My DVD reference for this marvellous and magical opera has
long been that with Sir Charles Mackerras conducting the Orchestre
de Paris, Thomas Allen as an imposing Forester and Eva Jenis
as an impish if somewhat heavily-shod Vixen. This is also on
Arthaus 100 240, and is musically and visually an entirely
satisfying stage production. The release we are interested
in here is not really in competition with the Mackerras, being
different in so many ways as to make the two more of a complementary
set than raising questions of winners and losers.
This DVD is one of a series dedicated to the work of Walter
Felsenstein (1901-1975). He was founder and general director
of the Komische Oper in Berlin, and was one of the twentieth
century’s great creative theatre directors, playing an
important role in the revival of opera as a theatrical art
form. His vision of Das Schlaue Füchslein, supported
by the remarkable sets and costumes of Rudolf Heinrich, is
less stylised than the alternative already mentioned. The animals
appear as convincingly realistic as I’ve ever seen them,
with costumes which sometimes almost make you forget that there
are human beings inside them. Felsentein said “Vixen
is a work I fell strangely in love with …” describing
Leoš Janáček as “… a unique and
inimitable phenomenon in the history of music.” Two preliminary
performances of this production were given on 11 and 12 May
ahead of a guest performance by the Komische Oper in Prague,
and the premiere took place on 30 May 1956. The recording of
this production by Deutscher Fernsehfunk, the final outing
of this version of the opera after a run of 218 stage performances,
took place in 1965 at the Adlershof studios in Berlin.
There are mostly advantages and just a few technical disadvantages
to this particular recording. The sound is listed as ‘stereo’,
but this is hardly perceptible, and any stereo effect is more
the hazy electronic kind than anything with real depth and
soundstage. This is not to say that it is a bad recording,
but there are a few subtleties of the orchestration which don’t
come through very well. The voices are well captured, and there
is a halo of acoustic resonance which is certainly better than
a dry studio sound, but mildly at odds with the compact looking
and prop-filled stage. The picture quality is also fair, but
has that muddy lack of definition and grainy finish common
to television recordings of this period. That it is black and
white doesn’t bother me. The real advantage of such a
genuine filmed version of such a production is the real sense
of changes in perspective and scene, but more importantly the
close-ups of expression from the singers. One of innumerable
magical moments, the first encounter of the vixen with the
forester, their eyes locked, the frightened animal frozen as
if transfixed by the oncoming headlights of a car, is something
you couldn’t really reproduce in the same way from a
stage registration.
Possibly more disturbing for some will be the German version
of the libretto, which does change the character of the text
and its delivery. I can’t say this particularly worried
me either. I’m the first to admit I wouldn’t be
able to follow much of either language without surtitles, but
with the colour and rhythm of language such an important aspect
of Leoš Janáček’s music you just know
it’s not quite what was intended. The lightness of character
of the original is exchanged for a heavier, more angular Teutonic
accent, the forester’s final reverie taking on an almost ‘Mahler
in pastoral mood’ feel, but the quality of acting and
strong sense of storytelling in this production is such that
the eye and mind are constantly feasted, ultimately overriding
linguistic doubts. As for the characters themselves, Irmgard
Arnold steals just about every scene in which she appears as
the vixen, drawing out attention even when merely hopping about
as an out of focus spectre in the background. The important
figure of the forester is portrayed very powerfully by Rudolf
Asmus, and each of the other singers and players seem to have
been carefully selected as having ideal qualities for each
character, from the daft and dippy dog and humblest extra in
the bar scene, to the pivotal priest and bad-tempered badger.
The eye for detail is something which is very striking about
this production. The sets are sometimes the subject of lingering
static scenes and slow panning shots over the orchestral music,
and the sheer atmosphere of the forest is made very real indeed.
Every physical gesture of the animals renders a convincing
portrayal of each beast, and the human characters are strongly
defined, taken as far as possible before being pushed over
the edge into stereotype or caricature. As you would expect,
Václav Neumann’s handling of the orchestra is
superb, even if the hi-fi definition isn’t top drawer.
The extras on this release include a recorded interview with
Walter Felsenstein from 1957, in which he describes some fascinating
details about the technical demands of transferring such a
complex production from venue to venue while on tour. He also
talks about the highly specific nature of role to actor, something
which creates a genuine vibrancy in this Cunning Little
Vixen. There is also his speech of gratitude to the team
which recorded what we see on this DVD, backed with revealing
stills of the making of the film, in preparation, and with
cameras in situ. For the lucky ones who can read music, the
final act is given with the score in piano reduction, with
the adaptations of the German text frequently scrawled over
the top of the notes in the vocal part. There are also texts
in facsimile and legible simultaneous translations of Felsensteins’ speech
at the 1958 Janáček congress in Brno, a letter
from Václav Neumann to Walter Felsenstein - for some
reason unfortunately not translated, and Rudolf Heinrich’s ‘The “Vixen
Forest”, all of which provide unique insights into these
key people’s views on the music and its inner mechanics
and meanings. The booklet is full of illustrations and informative
notes, and a chapter on the DVD also gives a marvellous view
of the artwork in which costumes were sketched and planned.
As a DVD production, this release ticks all the full value
boxes. Don’t be put off by the vintage of the recording
or the ancient black-and-white picture technology. You are
guaranteed to be captivated by the compelling individual performances,
and the collective strength of the production as a whole. This Cunning
Little Vixen is a remarkable document from a place and
time in which the qualities and values of collaborative working
in every aspect of the process of creation and performance
made for something really rather special.
Dominy Clements