The virtue of this
reissued 1990 set of Strauss’s Elektra
lies in Wolfgang Sawallisch’s practised
pacing of the score. With experience
borne of long years in the best German
Kapellmeister tradition each
individual section and encounter in
the drama is placed within the overall
span of the music. The BRSO play superbly
and are well caught in the resonant
acoustic of the Herkulessaal in Munich.
With his vocal collaborators,
however, Sawallisch has more of a
mixed bag. Eva Marton was undoubtedly
a powerful Elektra in the theatre,
but on disc her rather unwieldy voice
does not lend itself to the role’s
more lyrical moments and she suffers
from intonation problems in some of
the higher-lying passages. She seems
unable to project Elektra’s emotions
with much subtlety; thus the opening
monologue goes for little in comparison
to performances by Nilsson, Borkh
and others, who are really adept at
portraying Elektra’s grief, loneliness
and ultimate anger. In the monologue’s
closing stages, which should be wildly
exultant, Marton is heavy and lumpen.
She is content merely to sing her
phrases, with little sense of meaning
or inflection, in her subsequent encounter
with Chrysothemis; although to be
fair her scene with Klytamnestra shows
a marginal improvement in terms of
dramatic response to the situation.
The Recognition Scene with Orest (the
dependable Bernd Weikl), which can
be the emotional high point of the
opera, here goes for relatively little
due to Marton’s inability to soften
her voice sufficiently for the more
lyrical phrases. By contrast Sawallisch
creates an orchestral texture of exemplary
warmth and clarity.
Cheryl Studer rather
seems to have disappeared from the
limelight of late but she was a favourite
on record around this time. She sings
a suitably excitable Chrysothemis
to contrast with Marton’s monolithic
Elektra. Her first solo brings us
the freedom and ecstasy we have missed
from Marton’s performance; her bright
soprano, with its fast tremolo sounding
not unlike Marie Collier’s on the
Solti set, creates a vivid picture
of a repressed, quasi-hysterical young
woman desperate to escape from the
horrors of the royal household. She
is equally effective in her later
scene with Elektra as her sister tries
to persuade her to take on the task
of killing Klytamnestra and Aegisthus,
depicting well Chrysothemis’s revulsion
at what is being asked of her.
As Klytamnestra,
Lipovsek gives a vivid portrayal of
a once-regal character torn by guilt
and fear. Her scene with Elektra which
forms the opera’s centrepiece is effective
enough, with due attention given to
characterisation. And yet anyone who
has heard the likes of Astrid Varnay
in the part will know that there is
an extra element of drama to be got
from the role; Lipovsek seems slightly
disengaged and the scene therefore
lacks the overwhelming sense of dread
and tension of some performances.
The supporting cast is generally excellent
including effective cameos from the
likes of Hermann Winkler and Kurt
Moll.
However good the
supporting cast and the orchestral
contribution, in the last analysis
Elektra stands or falls by
the performances of the three main
female protagonists. This tripartite
portrayal of mounting hysteria remains
one of Strauss’s – and Hoffmansthal’s
– most memorable creations. For all
the virtues of Sawallisch’s conducting,
and despite capable performances by
Studer and Lipovsek, Eva Marton’s
generally unimaginative Elektra lets
the set down badly. In the opera house
this would have been a good repertoire
performance of Strauss’s opera; for
repeated listening on disc something
a bit more special is needed.
The set comes with
notes and synopsis but no libretto,
although this is downloadable via
the EMI Classics website.
Ewan McCormick
Marton’s generally unimaginative Elektra
lets the set down badly ... see Full
Review