Nikolaus Harnoncourt has made a remarkable journey through great
parts of European music history. He began as one of the pioneers
of period performances of central German baroque repertoire half
a century ago. Step by step he expanded his scope backwards (his
Monteverdi operas were milestones) and forwards, encompassing
Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven. Often controversial in his approach
his readings have nevertheless been refreshing in their individuality.
No one can accuse him of ever being dull or streamlined. His
Beethoven symphony cycle still stands out as one of the most
consistently epoch-making. From there the early romantic era
was close enough (Weber, Schumann) but it still came as a surprise
when he appeared as conductor of the New Year’s Day concerts
in Vienna in 2001 and 2003. Long before that he had devoted himself
to the Viennese operetta repertoire - quite successfully too.
Even more intriguing was his decision to record Verdi’s
Aida.
This didn’t meet with wholehearted enthusiasm in all camps.
This was however a trifling departure from his main road, however
winding, compared to his latest by-road: Gershwin’s
Porgy
and Bess.
Harnoncourt has been familiar with at least some of the songs
from this opera since the music was new. His father used to play
them on the piano and sing. But he ‘definitely didn’t
use to be a particular expert on
Porgy and Bess’,
as he says in an interview printed in the accompanying book to
this set. His first intention was to ‘play the work in
its entirety, just as Gershwin composed it’. That was what
Lorin Maazel did in his famous recording from the 1970s. Reading
some articles about the work and its first performance he arrived
at the conclusion that Gershwin never intended it to be performed
that way. It would be too long and dramatically unwieldy. On
the other hand the version that the original conductor Alexander
Smallens after some time concocted was heavily reduced and re-orchestrated,
bringing the work closer to the traditional musical. That was
the version that after the war became the norm. It can be heard
in a live recording from Berlin 1952 with Smallens conducting
and with a young Leontyne Price as Bess, partnered by William
Warfield (see
review).
Harnoncourt has tried to find a middle road: ‘the opera
as the librettist, the composer and the producer worked it out
in 1935 [which] makes the most convincing impression …’
Pragmatist that he is, Harnoncourt has rethought and modified
the decisions of the production team 75 years ago. There are
cuts in the published score but there are also some additions,
only found in Gershwin’s manuscript, most notably at the
opening of the last scene in act III a
Symphony of Noise (CD
3, tr. 7) an evocative and atmospheric piece for sundry percussion
instruments, illustrating ‘the sounds of the waking day’.
Whether Gershwin would have approved is irrelevant; the vital
point is: does it work as a performing version? I think it does,
and success with any production of
Porgy and Bess - or
really any opera - is dependent more on the quality of the performance
than what version is used. I can agree with Harnoncourt that
Smallens’s version may lack the dimension that may have
been Gershwin’s principal aim: to write a true grand opera,
but so infectious and committed is the singing - and playing
- that one can’t help being deeply involved, in spite of
the partly relatively primitive sound.
So what about former baroque specialist Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s
credentials as an interpreter of American music? Gershwin’s
opera is not exactly a jazz opera but the rhythmic elements are
essential. Well, rhythms are essential in baroque music as well
and precision and acuity have always been two of his hallmarks.
And the quotation in the booklet that he has brought swing back
into classical music seems rather appropriate. There is nothing
of the foursquare ‘warrant officer jazz’, as it is
sometimes labelled when sight-reading conservatory-trained musicians
try to make music swing. The orchestral introduction has the
right rhythmic swagger - though Jazzbo Brown’s piano solo
is rather stale - and he very aptly uncovers the many subtle
intricacies of Gershwin’s marvellous score. Harnoncourt
has sometimes been castigated for eccentric choices of tempo
but in this case I see no reason to have deviant opinions. The
playing of the Chamber Orchestra of Europe is also in this repertoire
beyond reproach. They are plainly magnificent.
We have become used to the high standards of the Arnold Schönberg
Chor, and no one is likely to find any faults in intonation,
precision or tonal beauty. The problem is that it is the wrong
kind of tonal beauty. Where the chorus in Berlin 1952 oozes raw
energy, ecstasy and uninhibited joy or sorrow this choir is neat
and refined. These are the two adjectives least appropriate for
the people of Catfish Row. I am afraid this is a major drawback.
The solo singing is variable. The distaff side is generally more
successful. Bibiana Nwobilo, the first voice we hear, sings Clara’s
Summertime beautifully
and with blues feeling. Angela Renée Simpson is a good
Serena and is especially impressive in
Shame on all you, sinners (CD
2, tr. 7). As Maria we hear Roberta Alexander, who at 60 is remarkably
unscathed by the passing years. Isabelle Kabatu is a vocally
and dramatically convincing Bess and the scene with Crown (CD
2 trs. 7-8) is immensely intense. There is also a good Strawberry
Woman, not credited in the cast list.
When Jonathan Lemalu’s debut record was released 2002 it
was greeted with almost universal acclaim and he seemed set for
a glorious career. I am afraid that what we hear on this recording
indicates a serious decline. His voice has warmth and he imbues
the role with deep understanding and expressivity, but the tone
is wobbly, so much so that it is not always clear what note he
is aiming at. There is still a lot to admire but this is another
serious drawback. Gregg Baker sang Crown for Simon Rattle more
than twenty years ago and still impresses, particularly in
A
redheaded woman (CD 2 tr. 22). Rodney Clark’s Jake
is another wobbler and Michael Forest is oily enough as Sporting
Life but also he lacks a true tonal centre.
For a complete recording Simon Rattle on EMI is still the best
option, though Willard White is rather strained at times (
1988
CD;
1988
CD reissue;
2002
DVD version). He was fresher on the Maazel recording. Those
who are satisfied with a highlights disc can find nothing better
than the early 1960s recording with Leontyne Price and William
Warfield (RCA). On Philips there was a recording (still in the
catalogue I believe) with Simon Estes and Roberta Alexander.
Nikolaus Harnoncourt is always interesting, the
Symphony of
Noise is a fascinating novelty and there are several good
singers. However the shaky Porgy and the bloodless chorus more
or less rule it out.
Göran Forsling