The passing of Sir Colin Davis has left a big hole 
          in British musical life. One of his most important and long-lasting 
          musical relationships was with the LSO and, more recently, LSO Live, 
          which has brought us some of the finest recordings of his career. Here 
          they bring us his final opera recording, and it’s definitely worth 
          exploring, even though most of the time it is very clearly a 
concert 
          recording. 
            
          It’s appropriate that the star of the recording is Davis himself 
          and, in partnership, the London Symphony Orchestra. They are at their 
          absolute finest in the splendid account of the overture that opens the 
          set. It’s wonderfully atmospheric. Listen, for example, to those 
          opening string phrases, redolent with meaning - is it menace or promise? 
          Then there’s that magical horn quartet that sounds like the mist 
          rising, here beautifully played and recorded, as fine as I've ever heard 
          it. Next along comes the C minor theme associated with Samiel's evil 
          magic, here sounding urgent, thrusting and angular, even frightening 
          in places. Yes, Agathe's C major theme wins in the end, but here it 
          sounds like more of a struggle than I've ever heard before, thanks primarily 
          to the fantastically exciting sound of the LSO brass. Davis too, a showman 
          to his fingertips, is unafraid to throw in a diminuendo or a ritardando 
          to heighten the dramatic tension and wrong-foot the listener: the pauses 
          between the pizzicato chords that introduce the coda, for example, seem 
          to go on for ever but then give way to a blazing climax that sets the 
          seal on the overture and heightens the listener's sense of excitement 
          for the opera that is about to unfold. 
            
          The orchestra consistently revel in the opportunity to let their hair 
          down and relish Weber's extraordinary colour. Listen, for example, to 
          the abandon with which they throw themselves into the hunters' waltz 
          in Act 1 or the rollicking of the horns in the entr'acte that opens 
          Act 3, not to mention the Hunters’ Chorus itself. The piccolos 
          that punctuate Caspar's drinking-song sound positively devilish and 
          the string tremolos that accompany the references to Samiel are chilling. 
          The low brass that accompany the Hermit's utterances are appropriately 
          awe-inspiring, and the solo flute and cello that play so important a 
          role in the scene of Max's pardon add a lovely touch of colour.  
          The players are also very good at conjuring up entirely different sound-worlds 
          for, say, the outdoor exuberance of the hunters' scenes and the domestic 
          interior world of Agathe and Ännchen. 
            
          The singers are also very good, if rather earthbound in places, and 
          it is here that you most get the sense that this is a recording of a 
          concert rather than a lived-in dramatic experience. That’s particularly 
          true for the women. Christine Brewer is a treat for the ears. Her rich 
          refulgent voice gives the role a luxurious quality that you seldom hear, 
          even from the likes of Gundula Janowitz. It's something to revel in, 
          even if it's not particularly well acted. She sounds more like a Wagnerian 
          princess than a humble hunter's daughter, but for many that will be 
          a price worth paying for such a resplendent account of 
Leise, leise, 
          though perhaps it doesn't work quite so well for 
Und ob die Wolke.  
          Sally Matthews sounds great, but her Ännchen isn't as skittish 
          and light-hearted as you might have hoped. I can imagine her making 
          a very successful Agathe one day, but it’s a problem that the 
          two female roles aren’t particularly well contrasted. 
            
          As for the men, Simon O'Neill is an ardent, heroic Max. Perhaps he doesn't 
          have the excitement of Rudolf Schock or, on Davis’ earlier recording, 
          the honeyed smoothness of Francisco Araiza, but he is fully inside the 
          drama of the part. He doesn't quite relax into 
Durch die Wälder 
          in the lyrical manner of Peter Schreier but he rises to an exciting 
          climax at the end of the aria when he questions the very existence of 
          God. Lars Woldt as Caspar has a touch of gravel in his voice that 
          points up the sinister elements of his character and sets him apart 
          from the more dignified bass voice of, say, Martin Snell's Cuno. While 
          Woldt may not be as blackly malevolent as Matti Salminen in 
Harnoncourt’s 
          recording he is fantastically devilish in his aria at the end of 
          Act 1 where he exults in Max's pending destruction. Stephan Loges is 
          a vigorous and interesting Ottakar, though Gidon Saks is an underwhelming 
          Hermit, the low tessitura evading him somewhat. 
            
          The LSO Chorus do sound primarily like a symphonic chorus, and some 
          of the excitement of the text eludes them somewhat, but they still make 
          a fantastic sound, especially when they throw themselves into the opening 
          chorus celebrating Kilian’s victory, and they help to raise the 
          roof in the final bars. 
            
          The one place where the limitations of a concert setting are put aside 
          comes, as well it should, with the Wolf's Glen scene, which the engineers 
          have captured with cunning use of off-stage effects, creative placing 
          of microphones and even some sound-effects like a gathering thunderstorm. 
          It's very effective and is one of the moments where the pulse really 
          quickens. 
            
          No-one should dismiss this 
Freischütz out of hand - it is 
          definitely worth hearing, especially for the contribution of Davis and 
          the orchestra, and it is a very good recording to have as Davis’ 
          final opera - but I don’t think it really holds the field against 
          the competition. Nor is it as compelling as some of Davis’s other 
          LSO Live opera sets, most notably his Berlioz cycle which reflected 
          this conductor’s magnificent Indian Summer when it came to that 
          composer with whom he had spent his entire artistic life. 
            
          As for a first choice 
Freischütz, for me Kleiber’s 
          recording still beats off all comers and, even though I was a little 
          rude about it at the time, I like 
Keilberth’s 
          1958 recording more and more the more I hear it. This LSO Live edition 
          comes at a bargain price, but the recording omits the dialogue, which 
          some will like but which I most certainly did not. The booklet contains 
          the German sung texts with the English translation but the synopsis 
          is irritatingly incomplete, leaving out key details such as the mistaken 
          wreath or even the shooting of Agathe, so you'd be well advised to have 
          some extra help at hand when you sit down to listen.   
          
          
Simon Thompson 
            
          
          See also review by 
Göran 
          Forsling