I’m not sure if
all Fausts at the Met were outstanding but all the ones I’ve
heard from this time – including an earlier one from Beecham
- certainly have been. The French Wing was certainly an august
one at the house when such as Beecham and Monteux were in
charge.
This performance
from February 1955 features the genial and splendid conducting
of the seventy-nine year old Monteux – he and Beecham seem
to have favoured relatively relaxed readings there – and Monteux
proves once again how much we owe to broadcast survivals such
as this to augment and cement our appreciation of him as an
operatic conductor. Take a listen, for example, to the sheer
class and elegance of his conducting in Act II’s Ainsi
que la brise. He presides over a rip roaring cast – De
Los Angeles, Peerce, Siepi, Merrill, Mildred Miller and Thelma
Votipka - who sang Marthe for Beecham as well - and Lawrence
Davidson. The results are consistently exciting and illuminating.
A few words about
the cast. Peerce was a pugnacious singer but had poor French.
His beefy Rien! En vain shows how he means to carry
on – a rather belligerent confidence suffuses his singing.
The strong Italianate cast to his singing makes itself apparent
in Salut! Demeure chaste et pure where French elegance
is in short supply but Italian beef is not. Siepi’s Act I
Mais ce Dieu scene with Faust is eloquent, almost in
fact avuncular. The voice itself is finely controlled and
well deployed across the range and he makes a characterful
and impressive stage presence. There’s no mugging in Act II’s
Le veau, much to its advantage and even in Act V’s
La jour va luire he not only resists the lure
of stentorian pronouncement or adamantine tone but remains
sympathetic and credible. He’s one of the most worthy features
of this set and is a Méphistophélès to reckon with the greats.
De Los Angeles shows exceptional refinement and elegance;
everything sounds perfectly secure. Trills are perfectly centred
in Ah! je ris de me voir. In her Act III conclusion
she is more than merely plausible theatrically. Some may perhaps
baulk at the crystalline purity of it all but against such
beauty of tone most will have no defence. Votipka proves entirely
reliable, indeed more, in her Act III Seigneur Dieu and
she and Siepi have some richly warm moments together. I rather
enjoyed Merrill’s performance – it’s not blustery at all and
though his French pronunciation is not secure he makes a convincing
turn out of Valentin.
We can hear throughout that the choir tends
to be rather woolly. Some entries are rather muffed but they
do show spirit and a few dodgy moments are soon swept up in
the collective mêlée. The recording is not at all bad but
the broadcast date of 1955 is not really so distant in any
case. There are no notes, just a track listing. I tend to
favour the Beecham Met over this by a small margin but for
admirers of conductor and singers this Monteux-led performance
is an engrossing one.
Jonathan Woolf
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