The black-and-white photograph
of Adele Stolte on the cover proclaims that these are performances
from another age – not just literally, in the sense that
they were recorded in Communist East Germany well before
the fall of the Berlin Wall. The measured, but not stodgy
opening of
Crudel tiranno sets the pace for old-style
Handel performances. At first I thought them good of their
kind – more or less the equivalent of Karl Richter’s Bach
Cantatas which, as I have recently said, are still well
worth hearing – but I soon revised that opinion and they
eventually became wearisome.
At about the time that
these recordings were made, I remember buying some East
German recording tape in Tottenham Court Road. When I
complained that it produced awful recordings on my Ferrograph
reel-to-reel recorder – then regarded as the acme of recorders – I
was told that the tape was of the highest quality; the
fault lay in the fact that the bias of my Ferrograph was
not set up to appreciate it. My attitude to these recordings
is rather akin to the bias of that recorder – we’re no
longer set up to appreciate the style.
One person in particular
is to blame – or, rather, praise – for this state of affairs:
Emma Kirkby. With all the good will in the world, I cannot
help comparing Stolte in
Tra le fiamme with Kirkby’s
performance of that work on a splendid super-budget-price
Eloquence recording (476 7468) which I
reviewed last
year – see also RH’s
review. I
frequently insist that timings don’t tell the whole story,
but the huge discrepancy between Stolte’s 21:04 and Kirkby’s
17:00 tells at least part of this story.
Heard without remembering
the Kirkby/Hogwood version, no doubt this account of
Tra
le fiamme would pass muster – it doesn’t sound as ponderous
as the timings might suggest – not least because Stolte
has a potentially fine voice. Some may even prefer her ‘larger’ tone
to Kirkby; I’m not among them, though there are things
to admire – it’s just that Kirkby has virtually set the
benchmark for music of this period. Stolte even attempts
a few ornaments, but they sound out of keeping with her
general style. It sounds rather like Callas trying occasionally
to sing in period style – in fact, there is an unpleasant
edge, an almost-off-the-note quality, to Stolte’s voice
at times which reminds me of Callas, of whom I’m no great
fan.
Indeed, at times the voice
is definitely under strain – surprisingly so for a singer
whose Bach Cantata recordings in the late 1950s and 1960s
were acclaimed as models of good practice.
Tra le fiamme starts
very promisingly, but the promise is not borne out.
In the other cantatas
these vocal faults are less noticeable, though far from
entirely absent – perhaps they were made on an off-day – the
opening aria of
Crudel tiranno is particularly effective,
though once again, here and in
Ah! Che troppo ineguali,
the promising start is not sustained. One reviewer of
her Beethoven Lieder on a DG collection also found her
voice “edgy and not very steady”, suggesting that this
was not her only off-day.
The instrumentalists are
no authenticists – in 1970 modern-instrument players had
yet to learn from period-instrumentalists, with the honourable
exception of groups like the Academy of St Martin-in-the-Fields. Tempi,
as I have indicated are a little on the stately side and
there is little or no attempt at ornamentation, but this
is playing that I can live with: of its kind it is, in
fact, very good. Thomas Sanderling’s credentials as a
Bach and Handel conductor are almost as secure as those
of Karl Richter.
The recordings, originally
made by VEB, are more than adequate. The balance between
vocalist and instruments is near-ideal – if anything, better
than that on the reissued Christophe Coin recording of
three Bach Cantatas which I recently praised (E8918).
The notes are informative
and idiomatically translated. The original Italian texts
are given in full, but only parts are translated (within
the body of the notes rather than alongside the texts).
Heard once on Radio 3
or at a concert, these performances might do well enough. For
repeated hearing, they just don’t pass muster. The music
itself is sufficiently attractive to survive the experience,
but after hearing these performances several times, I had
to listen to the Emma Kirkby CD again – now that
really
is worth buying and hearing repeatedly. I repeat its
catalogue number: 476 7468. And remember that it sells
for about half the price of this Berlin Classics CD.
Brian Wilson