can sing a Tristan that anybody would actually want to listen to.

But I digress. On 4 September 1904 Set Svanholm was born in Västerås, Sweden. At 17 years of age he started his musical career as a precentor, elementary school teacher, and and organist. He then went to the Royal University of Music in Stockholm and at this time began studying with none other than John Forsell. The Swedish baritone that taught Jussi Björling.

Svanholm made his debut as a baritone in 1930 singing the role of Silvio in Pagliacci. He has always had an easy upper register and started retraining himself on his own. Historian Dr. Marie-Louise Rodén claims that he called up his old voice teacher, John Forsell, and told him that he had a promising new tenor that he should hear, and surprised him by showing up himself. Then in February of 1936 he re-debuted as a tenor singing the solo in Beethoven's 9th Symphony, and operatically a few months later in a little role called Radames in Verdi's Aida. The following year at the ripe age of 33 he found his niche and debuted his first two Wagnerian tenor roles: Lohengrin and Siegfried. He Sang regularly at the Wiener Staatsoper from 1938-1942, at the Met from 1946-1956, and at he Royal Opera House in London from 1948-1957.

In 1956 he became the director at the Royal Swedish Opera and was until 1963.

In the memoirs of Kirsten Flagstad she remarks: "For me, there was only one Siegmund . . . that was Set."

His voice was deep, baritonal, and metallic, and it always maintained an inherent lyrical quality. He was an intelligent and sophisticated musician with an athletic physique, and he always adhered scrupulously to the score. These were all things that were appreciated by audiences after years of listening to his predecessor, Lauritz Melchior, who was nearing the end of his career. His interpretations could not be described that way…

He was a great example of healthy, yet pleasant sounding, stylistically appropriate Wagnerian singing. Hopefully the tide will turn and this is something that we will all hear again one day.