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.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
20 Under Appreciated Singers of the Past - 3 (Gerhard Hüsch)
Gerhard Heinrich Wilhelm Fritz Hüsch, or as he was more commonly known - Gerhard Hüsch, was born on 2 February 1901 in Hannover, Germany. He started his education studying acting and then later took up singing. He quickly proved to be among the finest comic actors in the German opera system and in 1925 began singing regularly in Berlin. Soon after he spread his reach throughout Germany and Austria. By the 1930s he was singing at The Royal Opera House, Covent Garden and La Scala in Milan as well.
He was perhaps best known in the opera world for his portrayal of Papageno in Mozart's Die Zauberflöte. in 1937 he recorded the role in its entirety with Sir Thomas Beecham and the Berlin Philharmonic. He sang other roles often as well, including Wolfram von Eschenbach in Wagner's Tannhäuser, which he sang in 1930 and 1931 at the Bayreuther Festspiel.
He didn't have the large, dramatic voice of his contemporaries like Rudolf Bockelmann, Heinrich Schlusnus or Herbert Janssen, but he made up for it with an unfailing legato, a beautifully rounded tone and impeccable, lucid diction.
Among all this opera, his professional focus alway really remained the Lied. Between the world wars, he recorded a huge amount of Lieder; primarily Schubert and Beethoven, but also Wolf and Pfitzner (many with Hans Pfitzner accompanying him at the piano).
Another notable benchmark of his career is his debut of many songs by the obscure Finnish composer Yrjö Kilpinen.
I have always admired Hüsch for his voice as well as his dedication to the Lied even before it was "cool"
I am certain you will too.
He was perhaps best known in the opera world for his portrayal of Papageno in Mozart's Die Zauberflöte. in 1937 he recorded the role in its entirety with Sir Thomas Beecham and the Berlin Philharmonic. He sang other roles often as well, including Wolfram von Eschenbach in Wagner's Tannhäuser, which he sang in 1930 and 1931 at the Bayreuther Festspiel.
He didn't have the large, dramatic voice of his contemporaries like Rudolf Bockelmann, Heinrich Schlusnus or Herbert Janssen, but he made up for it with an unfailing legato, a beautifully rounded tone and impeccable, lucid diction.
Among all this opera, his professional focus alway really remained the Lied. Between the world wars, he recorded a huge amount of Lieder; primarily Schubert and Beethoven, but also Wolf and Pfitzner (many with Hans Pfitzner accompanying him at the piano).
Another notable benchmark of his career is his debut of many songs by the obscure Finnish composer Yrjö Kilpinen.
I have always admired Hüsch for his voice as well as his dedication to the Lied even before it was "cool"
I am certain you will too.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
20 Under Appreciated Singers of the Past - 2 (Lisa della Casa)
For many, many years, the world has known Lisa Della Casa for one thing and one thing alone: Richard Strauss's Arabella. Unfortunately most of the world doesn't even know her for that. There is truly one real reason why the musical world of today doesn't know her, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf.
By politely naming Della Casa as the greatest Arabella, it allows Schwarzkopf to reign supreme in all the other Strauss roles that are "more important." Don't get me wrong, I love Elisabeth Schwarzkopf. Any one who has read this blog would know that, but I adore Della Casa. It is a shame that she had to be such a close contemporary and fach to THE Schwarzkopf. She deserved better.
The Swiss soprano started her performing career in small swiss films and plays which her father, a doctor, put on in his spare time. He had a passion for the theatre. She sang with the Zürich Municipal Opera House from 1943 to 1950, where she sang a wide range of roles from die Königin der Nacht in Die Zauberflöte to Dorabella in Così Fan Tutte. When she sang Zdenka in Arabella at the Salzburger Festspiele in 1947 with Maria Reining and Hans Hotter, Strauss himself said, "Die kleine Della Casa wird eines Tages Arabella sein!" or "The little Della Casa will one day be Arabella!"
Like all the great German/Austrian/Swiss singers of the day, her specialty was Strauss and Mozart and occasionally the lighter Wagner heroines. Her Strauss was phenomenal. She was the greatest Arabella the world will ever know, her Countess in Capriccio easily matches Schwarzkopf's, her Ariadne is beautiful, she sang a mean Chrysotemis in Elektra, and she has been recorded singing all three leading roles in Der Rosenkavalier. Marschallin being the most wonderful, but Octavian and Sophie are both admirably sung as well.
Her Contessa di Almaviva is legendary, her Donna Elvira is perfection, and her Pamina is practically without equal.
I also recommend her Elsa in Lohengrin and her Eva in Die Meistersinger.
She sang all these roles with such impeccable style and finesse. She was always the picture, physically and vocally, of beauty and elegance. She was at one point dubbed the most beautiful woman on the operatic stage. She reminds us of that long lost time when the Opera world was elegant, tasteful and sophisticated onstage and off.
She turned 93 last February and is still kicking, living in a castle on Lake Constance in Switzerland (Schloß Gottelieben am Bodensee).
