British Opera of the mid-nineteenth century enjoyed a small
vogue throughout continental Europe and garnered a fair amount
of critical esteem. One thinks of Balfe’s The Bohemian Girl
and its 1846 appearance in Vienna. Julius Benedict was active,
naturally, as were other composers of lesser status. But dig
deeper and one finds J.L. Hatton’s Pasqual Bruno in the
same Imperial capital in 1844; and William Vincent Wallace’s
Maritana in 1848.
Wallace’s Maritana was accorded the honour of an abridged
recording in the days of the 78, but no such benefit accrued
to Lurline, his watery grand opera of 1848, that revolutionary
year, and which saw revision a decade later before its 1860
premiere. The Rhenish story needn’t particularly detain us,
but of rather more interest is the quality of the music, and
indeed the performances.
The influences on Wallace – who nevertheless had a strong compositional
voice of his own – were Weber, Mendelssohn to a degree, and
maybe also Meyerbeer. Wallace was admired by Berlioz, no less,
and his craftsmanship is evident throughout this opera which
gathers pace – dramatically and musically – as it goes along.
The quite extensive overture certainly reveals Weber-like traits
and evocations. There’s a deftly rocking introduction to the
Act I Scene 1 All is silent, subtle use of the harp in
the Rhine-rich writing of the recitative Where is Lurline?
Meanwhile the romance When the night winds has a nicely
spun Romantic arc. Wallace ensures that the horns are appositely
engaged for a preening aria in Scene 2’s Bring the mirror
with melodies that are spruce and crisp. The trio I see by
the grey of the morn is saturated in a light-hearted ethos,
and variety is further cemented by the barcarolle evoked in
Our barque in silence, though – and not for the first
time – one wishes Wallace had been more adventurous in his orchestration.
It is certainly a just criticism that by the Rondo Take this
cup - a cheery affair – the operatic tone has become decidedly
uneven and that the dramatic trajectory of the music has been
somewhat derailed. There are however some virtuosically coloratura
moments, Italianate in impress and demanding a sure exponent
to do them justice. Fortunately soprano Sally Silver does just
that.
The brass fires some decidedly Weberian moments in the chorus
Come away to the chase and there’s a good, seriously-orientated
chorus in Ave Maria. What impresses perhaps most strongly
above these localised gestures, however, is the way in which
Wallace marshals the material for his Act finales with their
textured lyric lines and involved independence. If seldom truly
memorable he remains a fine and engaging composer, whose exciting
qualities can be judged in the finale to Act Two but whose best
moments are reserved for something like Act III’s Grand Scena
Sad as my soul, cogently put together and a scene that
indicates how adept he was at coalescing thematic material and
directing them towards a strongly controlled conclusion. The
unaccompanied quartet, Though the world (Act III Scene
2), comes as a welcome surprise. It adds another gloss to his
armoury of light, almost ballad, arias, jolly choruses, virtuosic
roulades and the like.
We hear Lurline in Richard Bonynge’s edition. The band sounds
relatively small – the string complement is 8-6-4-5-2 so it’s
not especially so and is in fact probably authentically sized
– but could do with rather greater tone and weight. The wind
principals are good. The chorus is a touch lightweight. The
singers vary. As Lurline Silver is excellent, conquering the
technical demands placed on her with sang froid and gleaming
tone. The two baritones David Soar (actually a bass-baritone)
and Donald Maxwell acquit themselves finely whilst Roderick
Earle’s bass is strong and convincing. Tenors Paul Ferris and
Keith Lewis offer a study in contrasts; the former is more youthful
and steadier; the latter however offers excellent musicality
in compensation.
It’s interesting to note that one of the pallbearers at Wallace’s
funeral in London in 1865 was one Arthur Sullivan, then just
23. He certainly owed something to Wallace and for that we should
be thankful to Lurline and to its brother and sister
operas nourished in the mid-century.
Jonathan Woolf
The CD Commemorative libretto booklet is available at £3 (includes
UK p&p) from 6 Lindow Fold, Wilmslow, Cheshire SK9 6DT
with cheque made payable to 'Victorian Opera'.
Overseas readers should e-mail Raymond Walker raymondwalker@talktalk.net
for costings
see also review
by Goran Forsling