The British mezzo of
her age in a repertoire whose statuesque
qualities were inherently suited to
her rock-steady, emotionally engaged
yet regal style of delivery. In might
be thought sufficient to note that the
record is available again and exhort
readers to buy it.
And yet, thirty years
on, something needs to be added. I shall
merely comment in passing that this
is a midway style of Gluck interpretation
between the old, post-Wagnerian style
(to which Riccardo Muti remains faithful
to this day) and the "authentic" manner
that opts for original instruments and
pungent textures, and would have several
of these arias sung by a male alto anyway.
The interpretation offered by Raymond
Leppard of "Divinités du Styx",
bouncy in detail while broad in outline,
is memorable and also allows the singer
to express the aria with refulgent tone
and a sense of controlled, interior
passion. Mackerras’s conducting of the
same aria during Dame Janet’s farewell
season in 1981 (issued by Ponto, see
review)
is more conventionally urgent but paradoxically
more anonymous in feeling.
For the larger part
of this programme Dame Janet’s gleaming
upper register and rock-steady emission,
culminating in some glorious top B flats
in "Divinités", seem the ideal
expression of her own emotional commitment
to the music. Expression is not applied,
it is not made by the voice,
it is the voice. Undoubtedly
it was this perfect marriage between
vocal and expressive means which led
to her adulation by the British public.
However, it must be noted that, rather
surprisingly for a singer who began
as a contralto, a patch of her lower
register – approximately from the F
above middle C to the B above that –
has a surprising lack of quality, almost
a neutral sound. The notes are there,
but they do not tell us anything. This
is particularly noticeable in the "Paride
ed Elena" extracts which frequently
contrast phrases just above this area
– which have a fine quality – with phrases
well in it, which sound almost threadbare.
In "Oh, del mio dolce ardor" (not "ardour"
as printed in the booklet) she seems
to be attempting to recapture a contralto
sheen and at one point almost succeeds.
Lower down still things are better,
though this is not the part of her voice
which speaks most powerfully. This seems
to derive from a deliberate policy not
to over-indulge her chest register;
a refusal, for example, to resolve the
"ministres de la mort" in "Divinités"
with a conventional blast of chest tone.
This may have been reasonable enough
while she was still a contralto, since
these notes are not particularly low
for a contralto; mezzos, let alone sopranos,
normally find they have to strengthen
their timbre with a dose of chest tone
to be heard down there. And since this
particular aria is too high to be attempted
by a contralto, nor even by all mezzos,
the "conventional" solution is presumably
the one Gluck had in mind. In the 1981
performance this lower area seems stronger
(even if the refulgence it had when
she recorded "Sea Pictures" at the beginning
of her career while still a contralto
has gone), but the top B flats verge
on the squally.
It would appear, then,
that her move from contralto to mezzo
involved both losses and gains. She
gained that splendidly shining upper
register and was able to appear memorably
in a number of operatic roles which
a contralto could never attempt. She
shed the image of the "British oratorio
contralto". But the pristine quality
of her original contralto register appears
to have been lost. This disc closes
with a vigorously forward-moving performance
of "Che farò senza Euridice"
[would those responsible for the booklet
please note that by omitting that accent
from "farò", they have changed
the meaning from "What shall I do without
Euridice?" into "What a lighthouse without
Euridice"] which seems a deliberate
repudiation of the Ferrier tradition.
It is also, strangely, sung in D major.
I have always seen it printed in C and
the recent reissue of a performance
by Julia Hamari which scrupulously followed
the original Vienna version had it in
that key. Curiously, two historical
performances, the Thorborg/Leinsdorf
and the Barbieri/Furtwängler, if
transferred at the correct pitch, are
in D flat. C is a real contralto key
– Gluck actually had a male alto in
mind – and it is understandable that
a mezzo would find it easier to give
her all to the climax in a slightly
higher key. But did Dame Janet have
it transposed for performances of the
complete opera, and if so, what happened
to the music on either side of it?
Queries apart, this
is in general a thrillingly sung recital
of music which, apart from the two arias
on which I have concentrated, is not
particularly well-known. Especially
beautiful is "Adieu, conservez dans
votre âme" from "Iphigénie
en Aulide"; the arias from Gluck’s last
comic opera "La Rencontre Imprévue"
are flimsier and might have been enjoyed
more if heard earlier in the programme
instead of after the sublime "Divinités
du Styx".
Some readers may think
that my slight reservations are ungenerous
towards an untouchable British icon.
They may be interested to read part
of the review in the EMG Monthly Letter
of October 1976. Stand by for the blast!
"… One might suppose
that Gluck’s lofty idealism would call
forth a response in one of like integrity,
but such is not often the case in this
recital. Instead of the subtle inflections,
the variety of tone colour, the changing
emphasis in word-painting, we are given
first-rate vocalization and some vivid
contrasts of dynamics. Where, though,
is the characterization essential to
the realization of Gluck’s compelling
dramatic genius? There is little to
distinguish the despair of the deserted
Armide from the noble self-sacrifice
of Alceste. Where is the rapt wonder
of Orpheus in the Elysian Fields, turning
to sorrow when he mentions his lost
bride? Who could believe, finely though
it is sung, that the singer of Che
farò is the same Orpheus
now heartbroken at his second loss?
… the whole thing is an example of the
non-event devised purely as a recording,
remote from any valid musical experience
for the performers, or inevitably for
the listener …".
We may wonder today
if the anonymous reviewer (EMG had a
roster of distinguished musicologists
many of whom were writing out of contract,
hence the anonymity) was hankering after
the "old" style of interpretation which
treated Gluck as a 19th century
composer, or was looking forward to
the "authentic" rediscovery of the classical
style then in its infancy? As I said
at the beginning, this is a midway style
of interpretation and the disc is likely
to appeal more to Dame Janet’s numerous
fans rather than those in search of
Gluck.
I also learn from the
EMG review that the original issue had
texts and translations (no such luck
today!) and that "the whole approach
is typified by the fact that no information
is provided as to the context of each
‘number’ – not even the name of the
character concerned!". The present issue
has a note by Nicholas Anderson which
matches that description entirely –
presumably a reprint of the original.
Christopher Howell
Dame Janet Baker (mezzo) 
