Having just reviewed
a book listing recordings of music inspired
by art (review),
a seminal interpretation of a major
twentieth century opera arrives for
my consideration. Had the book run to
DVD listings, no doubt this present
release would have been ripe for inclusion.
The book also omits, because of its
terms of reference rather than carelessness)
the now available recording of the La
Fenice world premiere in 1951 (Gala
CD), conducted by the composer. His
later studio recording is listed (Sony
SM2K 46299); and there are others from
Chailly, Ozawa, Nagano, Gardiner, and
two from Robert Craft.
There is perhaps more
urgency to see as well as hear this
work than there is with most, so close
is the impact of the visual inspiration
upon it. It prompts questions regarding
influence, inspiration and even interpretation
of the work to which, more than any
other, version, this release is able
to offer a response. And with this production
there is a double circle of inspiration
at work: in the music and the production
design. The inspirational circle of
the music is drawn from Hogarth through
Mozart to Stravinsky, whilst that of
the design is more directly from Hogarth
to Hockney, though taking full account
of Stravinsky en route. Curious interweavings
are at work.
To my eyes and ears
one of the keys to the success this
production enjoyed is to be found in
the premiere at La Fenice. Stravinsky,
normally money conscious whatever the
opportunity, worked on the score for
three years without commission with
the promise that La Fenice would stage
it. The reason? The relatively chamber-sized
proportions of the old house perfectly
suited his intentions for the scheme.
The translation from one house to another
could appear almost seamless with the
intimate Mozartian heritage the old
Glyndebourne had about it further playing
into the bargain.
The forms employed
are more Mozart-indebted than might
initially be realised - secco or accompagnato
recitatives, solos, duets, trios, interludes
– even the telling of a moral story
that has parallels with Don Giovanni:
both deal with man’s downfall. But Stravinsky’s
music is original, rather than mere
pastiche. So too is the plot itself,
cunningly engineered by the composer,
Aldous Huxley and Chester Kallman to
end up at a staged depiction of Hogarth’s
Bedlam, perhaps the most famous
engraving in The Rake’s Progress
(1732/33), which Stravinsky saw
in Chicago.
Having recently re-read
John Jolliffe’s excellent Glyndebourne:
An Operatic Miracle (Pub. John Murray),
I was aware that Hockney’s influence
upon the production was more than that
of a mere designer. John Cox, the director,
even commented afterwards on Hockney’s
definite views about the performances.
One contemporary critic opined that
the design had ‘completely absorb[ed]
the music, producing a true marriage
of the arts’. Watching the production
now it is nigh impossible to disagree.
What is apparent is
the clarity of line in all senses. Visually,
Hockney’s employment of hatched lines
on a white ground not only recalls in
spirit the engraving process, but emphasises
the essential elements of his conception,
which in itself owes much to historical
accuracy for the Bedlam scene particularly.
Although the designs are Hockney’s the
precise point where they depart from
Hogarth’s influence can at times be
hard to identify; they demonstrate Hockney’s
life-long interest in earlier English
art.
Musical line plays
its part too. As other DVDs have demonstrated
(such as the Don Giovanni from
two years later – see review),
Haitink had still to grasp the full
depth of Mozart; but his understanding
was such that he brings forth the impulses
to Stravinsky’s writing. The conducting,
like much of Haitink’s early work, appears
lacking in emotional emphasis, but this
serves to increase the work’s power.
Orchestra and chorus show commitment
and often refinement too, taking 1970s
TV sound recording into account.
Many will buy the DVD
for the singers alone, and this is a
justifiable reason. Felicity Lott’s
portrayal of Anne was loved at the time,
and is well preserved here. But Flott
in Stravinsky, some might think? Recall
that Elizabeth Schwarzkopf created the
role at La Fenice - great Straussian
lyricists both of them – and both negotiate
the spiky contours of vocal line with
honour. And to look at Flott you know
Tom Rakewell must be mad – how could
any sane man turn her away? Richard
Van Allen, as Trulove, manages the role
valiantly, though its confines are rather
tight given his abilities.
Perusing the Don
Giovanni review, you might think
my comments about Leo Goeke to be predictable
here. To an extent, yes; but in one
crucial respect I find him a compelling
advocate. The voice is lean and reasonably
evenly produced, though I still find
his acting a little lacking early on.
But he comes into his own in the Bedlam
scene, with nothing but the delusional
belief he is Adonis for company. His
tanned wide-jawed all-American looks
may to many appear godly – a mask the
delusion just manages to crack.
Rosalind Elias’s bearded
Baba the Turk is probably not the most
extreme interpretation available, but
she carries all before her with facial
gestures and an exploration of the voice
that shows wit and intelligent characterisation
at work. There is a marked contrast
to the other singers’ purity of production,
which is of requisite suitability.
What to say of Sam
Ramey’s Nick Shadow, the devil incarnate,
a concept believed in by Stravinsky
all his life? The devil comes in a kindly
shape for sure, sly, brooding and menacing
even with a single glance. The smile
sends shivers down the spine. Then the
voice, whose richness and suppleness
might beguile anyone to accept imminent
ruin with the cavalier ease of a Tom
Rakewell. This is as strongly acted
a Stravinskian protagonist as one could
wish for, Perhaps some on CD get a shade
more from the text, but as a live performance
this is hard to beat.
An entirely self-recommending
classic that’s not to be missed, whether
you want the cerebral pleasures of tracing
artistic influences or simply a cracking
all-round operatic experience.
Evan Dickerson
Glyndebourne Chorus and London Philharmonic
Orchestra/Bernard Haitink 
ARTHAUS
MUSIK 101 093 [146:00] 
