Some fine old names
here. Purists should note immediately
that this is sung in German, as was
the custom at the time. There is less
a gap more a chasm between Italian and
German as sung entities, which makes
the success of this endeavour all the
more pleasantly surprising. If this
does not have the authority of the Naxos
reissue of Tebaldi et al (http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Dec03/Verdi_Aida_Tebaldi.htm
), it nevertheless retains the spirit
of Verdi almost intact.
The orchestra (NDR
Symphony Orchestra) is superbly trained
by Hans Schmidt-Isserstedt. This is
immediately apparent in the perilous
string prelude to Act 1. Some background
noise is in evidence, but it does not
seriously detract and the rise to the
climax is gracefully made.
A pity there are so
many ‘hard’ Germanic consonants in the
opening lines; Ramfis – here Helmut
Fehn, making no apology and sounding
totally at home. Fehn might be best
known to collectors as Nachtigall in
the 1943 Abendroth Bayreuth Meistersinger.
Yet Rosvaenge, the star of this performance,
makes an entirely different impression.
Even though he sings in German, ‘Holde
Aida’ as opposed to ‘Celeste Aida’,
there is a underlay of unmistakably
Italianate lyric flow. The preceding
statements are, vocally, almost as trumpet-like
as the brass that intersperse them.
The Amneris is in the
shape of Eliszbeth Höngen, beautifully
toned and having a lovely way with her
phrases. The scene immediately following
‘Celeste Aida’ is most effective, with
Schmidt-Isserstedt keeping the orchestra
urgent, yet one of her finest moments
comes at the outset of Act 2. Höngen’s
voice is fairly light but supremely
expressive and she is possessed of supreme
legato. Throughout this particular scene,
the lyric impulse is kept alive by Schmidt-Isserstedt’s
alert sensitivity.
Aida herself is ardently
lyrical. Hilde Zadek has a touching
way with her melodic lines. Just a shame
her voice is a little weak in the lower
register. Come Act 4, the final scenes
with Radamès carry great emotive
force. As an added bonus, the two actually
sing in octaves as directed, for a change!
Here in ‘Qui Radames verrà’ (‘Bald
kommt Radames’), Fehn reveals just how
dark his voice can be during Act 3.
Of the other roles, Siemund Roth’s King
is on the weak side (certainly not very
regal); Josef Matternich’s Amonasro
is acceptable if not special in any
way.
Schmidt-Isserstedt
proves to be a convincing exponent of
this work without consistently setting
the pulse racing. All this might perhaps
be expected, but there are some any
impressive moments that it is worth
the outlay here. His chorus is supremely
well-drilled (Chorus Master is uncredited)
and the recording stands up surprisingly
well to the crowd scenes; by the same
token, do not expect digital clarity!
As for the orchestra, try the tip-toe
dance for orchestra (CD1 track 9), where
real pianissimi are in evidence, or
at the other extreme how the orchestra
blazes at the end of Act 4 Scene 1.
At very much lower-medium
price this is more than worth a spin.
It provides a fascinating window onto
a world some of us missed out on. There
is no documentation to speak of, just
a track listing; no timings, but at
least the German is given alongside
the original Italian. A pity the split
between the discs occurs so close to
the end of Act 2. Not all cast-members
are given - the ‘Sacerodotessa’ (High
Priestess) remains a mystery. Do try
it, though.
Colin Clarke
Chorus and Orchestra of North German Radio/Hans
Schmidt-Isserstedt. 