These are some wonderful examples of her Mozart and Strauss. I can't think of a better small representation of her wonderful voice, personality and presence in the world of opera.
For those of you who speak German, check out this great (short) documentary about her life that aired on German TV when she turned 90. Be prepared… some of this interview is in Swiss German…
I hope you all have a new favourite singer after this short introduction. She personifies elegance and her silvery voice rings in my ears whenever I think about the good ol' days of opera.
- Christopher Michael Kelley
By politely naming Della Casa as the greatest Arabella, it allows Schwarzkopf to reign supreme in all the other Strauss roles that are "more important." Don't get me wrong, I love Elisabeth Schwarzkopf. Any one who has read this blog would know that, but I adore Della Casa. It is a shame that she had to be such a close contemporary and fach to THE Schwarzkopf. She deserved better.
The Swiss soprano started her performing career in small swiss films and plays which her father, a doctor, put on in his spare time. He had a passion for the theatre. She sang with the Zürich Municipal Opera House from 1943 to 1950, where she sang a wide range of roles from die Königin der Nacht in Die Zauberflöte to Dorabella in Così Fan Tutte. When she sang Zdenka in Arabella at the Salzburger Festspiele in 1947 with Maria Reining and Hans Hotter, Strauss himself said, "Die kleine Della Casa wird eines Tages Arabella sein!" or "The little Della Casa will one day be Arabella!"
Like all the great German/Austrian/Swiss singers of the day, her specialty was Strauss and Mozart and occasionally the lighter Wagner heroines. Her Strauss was phenomenal. She was the greatest Arabella the world will ever know, her Countess in Capriccio easily matches Schwarzkopf's, her Ariadne is beautiful, she sang a mean Chrysotemis in Elektra, and she has been recorded singing all three leading roles in Der Rosenkavalier. Marschallin being the most wonderful, but Octavian and Sophie are both admirably sung as well.
Her Contessa di Almaviva is legendary, her Donna Elvira is perfection, and her Pamina is practically without equal.
I also recommend her Elsa in Lohengrin and her Eva in Die Meistersinger.
She sang all these roles with such impeccable style and finesse. She was always the picture, physically and vocally, of beauty and elegance. She was at one point dubbed the most beautiful woman on the operatic stage. She reminds us of that long lost time when the Opera world was elegant, tasteful and sophisticated onstage and off.
She turned 93 last February and is still kicking, living in a castle on Lake Constance in Switzerland (Schloß Gottelieben am Bodensee).
These are some wonderful examples of her Mozart and Strauss. I can't think of a better small representation of her wonderful voice, personality and presence in the world of opera.
For those of you who speak German, check out this great (short) documentary about her life that aired on German TV when she turned 90. Be prepared… some of this interview is in Swiss German…
I hope you all have a new favourite singer after this short introduction. She personifies elegance and her silvery voice rings in my ears whenever I think about the good ol' days of opera.
- Christopher Michael Kelley
Sunday, May 20, 2012
RECORDING OF THE MONTH- May 2012: FAUST by GOUNOD
It is high time for me to spice this blog up with a little French flair. As my life is full of French music at the moment, I could think of no better time than the present. I assumed I would review Les Contes d'Hoffmann by Offenbach, primarily because everyone in my daily interactions right now thinks so highly of the work that it is one of the most frequent topics of discussion, but honestly I am just not all that familiar with the work. I don't know it well enough to speak with ANY kind of authority on the subject. Something I plan on remedying in the not too distant future.
However a French opera I do know pretty well is Faust by Charles Gounod. Now, to start, I have to say that to literary gurus, this libretto dashes Goethe's Faust to pieces. It mutilates and perverts Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's original intent until it becomes a work unto itself with only a slight resemblance of the brilliant work that it comes from… BUT… it truly is a wonderful old school French opera. Nobody wrote melodies like Gounod and this score is riddled with them. I assumed from the get go that I would review the somewhat legendary 1959 EMI set conducted by André Cluytens with Nicolai Gedda, Victoria de los Angeles, Boris Christoff, Ernest Blanc, Rita Gorr etc. but as much of a benchmark as it is, it leaves me feeling somewhat ambivalent. So instead, I have chosen the 1994 Teldec recording conducted by Carlo Rizzi:
Faust - Jerry Hadley
Méphistofélès - Samuel Ramey
Marguerite - Cecilia Gasdia
Valentin - Alexandru Agache
Siébel - Susanne Mentzer
Marthe Schwerlein - Brigitte Fassbaender
and the Welsh National Opera Orchestra & Chorus
This truly is a great recording. I was skeptical at first. For some reason I had a hard time trusting the French style to an Italian conducting Welsh people… I was wrong. This performance, while not entirely traditional, is absolutely stylistically spot on.
