EMI have been good to this particular opera down the
years. In 1951 ace producer Walter Legge taped performances at the first
post-war Bayreuth Festival where the conductor was also Herbert von
Karajan. That wonderful set with its fabulous cast dominated the catalogue
for years, appearing on 78s, LPs and CDs (EMI 63500-2). Then just five
years later EMI's German wing, Electrola, recorded a great studio version
with Berlin Opera forces under Rudolf Kempe. Many people, myself included,
count that as one of the best versions ever made (EMI 64154-2). However,
like the Karajan Bayreuth version, that was made in mono and by the
late 1960s, with people demanding stereo, EMI were ready for another
version and the present recording was made. Even then they were not
finished because they would make a fourth recording, in Munich in 1993,
conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch (EMI 55142-2).
When it first came out in 1971 this Dresden recording
commanded enormous attention, including cover stories on the record
magazines, articles and features in the press, as well as detailed and
learned reviews that took in the performance as well as the nature and
importance of the work itself. Those were the days. Remember the cold
war was at its height and the Berlin Wall had been dividing Germany's
old capital just nine years, so it's hard to overestimate the significance
of a British company journeying to East Germany to record that most
German of operas in association with the state recording company.
Not only that, to take with them to conduct it West Germany's
most famous musical personality, Herbert von Karajan, the one musician
who more than any other stood for the enclave of West Berlin, was the
stuff of front page news. But why not just record in Berlin with Karajan's
own Berlin Philharmonic? The principal reason was the availability of
the Dresden Staatskapelle, one of the world's greatest orchestras, who
had maintained their special sound almost as a phoenix after the destruction
of their city in 1945 and for whom this work was meat and drink. Their
predecessors had played in the premiere in 1869. Karajan knew how good
they were and he was happy to work with them. When he finally stood
before them he told them that their sound had been described to him
as "like old gold" and he was absolutely right as the first
few minutes of the Act I Prelude prove straight away. Listen to the
exposed, tumbling strings just before the music depicting the Masters
and then the sweet but solid winds projecting burnished warmth behind
the bourgeois splendour. So it continues with string playing that is
warm and humane matched to wind solos of rare eloquence from start to
finish. Especially lovely is the Prelude to Act III, a portrait in music
of Hans Sachs, surely the most sympathetic character Wagner ever created,
rendered here with strength and lyricism. So don't expect the kind of
polished surfaces you may be used to with Karajan in Berlin. Rather
he seems to enhance what is there already, building on the tradition.
When Karajan was waved through Checkpoint Charlie in
November 1970 without formality and driven into the GDR in a government
car as though a Kremlin Politburo member, it was clear the regime was
itself behind this project all the way. However there are more politics
behind this recording than many people know and another story revealing
that it might have sounded rather different, at least in interpretation.
Buried in the, now out of print, biography of Sir John Barbirolli by
Michael Kennedy is the amazing revelation that Karajan had not been
first choice for the project. None other than Barbirolli himself was
supposed to have conducted it two years before in 1968 but he cancelled
after responding to an appeal by Rafael Kubelik following the Soviet
invasion of Czechoslovakia that western musicians boycott Warsaw Pact
countries. By 1970 the world of international politics had moved on.
Barbirolli was dead and so Karajan was more than happy to step into
the breach. But notice that the EMI producer on this recording is Ronald
Kinloch Anderson, Barbirolli's producer rather than one of Karajan's
usual collaborators.
