Arthaus have here gathered together a set of performances from
their Wiener Staatsoper Live series using Plácido Domingo
as their unifying link. These performances are fantastic in
their own way but while the great tenor is a fundamental part
in the success of each, the conductors are often more of a reason
to acquire them.
This 1978 Carmen became legendary due to the involvement
of Carlos Kleiber. This elusive conductor was notoriously reluctant
to have his performances set down on record, let alone broadcast
on television. His permission to release this one on DVD came
only a few weeks before his death in 2004. We should all be
grateful that he gave it, however, as he is the best thing about
this performance. Over and over again he stamps his authority
on the music, apparent from the very opening when the prelude
explodes into life before the audience applause has fully stopped.
His facial expressions reflect his intense involvement in the
drama, as do his gestures. Note the forceful way he accentuates
the bass pizzicati in the “fate” section of the prelude.
Zeffirelli, who directed the TV cameras as well as the stage
action, seems to appreciate Kleiber’s importance as, at various
points, the camera is trained on the conductor rather than the
stage. This might be distracting elsewhere but here works rather
well, though it’s only tried a few times. The singers are good,
though mostly not outstanding. Yuri Mazurok sounds embarrassingly
over-parted as Escamillo and the quintet of gypsies in Act 2
seem to lack polish. Obraztsova has the perfect voice for Carmen,
deep and chesty, sounding sultry and dangerous and, helpfully,
with an entirely different vocal colour to anyone else on stage.
However, she doesn’t act well and this detracts from the overall
effect. Isobel Buchanan, on the other hand, is very moving as
Micaela, singing with a purity of tone that mirrors the character’s
innocence. Domingo himself is the standout among the singers.
His golden tone is quite right for the Mediterranean setting,
but he plays Don José not as a love-struck innocent but as a
powerful lover whose passion for Carmen has unhinged him and
made him dangerous. There is a look of menace in his eyes from
Act 2 onwards, even in the Flower Song which sounds marvellous
but also carries an undercurrent of danger. Zeffirelli’s typically
traditional production is too often a distraction rather than
a help and it is not as successful as his gargantuan but more
disciplined staging for the Met on DG. Acts 2 and 4, in particular,
suffer from over-population so that the eye is too often distracted
by something going on at the edge of the screen. Furthermore,
Zeffirelli doesn’t always know where to point his camera so
that too often the viewer’s perception is muddied and confused.
It says a lot that the most successful scene, for me, was the
card trio where the camera stays focused only on Carmen herself
for most of her monologue. This opera seems to have been one
of the earliest ORF recordings to have been relayed live on
television, or so the booklet note suggests. That’s rather apparent
in some tell-tale signs, such as a (far too obvious) microphone
above the stage and, more seriously, rather boxy, unflattering
sound which favours the orchestra so much that there are times
when the singers are barely audible. However, the sense of a
great occasion is really palpable, not least when the applause
comes and the incredibly appreciative audience simply refuses
to stop clapping! There are many finer Carmens on DVD
but Kleiber’s and Domingo’s contributions make this one irreplaceable.
This Trovatore is also the stuff of legend where, for
once, Caruso’s quip about the four best singers in the world
might almost have been true. Domingo stepped into this production
only at the very last minute after the withdrawal of Franco
Bonisolli. He only sang two performances in the run and, as
the booklet essay outlines, a lot of rescheduling had to be
done with ORF and Eurovision to ensure that it was one of his
performances that was broadcast. This performance captures him
at this absolute peak, full-blooded and exciting as well as
ardently lyrical. His off-stage song and explosive entry in
Act 1 make the pulse quicken with excitement and he gives one
of the finest performances of Ah sě, ben mio that I have
ever heard, even compared to his other CD recordings. Moving
straight from the soaring lyrical curve of this aria into the
full-throated excitement of Di quella pira is absolutely
thrilling and shows the great tenor at his Italianate best.
However, this never turns into the Domingo show: he is surrounded
by great colleagues, all of whom are inspired to give of their
best. Fiorenza Cossotto has done nothing finer on disc than
this Azucena. Her identification with the character is thrilling,
much deeper and more convincing than her 1970 RCA recording
with Mehta. She uses the full breadth of her vocal range to
exhilarating effect and her performance gains a hundredfold
by seeing as well as hearing her: she sings Stride la vampa
as if hypnotised with horror and her memories of burning her
child are hair-raising. Some may criticise her for hysteria
or over-acting, but no-one should come to Trovatore looking
for gritty naturalism: Cossotto understands that this is a blood-and-thunder
melodrama and she revels in this atmosphere. Her scenes with
Domingo by themselves would justify this set’s place in the
collection of any Verdian. Cappuccilli is at his lyrical best
here. His Count is a complex creature, brooding and malevolent
in Act 3 but transfigured with love in Act 2. Il balen
sounds fantastic here, and is more disciplined than in Cappuccilli’s
studio recording with Karajan on EMI. Even in the most driven
sections of Act 4 he never loses the innate beauty of both the
music and his voice, making this a performance to treasure.