First of all, one would assume that the only real reason to buy this recording would be for the Devil of Samuel Ramey. Truly one of the great roles of his career. He sings Méphistofélès here in prime voice. To young male singers (especially the lower voiced singers) Samuel Ramey has attained a near Godly reputation. All of us at some level consider him somewhat of a "God walking amongst mere mortals"… or perhaps a demon as the case may be… He sings this role with excellent French. He manipulates and deceives throughout the opera with hints of the subtlety of Journet and Plançon, and balances that with some of that Chaliapin slavic school of snarl that is so pervasive in Boris Christoff's interpretation of this role... every role he sang actually. It works for Ramfis (Aida) and Boris, and here to some extent, but not so much in roles like Padre Guardiano (Forza) or Silva (Ernani). And neither of them have the suave subtlety of Cesare Siepi. But while Ramey does in fact do an excellent and noteworthy job, much to my chagrin, he is not ultimatley the draw of the recording. Ramey is a wonderful sounding Méphistofélès but when push comes to shove, he is somewhat boring. The role has so much potential to "play" and he just doesn't take advantage of it. He is great on the disc but compared to some of his less respected colleagues on this set he doesn't quite deliver as expected.
The late Jerry Hadley really comes through with his idiomatic performance of the desperate and tortured Doctor Faust. He sings the opening scene with such beautiful melancholy that we almost forget what a slow start it gives the opera. The rest of the role is sung par excellence with a legato and musical continuity that one just does not hear in his Italian repertoire. He sings with such tenderness in moments like the love duet, and the climax of his aria, Salut, demeure chaste et pure, is sung with a true piano (as written by the composer). He makes this note, that most use to show off their powerful top C, a moment of introspection. He floats up to the C with a gentle ardency that stays much more in keeping with the line of the aria than most interpretations. His moments of passion are also much more committed than one would expect from such a lyric voice. Gedda, probably the most beloved Faust of his era, said himself that he didn't like the role of Faust. It is too one dimensional and not in keeping with Goethe's concept, so he never sang the role as much more than beautiful music. Jerry Hadley takes what he is given and brings it to life in a magical and honest way.
The relatively unknown Cecilia Gasdia of Verona delivers a performance as good or better than her wonderful aforementioned counterparts. Her voice is bright and glistening, and her characterization is impeccable. A young, vulnerable, spiritual girl with a blinding, innocent love for her "young" suitor, Faust. She does the Jewel Song in a way that seems genuinely delighted and fresh, as if we hadn't heard the aria 5,000 times. She almost succeeds even in the impossible task of giving life to Gounod's dull setting of Il Était Un Roi De Thulé. One of the highlights of the whole opera is the last scene when her pleading for salvation is so impassioned one is easily swept away in her desperation. She gives a detailed character with equal commitment to de los Angeles's famed performance, but with admittedly more depth. Gasdia, remarkably, is able to bring Marguerite to the forefront of the drama through her committed interpretation, even if Gounod chose not to.
The secondary characters are well cast too for the most part. Valentin is sung here by the Romanian baritone Alexandru Agache. His voice is not the most beautiful, but he sings an admirable soldier, even if it is often over-covered and occasionally a bit flat, but what he lacks in voice, he makes up for in truly great character interpretation. He is ardent and true and brings dimension to what is usually a bit of a cardboard stock character. This is best heard in his death scene, Ecoute-moi bien, Marguerite! Siébel is sung with light, silvery voice by Susanne Mentzer. She doesn't offer the role a whole lot in her approach, but she delivers an attractive and consistent performance. The novelty casting of THE Brigitte Fassbaender in the role of Marthe Schwerlein is a wonderful part of this recording, although it pales in comparison to the vanity casting of Rita Gorr in the Cluytens recording. However, since it isn't too much of a role to begin with, neither have much of an effect on the outcome of the set.
Lastly Carlo Rizzi really does deliver a wonderful reading. He takes quite a few unusual tempi, mostly incredibly slow (coming in at around 3:10, where the Cluytens comes in around 2:51). While I would not take most of these tempi so slow, I think it can definitely work. It is a grandiose and monumental opera and the slower tempi really emphasize that side of the work. The Welsh National Opera Chorus responds well to his baton, turning out some of the cleanest ensemble singing I have ever heard, and the orchestra rejoices and weeps along with the singers throughout the work. I really appreciate that, and while they did cut the ballet numbers, they still recorded them as an appendix.
Lastly, I would say that this recording really is a wonderful way to get to know this opera. The Cluytens is definitely more traditional, and the singing is some of the best you'll find on any recording of the opera. However for dimension, sensitivity, and passion I would recommend this recording above all the other usual options.
