Kurt WEILL (1900-1950)
Zaubernacht (1922) [58.47]
Ania Vegry (soprano), Arte Ensemble
rec. Main Studio, NDR Hanover, 13-17 February 2012
CPO 777 767-2 [58.47]
This is a self-recommending issue for all lovers
of the music of Kurt Weill, a first recording of his early ‘pantomime’
Zaubernacht. But wait, the Weill aficionados will exclaim:
we have already had a recording of the complete work in 2002 on Capriccio
C67011, which may no longer be available but which was certainly in
the catalogue at one time. Well, no. The earlier recording was not of
Weill’s own score, but of a reconstruction of the score undertaken
by Meirion Bowen, and thereby hangs a tale.
The business of reconstructing lost scores - I do not refer here to
the completion of unfinished works, which opens up a wholly different
can of worms - is fraught with dangers. Where the original orchestral
parts exist, an exact version of the full score can be assembled without
problems apart from sheer physical and mental labour - Rachmaninov’s
First Symphony is an example - but where the full score and parts
are both lost, any reconstruction has to be based on materials such
as vocal scores or piano reductions which may not totally reflect what
the composer originally had in mind and will certainly be simplified
to bring the orchestral scoring within the compass of two or four hands.
This is true even when the composer himself or herself undertakes the
task, as for example Alfano did with his opera Sakuntala. I speak
from personal experience, having once attempted to reconstruct the mislaid
full score of a thankfully short choral piece from the vocal score which
I had prepared; when eventually I did run my original full score to
earth in the National Library of Wales, I was more than a little disconcerted
to find that it differed in considerable respects from my ‘reconstruction’
- and I had the advantage of remembering what I had originally intended.
If a scholar or friend of the composer is attempting the task, the results
may be quite a long way removed from what the composer had originally
composed; but nevertheless it is a worthwhile exercise if it brings
back into the light of day a score that would otherwise have been lost.
Imagine then, the fate of someone who spends time and energy reconstructing
a score, only for the composer’s original subsequently to turn
up in some archive or other. That was the fate of Eric Fenby, whose
orchestration of Delius’s opera Margot la Rouge was recorded
by Norman del Mar (on a long-deleted BBC Artium set CD3004X) only for
the original to surface a couple of years later. It has also been the
fate of Meirion Bowen’s reconstruction of Weill’s Zaubernacht,
the basis for the only previous complete recording of the score now
inevitably overtaken by the 2006 rediscovery in the library at Yale
University of Weill’s original which forms the basis for this
performance. I have not heard Meirion Bowen’s version, but it
was well received when the aforementioned recording was released although
I am sure it differs in many points of detail even though Bowen will
have had the advantage of having some parts of the original score to
hand in the shape of the ‘quodlibet’ which Weill himself
extracted for concert performance - as Fenby did in the case of the
passages of Margot la Rouge which Delius reworked as his Idyll
- Once I Passed Through a Populous City.
It nevertheless is clearly true that lovers of the music of Kurt Weill
will want the original version rather than any speculative reconstruction,
however well the work has been done; and this new release is therefore
hors concours, although the booklet does not make as much of
the fact as it might have done - possibly out of consideration for Meirion
Bowen’s endeavours. Bowen did apparently make some changes to
Weill’s scoring, adding a clarinet (not employed here), asking
the flute to double on piccolo, and had to plug some holes in the score
by adding additional material from a 1918 string quartet as Weill himself
originally did. What we have here does have some substantial differences
from what was on offer on the Capriccio disc. The booklet notes, as
is usual with CPO, are very comprehensive; and (as is unfortunately
less invariably the case) they are very readable and informative, giving
us plentiful detail on the music itself without going off into cloudy
and speculative realms of academicism.
In view of its chequered history and its relative unfamiliarity, a few
words about the history of the ‘pantomime’ itself might
be in order. The work was indeed originally written as a children’s
entertainment, conceived by an obscure refugee from Bolshevik Russia
who commissioned the young and totally unknown Weill to write a score
for a chamber ensemble of nine players plus an operatic soprano whose
sole role was to supply the voice of a toy fairy - she appears on only
one track of this disc. The work was given a few times in Berlin, and
then in New York in 1925 under the title The magic night - where
the score was drastically altered to eliminate the vocal part altogether.
It then totally vanished. When the materials were subsequently donated
to Yale University they were mis-catalogued and forgotten. It appears
that the material cut for the New York performances continues to be
missing, and has had to be reconstructed from a short score which was
published in 2008 and finally performed in 2010. The booklet notes that
this short score differs in a number of respects from the piano version
on which Meirion Bowen based his reconstruction. C’est la vie.
This lack of any performing tradition may possibly be of advantage -
at least we are spared the commercial editions of the music which distorted
Weill’s intentions so comprehensively in many recordings of his
later works. It must be said that the performers here do the work proud
although it doesn’t really sound like the familiar Weill of the
Threepenny Opera or the later Broadway musicals. The clean-cut
instrumental lines have none of the immediately jazzy feel that informed
the later music; the sounds remind one more of the music that was being
produced in Paris by Les Six or even, somewhat disconcertingly,
the style of Britten’s early chamber operas such as Albert
Herring. Indeed the whole piece is very much in the lingua franca
of the period, and the influence of Stravinsky’s Soldier’s
Tale is very apparent as well as that of Satie’s orchestral
scores. Would we be interested in the work if it were not by Weill?
Well, yes, I think we would, because the score is always buoyant and
personable, even if Weill’s later flair for melodic invention
is nowhere conspicuously apparent. The early works of composers are
always interesting for the sidelights they shed on the later compositional
developments of the individual writer. Weill’s fingerprints are
everywhere in evidence throughout. The work goes on rather too long
for its material - Weill’s extraction of numbers for his ‘quodlibet’
was obviously well-advised - but the score remains interesting in its
own right. It is marvellous to be able, at last, to hear it in its original
form, and in such a good performance and recording.
Paul Corfield Godfrey