Here’s something special
for admirers of Clemens Krauss – the
first ever release of this 1953 Salzburg
Rosenkavalier. Preiser has released
a Krauss 1942 Bavarian broadcast with
his wife, Viorica Ursuleac (who appears
in Guild’s 1936 78 excerpts which are
splendid, though there are splices from
other performances to ensure continuity)
and Georgine von Milinkovic et al. There
are also some Vienna State Opera live
extracts dating from the same period.
Firstly a word about
recording sonics and quality. The copy
was made by a private collector and
Guild notes that there was shifting
equalization, some breaks and that it
enshrined a metallic quality with the
voice of the Ochs, Kurt Boehme. It also
notes, correctly, that the broadcast
has an airless quality. I would add
this; the microphones seem to have been
placed more over the pit than the stage
so that the flaring horns, for example,
in the orchestral introduction to Act
I leap out dramatically. The sound is
certainly recessive and cramped; percussion
is muffled, internal sectional balance
is occasionally problematic. There are
some blips as well – they sound like
fractionally missing moments where sides
were changed. I should also add – this
sounds like a litany of problems, which
isn’t really the case but they should
be noted – that the sound splinters
and fractures somewhat in the Second
Act (especially Mord! Mord! –
which is uncomfortable). One can also
hear some radio interference in this
section of the Act, which is temporarily
off-putting. At 1.17 into Er
muss mich pardioneren (Act II,
track 12) there is the kind of "edit"
I referred to earlier and this happens
a few times.
All right, this doesn’t
sound good. But there is good
news; apart from the constriction of
sound the problems are essentially survivable.
Those with a serious interest in historic
performance and in the musicianship
of Strauss’s favourite Rosenkavalier
conductor will want to hear it and this
notwithstanding the fact that a number
of the principals have also left behind
recordings of their roles in other sets.
Reining famously recorded it for Kleiber
in 1955 (Decca) but also for Szell,
live in 1949 – now on Andante. Gueden,
for instance, was also in that Kleiber
cast.
The greatest and most
animating feature of this remains Clemens
Krauss. He encourages a sense of seamless
animation, with scenes developing a
momentum that glides naturally into
subsequent ones. There’s no sense of
the static or tableau about his leadership.
Rhythms are sharply etched and wittily
pointed. Wind principals are given their
head and plaudits in particular go to
the bassoonist and clarinettist. In
the Act II introduction we hear some
succulent echt-Viennese string portamenti
and a veritable surge of adrenalin.
I’ve seldom heard bettered the masterly
way he handles the end of In dieser
feierlichen Stunde – where he judges
the theatrical temperature with the
most acute perception. Listen as well
to the sheer naturalness of his sprung
rhythm in the Octavian-Sophie exchange
Mit ihren Augen voller Tränen.
Even here though, things aren’t
perfect, nor would one expect them to
be. The Act III trio is a mite untidy,
though it is fleetly taken and beautifully
articulate, and there is throughout,
though more so in the last two Acts,
a slight drop in adrenalin. This is
relative though; Krauss is still a formidable
guide, not as rhythmically incisive
as Szell but with a greater sense of
rubato and stage design – and I think,
in the end, definably more of a sense
of the humanity of the score.
I agree with annotator
London Green that Reining is heard at
something like her Straussian best in
the 1949 Szell broadcast but that Krauss’s
conducting has a flexibility that elevates
her assumption still further. Hers is
a less weighty voice than usual and
hers remains throughout a Marschallin
who seeks the light, not the depths,
of the role. Her voice and impersonation
are entirely consonant in this. Lisa
della Casa is likewise a soprano and
this lightening of the voices in their
scenes together gives them a sense of
vocal equality. She is technically eloquent
and tonally fresh and conveys in large
measure the verve and increasing maturity
of Octavian. Sophie is Hilde Gueden,
flighty, quick, and Ochs is Boehme at
his buffo best but with a slight taste
of vinegar in the voice. He does overdo
the ruffian elements rather too much
but it’s a credible portrait.
In conclusion this
is a powerful souvenir of Krauss’s credentials
as a Straussian. Compromised though
it is by sonic limitations it will stand
as an ancillary purchase. You will need
a studio recording or two but for sheer
theatrical frisson this Salzburg performance
should not be overlooked, even though
the wartime broadcast has distinctive
merits of its own.
Jonathan Woolf
Chorus of the Vienna State Opera 