- Christopher Michael Kelley
PS. I actually would probably first and foremost recommend the live Met recording from the early 50s with Jussi Björling, Dorothy Kirsten, and Cesare Siepi, that is if you can handle some, er, not so perfect French diction… but that recording is nearly impossible to find these days. If you do find it… please let me know where. ;)
However a French opera I do know pretty well is Faust by Charles Gounod. Now, to start, I have to say that to literary gurus, this libretto dashes Goethe's Faust to pieces. It mutilates and perverts Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's original intent until it becomes a work unto itself with only a slight resemblance of the brilliant work that it comes from… BUT… it truly is a wonderful old school French opera. Nobody wrote melodies like Gounod and this score is riddled with them. I assumed from the get go that I would review the somewhat legendary 1959 EMI set conducted by André Cluytens with Nicolai Gedda, Victoria de los Angeles, Boris Christoff, Ernest Blanc, Rita Gorr etc. but as much of a benchmark as it is, it leaves me feeling somewhat ambivalent. So instead, I have chosen the 1994 Teldec recording conducted by Carlo Rizzi:
Faust - Jerry Hadley
Méphistofélès - Samuel Ramey
Marguerite - Cecilia Gasdia
Valentin - Alexandru Agache
Siébel - Susanne Mentzer
Marthe Schwerlein - Brigitte Fassbaender
and the Welsh National Opera Orchestra & Chorus
This truly is a great recording. I was skeptical at first. For some reason I had a hard time trusting the French style to an Italian conducting Welsh people… I was wrong. This performance, while not entirely traditional, is absolutely stylistically spot on.
First of all, one would assume that the only real reason to buy this recording would be for the Devil of Samuel Ramey. Truly one of the great roles of his career. He sings Méphistofélès here in prime voice. To young male singers (especially the lower voiced singers) Samuel Ramey has attained a near Godly reputation. All of us at some level consider him somewhat of a "God walking amongst mere mortals"… or perhaps a demon as the case may be… He sings this role with excellent French. He manipulates and deceives throughout the opera with hints of the subtlety of Journet and Plançon, and balances that with some of that Chaliapin slavic school of snarl that is so pervasive in Boris Christoff's interpretation of this role... every role he sang actually. It works for Ramfis (Aida) and Boris, and here to some extent, but not so much in roles like Padre Guardiano (Forza) or Silva (Ernani). And neither of them have the suave subtlety of Cesare Siepi. But while Ramey does in fact do an excellent and noteworthy job, much to my chagrin, he is not ultimatley the draw of the recording. Ramey is a wonderful sounding Méphistofélès but when push comes to shove, he is somewhat boring. The role has so much potential to "play" and he just doesn't take advantage of it. He is great on the disc but compared to some of his less respected colleagues on this set he doesn't quite deliver as expected.
The late Jerry Hadley really comes through with his idiomatic performance of the desperate and tortured Doctor Faust. He sings the opening scene with such beautiful melancholy that we almost forget what a slow start it gives the opera. The rest of the role is sung par excellence with a legato and musical continuity that one just does not hear in his Italian repertoire. He sings with such tenderness in moments like the love duet, and the climax of his aria, Salut, demeure chaste et pure, is sung with a true piano (as written by the composer). He makes this note, that most use to show off their powerful top C, a moment of introspection. He floats up to the C with a gentle ardency that stays much more in keeping with the line of the aria than most interpretations. His moments of passion are also much more committed than one would expect from such a lyric voice. Gedda, probably the most beloved Faust of his era, said himself that he didn't like the role of Faust. It is too one dimensional and not in keeping with Goethe's concept, so he never sang the role as much more than beautiful music. Jerry Hadley takes what he is given and brings it to life in a magical and honest way.
The relatively unknown Cecilia Gasdia of Verona delivers a performance as good or better than her wonderful aforementioned counterparts. Her voice is bright and glistening, and her characterization is impeccable. A young, vulnerable, spiritual girl with a blinding, innocent love for her "young" suitor, Faust. She does the Jewel Song in a way that seems genuinely delighted and fresh, as if we hadn't heard the aria 5,000 times. She almost succeeds even in the impossible task of giving life to Gounod's dull setting of Il Était Un Roi De Thulé. One of the highlights of the whole opera is the last scene when her pleading for salvation is so impassioned one is easily swept away in her desperation. She gives a detailed character with equal commitment to de los Angeles's famed performance, but with admittedly more depth. Gasdia, remarkably, is able to bring Marguerite to the forefront of the drama through her committed interpretation, even if Gounod chose not to.
The secondary characters are well cast too for the most part. Valentin is sung here by the Romanian baritone Alexandru Agache. His voice is not the most beautiful, but he sings an admirable soldier, even if it is often over-covered and occasionally a bit flat, but what he lacks in voice, he makes up for in truly great character interpretation. He is ardent and true and brings dimension to what is usually a bit of a cardboard stock character. This is best heard in his death scene, Ecoute-moi bien, Marguerite! Siébel is sung with light, silvery voice by Susanne Mentzer. She doesn't offer the role a whole lot in her approach, but she delivers an attractive and consistent performance. The novelty casting of THE Brigitte Fassbaender in the role of Marthe Schwerlein is a wonderful part of this recording, although it pales in comparison to the vanity casting of Rita Gorr in the Cluytens recording. However, since it isn't too much of a role to begin with, neither have much of an effect on the outcome of the set.
