Andante have already issued a number of extremely
important recordings but this one, I venture to suggest, may be
the most significant to date. It is important for several reasons.
Firstly, as I hope to show, it is important on account of the
performance itself. Secondly, with hindsight this performance
may be regarded as one of the final flowerings of high musical
art in pre- Second World War Europe. Thirdly, and perhaps most
importantly, it represents an important addition to our appreciation
of the stature of Bruno Walter, especially since he never made
a commercial recording of any complete opera.
As the copious booklet notes make clear, the
1937 Salzburg Festival was a mouth-watering prospect for the musical
connoisseur with four operas each conducted by Toscanini and Walter,
with two more, both by Richard Strauss, under Knappertsbusch for
good measure. There were also nine concerts, led by the conductors
already mentioned plus Rodzinski and Furtwängler. The orchestra
for all these events (36 performances in all) was the indefatigable
Vienna Philharmonic; how did they cope?
Walter’s operatic contribution included not only
three performances of Figaro. He also presided over Orfeo
ed Euridice, Euryanthe and Don Giovanni. Remarkably,
this Figaro represented the first time that the opera had
been heard in Salzburg in the original Italian rather than in
German translation.
The broadcast performance preserved here was
transmitted by Austrian Radio. They had access to a novel recording
system known as Selenophone. The process is described in more
detail in the booklet but, if I understand it correctly, it involved
recording the music onto film. This produced a much better result
than the use of wax. However, the process enjoyed limited exposure
before being overtaken by the use of magnetic tape. Producer Ward
Marston has used a transfer to tape direct from the original film
as the source for his CD transfer and has made a very successful
job of it. The recorded sound that we hear has its inevitable
limitations, of course. The voices are reported pretty accurately,
even allowing for movement around the stage. The orchestral balance,
as recorded, favours the wind (and mighty characterful the VPO
wind players are). At the very start the overture sounds a bit
boxy but one very soon forgets any sonic limitations for we are
swept up in a hugely involving performance. Overall, I find it
little short of amazing to think that I have been listening to
a very good reproduction of a performance that took place just
a few days short of 66 years ago as I type this review on 2 August
2003!
It is necessary, of course, to comment on the
recorded sound but the performance is what matters, and what a
performance it is! All five principals distinguish themselves
and perhaps an important element in the vitality of the performance
lies in the ages of the singers. Aulikki Rautawaara was 31 at
the time of this Festival; Jarmila Novotná was a month
short of her 30th birthday, while Esther Réthy
was not quite 25. The leading men were older. Pinza was 45 and
Stabile was 49 but their extra experience nicely complements the
freshness of the ladies.
Jarmila Novotná, a soprano in a role more
usually assigned to a mezzo, is a coltish Cherubino. Her ‘Non
so più in Act 1 rightly earns the first applause (listeners
may be pleased to know there are relatively few such interruptions
and, indeed, there is little in the way of distracting audience
noise although, unsurprisingly, quite a bit of stage noise can
be heard; I find it adds to the sense of occasion.). Like all
her fellow principals Novotná is excellent in recitative
and contributes to a really spirited dialogue with Susanna in
Act 1, Scene 4. She also plays a full part in a delicious, lively
account of the exchanges with Susanna and the Countess in Act
2, Scene 2. ‘Voi che sapete’ is also memorable where Novotná
is every inch the ardent, infatuated youth. This is singing with
real life to it.
The Countess is portrayed by the Finnish soprano,
Aulikki Rautawaara, who was already established as a favourite
in this and other roles at Glyndebourne. I must confess that I
loved her singing. She, no less that the other leading ladies,
is wonderfully alive in recitative but, of course, any performance
of the role of the Countess stands or falls by the two big arias.
‘Porgi amor’, the hugely demanding opening to Act 2, is taken
quite slowly, beginning with a warmly phrased introduction. Rautawaara’s
singing is absolutely gorgeous with generous, long-breathed phrasing
and lovely full tone. She is touching and vulnerable
and sounds every bit the wronged noblewoman.
She is no less successful in ‘Dove sono’ and, indeed, in the dramatic
recitative that precedes it. There is a suggestion that she fades
a little in the fiery end to that aria but this, I think, is down
to the recording, not the singer.
Making up a trio of delectable ladies is Esther
Réthy as Susanna. Hers is a marvellous, vital performance.
In fact, she and the Figaro of Ezio Pinza strike sparks off each
other right from the opening scene of Act 1. Her ‘Deh! Vieni’
in Act 4 is poised and quite lovely and is preceded by a melting
recitative. But it’s for her recitative that I especially value
Réthy. In her exchanges with the Countess she suggests
a real bond of affection between servant and mistress; she, surely
is the Countess’s only confidante. She leads the Count along beautifully
and is no less effective as a backstairs intriguer than is Figaro.
In the plot her relationship with her beloved Figaro has its ups
and downs and Réthy is excellent at portraying the many
changes of mood of her character. Hers is an affectionate performance,
suitably pert but never suggesting the soubrette.
I ought to say that in the passages of quicksilver
recitative involving the three ladies it can be quite hard to
tell their voices apart but I don’t regard that as a serious drawback.
It probably helped Réthy that she was
singing opposite such a marvellous and experienced Figaro. We
learn from the booklet that Bruno Walter, much though he admired
Pinza, was unsure that the Italian bass was right for the role
(which Pinza desperately wanted to sing). Happily he relented
and how wise he was to do so. Pinza’s voice is a large one, bigger
than one is accustomed to hearing in this role, at least nowadays.
