Ferruccio Busoni (1866-1924)
Doktor Faust (1927)
Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (baritone) – Faust
George Shirley (tenor) – Mephistopheles
Ingrid Bjoner (soprano) – Duchess of Parma,
Paul Francke (tenor) – Duke of Parma,
Malcolm Smith (bass) – Wagner,
Lee Cass (bass) – Master of Ceremonies, 1st Voice,
William Metcalf (bass) – Theologian, 3rd Voice,
L. D. Clements, Adib Fazah, Gene Bullard (tenors and basses) – Students, Voices
American Opera Society Chorus and Orchestra/Jascha Horenstein
rec. live, 1 December 1964 at Carnegie Hall, New York,
German text and English translation not included but available on line
PRISTINE AUDIO PACO188 [2 CDs: 126]
Busoni’s Dr Faust is its composer’s finest work and one of the great operas of the twentieth century. Although its central figure is not actually a creative artist, but rather a scholar and a magician, not to mention also a seducer and a cheat, the opera belongs in the succession of German operas which deal with the relationship between artists and their society. This began with Wagner’s Die Meistersinger and continued with Pfitzner’s Palestrina, Hindemith’s Mathis der Maler and Henze’s Elegy for Young Lovers. Busoni’s Faust uses his magical powers to deceive and create uproar, but in the enigmatic ending it seems that something good has come of all this.
Busoni wrote his own libretto, which owes little to Goethe’s play but which derives, rather, from Faust puppet plays and other sources. His plan crystallised in December 1914, when he wrote the libretto out in a few days. He continued working on the music until the end of his life. The idiom is that elusive and haunting one which characterises all his best work; the vocal writing, too, is compelling – this was his fourth opera. A number of smaller works he wrote during this period were actually intended as studies or satellite works for the opera and were incorporated in it. However, he did not live to finish it, and at his death two passages were missing: the dance of Helen of Troy, who appears to Faust in a vision, and the ending. Busoni’s pupil Philipp Jarnach wrote a stopgap ending, which was used for many years. However, about forty years ago the conductor and Busoni expert Antony Beaumont found Busoni’s plan for the missing scenes, which drew on his previous works, and so was able to provide music for them which at least approximates to the composer’s intentions.
The performance here was a concert one. It seems that it was recorded at the conductor’s instigation privately. It was the first performance of the work in the USA. Horenstein knew Busoni personally in the 1920s and attended his master classes. He was to go on to record fourteen of of Busoni’s orchestral works for the BBC, recordings which have yet to appear on CD. Although we do not tend to think of him as an opera conductor, he ran the Düsseldorf opera house for five years before the Nazi takeover and towards the end of his life he conducted Parsifal at Covent Garden. He has a thorough grasp of Busoni’s idiom and secures good playing from the slightly underpowered American Opera Society orchestra, although I think he takes the Wittenberg tavern scene too slowly. This, and the relatively poor execution of the Sarabande, may be due to lack of rehearsal time.
The title role is taken by Fischer-Dieskau, who made a corner in it at the time. He had given a concert performance of a drastically abridged version with Boult in 1959 with a starry cast and the London Philharmonic Orchestra, which is now available on their label (review). He also features in the Ferdinand Leitner recording on DG, which dates from 1969 and was based on a run of stage performances. Horenstein’s supporting cast is good: the cruelly high tenor role of Mephistopheles is taken by George Shirley, a lyrical voice of caressing sweetness and malice. The only female role, that of the Duchess of Parma, whom Faust seduces and abandons, is taken by the excellent Ingrid Bjoner and the smaller parts are all adequate, as is the chorus.
However, the score is very drastically cut. This version runs to just over two hours; the only really complete version, that of Nagano, runs to over three. Not only is one complete scene omitted, there are smaller and larger cuts throughout the work. The Leitner version is also considerably cut, though not as much. Furthermore, all three of these early recordings were made before Beaumont’s reconstruction of the missing scenes and had, perforce, to use Jarnach’s stopgap version.
The recording also leaves a lot to be desired, particularly as regards the singers. Some passages are simply inaudible, whereas Fischer-Dieskau seems at times to have been singing too close to the microphone and he sounds as if he is forcing his voice. Despite his championing of the role, for which we shall always be grateful, it was perhaps rather too heavy for him. The orchestra and chorus, however, come over reasonably well, in a similar quality to that of radio broadcasts of the time, though I need to stress that this recording does not derive from a broadcast.
Had this appeared on disc when it was recorded, collectors would have seized on it with joy. However, it has to be seen now as a historical document. The Nagano recording is the only really complete one, and in fact it includes both the Jarnach and the Beaumont completions. The only other recording to have appeared in recent years, under Netopil, includes neither, which is enough to rule it out of court straightaway. The Nagano version also includes the complete libretto in German, English and French, which no other version does. I was using it in listening to this Horenstein version, though in fact Pristine Audio provide a version in German and English on line.
I wish I could be more enthusiastic about this recording. The Busoni enthusiast might want it as a supplement to the Nagano version, which has to be the first port of call. However, given Horenstein’s grasp of the idiom, I do hope that those BBC recordings can see the light of day before too long.
Stephen Barber
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