Lastly Carlo Rizzi really does deliver a wonderful reading. He takes quite a few unusual tempi, mostly incredibly slow (coming in at around 3:10, where the Cluytens comes in around 2:51). While I would not take most of these tempi so slow, I think it can definitely work. It is a grandiose and monumental opera and the slower tempi really emphasize that side of the work. The Welsh National Opera Chorus responds well to his baton, turning out some of the cleanest ensemble singing I have ever heard, and the orchestra rejoices and weeps along with the singers throughout the work. I really appreciate that, and while they did cut the ballet numbers, they still recorded them as an appendix.
Lastly, I would say that this recording really is a wonderful way to get to know this opera. The Cluytens is definitely more traditional, and the singing is some of the best you'll find on any recording of the opera. However for dimension, sensitivity, and passion I would recommend this recording above all the other usual options.
- Christopher Michael Kelley
PS. I actually would probably first and foremost recommend the live Met recording from the early 50s with Jussi Björling, Dorothy Kirsten, and Cesare Siepi, that is if you can handle some, er, not so perfect French diction… but that recording is nearly impossible to find these days. If you do find it… please let me know where. ;)
Friday, May 18, 2012
In Memorium - Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (1925-2012)
This morning, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, described once as "the most influential singer of the 20th Century", passed away just ten days before his 87th birthday.
While many people did not care for the quality of his voice, that he himself once compared to the gentle hum of an oboe, it is undeniable that he left a legacy that is perhaps unmatched. He is the single most recorded singer in history and he has brought the art of Song to the masses single handedly.
What Pavarotti did for opera, Fischer-Dieskau did for song. He took what was for all intent and purpose a dying art form, and revived it through his phenomenal word colouring, his unmatched text understanding, and his impeccable style. He was an artist, a scholar, and a pioneer. He pioneered not only in the interpretation of song, but also in the way the classical music industry records music, all this while maintaining a standard of artistic integrity that few singers, nay musicians, have ever matched.
I am not going to discuss the synopsis of his life; that can be found on a number of websites, and will certainly be discussed in the coming days, but I will leave you all with one slightly more personal bit of information.
He is the single most influential singer in my life. As a teenager, my parents gave me a recording of Fischer-Dieskau singing Schubert's Die schöne Müllerin and it was this gift that spurred what would become a life long love affair with Song, more specifically Lieder, and in effect, the German language as a whole.
The gentleness of tone, the undiluted sensitivity, and the naturalness of his use of words that Fischer-Dieskau was capable of will continue to inspire me every day of my life. Luckily he will live on in his recordings, his writings and his paintings.
He will not be forgotten.
R.I.P.
While many people did not care for the quality of his voice, that he himself once compared to the gentle hum of an oboe, it is undeniable that he left a legacy that is perhaps unmatched. He is the single most recorded singer in history and he has brought the art of Song to the masses single handedly.
What Pavarotti did for opera, Fischer-Dieskau did for song. He took what was for all intent and purpose a dying art form, and revived it through his phenomenal word colouring, his unmatched text understanding, and his impeccable style. He was an artist, a scholar, and a pioneer. He pioneered not only in the interpretation of song, but also in the way the classical music industry records music, all this while maintaining a standard of artistic integrity that few singers, nay musicians, have ever matched.
I am not going to discuss the synopsis of his life; that can be found on a number of websites, and will certainly be discussed in the coming days, but I will leave you all with one slightly more personal bit of information.
He is the single most influential singer in my life. As a teenager, my parents gave me a recording of Fischer-Dieskau singing Schubert's Die schöne Müllerin and it was this gift that spurred what would become a life long love affair with Song, more specifically Lieder, and in effect, the German language as a whole.
The gentleness of tone, the undiluted sensitivity, and the naturalness of his use of words that Fischer-Dieskau was capable of will continue to inspire me every day of my life. Luckily he will live on in his recordings, his writings and his paintings.
He will not be forgotten.
R.I.P.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
20 Under Appreciated Singers of the Past - 1 (Leo Slezak)
This is the first post in a series I am doing about some of the under appreciated singers of the past.
In our age of YAP Tracker and Twitter, Netrebko and De Niese, and Peter Sellars and Julie Taymor, I have noticed that some younger singers are all too unfamiliar with some of the great singers of the past that maybe didn't have the same output of recordings or weren't in the latest HD Met Broadcast. This series is just a source for some of my fellow young singers to discover some fantastic voices before they are lost in the depths of the archives of great opera houses forever.
The first of this series is tenor Leo Slezak (1873-1946)
Slezak had an interesting voice. He was a large man with a very present voice that was fully capable of singing dramatic passages, he also sang quite a lot of Wagner. While some people call him a Heldentenor, I disagree. I think he was a lyric tenor with an amazing capacity for dynamics and power. He sang Tristan and Siegfried for a short time but then decided to put them away as he was worried about the long term effects that the roles would have on his voice. He was extremely well known for his Otello, oddly enough. He was able to float some of the most beautiful pianissimo high notes of his time and his top register has as much (if not more) ease as Luciano Pavarotti's. Slezak had a voice with such a unique and individual colour and timbre that after one listen one can never truly forget it.
Whether you are hearing this familiar old singer one more time, or whether you are hearing this golden age master for the first time, enjoy!
