Arturo Toscanini’s 
                Tristan und Isolde from the 1930 
                Bayreuth Festival – the conductor’s 
                debut, and the first non-German conductor 
                to work at the festival - may well be 
                the only performance of the opera that 
                Wagnerites hear as an interpretation 
                in their mind rather than through the 
                medium of real sound. Its reputation 
                is legendary, bestriding Tristan’s 
                at Bayreuth from Elmendorff and Furtwängler, 
                and is cast with the strongest possible 
                Wagnerian singers of the time. Interpretatively, 
                this is one of the slowest Act I’s on 
                record – at just over 90 minutes in 
                length only Bernstein, more than half 
                a century later, in Munich, exceeded 
                it. 
              
 
              
Toscanini conducted 
                a great deal of Wagner throughout his 
                long career, although complete operas 
                from him were rare (he only returned 
                to Bayreuth once more, to conduct Tannhäuser, 
                in 1931, and withdrew from the 1933 
                festival because of Hitler’s accession 
                in Germany). A surprisingly large amount 
                of this material remains unpublished 
                – his 1937 BBC Wagner concert, in variable 
                sound, contains performances of the 
                Faust Overture, ‘Siegfried’s 
                Rhine Journey’, Siegfried Idyll, 
                Lohengrin Preludes to Act I and 
                Act III, ‘Forest Murmurs’, Tannhäuser 
                - Overture and Venusberg Music - and 
                ‘Ride of Valkyries’. His 1952 La Scala 
                Wagner concert contains unpublished 
                performances of Siegfried Idyll, 
                ‘Siegfried’s Rhine Journey’, ‘Siegfried’s 
                Funeral Music’, Lohengrin Preludes 
                to Act I and Act III, Meistersinger 
                Act I Prelude, ‘Good Friday Music’, 
                ‘Forest Murmurs’ and ‘Ride of Valkyries’ 
                and his Lucerne concert from 1938 has 
                Siegfried Idyll and Meistersinger 
                Preludes to Act I and Act III. Of his 
                NBC Symphony concerts, ones from March 
                1938, February and October 1939, January 
                1946 and April 1947 all remain unpublished. 
                All of these concerts offer extraordinarily 
                fertile interpretations, and show a 
                conductor who constantly evolved and 
                shifted his insights into Wagner’s music. 
                Tempi are invariably shaped differently 
                between concerts, sometimes markedly 
                so. 
              
 
              
The discovery of this 
                Act I from Tristan, which has 
                been reproduced faithfully, if in rather 
                opaque sound, is something of a revelation. 
                Whilst Toscanini often programmed music 
                from the Ring, Lohengrin 
                and Meistersinger, he returned 
                to Tristan relatively infrequently 
                after his Bayreuth performance, so this 
                is not just an exceptional find, but 
                one of paramount historical interest. 
                The length, in part, can be attributed 
                to the fact that Toscanini allows this 
                music to breath with unusual fidelity 
                to the score. We get a wonderful full 
                bar’s rest after the opening chord, 
                for example. It was not always the case 
                with this conductor that this was reproduced 
                so faithfully in his conducting of Tristan 
                in later years. 
              
 
              
What emerges, however, 
                is a performance not just of breadth 
                but of Romantic lyricism, an unusual 
                concept for a Bayreuth audience more 
                used to hearing Elmendorff’s stereotypically 
                restrained Germanic ascent through the 
                score’s terrain. Bayreuth audiences 
                may have considered Toscanini’s Nordic 
                Italian roots to be quasi Germanic, 
                but the impression this recording of 
                Act I gives is of a musician who endows 
                the score with an overt Italian warmth; 
                it comes closest to de Sabata’s post-War 
                Tristan in terms of its sonorities, 
                but without the fiery La Scala drive 
                which sometimes overwhelms de Sabata’s 
                account. True, the orchestra’s contribution 
                is robust, even rather matter of fact, 
                but compared to Elmendorff their string 
                legato sings with a rapture German conductors 
                did not capture at the time. There is 
                an underlying clarity and precision 
                which stamps itself on the performance; 
                rhythms are razor-sharp, even tellingly 
                defined, and Toscanini is able to control 
                the act’s romantic passion without drying 
                out the opera’s inherent eroticism. 
                Perhaps most impressively, and this 
                is where the performance outshines Elmendorff, 
                is in his shaping of the act’s progression 
                from Prelude to conclusion. Toscanini’s 
                devotion to Wagner and his intimate 
                knowledge of the score, allows him to 
                take the act in a single, unbroken musical 
                line. 
              
 
              
His singers are at 
                one with their conductor’s conception. 
                Lauritz Melchior in perfect vocal control, 
                is never less than deeply involved. 
                "Was ist? Isolde" comes from 
                a deep preoccupation with his Isolde, 
                but almost from the beginning one detects 
                this as being the most noble and restrained 
                of Tristans, helped in no small measure 
                by Toscanini’s gripping control over 
                the orchestra. There is the slightest 
                hint of panic in his voice – which is 
                what he should be expressing – at "Wo 
                sind wir?", and Toscanini encourages 
                Melchior, through the deeply expressive 
                string tone, to a closing scene with 
                his Isolde of considerable devotion. 
                Nanny Larsén-Todsen is a magnificently 
                well-defined Isolde, the voice moving 
                between dark-toned beauty and barely 
                suppressed starkness in her exchanges 
                with Anny Helm’s liquidly sung Brangäne. 
                Her curse is rivetingly done. Only the 
                Kurwenal of Rudolf Bockelmann slightly 
                disappoints, in part because of a lack 
                of flexibility his slightly high baritone 
                voice sometimes betrays. One wishes 
                here – and it is the only possible criticism 
                of this astounding performance – that 
                Toscanini’s Kurwenal had been Friedrich 
                Schorr, a singer both more solid of 
                phrasing and more rich in thought. Bockelmann 
                lacks the insolence in his exchanges 
                with Brangäne, but there is no 
                doubting his loyalty to Melchior’s Tristan. 
              
 
              
Anything by Toscanini 
                is worth listening to, but his Wagner 
                could be very special. This performance 
                is exactly that, a record of a unique 
                musical occasion preserved in more than 
                serviceable sound. If Act’s II and III 
                ever emerge from the archives, this 
                could just be the finest Tristan 
                of the Twentieth Century. 
              
 
              
Marc Bridle