There are quite a number of recordings of
Gurrelieder
in the current catalogue, several of them very fine. I particularly
admire two: Riccardo Chailly’s 1985 Decca version, in which, as
here, Siegfried Jerusalem sings Waldemar and Simon Rattle’s 2001
recording for EMI (
review).
I don’t believe that we reviewed this Abbado recording on MusicWeb
International in its original incarnation but I noticed, in trawling
through reviews of other versions, how often in the past it had been
cited admiringly by colleagues. Now that I’ve heard it for myself
that doesn’t surprise me.
Everything about this recording impresses. Siegfried Jerusalem is on
top form as Waldemar. He seems able to encompass all aspects of the
role. He’s ideally equipped for the
Heldentenor passages,
such as ‘Herrgott. Weiβt du, was du tatest’ to which,
in impassioned rage, he brings real Wagnerian strength. However, he’s
also willing and able to fine down his voice and to deliver the more
gentle pages, such as his opening solo or ‘Du wunderliche Tove!’
with lyrical refinement. Opposite him as Tove is Sharon Sweet. She too
has a big voice yet she’s equally capable of more intimate singing
in a rounded portrayal of Waldemar’s beloved. So, for instance,
she sounds eager and excited in ‘Sterne jubeln, das Meer, es leuchtet’
while she begins ‘Nun sag ich dir zum ersten Mal’ with wonder
and gentle rapture, building the ecstasy as the solo unfolds.
The other soloists have less extended roles. Hartmut Welker is good
as the Peasant: he’s suitably rustic. Philip Langridge, who was
to reprise the role of Klaus-Narr for Rattle, sings his solo in a very
characterful way. However, even more excellent than the gentlemen is
Marjana Lipovšek, who gives an utterly compelling performance of
the Wood Dove’s lament. She’s tremendously expressive from
the start and, later on, from ‘Den Sarg sah ich auf Königs
Schultern’ her narration is very dramatic. She brings searing
intensity to the closing moments, starting at ‘Wollt’ ein
Mönsch am Seile ziehn’. This is an absolutely outstanding
account of the Wood Dove’s music, one of the most gripping that
I can recall hearing.
Before leaving the singers I should just say that the relatively limited
choral passages - only about 15 minutes in a score lasting over 105
minutes - are done extremely well.
One more female soloist is involved. Uniquely in my experience, Abbado
uses a female artist as the Speaker. This is the German actress, Barbara
Sukowa. We’re more accustomed to hearing male singers - or retired
singers - in this role, such as Hans Hotter (Chailly) or Thomas Quasthoff
(Rattle) while the BBC announcer, Alvar Lidell was a somewhat unconventional,
though successful, choice for Stokowski’s 1962 Edinburgh Festival
performance (
review).
There is no reason of which I’m aware - other than custom - why
a female voice should not be heard in this role and in the very useful
booklet note we learn that a lady took this role in a performance in
Leipzig as early as 1914. In fact, I think the female voice works pretty
well in many respects, not least in underlining the kinship with
Pierrot
Lunaire.
I was convinced by Miss Sukowa; she’s admirable
in the many passages that call for delicacy though her voice doesn’t
have the weight and amplitude to bring off the final ecstatic cry of
‘Erwacht, erwacht, ihr Blumen, zur Wonne!’
Complementing all this very fine solo work is the magnificent playing
of the Wiener Philharmoniker. Starting with a beautifully spun account
of the Prelude, their playing consistently adds lustre to Schoenberg’s
scoring. All the late Romantic ripeness, especially in Parts I and II,
is sumptuously delivered and they’re just as adept in delivering
the more ‘advanced’ accompaniments, to Klaus-Narr and the
Speaker. The expansive Interlude before the Wood Dove’s lament
sounds wonderful with rich, sumptuous sound at the start giving way
later to an abundance of orchestral power. That’s just one example
in a fabulous account of Schoenberg’s orchestral score.
I’ve no doubt that the orchestral response was heightened by having
a conductor like Abbado on the podium. The word ‘great’
tends to be applied too readily to artists these days but surely Abbado
is one of the great conductors of his generation and to this score he
can bring his tremendous expertise in both modern music and in the music
of the late Romantics such as Mahler. He marshals the vast forces with
consummate skill and his fastidious ear is a great asset in the many
stretches of the score where Schoenberg requires playing of chamber-like
delicacy.
This is a tremendous account of
Gurrelieder, which I’m
sure is one of the foremost versions in the catalogue and it’s
great news that Eloquence have restored it to the catalogue. The timing
is especially apt given that Claudio Abbado celebrated his eightieth
birthday earlier in 2013. The DG engineers did a great job in taping
the live performances from which this recording is taken. The only disappointment
is that no texts and translations are supplied. Many collectors will
have other versions on their shelves which will enable them to access
the text but newcomers to the score won’t be so fortunate. That
drawback is not sufficient, however, to prevent this reissue being accorded
the warmest of welcomes.
John Quinn