In our age of YAP Tracker and Twitter, Netrebko and De Niese, and Peter Sellars and Julie Taymor, I have noticed that some younger singers are all too unfamiliar with some of the great singers of the past that maybe didn't have the same output of recordings or weren't in the latest HD Met Broadcast. This series is just a source for some of my fellow young singers to discover some fantastic voices before they are lost in the depths of the archives of great opera houses forever.
The first of this series is tenor Leo Slezak (1873-1946)
Slezak had an interesting voice. He was a large man with a very present voice that was fully capable of singing dramatic passages, he also sang quite a lot of Wagner. While some people call him a Heldentenor, I disagree. I think he was a lyric tenor with an amazing capacity for dynamics and power. He sang Tristan and Siegfried for a short time but then decided to put them away as he was worried about the long term effects that the roles would have on his voice. He was extremely well known for his Otello, oddly enough. He was able to float some of the most beautiful pianissimo high notes of his time and his top register has as much (if not more) ease as Luciano Pavarotti's. Slezak had a voice with such a unique and individual colour and timbre that after one listen one can never truly forget it.
Whether you are hearing this familiar old singer one more time, or whether you are hearing this golden age master for the first time, enjoy!
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
RECORDING OF THE MONTH- April 2012: IL BARBIERE DI SIVIGLIA by ROSSINI
For those of you who know me personally, you will know that bel canto is not exactly "my thing"… It isn't that I dislike it, I think it has its place and some of the vocal writing is, naturally, some of the most beautiful, however, I have never really felt a connection with the bel canto repertoire like I have with many other styles of opera.
With that said, there are times when nothing can satisfy like a frivolous frolic through an Opera Buffa by Rossini or Donizetti. It was time to tackle a review of a bel canto opera. I thought it best to start with the Grandfather and essentially the creator of what we know as Italian Opera- Gioachino Rossini. When looking at his works, how could you start anywhere but the 1916 super hit, Il Barbiere di Siviglia?
When deciding on which recording to review, I had some major issues (different issues, that is, than the ones that usually preside in my daily life). There are a lot of recordings I listen to on a regular basis, all for different reasons.
One of my absolute favourites is Sir Neville Marriner's stylish 1982 reading with Sir Thomas Allen, Francisco Araiza, Agnes Baltsa, and Robert Lloyd. Thomas Allen rocks the role of Figaro, and Araiza sings Almaviva like a God. Baltsa dances through the opera with that lean tone and glistening high notes we expect from her.
The 1975 recording by James Levine for example is always a solid choice. With singers like, Sherrill Milnes, Nicolai Gedda, and (possibly the greatest Rosina) Beverly Sills, how can you go wrong?
The 2008 live set by Miguel Gómez-Martínez with Nathan Gunn, Elina Garanča, and Lawrence Brownlee is also fun. The first recording of the opera in over a decade, it is live, which is always a draw, and Lawrence Brownlee gives what is possibly the best sung Almaviva in 50+ years. However, while Gunn is incredibly charming, he does lack some of the required bravado to my ear, and Garanča, whose voice has been described as "smoky and voluptuous" doesn't exactly fit the mold of what should be a spirited young girl. She is more of a petulant, young temptress.
Also, one mustn't omit the Leinsdorf recording with Roberta Peters, Robert Merrill, Cesare Valletti and Giorgio Tozzi!
Those are a few examples of many, but to get to the point, I had to chose one. I had decided on the 1962 Glyndebourne set by Vittorio Gui with EMI. Victoria de los Angeles, Sesto Bruscantini as Figaro, and Luigi Alva as Almaviva. Fabulous singing. Wonderful conducting. Possibly lacking in some of the "fun" as it is essentially a come scritto performance that is true to the score for recording purposes, but the conducting is swift and energized and the intent is all in the right place, it is inherently Italianate and who could ask for much more?
At the last minute, I had a change of heart. When all is said and done, I just couldn't bring myself to chose a recording where the Rosina is sung by a soprano. I am, at the core, a huge purist, and while some of the greatest Rosinas have been sopranos, and I would argue that MOST of the recorded documentation is sung by sopranos, we shan't forget that Rossini wrote it FOR a mezzo and it should be cast accordingly. Therefore when push came to shove, I chose this one.
The 1989 Decca disc conducted by Giuseppe Patanè very shortly before his untimely death in München. The cast is Italian and nearly unbeatable.
Figaro - Leo Nucci
Rosina - Cecilia Bartoli
Il Conte d'Almaviva - William Matteuzzi
Bartolo - Enrico Fissore
Basilio - Paata Burchuladze
Ochestra e coro del Teatro Comunale di Bologna
Leo Nucci, perhaps NOW known more for his Verdian singing, shines here as Figaro. A few years before he started in with the heaviest Verdi roles, his voice sounds healthy and effortless. His high As pop off in his entrance aria with precision and plenty of that expected bravado. He plots his way through this score with the confidence that we all wish we had at times, making it more than apparent that he is a native speaker. Constantly playing with the language and colouring the words with every twist and turn of the plot, keeping even the most Italian-impared eager and enthralled.