However, he uses his voice with great intelligence and discretion
and it proves to be an extremely flexible instrument. He is no
less agile than his colleagues in recitative and his arias are
uniformly successful. In Act 1 ‘Se vuol ballare’ and its preceding
recitative shows him singing easily and lightly (just very occasionally
taxed by a particularly high note) but one senses that there’s
power and steel in reserve; this servant is not one whom his master
should cross! ‘Non più andrai’ is splendidly sonorous and
ironic. Throughout he portrays a quick-witted, wily character,
full of guile yet when it really counts, putty in Susanna’s hands.
Pinza would be the dominant vocal force in this
production were it not for the fact that he is matched for excellence
by the Count of Mariano Stabile. He is just as magnificent as
Pinza in his singing and his verbal acting. The Count must be
a difficult role to sing because his fortunes swing even more
wildly than do those of his manservant. Whatever facet of the
character he is required to portray at a given moment, Stabile
delivers. So, this Count is by turns suave, arrogant, libidinous,
overbearing, imperious, cunning and, at the very end, contrite.
Like Pinza, Stabile was a native Italian and no doubt this helps
him to give added point to the delivery of the text. He is another
who is superb in recitative and his Act three recitative and aria,
‘Hai già vinto la causa!’ is absolutely splendid, featuring
vivid, commanding and unbuttoned (yet perfectly controlled) singing
of a type you don’t hear today. Rightly, the audience accord him
an ovation.
The remaining members of the cast aren’t quite
in the same league as the principals. Barbarina is too mature
to suggest a young girl in her Act 4 aria The singers portraying
Basilio, Bartolo and Marcellina are not really to my taste for
they all attempt a little too much in the way of vocal characterisation
but unlike the principals don’t quite have the same degree of
skill to bring this off. Thus, what probably was effective when
seen on stage as well as heard sounds rather mannered on purely
aural repetition. (In fairness, all three make a much more pleasing
contribution to the important action in Act 3, scene two scene
where Figaro’s parents are revealed.) The Act 4 arias for both
Basilio and Marcellina are cut, which I don’t regret. However,
other listeners may enjoy the singing of the lesser roles more
than I did and, in any case, these contributions are emphatically
not such as to detract from the overall merits of the set.
Presiding over all this, unseen and unheard but
crucial to the success of the enterprise, is Bruno Walter. On
the strength of some of the recordings that he made in his last
years he has been characterised in some quarters as a mellow,
genial conductor whose interpretations were a bit too avuncular
for their own good. I have never subscribed to this view, preferring
to regard the last recordings as a beneficent last look at some
much-loved areas of his repertoire from the wise standpoint of
old age. However, as more and more of his earlier recordings,
whether studio or ‘live’, come into general circulation we can
see what a vital force he could be. (It’s always seemed to me
that Mahler, who did so much to foster Walter’s early career,
would never have taken under his wing any young conductor who
appeared to be less than energetic and energised.)
I would certainly describe Walter’s conducting
of this performance as energetic and energised. Right from the
very beginning his vital reading of the overture starts to draw
the listener into the drama which is about to unfold. Once he’s
got you hooked Walter never lets you go. The recitatives fairly
fizz and the pacing of the arias and ensembles is always convincing.
This is really involving, dramatic conducting by a true man of
the theatre (at this time Walter was closely associated with the
Vienna State Opera and, indeed, opera had been a crucial element
in his career up to this point.) One contemporary report suggested
that it was Walter himself who played the harpsichord in the secco
recitatives. Whoever does so plays the continuo pretty plainly
but in so doing contributes to the energetic drive; there’s no
lingering over fancy roulades here! Just occasionally some listeners
may feel that the performance is just a bit too driven in the
heat of the moment and that a little more relaxation might have
been welcome. For myself I can only say that I found myself swept
along by the thrust and conviction of the whole thing. If ever
there was a case of a performance caught on the wing, this is
it.
Of course, there are a few imperfections. Even
Pinza rushes the fast triplets towards the end of his Act 4 aria,
‘Aprite un po’quegli occhi’ and Bartolo similarly gabbles some
quicker passages of ‘La vendetta’ in Act 1.Also it has to be said
that the, admittedly brief, appearances of the chorus are not
among the highlights of the show. The ladies sound matronly and
the whole chorus is wavery and imprecise in ensemble. However,
such blemishes are few and should not deter anyone. This is a
vivid, exciting theatrical experience. Andante have done a major
service in rescuing this performance from the vaults and making
it generally available. I don’t know how many of the other performances
from that Festival were recorded and can be retrieved (though
Andante have just released Toscanini’s Die Meistersinger,
also from the 1937 Festival). The prospect of Walter in Don
Giovanni to say nothing of Toscanini in Die Zauberflöte,
Fidelio and Falstaff (all of which adorned the 1937
Salzburg programme) should set many collectors’ pulses racing.
As usual, Andante’s documentation is lavish.
The three CDs are contained in a hardback booklet of 383 pages.
This contains the libretto with translations into English, French
and German. The comprehensive and extremely informative notes
are provided in the same three languages.
This is an historic issue of the utmost importance
and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
John
Quinn
Figaro: Ezio Pinza (baritone)