Vanessa was
Samuel Barber’s first opera; a second,
Anthony and Cleopatra followed
in 1966. Written for the Metropolitan
Opera, it was premièred there
in 1958 to great acclaim and won for
its composer a Pulitzer Prize for music
that same year. The original Met cast
was a stellar one including Eleanor
Steber in the title role (she learned
the part in a matter of weeks when Sena
Jurinac had to withdraw through illness).
Rosalind Elias was the original Erika;
Regina Resnik created the role of the
Baroness while Nicolai Gedda sang Anatol.
In the pit was the charismatic Dimitri
Mitropoulos. Within a short time after
the première RCA made an original
cast recording. I’m unsure if that is
currently available and it might be
thought that a budget label newcomer
would struggle in comparison with a
recording featuring such a cast.
However, anyone who
already possesses the RCA set should
seriously consider this Naxos version
for two reasons. In the first place
it is a highly successful recording
in its own right. Secondly (and of particular
importance to Barber devotees) the Mitropoulos
recording naturally used the original
four act text. Later, in 1964 Barber
revised the score, making some excisions
and reducing the four acts down to three,
largely by combining the first two acts
of the original version. This is, I
think, the first recording of the revised
score though, surprisingly perhaps,
Naxos don’t advertise the fact.
The libretto was by
Barber’s longtime companion, Gian-Carlo
Menotti, himself, of course, an experienced
opera composer. Menotti based his plot
on one of the Seven Gothic Tales,
a collection of short stories published
in 1934 by Isak Dinesen (one of a number
of pseudonyms adopted by the Danish
writer, Karen Blixen (1886-1962)). This
was Dinesen/Blixen’s first book, written
while she was living in Kenya, a period
of her life that was the inspiration
for her later work, Out of Africa
(1937). Like one of the characters in
the story and in the opera the author
was a baroness herself, born in Rungsten
in Denmark into a well-to-do family.
Her father was an army officer and an
author.
The action takes place
in a country house in an unnamed northern
European country in winter 1905. The
story has the feel of a Chekhov play
about it and perhaps it’s no coincidence
that The Cherry Orchard was one
of Barber’s favourites. The eponymous
heroine (or anti-heroine?) has shut
herself away in the house since her
ill-fated affair with a married man,
Anatol, many years before. For company
she has her elderly mother, the Baroness,
who has not spoken to Vanessa since
the affair, and Vanessa’s young niece,
Erika. Vanessa is waiting for the arrival
of Anatol but when a man arrives it
is not her lover but her lover’s son,
also named Anatol. Vanessa and Anatol
fall in love but not before Anatol has
marked his arrival by seducing Erika.
The girl becomes pregnant by him, a
fact that is carefully concealed from
the audience as well as the rest of
the cast. However, when in Act II the
engagement of Vanessa and Anatol is
announced during a New Year’s Eve party,
Erika is so overwrought that she rushes
off into the winter night, slips and
falls and in so doing miscarries. In
Act III we see the newly-weds set off
to live in Paris, leaving history to
repeat itself as Erika sits down to
"wait" as her mother did,
accompanied only by the Baroness who,
since the miscarriage, has refused to
speak to her.
A truly gothic tale
then and one that is eminently suitable
for operatic treatment. Barber responds
by giving the story the Full Treatment.
As Barbara Heyman writes in her comprehensive
Samuel Barber. The Composer and His
Music (1992): "Vanessa does
epitomize the conventional lyric style
of late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century
Romantic operas; but while its models
derive from Verdi, Puccini and Strauss,
the musical ideas are always on Barber’s
own terms." Though Barber had not
written for the operatic stage before,
he was already a master of vocal writing,
both as a composer of many fine songs
and as a not unaccomplished singer himself.
He was also a fine orchestrator as the
score bears witness on page after page.
I believe Barbara Heyman’s verdict is
absolutely to the point and anyone with
a taste for the operatic masters mentioned
above will find much to savour here.