William Matteuzzi perhaps doesn't have a voice that appeals to everyone, however his light Italian tenor is suited perfectly to the Rossini and Donizetti repertoire. He uses the voice to act the role from his most noble moments as Count Almaviva to his most silly and drunken moments as Lindoro and his buffo characterization of Basilio in that ridiculously star-crossed voice lesson. In his first act arias, his ornaments gently dance like the flickering flame of a candle and his top notes resonate with ease and charm. It is a shame that for whatever reason he did not sing the final aria on this reading. Cessa di più resistere is by and large one of the most thrilling and challenging bel canto arias for tenori and it is not surprising or unusual that this aria to be cut. Most tenors just simply cannot sing it. I highly encourage you to look up the recording of Francisco Araiza, or more recently, Lawrence Brownlee singing this aria. Their energy and accuracy will amaze you and the shimmering ring of their top notes will leave you nearly speechless.
The bassos are wonderfully sung by Paata Burchuladze (Basilio) and Enrico Fissore (Bartolo) in an admirably buffo style. They bumble and bounce around the score with adequate mischief while trying to foil the romantic intentions of these young lovers. Burchuladze's comic accomplishments are balanced by his vocal prowess, seen with his high G at the end of La calunnia - reminding us that he focuses much of his time, not with the Buffo roles of Rossini, but the roles of Verdi and the old Russian masters. The equally adept Fissore performs with style the (also often cut) A un dottor della mia sorte with comic flare and relatively clean diction, which is not an easy feat.
At the heart of this blithe and convivial romp of an opera, is the, then, 23 year-old Cecilia Bartoli. You will not hear the Cecilia here that we all know with her bright, glistening voice that glides through high tessituri with a soprano-like brilliance, but a much more "mezzo-like", rich colour. Her dark, young, taffy-like tone trills and parades through this score with such leisure that one might think it was written for her. Her occasional ornament into her upper-extension is a clear sign as to what her career would eventually become and the low Gs that litter the role are all solid enough. While most mezzos find it difficult to sound youthful and perky, Bartoli seems to manage without the slightest trouble. Her voice, in truth, doesn't have the subtlety and consistency that it has now, but she was 23 and a role recording of this caliber would be a triumph for any 23 year old.
Ultimately what makes this recording so excellent is the fun that they are having. Led by Giuseppe Patanè, we can tell that everyone involved in this recording is truly having a blast doing it. Because the cast (and orchestra) is dominated so heavily by Italians, the words come to life in a funhouse of twisting and twirling that reminds one what Opera Buffa is all about… what Opera is all about… what music is all about.
Joy.
Even the most ängstlich of music is truly about the joy of communicating and relating in some way to the audience. Without that joy of reaching out and touching others, why are we doing this?
This is a fabulous recording. For anyone who isn't a Mezzo or for that matter, a crippling purist like myself, I would HIGHLY recommend the wonderful 1963 recording by Gui with de los Angeles and Bruscantini and Luigi Alva. But one recording that is easily equal, and more accurate historically to what the composer originally intended (which I really support, see: René Jacobs), is this gem. Check it out if you want a good time. ;)
-Christopher Michael Kelley
P.S. Next month... FRENCH!
With that said, there are times when nothing can satisfy like a frivolous frolic through an Opera Buffa by Rossini or Donizetti. It was time to tackle a review of a bel canto opera. I thought it best to start with the Grandfather and essentially the creator of what we know as Italian Opera- Gioachino Rossini. When looking at his works, how could you start anywhere but the 1916 super hit, Il Barbiere di Siviglia?
When deciding on which recording to review, I had some major issues (different issues, that is, than the ones that usually preside in my daily life). There are a lot of recordings I listen to on a regular basis, all for different reasons.
One of my absolute favourites is Sir Neville Marriner's stylish 1982 reading with Sir Thomas Allen, Francisco Araiza, Agnes Baltsa, and Robert Lloyd. Thomas Allen rocks the role of Figaro, and Araiza sings Almaviva like a God. Baltsa dances through the opera with that lean tone and glistening high notes we expect from her.
The 1975 recording by James Levine for example is always a solid choice. With singers like, Sherrill Milnes, Nicolai Gedda, and (possibly the greatest Rosina) Beverly Sills, how can you go wrong?
The 2008 live set by Miguel Gómez-Martínez with Nathan Gunn, Elina Garanča, and Lawrence Brownlee is also fun. The first recording of the opera in over a decade, it is live, which is always a draw, and Lawrence Brownlee gives what is possibly the best sung Almaviva in 50+ years. However, while Gunn is incredibly charming, he does lack some of the required bravado to my ear, and Garanča, whose voice has been described as "smoky and voluptuous" doesn't exactly fit the mold of what should be a spirited young girl. She is more of a petulant, young temptress.
Also, one mustn't omit the Leinsdorf recording with Roberta Peters, Robert Merrill, Cesare Valletti and Giorgio Tozzi!
