This year (2003) has witnessed a modest flurry of Zemlinsky
releases.
This Chailly Decca double at midprice is up against
numerous competition in the Lyrische Symphonie. Ian
Lace has very recently reviewed the versions with Dorothy
Dorow and Siegmund Nimsgern (BBCSO/Gabriele Ferro Warner Fonit
0927 43405-2, 1978) and Vlatka Orsanic and James Johnson (SWFSO/Michael
Gielen Arte Nova 74321 27768 2, 1994 and pronounced judgement
in favour of the Gielen). There is also the single Chandos disc
in which the Czech Phil is conducted by Zemlinsky/Busoni specialist,
Antony Beaumont. These are now set against Chailly's Lyric. Beaumont's
coupling is the incidental music to Cymbeline recorded complete
for the first time. The others either have no coupling or are
very modestly coupled. The Chailly/Decca box has good notes but
no texts (reportedly, the same goes for Ferro and Gielen) where
the Beaumont/Chandos CD is superbly documented with full texts
and translations.
In the case of the Lyrische Symphonie the
most demanding listeners will note some congestion at the climaxes
which in the Chandos are accommodated with easy transparency.
Take as an example the sound of the horns in tr. 2 4.58 which
are clear but recessed and slightly mistily focussed for Chailly
yet stand clear in sharp focus in the Chandos. Although Zemlinsky
promoted the Symphonie as a work after the example of Mahler's
Das Lied there are few if any parallels between the two.
While the Tagore poems chart the trajectory of an affair the Bethge
translations are more varied and solitary in subject matter. Marc
sounds beautiful if rather thickly laid on by comparison with
the Turid Karlsen for Chandos. On balance I favour Karlsen - more
shantung silk than theatrical armour plate - for her less adipose
sound although Marc makes a most lovely sound - closer to Ferrier
than to Davrath or Teyte.
The Chandos has a small edge in that the Beaumont
represents the first recording of Beaumont's own corrected urtext
of the score based on his own Zemlinsky scholarship among parts,
mss and correction sheets.
The Symphonische Gesänge are painted
in starker colours - not as shimmering as those in the Lyrische
Symphonie. The seven poems (the same number as for the Op.
18 work) are taken from German translations of the black poetry
of 1920s USA. Just as with the Symphonie the songs are played
without a break (although they are of course separately tracked).
The year was 1929 the place Vienna. One can easily imagine the
curdled fate that greeted a song cycle of negro poems by a Jewish
composer. In the seven or so years since the Lyrische Symphonie
Zemlinsky’s style had gravitated towards the gaunt and acerbic.
Certainly there is none of the ecstatic jugendstil gauze-play
of the Symphonie. If he sounds like anyone then here he is somewhat
like Kurt Weill in corrosive and acrid mode. Willard White is
sturdy as an anchor, his voice rich in allusory colour catching
the resentment and resignation of these protest poems. Erkenntnis
is a good track to sample for lullaby power and Afrikanischer
Tanz the strangest.
There are three Psalms for choir and orchestra
across this set. The Psalm 83 work is contemporary with
the opera Es war einmal (1900). It is catastrophic, protesting
and carries souvenirs of the choral works of Schumann and Brahms.
At its climax (08.16) it may remind you of Delius's Mass of
Life. It is swung and flamed along with perfervid fire by
the Slovak Philharmonic Choir. Psalm 13 is a work in which
balm and fury meet. The eminence accorded to the female voices
echoes the gentle colour scheme of Holst's Hymn of Jesus and
Ode to Death. There are demonstrative moments too as in
the blurt and blare of the raging brass at 08.54 rising to the
entry of the organ. The piece ends in a triumphant barbarian blaze;
a touch conventional but extremely effective. More carefree and
playful work appears in Psalm 23, for all the world like
Herrrmann's music for The Magnificent Ambersons. The women's
voices are once again dominant for much of the time. The gestural
brass writing recalls that in the earlier songs of the Lyrische
Symphonie. Surprisingly the choral singing can sometimes suggest
Elgar. At other times, as noted previously, the music sounds the
same note as Delius's wild exuberance in A Mass of Life.
The work ends in glimmering enchantment of a Klimt-like astral
firmament.
This version of Eine florentinische Tragödie
originally appeared as part of Decca's lamentedly deleted
‘Entartete Musik’ series (recently reissued complete at bargain
price in Germany but not frustratingly not elsewhere; now apparently
sold out). It sounds very well indeed: silky of string sound in
the Vorspiel and brazenly brawny elsewhere. This opera
continues a strain which also takes in Max von Schillings Mona
Lisa (1915), a work I must hear, Korngold's Violanta (1916)
and Schrecker's Die Gezeichneten (1918) - all mentioned
in the booklet notes but also extends to Montemezzi's Amor
di Tre Rei and Puccini's Turandot. The theatre of sadistic
cruelty had a potent draw and can also be traced to Delius's 1920s
music for Flecker's play Hassan where the lovers are tortured
to death and the march of the torturers is called The Procession
of Protracted Death. Ecstasy, sadism, sex and death make for
a heady brew. Zemlinsky is the man for bringing this to the boil.
In the one-acter's storyline Simone is suddenly transformed in
his wife’s eyes, into a devastatingly attractive man but only
after he has strangled Guido her aristocratic lover, in front
of her very eyes. Their marriage is revived and the opera ends
with her words 'Why did you not tell me you were so strong' and
with his words 'Why did you not tell me you were beautiful.' Simone
is sung by Heinz Kruse (also in Decca’s version of Zemlinsky’s
opera Die Gezeichneten in the ‘Entartete Musik’ series)
who at all times sings and sounds more burly and substantial than
the doomed effete lover Guido (Albert Dohmen). As expected this
is all superheated stuff but laced with intimations of the waltz
and of Richard Strauss (Elektra at one moment and Rosenkavalier
at the next). The wonderful sense of fate extending at epic
reach in front of the character can be heard in the start of the
duet of Guido and Bianca (tr. 7). This is a concise little shocker,
heroic, gritty, sensuous. It must not be missed by those who respond
to verismo. Gloriously sung and performed here. On a par with
the Willard White Symphonische Gesänge as an example
of classic Zemlinsky.
This is a very generous coupling, neatly packaged
in a single width double case. The notes are good (though no texts
at all despite all of the works having a vocal element). A no
compromise Zemlinsky primer.
Rob Barnett