Though the otherwise
excellent accompanying documentation
doesn’t make this very clear, I think
I am correct in saying that the recorded
performance is based on a stage production
in Boston that was masterminded by Richard
Conrad, who sings the role of the Doctor
here. The only "newcomers"
are presumably the chorus, who have
very little to do, and the orchestra,
which acquits itself admirably. The
fact that the cast had performed the
work together on stage must have been
an advantage for there is a palpable
sense of dramatic frisson about
the proceedings.
The cast is a strong
one. Ellen Chickering sings powerfully
and dramatically yet with a genuine
lyrical impulse also. Her Act I aria
"Do not utter a word, Anatol"
(CD 1, track 6) is an early illustration
of her ability to sing lyrically and
later with dramatic force. Good though
she is throughout, she really comes
into her own in Act II when the dramatic,
emotional and vocal range that Barber
requires her to encompass is great indeed
yet she rises to the challenges splendidly.
In the first scene of Act III, when
Erika has been found in the snow and
brought home Vanessa is tormented and
grief-stricken (she is unaware of the
pregnancy and remains so.) Chickering’s
portrayal is taut and vivid. She has
the necessary reserves of stamina and
power to carry off the role successfully
and hers is a most convincing assumption
of the role.
I’m very slightly less
convinced by Andrea Matthews as Erika.
Make no mistake, she sings very well.
What bothers me just a little bit is
that she sounds older than I imagine
Erika to be. But sample her singing
of "Must the winter come so soon?"
in Act 1 (CD 1, track 4) and I think
you’ll feel that she is a performer
to be reckoned with.
On the other hand Marion
Dry as the haughty old Baroness succeeds
in sounding far older than she clearly
is to judge from the booklet photograph.
She is entirely convincing in her portrayal
of a doughty matriarch. The other, more
substantial character role is that of
the Doctor. Richard Conrad is extremely
successful here. His voice has a slightly
gritty tone which is not unpleasant
and which arguably is highly appropriate
for this role. His tipsy solo "I
should never have been a doctor"
in Act II (CD 2, track 2) is very well
done. Even better is his Act III aria,
"For every love there is a last
farewell" (CD 2, track 16) where
he finds just the right degree of touching
melancholy.
As the caddish Anatol
Ray Bauwens sings ardently and with
the right amount of Italianate ring.
He is especially effective when combining
with Vanessa and the ardour of their
duet in Act II (CD 2, tracks 4 and 5)
would not suffer in comparison to Puccini.
His character may not engage our sympathies
greatly but it’s not meant to. Bauwens
delivers the goods.
So does the orchestra.
This music can scarcely have been familiar
to them but they play with assurance
and appropriate weight of tone. The
very potent opening to Act III (CD 2,
track 7) shows them at their best and
the subsequent Intermezzo between that
act’s two scenes (CD 2, track 14) is
atmospheric and intense. For all of
this conductor Gil Rose must take much
of the credit, of course. He is clearly
the master of the score. He keeps the
drama moving, not allowing any unnecessary
indulgence and his conducting has a
fine dramatic thrust to it. Equally,
he makes the most of the many lyrical,
poetic passages.
On my equipment the
recording sounds excellent. The sound
is full and has plenty of body round
it. The singers are easily heard but
one is not conscious of any artificiality
in the balance. Plenty of orchestral
detail comes through.
The documentation would
put many other labels to shame. There
are biographies (and photos) of all
the principals. There’s a very useful,
comprehensive essay about the score
from Richard Conrad. Best of all, there’s
a very good synopsis of the plot which
incorporates cueing points for all the
separate tracks (37 in all across the
two CDs). All of this is in English
and German but the libretto itself is
in English only. There are a few very
minor discrepancies between the printed
libretto and what is actually sung but
these are of no matter.
I rejoice that such
a significant opera by a composer whose
music I greatly admire has been done
proud by this release. As I said at
the start, even if you already have
the Mitropoulos recording there are
excellent artistic and textual reasons
for acquiring this set as well. It’s
a very fine achievement and Naxos deserve
our thanks for bringing this distinguished
recording into the catalogue.
Urgently recommended.
John Quinn
Ukrainian National Capella "Dumka"
