This looked promising, but I’m afraid
it’s more one for the specialists. For
one thing, the sound is, well, like
a typical 1940s film soundtrack, shallow
and dry in the orchestra, with the voices
very far forward and given a cavernous
air by the lack of upper frequencies.
Of course, a certain type of collector
(including myself) will put up with
much worse than this for a performance
that knocks spots off all subsequent
competition but on the whole the verdict
is of a fine, sometimes marvellous performance
but not quite as marvellous as some
better-sounding studio performances.
We know Fritz Reiner
(1888-1963) above all for the wonderful
series of records he made during the
last decade of his life in Chicago and
so tend to think of him as a symphonic
conductor. But, like virtually all European
conductors of his day, he had worked
his way up through the opera house and
was appearing regularly at the Met at
the time of this performance. It is
interesting to note how the super-tight
ensemble he always drew from his musicians
nonetheless allows the singers space
to breathe – he is far from inflexible.
However, while this Rosenkavalier
does not lack poetry or warmth,
it is above all a tense, purposeful
affair and I wonder if the blind listener
would realise he was hearing a comic
opera? Erich Kleiber, whose 1954 recording
was the first ever unabridged version,
was as much of a relentless perfectionist
as Reiner, yet he is able to bathe the
characters in a warm glow of humanity
which Reiner just misses. Of course,
having the Vienna Philharmonic to play
music that is in their very collective
bones helps, and so does a warmer acoustic
and far better recording (though a little
shrill as transferred on DECCA 467 111-2);
maybe Reiner would make a different
impression in better sound but I can’t
help wishing he was conducting Salomé
or Die Frau ohne Schatten instead.
Another famous recording
followed two years later, conducted
by Herbert von Karajan (EMI CMS 5 67605
2). At times an imaginative genius is
at work, as in Sophie and Octavian’s
first meeting which is drawn out like
a Delius tone-poem, leaving time suspended.
It was an interpretation which set the
stage for many more personalised interpretations
to come, but the trouble is, if you
don’t know your basic Rosenkavalier
then the variants from the norm
will become, for you, the norm, and
that is dangerous. The Kleiber version
conserves the best of a Viennese tradition
which had its roots in Strauss’s own
world.
The casting of the
Met performance certainly differentiates
between the leading ladies. The strongest
performance is that of Eleanor Steber
(1914-1990) as the Marschallin, pouring
forth much steady, sumptuous tone and
characterising authoritatively. She
stands up well beside Maria Reining
in the Kleiber recording who, some say,
recorded the role a little late in her
career (she was 51). Well, Strauss himself
said the Marschallin was 35, and that
is the age of Steber when she sang this
performance. But my ears at least don’t
register the difference and they seem
to me equally effective. A quite different
type of interpretation is to be heard
from Elisabeth Schwarzkopf on the Karajan
set, much more lieder-like in its savouring
of the words, and obviously fitting
in with the conductor’s own conception.
Erna Berger (1900-1990)
was making her Met debut – she was 49.
She was noted for a light, girlish timbre
which she is said to have preserved
throughout her career (she ceased to
sing in 1955). This was the kind of
voice ridiculed by Anna Russell as "the
Nymphs and Shepherds, or ‘pure white’
style of singing" – an effect obtained
by very clear vowels (no rounding of
the Is and Es) and little vibrato. I
have to say I don’t care for it much,
even in "Nymphs and Shepherds",
and furthermore, whatever people say,
it sounds the voice of a middle-aged
woman to me. I cannot possibly imagine
anyone preferring this to Hilde Gueden’s
creamy tones on the Kleiber recording.
Teresa Stich-Randall, who sings Sophie
for Karajan, was also said to have a
clear, virginal voice, but I find much
more quality to it than Berger’s. There
are some moments of pure magic where
her almost disembodied high tones float
above Karajan’s diaphanous orchestra.
All the same, Gueden’s is surely more
central to the Strauss tradition.
Berger’s girlish tones
certainly make maximum contrast with
the feisty mezzo of Risë Stevens.
This is a strong performance, but not
a particularly subtle one (anything
but in her Mariandl moments) and the
end result is that Octavian and Sophie
both sound too old (they are supposed
to be in their teens). Perhaps it is
not fair to compare her with Kleiber’s
Sena Jurinac since that is a soprano
interpretation (the role can be sung
by either soprano or mezzo) but all
the same, who could not prefer Jurinac’s
lovely bell-like tones and the generally
far more sympathetic character she draws?
Karajan had a mezzo, the young Christa
Ludwig, and she, too, makes a far more
lovable person of Octavian.
Emanuel List has a
bigger and blacker voice than the singers
on the Kleiber and Karajan sets and,
heard and seen live, it must have been
quite a performance – the audience rises
to him rapturously after the second
and third acts. However, as a listening
experience it has to be said that there
is more barking than singing – he was
by then 63 after all. For Kleiber, Ludwig
Weber sings far more, exuding smarmy,
self-satisfied charm; surely Strauss
wanted a comic seducer rather than a
comic villain. Otto Edelmann, for Karajan,
is basically in similar mould, but as
this is a Karajan performance he is
encouraged to drop frequently into a
sort of crooning half-voice, notably
in his monologue at the end of Act Two.
This could be tiresome on repeated hearings.
The other singers don’t
make or break this opera, but for what
it is worth the Faninal is better managed
on the other sets by Alfred Poell (Kleiber)
and Eberhard Wächter (Karajan).
The latter recording has some remarkably
distinguished names in the smaller roles
(Ljuba Welitsch as Marianne, Kerstin
Meyer as Annina) while Kleiber perhaps
benefits even more from the famed Vienna
"house" team of the time,
all steeped in the Straussian tradition.
As the Italian Singer, Giuseppe Di Stefano
is obviously just that. Unfortunately
he seems to want to demonstrate the
point by spreading himself unduly, adding
an extra half-beat to the bar every
time he takes a breath. Reiner evidently
doesn’t agree and, in place of his considerate
collaboration with the rest of the cast,
has the orchestra anticipate him at
the beginning of every phrase. Since
musicians flaunted Reiner’s will at
their peril, this could have been a
genuine attempt to "throw"
him and make a fool of him. It can also
be heard that, even at this early stage
in his career, Di Stefano was wont to
be a shade flat on his top notes. In
comparison Anton Dermota (Kleiber) and
Nicolai Gedda (Karajan) are both nonpareils
of vocal elegance and sound quite Italianate
enough for this context.
The recording gives
what has remained of the broadcast announcements,
including a few words with Reiner, and
the presentation is excellent with biographical
information about the leading singers
and conductor. There is no libretto
but the synopsis is very detailed.
All things considered,
I feel this is a set best left to specialists
of archive recordings. When I want to
hear Rosenkavalier for pleasure
it will always be the Kleiber version,
or just sometimes the Karajan, to which
I will turn and I doubt if I will ever
hear this one again complete, though
I am glad to have it to hand for comparisons
in specific passages, particularly when
Steber is singing.
Christopher Howell
Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan
Opera, New York/Fritz Reiner 