The Hungarian composer
Emmerich Kálmán settled
in Vienna and created several lively
and tuneful operettas, of which the
best known are The Gypsy Princess
(Vienna, 1915) and Countess Maritza
(Vienna, 1924). His music is notable
for its melodic freshness and its subtle
fusion of the Viennese waltz with Hungarian
dance forms. This is clothed in rich
orchestral textures and colourful instrumentation
which confirm his fondness for the romantic
idiom of Tchaikovsky in particular.
Kálmán was perhaps the
most successful of all the later composers
of Viennese operettas, in terms of updating
his works to keep pace with prevailing
tastes. He took immense care when selecting
libretti, while his musical achievement
was substantial also.
Kálmán's
Jewish roots led him to leave Vienna
in 1938, going first to Paris and then
to the United States. In 1942 he chose
to relinquish his Hungarian nationality
when Hungary became allied with Hitler,
and after the war he moved to Paris,
where he lived for the remaining eight
years of his life.
Anyone coming to Kálmán
for the first time should find this
pair of discs immensely rewarding. As
well as an appealing recording of one
his best known operettas, there are
several attractive orchestral items
drawn from other compositions, and these
are appealing too.
Naxos offers SACD surround
sound, and there is certainly plenty
of depth as well as a full account of
the music’s richly colourful orchestral
palette. As we often find, the voices
can be highlighted some of the time,
though to quite pleasing effect since
they are so sympathetic to the idiom
and the performance.
When Csárdásfürstin
first appeared in Vienna, during
the second year of the First World War,
its theme of an aristocrat besotted
with an actress was deemed unpatriotic
in some quarters, among those who remembered
that the young Emperor Franz Josef had
been subject to this indiscretion many
years before. Despite all obstacles,
in the operetta the two characters marry.
The score contains
a succession of appealing and vivacious
numbers, though there is room for sentimentality
too. The latter emotion often links
with images of the Viennese waltz, delivered
with all due schmalz. There are several
highlights which are performed at annual
Viennese concerts and the like; but
in truth one of the glories of this
Naxos production is its completeness.
This allows the clearly articulated
construction of the full operetta to
be appreciated on its own terms, with
particular success in the three act-finales,
which develop much vigour and momentum.
The various passages
of melodrama – spoken dialogue above
music – are particularly well done,
for which all praise is due to Hellmuth
Klumpp and Yvonne Kálmán.
If the singing is not quite as distinguished
as on the existing EMI version (1971)
starring Anneliese Rothenberger and
Nicolai Gedda, there is still much to
admire. In any case this version is
free from disfiguring cuts and relies
on what Kálmán actually
wrote. In other words, this is authentic.
What is certainly true
to Kálmán’s style is the
infectious vitality of the rhythms,
which Bonynge consistently delivers
with all the aplomb of an experienced
conductor of ballet music. There is
also a full range of expression: from
vital celebration through to melancholy
pathos, as demanded by the score.
Among the singers Yvonne
Kenny justifies her star billing with
lustrous tone and fiery vitality, as
required. She is also secure right across
her role’s vocal range, something that
is not always true of leading ladies.
The secondary soprano role of Countess
Stasi is well taken by Mojca Erdmann.
The male singers are experienced in
this repertoire, as members of the Vienna
Volksoper, while the Slovak chorus is
also wholly at one with the operetta
style.
Reasonably enough,
the spoken dialogue in between the musical
numbers has been trimmed, although those
wishing to explore the details of the
libretto will find it available via
the Naxos website. One real disappointment
is the location of the break between
CD1 and CD2, an example of insensitive
editing and production that earns a
black mark. Why do companies allow these
decisions to be made by those who do
not know the work in question? But at
the usual Naxos price, this is a bargain
indeed.
Terry Barfoot
see also review
by Ian Lace
Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra/Richard Bonynge
NAXOS 6.110075-6 [56.20
+ 57.17] 
