RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Béla BARTÓK (1881-1945)
Duke Bluebeard’s Castle, Op. 11 (1911) [55:27]
Bluebeard - Laszló Polgár (bass)
Judit - Ildikó Komlósi (mezzo)
Budapest Festival Orchestra/Iván Fischer
rec. 16-19 August 2002, Italian Institute, Budapest
Text and English translation provided
CHANNEL CLASSICS 
CCSSA90311
[55:27] 
Bartók’s only opera was inspired by a story by his colleague and friend, Béla
Balázs. The work was composed in 1911, but the composer returned to it, subjecting
it to many small revisions, several times over the following years.
Bluebeard returns to his castle with his new bride, Judit. Though entranced
by her new home, she finds it cold and forbidding: her love, she says, will
warm and transform it. A high-pitched, piercing motif, tells us that things
will probably not be so simple. She is confronted by seven locked doors, and
though her husband tells her they must remain shut, her repeated avowals of
love persuade him to open them. The first reveals a room full of instruments
of hideous torture, the second, a monstrous armoury. The third opens onto
fabulous treasures, the fourth into a light-filled, glorious garden; and the
fifth, the final door that Bluebeard seems willing to open, reveals the vastness
of his kingdom. The piercing motif accompanies each of these vistas, and we
realise that it represents the blood that Judit perceives everywhere, even
on the sunlit petals of the flowers. Still she insists, and the sixth door
is opened to reveal a lake of tears. Unable now to stop, and convinced that
Bluebeard has murdered his previous wives and concealed them behind the seventh
and final door, she convinces him to open it. One by one, his three previous
wives file out, apparently alive, yet lifeless, mute, in some way immortal,
beautiful and bedecked in the finest clothes and jewels. Bluebeard sadly instructs
Judit to take her place amongst them, and as the four return into the seventh
room, the opera closes.
This is an early work and the musical language, less chromatic and dissonant
than much of the composer’s music, is heavily influenced by Hungarian folk
song. Both dramatically and musically it is a masterpiece. The composer, by
way of his brilliant aural imagination, found just the right music to represent
what Judit sees as she opens each door. The torture chamber will already have
your flesh creeping, particularly so in this performance which features a
very rare keyboard xylophone, perhaps even the very instrument for which the
composer conceived the music. The most spectacular moment occurs as the fifth
door is opened, when a series of fully scored parallel chords, fortissimo,
evoke the immense panorama of Bluebeard’s domain. But before that we have
had the warmth of the garden, and following it the icy coldness of the lake
of tears – Judit clearly knows what it is before Bluebeard names it – and
all evoked by perhaps the most colourful orchestration anywhere in Bartók’s
output.
This is not a new performance: previously available on the Philips label,
it now takes its place under license in Channel Classics’ series of recordings
conducted by Iván Fischer. Long may it remain available! Others have been
more spectacular, Boulez and Solti, for example, but having native Hungarian
singers is huge advantage. Ildikó Komlósi is marvellous as Judit, young, impetuous
and innocent, but it is the Bluebeard of Laszló Polgár that really clinches
the matter. Initially one regrets that his is not a darker voice, but then
it becomes clear that his psychological assumption of the role goes very much
further than that. Acting with his voice he manages to convey all the pain
and regret that his character feels at the seemingly inevitable outcome of
the drama. And no singer I have ever heard in this marvellous work has convinced
me more that Bluebeard truly loves his Judit, in spite of everything that
has passed and is to come.
A spoken introduction, in verse, sets the scene. The first notes of the music
establish the atmosphere of the work, but nonetheless it is crucial that this
introduction be performed, and in the original language. In this case the
speaker is Iván Fischer, as successful at finding the right tone as he is
on the podium with the fabulous Budapest Festival Orchestra. The recording
is outstandingly rich and lifelike, and the booklet contains the full Hungarian
text with English translation, though frustratingly not all the stage directions
are translated. There is also a short introduction by the conductor and an
excellent essay by Kenneth Chalmers, both in English and in French.
Accepted wisdom says that the Decca recording from 1965, with Walter Berry
and Christa Ludwig, conducted by István Kertész, is the classic to have and
to hold. I confess to never having heard this reading, but I am very attached
to Solti, also on Decca, and to an all-Hungarian performance from 1956 on
Hungaroton conducted by János Ferencsik. But I think the very particular view
of Bluebeard as embodied in this marvellous performance makes it my preferred
choice now.
William Hedley
A magnificent performance of Bartók’s masterpiece from all-Hungarian forces
… not to be missed.