There is no doubting
that this live Tristan exudes
a certain magnificence. This despite
a catalogue of hurdles to one’s enjoyment
– inclement weather (boy, was it windy
that day!) and a recording that hides
much orchestral detail being paramount
amongst those barriers.
It is instructive to
compare this version with Böhm’s
much more famous Bayreuth/DG performance
(1966, DG The Originals 449 772-2).
The Prelude to Act 1, for example, does
not have the same intensity in Orange
as it does on the Green Hill. Yet how
fascinating to watch this conductor
in action and to marvel at how his minions
follow him – downbeats are vague in
the extreme. On the production side
of things, there is an annoying habit
of cutting from the ongoing Prelude
to the cast list and back. This is distracting
and is still going on 10 minutes in!.
A missing beat at around 4’34 similarly
annoys. Nevertheless, there are interesting
things to note about the qualities of
actually seeing the performance in progress
– if we did not see the double-basses
at one point, would we follow their
important three-note figure at that
point at all?
Recorded balance is,
perhaps understandably, variable. Isolde
(Nilsson) in her opening scene is distanced,
the orchestra close-up. Yet how wonderful
to see how impressive and imposing Nilsson
looked as Isolde, proud and defiant.
She was not young at the time (55!)
yet her vocal powers are almost all
there, and her mature conception of
the role is certainly all present and
correct. Her vocal acting is supreme
(compensating at times for weaker lower
notes); and how memorable is her floating
of the phrase ‘Er sah mich in die Augen’.
But most impressive, surely, is her
Curse. Surely there can have been fewer
more frightening invocations of the
dark powers of black magic than this.
Jon Vickers’ Tristan
makes an impressive entrance, becoming
particularly strong at the end of the
first Act. Vickers’ timbre is instantly
recognisable. Of course, it is in Act
II that heights of passionate lyricism
are reached (a fact that Böhm seems
intent on pushing right from the word
go – the Act opens with an orchestral
‘scream’ and Böhm at his fluent
best). The still on the cover of the
product is taken from the famous duet
(‘O sink’ hernirder’). A pity Vickers’
acting ability tends towards zero –
in fact a pity that the duet is lit
at all (a Goodall Tristan at ENO in
the eighties had the stage lit in such
a way that it was impossible to distinguish
where the voices came from – a remarkable
visual analogy for the wedding of souls
that takes place here). The endless
motivic repetitions on the scene do
indeed give the impression that this
night could go on forever in this most
spiritually yet also sexually charged
prolongation of the highest form of
love. Brangaene’s Warning emerges here
as the stroke of dramatic genius it
really is – her voice really does surface
as if it comes from another planet.
In fact, throughout the work, Ruth Hesse’s
Brangaene is an excellent foil to Nilsson’s
Isolde – the scene in Act I where Wagner
contrasts Brangaene’s hero-worship of
Tristan against Isolde’s answers (a
masterclass in musically-composed sarcasm)
is particularly impressive.
Bengt Rundgren’s King
Marke is very, very strong of voice,
but there is just so much vibrato there
it is off-putting. His costume and make-up
hardly does him any favours, either
– just where did they get that stuck-on
wig from?. A last minute addition from
a joke-shop up the road, surely. Like
Vickers, if you don’t look at him there
is much to admire – his ‘Dies Tristan,
Dies Tristan zu mir’ in Act 2 is really
heartfelt, a vocal portrait of disbelief
and disappointment; again, in Act 3,
he is a powerful vocal presence.
The Act III Prelude
is magnificent as an evocation of Tristan’s
spiritual desolation (Böhm looking
here for all the world like Nosferatu!).
Walter Berry’s Kurwenal looks so
devastated as he sits beside the prostrate
Tristan.
The cor anglais’ solos
balance the off-stage Sailor in Act
I in that an extended monodic line that
carries high semiotic and dramatic meaning.
Both solos make their emotional point
in this performance. If only Kurwenal’s
surprise at Tristan’s awakening weren’t
so stagey – yet all memory is effectively
erased because of the power of Vickers’
monologues. Indeed, Vickers is at the
very apex of his powers in this Act
– the crushing disappointment he feels
when, instead of an approaching ship
all that one hears is the cor anglais’
piping, is visceral. Vickers has just
the right ‘Helden-edge’ (that edginess
of tone so characteristic of a Heldentenor)
so that his voice cuts across and through
anything.
Of course it is Isolde
who closes proceedings. Comparison between
this ‘Verklärung’ and that of 1966
is instructional. Nilsson’s placing
of ‘Hoch sich hebt’ is just as awe-inspiring,
just as spot-on; yet the repeated fortissimo
brass chords so cataclysmic in 1966
are less than that here, the recording
not helping by putting them firmly in
the background.
Perhaps it is Böhm
that emerges as the hero in the final
analysis. His pacing of Act I is excellent,
so much so that the climactic final
moments as Tristan and Isolde ‘discover’
one another are positively rapturous
(the ecstatic applause at the end of
this act is fully deserved); Act II
becomes an unforgettable love-poem;
Act III, along with the Wotan-Brünnhilde
end of Walküre, becomes
one of the greatest of all leave-takings.
If only we could hear more of the orchestral
detail that was surely there in 1973.
But to speak so is almost blasphemous
– we should be eternally grateful we
have this at all.
English subtitles are
available. Mainly reliable, there are
some interesting licences, chief among
them being the translation of ‘Welt-Atem’
in the Verklärung as ‘Universal
Stream’ (as opposed to the more literal,
and usual, ‘World’s-breath’) … The staging
is spare, yet effective, concentrating
the concentration on events on-stage.
The fact remains that
whatever the shortcomings of this DVD
(strange balances, jerky camera-work
etc), this is an experience to treasure.
It should be in every Wagnerian’s collection.
Colin Clarke
New Philharmonia Chorus 
HCD4009 (240’00) 