Schreker scored a succès d'estime with 
          his ballet Der Geburtstag der Infantin in 1908. Zemlinsky then 
          approached Schreker for a libretto on the same plot. Schreker became 
          so wrapped up in the emotional tensions associated with physical ugliness 
          obliterating the chances of expressing physical love that the project 
          fell away. Instead Schreker produced Die Gezeichneten. 
        
 
        
The setting is 16th century Genoa. Alviano is the architect 
          of a temple to debauchery where moneyed profligates have orgies with 
          abducted women. Tamare is one of the profligates who desires Carlotta 
          who is a painter and she in turn prefers to catch Alviano's soul in 
          a painting. Tamare is determined to win Carlotta and Carlotta while 
          painting Alviano discloses her love. Betrothed to Alviano, Carlotta 
          repents of her entanglement, now appalled by Alviano's repugnant face. 
          She goes off with Tamare. Alviano having found them in flagrante 
          delicto kills Tamare. Carlotta dies calling on the name of Tamare; 
          Alviano, distraught, collapses into insanity. The large chorus represents 
          nobles, citizens, soldiers, maids, servants, women, maidens, silent 
          children, fauns, naiads and bacchantes. 
        
 
        
The music is utterly gorgeous - jewelled, mystic, silvery, 
          haunted, euphorically climactic in episodes 
          fully worthy of the operas of Korngold, Schoeck (including Massimilla 
          Doni and Schloss Durande) and Strauss. This is voluptuous 
          stuff written in the dazzling hey-day of late-romantic opera with a 
          footing in the twin heritages of Wagner and Puccini. Listen, for example, 
          on CD1 to the surging flowing romance of the Halloh! Vitelozzo (tr. 
          3) or the tenderest of orchestral gestures in Holde Martuccia (tr. 
          5). This is the material which Hollywood was later to mine in light-flooded 
          scores written for the screen romances of the 1940s by Korngold and 
          Waxman. The Verwandlung in Act II Track 9 (CD1) is yet another 
          ultra-romantic and, let's face it, irresistible, affirmation of the 
          passionately tear-stained musical line that Korngold was to purvey in 
          Hollywood (e.g. in the marsh music of Elizabeth and Essex and 
          the great theme from Anthony Adverse). All those who love their 
          Korngold need to add this set to their shelves as soon as possible. 
          Get it now before it disappears. If you remain unconvinced then try 
          listening to CD2 track 6 which is Carlotta's song 'Ah Welche nacht' 
          in which she is joined by the choir which shines at first quietly and 
          later with greater passion in an echo from Delius's A Mass of Life. 
          At the peak moving directly into tr.7 and in Adorno and Carlotta's 
          duet, there is some unsubtle romance-exalted material but overall this 
          is grand opera at its hyper-sentimental apex. Wonderful singing from 
          Becht and Martin but then I did not detect any really weak links in 
          this cast. 
        
 
        
This 1984 performance dates from the first flushed 
          up-rearing of interest in Schreker and Zemlinsky. At this stage Albrecht 
          was busy with many such revivals. Two years previously at the same Salzburg 
          Festival, Albrecht directed a rare revival of Schoeck's Penthesilea. 
          Austrian Radio's engineers made a superb job of this recording which 
          has now been digitally remastered. There is the occasional creak and 
          cough but miraculously few - even in the moments of greatest quiet. 
          Speaking of which, here is an opera which, for all its superheated storms, 
          revels in glimmering Baxian webs of orchestration, fine tintinnabulation 
          and the softest gong impacts. Schreker could not resist ending the work 
          (CD2 tr. 12) with a hideously retching and yawing apostrophe to inimical 
          fate. 
        
 
        
The set is well documented but sadly I cannot provide 
          the registers of all the singers as these details are not listed in 
          the booklet. Only the sung German text is given. There is no English 
          translation. The notes and a very good synopsis are in both German and 
          English. 
        
 
        
There are other recordings of this work of which only 
          one is currently available. The deleted Decca recording (444 442-2(3)) 
          was issued in 1993/94 as part of the now cob-webbed and threadbare ‘Entartete 
          Musik’ series (how about reissuing it at bargain price?); incredible 
          that it should not have been maintained in the catalogue. The Berlin 
          Deutsche SO was conducted by Lothar Zagrosek. There is also a still 
          currently available recording on Marco Polo. 
        
 
        
The opera was premiered at Frankfurt-am-Main on 25 
          April 1918. Its UK premiere came on 31 January 1965 on the Third Programme. 
        
 
        
This set should be on the wish-list of every collector 
          who values their operatic Zemlinsky, Schoeck, Korngold, Pfitzner or 
          Schreker. I am now all the more regretful that I missed Schreker's Irrelohe 
          while it was still available on Sony. 
        
 
        
Rob Barnett
        
 
          THE OPERAS OF FRANZ SCHREKER 
          Der Ferne Klang (1901-3) - Naxos, Capriccio 
          Das Spielwerk (1916) - not recorded 
          Die Gezeichneten (1913-15) - Marco Polo, Decca, 1993-94 
          Der Schatzgräber (1915-18) - Capriccio, 1989 
          Irrelohe (1919-23) - Sony, 1989 
          Christophorus, oder Die Vision einer Oper (1924-5, 1928) - unrecorded 
          
          Der singende Teufel (1924-28) - unrecorded 
          Der Schmied von Gent (1929-32) - unrecorded