Last year I reviewed a DVD of this Glyndebourne production,
originally staged in 2003 by Nikolaus Lehnhoff, reissued as part of Opus
Arte’s mammoth
Wagner Edition. This set of CDs features an
entirely new set of performers from that earlier Glyndebourne version.
Unfortunately it also retains one feature of the original issue about which
I complained bitterly: the dreadful cut in the opening section of the Love
Duet in Act Two. To save readers having to plough through the whole of my
extremely lengthy previous review, I will repeat here what I said on that
occasion: “The dichotomy between darkness and night, of which Wagner
makes so much in the text, is rendered totally nonsensical because of the
cut that is made in the first half of the duet. Now this cut was standard
practice in many theatres until the 1960s (it helped the two leading singers
to keep their voices fresh) but it has since become discredited, and quite
rightly so. The discussion between the two lovers - how the daylight blinded
them to their mutual attraction, and how their love could only blossom in
the world of night - is central to the whole of the plot as it develops:
their reference to the realm of night as a consummation devoutly to be
wished, and Tristan’s continual agonies in the realm of light in the
Third Act.”
At the time of the earlier review I expressed amazement than
producer Nikolaus Lehnhoff and conductor Jiri Bĕlohlávek had
allowed the cut to be made. I am even more astonished that it should have
continued to be perpetrated when this recording was made by Vladimir
Jurowski six years later. The booklet note quotes a review from the
Sunday Telegraph of the stage production where the unattributed
critic states that Jurowski “shaped the Act II Love Duet as a
beautiful arc.” Well, it is easier to obtain such an arc (I suppose)
when ten minutes of music or so has been cut; but it is extraordinary that
the critic concerned should have overlooked the fact of the truncation when
making his comments.
The cut does have the dubious advantage of allowing each of the
three Acts to be contained complete on a single CD, although this may also
be due to Jurowski’s sometimes eccentrically fast speeds. Actually he
indulges himself in extremes of speed throughout, both faster and slower
than usual. This has the unexpected side-effect of making the faster
passages seem faster than ever and sometimes seems to leave both singers and
players sounding positively breathless with some of the string playing
decidedly hustled. It is exciting, but it is unconventional. The durations
of each Act are indeed very close to those of Karl Böhm’s
controversial Bayreuth performances, and a mile removed from Leonard
Bernstein’s or Reginald Goodall’s approaches. Jurowski makes
some rather odd choices: when the music of the
Liebestod makes its
initial appearance in the Love Duet (CD 2, track 8), it is taken very
slowly, only to speed up after a few bars - a procedure for which I can find
no justification in the score. When the music returns at the end (CD 3,
track 11) Jurowski finds a different solution, which could be viewed as a
valid response to the changed dramatic situation - the
Liebestod is,
after all, the consummation of the Love Duet, not an imitation of it. On the
other hand, passages such as the flute arpeggios which illustrate
Tristan’s vision of the fluttering flag on Isolde’s approaching
ship, which Cecil Forsyth cites so approvingly in his
Orchestration
but which are almost invariably covered by the rest of the orchestra in
other performances, come through loud and clear in a manner which makes
Forsyth’s enthusiasm entirely understandable (CD 3, track 5, 11.00).
Comparison of the singing with the earlier Glyndebourne recording is
a matter of swings and roundabouts. On the DVD Nina Stemme produced an
Isolde both heroic and womanly, a beautifully judged lyrical performance
which still managed to raise the roof at climaxes. Here Anja Kampe is more
purely lyrical, and passages such as the end of the Narration clearly tax
her to the limit especially at Jurowski’s swift speed. In the Second
Act she sounds more fully inside the role, and she tackles her high Cs at
the beginning of the Love Duet fearlessly. Just before this point, however,
her instruction to Brangaene to keep watch lacks a sense of command - she
might almost be asking her to check whether the napkins are properly folded
- which goes against the imperious nature of Wagner’s lines (CD 2,
track 2, 12.56). Some Isoldes can sound tired by the time of their return at
the end of the last Act, but there is no evidence of that here.
Torsten Ralf here is a more conventionally tenor Tristan than the
baritonal-sounding Robert Gambill in the original production. His voice is
also slightly under-powered at climaxes - notably just before the lovers
drink the supposed poison - but nevertheless manages to cut through the
turbulent orchestration. During the Love Duet, the low-lying passage
“O sink hernieder” finds him rather more baritonal in sound,
with a tendency to sit on the flat side of the note which becomes really
worrying in the later section beginning “Unsrer Liebe?” where
his tuning becomes very suspect indeed. For some reason he is much surer in
intonation in the Third Act; were the recordings taken from different
performances?. He rises to his hysterical outpourings with real involvement
and dramatic fire. Nor does he lack lyricism in his contemplative “Wie
so selig” (CD 3, track 7).
Sarah Connolly is a superb Brangaene, as one would expect, not at
all overpowered by the Wagnerian orchestra. It is a shame that her big solo
from the watchtower in the Second Act is phrased with such delicacy that it
is sometimes almost inaudible from offstage; this despite the diaphanous
playing of the orchestra - CD 2, track 5. Andrzej Dobber as Kurwenal sounds
very young by the side of his master in Act One, and his responses to the
Shepherd at the beginning of Act Three are rather matter-of-fact. One misses
the inwardness of singers such as Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau or Eberhard
Waechter here. In a line like “Schreckliche Zauber!” he resorts
to a sort of Bayreuth bark which disturbs the musical line (CD 3, track 6,
11.03).
George Zeppenfeld is a tower of strength as the betrayed King, with
a real richness of tone and beautiful sound. This is immeasurably superior
singing to his King Henry in the Bayreuth
Lohengrin three years
later, where one suspects he may have been suffering from the appalling
characterisation imposed on him by the producer. It is not unknown for the
part of Melot to be taken by a baritone - Bernd Weikl did it for
Karajan’s later recording - but Wagner did specify the part for a
tenor. It has become almost a custom for this small role to be assigned to
an up-and-coming
heldentenor as a vehicle on which to cut his teeth.
Trevor Scheunemann certainly sounds very baritonal indeed. It is hard to
believe that the role could not have been more appropriately cast. The
smaller roles - Shepherd, Steersman and Young Sailor are well taken,
although again the unaccompanied solo for the latter from offstage discloses
some slightly suspect tuning. Andrew Kennedy doesn’t really get the
ultimate sense of desolation which can be wrung out of a line like
“Öd und leer das Meer” (CD 3, track 3, 3.01).
The audience is very well-behaved indeed. There is one unfortunate
cough during the passage where Isolde and Brangaene are discussing the
merits of their relative potions during Act One, but none of the hacking
that interrupted Böhm’s live Bayreuth performance which I
reviewed recently. The applause at the end of each Act is edited down to a
sensible half a minute or so; oddly enough the DVD recording of the original
cast cut out the applause altogether. The recorded balance is generally very
good, with the singers only occasionally caught off-mike. The orchestra
comes through well with plenty of detail audible. The production, like many
of these new Glyndebourne sets, is handsomely packaged with plenty of
photographs, text and English translation. There are synopses in English,
French and German. I am afraid that the miscellaneous drawbacks noted in
this review can hardly lead to an endorsement for this set over the many
excellent recordings in the current catalogue except for those who want a
souvenir of the Glyndebourne performances or these particular singers. One
would certainly have enjoyed this performance immensely in the opera house,
but for home listening without the benefit of the stage presence one might
look elsewhere.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
Masterwork Index:
Tristan
und
Isolde