In Wagner Karajan generally preferred casting lighter
voices than was usual. That along with the "chamber music"
approach to his orchestra was one of his lasting legacies in Wagner.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes not, as we saw in his recording of The
Ring. In this Meistersinger you can hear his preference for lighter
voices; most strongly in the two lovers where Helen Donath and René
Kollo as Eva and Walther really do sound at the correct age. I well
remember how welcomed this was by many critics in 1971 more used to
middle-aged 'young lovers'. In the first two acts Kollo sounds admirable
as a slightly bumptious youth, ardent and romantic. Perhaps in Act III
he falls short of the power needed for the Prize Song but his phrasing
and tone carry him through. You really need to be a Domingo for this
passage and Placido Domingo is indeed excellent in the Jochum recording
on DG here, but even he cannot hold a candle to Kollo elsewhere in the
opera. Helen Donath was reluctant to take the part of Eva but Karajan
persuaded her. She is less impressive overall than Elizabeth Schwarzkopf
in Karajan's Bayreuth recording, especially in the way her older colleague
seems to appreciate the fact that Sachs fancies her, though this Eva
does flirt with the old boy beautifully. Theo Adam sings Hans Sachs
memorably. Maybe Karajan was forced to accept him by the fact that he
was an East German artist but even then Adam's is the kind of voice
you would expect Karajan to cast anyway. He delivers the monologues
with the simplicity of a lieder singer. Different from some predecessors
who bring more heft and heat to those passages, but Sachs is the greatest
of all the Mastersingers. He is a man who, if called on, could sing
them all off the stage with the rules that so obsess Beckmesser coming
naturally to him. Therefore a quiet and subtle presence, an assurance,
is an aspect of the part that works very well and that is what you get
with Adam. The "Wahn" monologue in Act III, for example, emerges
with nobility rather than declamation and that impresses me each time
I hear it. For a traditional rendition, and with the weight of history
bearing down on it, try to hear Paul Schöffler at Bayreuth in 1943
under Abendroth (Preiser 90174) especially when, looking out over the
nightscape of Nuremberg, he sings the words: "Why, till they draw
blood, do people torment and flay each other in useless, foolish anger".
Moving to the rest of the cast Geraint Evans is marvellous
as Beckmesser. Though I am aware some find his grating, "sing-speech"
delivery a problem. I don't think he ever caricatures this villain of
the piece, which can be a danger with this kind of delivery. Rather
he conveys perfectly the pettiness and nastiness in the man and that's
all you could ask. It's a brilliant piece of balance, musical and dramatic,
and when Sachs gets the better of him there is even an opportunity for
us to feel an iota of pity for the stupid man. Contrasting Evans as
Beckmesser is Karl Ridderbusch as Pogner with a quiet dignity and the
feeling of the nervous father seeing his lovely daughter the centre
of attention coming over well. Some find Peter Schreier a shallow David.
I suppose I can see what they mean but as this was early in this great
artist's career and David is a small part we can surely live with him
perfectly well.
The sound balance achieved between voices and orchestra
in a generous, though never over-generous, acoustic is well nigh perfect.
The excellent choruses too are always in believable perspective and
tailored to the requirements of the drama. This is especially impressive
when considering recorded sound and musical performance work altogether
in the riot scene at the end of Act II after David attacks Beckmesser
for apparently wooing Magdalene. You can follow every strand and contour
in a miracle of planning and execution. Karajan and the producers must
have plotted this so carefully and yet they still manage to make it
all sound spontaneous. In fact spontaneity is the principal quality
that always seems to come from this set and for a studio recording,
albeit one made in long takes, that is most unusual. Most of the opera
is recitative and to keep all that bowling along, maintaining our interest,
is the conductor's greatest challenge. Karajan brings this off with
great aplomb and much wit: one of his finest achievements on record,
aided by a hand-picked cast.
On balance I think this Dresden recording of "Die
Meistersinger" is the finest of them all, especially for those
who do not own a recording of this work already. There isn't a weak
link in it. Recorded sound, orchestral playing, conducting and singing
are all exceptional. True the 1951 Bayreuth recording under Karajan
has marginally better casting, wonderful theatre atmosphere and a greater
sense of urgency in the execution. But the second time around Karajan's
slightly more spacious unfolding allows us to hear even more detail
of this perfect score. I will always love the earlier version but the
mono sound shows its age, it is victim to the vagaries of theatre recording
and there are inevitable fluffs in playing and singing.
Other companies have weighed in over the years with
recordings of this work, of course. There is a fine studio version conducted
by Eugen Jochum on DG (415-278-2) that boasts Fischer-Dieskau as Hans
Sachs but, as I indicated above, I simply cannot take Placido Domingo
as Walther, finding him too overtly operatic. Kempe on EMI must always
be considered as well. But the one version myself and many others are
demanding is a "live" BBC recording of Reginald Goodall conducting
Sadlers Wells forces in English from 1968. I have only heard extracts
from this but even they have convinced me the reputation of this fabled
recording are true. How about it BBC Legends?
This is the reference recording for this opera and
the first choice.
Tony Duggan