Those are a few examples of many, but to get to the point, I had to chose one. I had decided on the 1962 Glyndebourne set by Vittorio Gui with EMI. Victoria de los Angeles, Sesto Bruscantini as Figaro, and Luigi Alva as Almaviva. Fabulous singing. Wonderful conducting. Possibly lacking in some of the "fun" as it is essentially a come scritto performance that is true to the score for recording purposes, but the conducting is swift and energized and the intent is all in the right place, it is inherently Italianate and who could ask for much more?
At the last minute, I had a change of heart. When all is said and done, I just couldn't bring myself to chose a recording where the Rosina is sung by a soprano. I am, at the core, a huge purist, and while some of the greatest Rosinas have been sopranos, and I would argue that MOST of the recorded documentation is sung by sopranos, we shan't forget that Rossini wrote it FOR a mezzo and it should be cast accordingly. Therefore when push came to shove, I chose this one.
The 1989 Decca disc conducted by Giuseppe Patanè very shortly before his untimely death in München. The cast is Italian and nearly unbeatable.
Figaro - Leo Nucci
Rosina - Cecilia Bartoli
Il Conte d'Almaviva - William Matteuzzi
Bartolo - Enrico Fissore
Basilio - Paata Burchuladze
Ochestra e coro del Teatro Comunale di Bologna
Leo Nucci, perhaps NOW known more for his Verdian singing, shines here as Figaro. A few years before he started in with the heaviest Verdi roles, his voice sounds healthy and effortless. His high As pop off in his entrance aria with precision and plenty of that expected bravado. He plots his way through this score with the confidence that we all wish we had at times, making it more than apparent that he is a native speaker. Constantly playing with the language and colouring the words with every twist and turn of the plot, keeping even the most Italian-impared eager and enthralled.
William Matteuzzi perhaps doesn't have a voice that appeals to everyone, however his light Italian tenor is suited perfectly to the Rossini and Donizetti repertoire. He uses the voice to act the role from his most noble moments as Count Almaviva to his most silly and drunken moments as Lindoro and his buffo characterization of Basilio in that ridiculously star-crossed voice lesson. In his first act arias, his ornaments gently dance like the flickering flame of a candle and his top notes resonate with ease and charm. It is a shame that for whatever reason he did not sing the final aria on this reading. Cessa di più resistere is by and large one of the most thrilling and challenging bel canto arias for tenori and it is not surprising or unusual that this aria to be cut. Most tenors just simply cannot sing it. I highly encourage you to look up the recording of Francisco Araiza, or more recently, Lawrence Brownlee singing this aria. Their energy and accuracy will amaze you and the shimmering ring of their top notes will leave you nearly speechless.
The bassos are wonderfully sung by Paata Burchuladze (Basilio) and Enrico Fissore (Bartolo) in an admirably buffo style. They bumble and bounce around the score with adequate mischief while trying to foil the romantic intentions of these young lovers. Burchuladze's comic accomplishments are balanced by his vocal prowess, seen with his high G at the end of La calunnia - reminding us that he focuses much of his time, not with the Buffo roles of Rossini, but the roles of Verdi and the old Russian masters. The equally adept Fissore performs with style the (also often cut) A un dottor della mia sorte with comic flare and relatively clean diction, which is not an easy feat.
At the heart of this blithe and convivial romp of an opera, is the, then, 23 year-old Cecilia Bartoli. You will not hear the Cecilia here that we all know with her bright, glistening voice that glides through high tessituri with a soprano-like brilliance, but a much more "mezzo-like", rich colour. Her dark, young, taffy-like tone trills and parades through this score with such leisure that one might think it was written for her. Her occasional ornament into her upper-extension is a clear sign as to what her career would eventually become and the low Gs that litter the role are all solid enough. While most mezzos find it difficult to sound youthful and perky, Bartoli seems to manage without the slightest trouble. Her voice, in truth, doesn't have the subtlety and consistency that it has now, but she was 23 and a role recording of this caliber would be a triumph for any 23 year old.
Ultimately what makes this recording so excellent is the fun that they are having. Led by Giuseppe Patanè, we can tell that everyone involved in this recording is truly having a blast doing it. Because the cast (and orchestra) is dominated so heavily by Italians, the words come to life in a funhouse of twisting and twirling that reminds one what Opera Buffa is all about… what Opera is all about… what music is all about.
Joy.
Even the most ängstlich of music is truly about the joy of communicating and relating in some way to the audience. Without that joy of reaching out and touching others, why are we doing this?
This is a fabulous recording. For anyone who isn't a Mezzo or for that matter, a crippling purist like myself, I would HIGHLY recommend the wonderful 1963 recording by Gui with de los Angeles and Bruscantini and Luigi Alva. But one recording that is easily equal, and more accurate historically to what the composer originally intended (which I really support, see: René Jacobs), is this gem. Check it out if you want a good time. ;)
-Christopher Michael Kelley
P.S. Next month... FRENCH!
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