Kabaivanska is perhaps not quite as assured as the others, sometimes
pitching below the note and lacking the final edge of security,
but she still has all the equipment for the role and she anchors
the Act 2 ensemble very successfully. Karajan made a rare return
to Vienna to conduct his own very traditional production of
the opera and does a spectacular job. His pacing and control
always feel just right and you can forgive him the occasional
cut in the score. The orchestra and chorus perform for him at
their very best and the audience response is rapturous at every
turn. In short, if there is a finer Trovatore on film
then I have not seen it.
We often think that Domingo moved towards Wagner late in his
career, but the booklet notes remind us that he first sang Lohengrin
in Hamburg in 1968 when he was only 27. While he has sung most
of Wagner’s heroes since – Siegmund, Walther and Parsifal on
stage; Erik, Tannhäuser, Tristan and excerpts from Siegfried
on disc – Lohengrin remains the role must suited to his voice.
This 1990 production caught him at the summit of his Wagnerian
powers. The role suits him so well because the lyrical curve
of the writing suits the golden hue of his voice magnificently.
When he first arrives in Act 1 the burnished gold of his voice
is like a spotlight shining into the dark, bass-heavy world
of the opera so far, something accentuated in the subdued, murky
colours of this production. He glows like a light in the darkness
in all the musical textures Wagner gives to his hero, leavening
the great ensembles at the end of Acts 1 and 2. The whole interpretation
builds to a momentous account of the grail narration in Act
3. He sings with extraordinary beauty throughout, and if he
sounds a little pressed at times then he uses this to his advantage.
Every top note underscores the character’s other-ness in this
environment. He sounds more mature, more comfortable with the
role here than he did with Solti on his VPO recording of 1986,
though that recording remains very special. He is surrounded
here by an excellent cast of singers. Cheryl Studer could sound
under strain in Wagner, but not here. Like Domingo, she was
in her prime when this was recorded, singing with radiant beauty.
There is an utterly secure core to her voice, allowing her to
sail upwards with steadfast confidence. She is vulnerable and
touching in her Act 1 vision, and she shades things wonderfully
in the Bridal Chamber scene, turning the screw with each phrase
as she gets closer to the dénouement. However, her address to
the breezes in Act 2 is where she is at her best, beautiful
in its innocence and charmingly naďve in the light of what is
about to come. Dunja Vejzovic’s star burned bright and brief,
but she was past her best when she sang here. The voice, which
always sounded a little fragile, then sounded pinched and under
strain, meaning that the listener can never relax into the big
moments like Entweihte Götter. She sounds much better
on Karajan’s EMI recording, made a decade previously, and which
I still love, despite the bad press it has received. Hartmut
Welker is a commanding yet humane Telramund, and Robert Lloyd’s
King sings with imposing authority throughout. However, the
stars of the show are the conductor and his orchestra. Abbado,
a dramatist to his fingertips, paces the unfolding drama brilliantly,
something of paramount importance in this opera which, in the
wrong hands, can feel trapped in meditational slowness. He unwinds
it like a carefully coiled spring, nowhere more impressively
than in the opening scene of Act 2 where the sense of growing
evil and impending doom is electrifying. The VPO has an unrivalled
pedigree in this work and, as with Kempe
thirty years previously, it is the strings that so often steal
the show, surrounding the spiritual moments with a shimmering
aura but also capable of building the tension of palpable evil
when required. Weber’s production is ultra-traditional, which
is in its own way quite refreshing when considered alongside
much of what is on offer elsewhere. The stage is uncluttered
- unlike Levine’s equally traditional but scenically overburdened
staging from the Met on DG - adding to the air of grandeur.
The swan is dealt with subtly yet convincingly. In fact, if
you want a traditional Lohengrin on DVD then this would
probably be your first choice. The only drawback is the quality
of the sound: tinny and restricted in a way that jars at times.
It’s also a pity that it’s only in 2-channel stereo rather than
5.1 or DTS - a real shame considering the quality of surround
sound available on other opera DVDs of the period. Still, this
remains an essential document to set alongside the likes of
Levine on DG and Richard
Jones’ more radical contemporary realisation on Decca which
boasts the magnificent Jonas Kaufmann as the Swan Knight.
So while Domingo may be the unifying force for these three performances,
he is in every case only one aspect of a highly successful performance.
Arthaus has done us a favour by releasing these three DVDs together
as they provide a very affordable way of obtaining three highly
collectable performances. There are plenty of great things here
and, when the whole set retails at around Ł30, you can easily
afford to treat yourself.
Simon Thompson
ARTHAUS MUSIK 
107505 [4 DVDs: 524:00] 
