Reviewing what is arguably Bretan’s
masterpiece, the full-length opera
Horia,
I was deeply impressed by the power
of the dramatic writing while at the
same time he retained his very personal
melodic language - truthful, tonal
and expressive - just as in his songs.
I still regard Horia as a landmark
work in the history of opera for its
humanity and struggle for freedom.
Unfortunately it is let down by a
fair amount of less than attractive
singing - though the commitment is
never in question - and the recording
- live from stage performance with
intrusive noises and in monaural sound
only. The present disc, juxtaposing
two one-act operas, is a great improvement.
It is in good stereo, albeit analogue,
made under studio conditions and the
singing is in a different class.
The operas in themselves
are as fascinating as Horia,
but from different points of view.
The theme of humanity is however omnipresent.
In Golem, Rabbi Löw has
created Golem out of clay. When the
opera begins he is worried about Anna,
his grand-daughter, who is dying.
It is only Golem who knows what is
wrong with her. Golem is in love with
Anna, he has touched her and kissed
her and it is sure death for a human
to have any contact with a man of
clay. Golem tells Löw this and
wants Anna as his bride and so demands
from Löw, his creator, the power
to procreate. To save Anna, Löw
has to kill Golem.
What is fascinating
about the opera, which is based on
a drama by Illés Kacér,
is that Golem, who was created by
Löw in defiance of God, is the
most human of the characters. It is
his feelings, his sufferings that
permeate the score and there is a
warmth and a melodic beauty in the
long solos he has to sing. Alexandru
Agache in the title role is superb,
singing with great feeling and impeccable
legato. His is a glorious voice, powerful,
beautiful and youthful. Tamás
Daróczy is an acceptable Rabbi
Löw but Sandra Sandru has her
shrill moments. Dan Zancu, whose black
bass was one of the assets of the
Horia recording, has little
to sing but does it well. The final
trio, after Golem has died, recalls
the finale of Gounod’s Faust
- whether intentionally or not.
Arald also
deals with life and death, but here
we are already in the underworld and
the characters have already passed
away. The Poet tells of Arald who
is searching for the Seer, who has
the power to work miracles. Arald
comes and lays the body of his beloved
Maria at the feet of the Seer, begging
him to bring Maria back to life. The
Seer offers Arald a drink, which transforms
him into a ghost and Maria is restored
to life. They sing an ecstatic love
duet together but as day breaks they
are swallowed by the earth. The Seer,
by death forgot, laments his own eternity.
This is a variant
on the Orpheus myth. As in Golem
Nicolae Bretan wrote his own libretto,
this time based on Mihai Eminescu’s
poem "The Ghost". There
is little drama in the shape of dialogue;
instead the short opera is a sequence
of ’arias’ - all of great beauty -
and the above mentioned duet. The
music has an otherworldly serenity
which doesn’t exclude passion and
dramatic intensity and most of the
singing is on an exalted level. Dan
Zancu’s Poet is noble, Jonel Voineag
as Arald is a splendid lirico spinto
tenor, singing with glow and Alexandru
Agache as the Seer is again superb
as the Seer with a flow of noble melodious
solo singing. Several of the themes
stuck at first hearing and I went
round humming them for hours. Sandra
Sandru is more at ease as Maria than
she was as Anna in Golem and the orchestra
play well under the inspired baton
of Cristian Mandeal.
Readers who felt
dispirited by my review of Horia
- on basis of singing and recording
- need feel no qualms this time. I
do urge everyone with an iota of curiosity
about melodious opera off the beaten
track to try this pair of short operas.
You will be richly rewarded.
Göran
Forsling
Other Bretan reviews
My
Lieder-Land Volume 1
My
Lieder-Land Volume 2 RECORDING
OF THE MONTH (April)
SONGS
Ruxandra Donose (sop)
SONGS
Alexandru Agache (baritone)
Sacred
Songs
Horia
Philharmonic Orchestra Moldova, Iasi/Cristian
Mandeal
