www.linnrecords.com 
              
There are some records 
                where you listen so spellbound that 
                comparisons seem beside the point; however 
                good, however different the alternatives, 
                the disc you are hearing can only remain 
                supremely valid. And there are some 
                discs where you start to bring out the 
                comparisons almost from the beginning. 
              
 
              
I’m afraid that, for 
                me, this was one of the latter, even 
                in the opening three linked Heine settings 
                by Bruno Walter where the comparisons 
                were actually with other composers, 
                but I’ll come to that later. 
              
 
              
Emma Bell’s voice seems 
                rich and creamy enough for Strauss, 
                yet doubts begin early. Is there not 
                to much squally vibrato? Does she not 
                revel too much in the easy solution 
                of a Technicolor splurge in Strauss’s 
                upward phrases, at the expense of long-term 
                control? Montserrat Caballé in 
                Freundliche Vision (1964: RCA 
                Red Seal 82876 511912) could be thought 
                almost pedantic in her placing of every 
                syllable and certainly in Schlechtes 
                Wetter she seems almost aggressively 
                concerned to show that a Spanish diva 
                really can sing Lieder. Yet what a securely 
                placed, vibrant but steady voice she 
                had at that stage, rock solid in her 
                final ascent at the end of the latter 
                song. Her Traum durch die Dämmerung 
                is a prima donna’s performance in 
                the best sense, its arching long lines 
                maybe less attentive to the accompaniment 
                below her than in the case of some Lieder 
                specialists, but always leading the 
                ear onwards. Alongside this Bell seems 
                hollow and sketchy. It’s also noticeable 
                how much more forward and vivid is the 
                recording quality on the Caballé 
                disc. Have recording standards, as well 
                as vocal ones, really declined so much 
                in the last forty years? 
              
 
              
With Das Rosenband 
                it was the turn of Teresa Cahill, 
                whose recently reissued 1981/2 Strauss 
                and Rachmaninov performances (Diversions 
                24114) aroused 
                my enthusiasm not long ago. Would 
                they still stand up? Yes, indeed, for 
                here was a voice which, if without the 
                full-organ solidity of Caballé, 
                was nevertheless steadily, evenly produced, 
                with the right sumptuousness for Strauss 
                and a sense of line that leaves Bell 
                standing. Cahill’s record actually contains 
                two performances of this song (for reasons 
                which I explain in my review); though 
                I was trying to be very careful and 
                to listen with a critical ear, in the 
                second of the two performances I was 
                quite overwhelmed as Cahill began the 
                last stanza. This is the sort of tingle 
                factor that Bell just can’t create because 
                she hasn’t the vocal security (at present) 
                to do so. A further five of Bell’s selected 
                songs are also to be found on Cahill’s 
                disc, and they all tell the same story. 
              
 
              
Nachtgang brought 
                a comparison with a singer closer to 
                Bell’s own generation, Katarina Karnéus 
                (EMI CDZ 5 73168 2). Even taking into 
                account the fact that Karnéus 
                is a mezzo, it is quite incredible to 
                what an extent it seems different song, 
                for Karnéus has such a firmer 
                sense of line, so much more sense of 
                the overall shape of the song, which 
                seems to last half the length (though 
                it’s actually 6 seconds longer). But 
                then, Karnéus has a rock-steady 
                voice production on which to build her 
                interpretation. Since she is also finely 
                recorded, it now appears that vocal 
                and recording standards have not necessarily 
                declined over the last forty years after 
                all. Beside either of these three singers, 
                I’m afraid that Bell sounds vague in 
                her intentions, technically unprepared 
                and, frankly, amateurish. 
              
 
              
With so few Marx songs 
                on record, it is a pity that two of 
                Bell’s should duplicate those chosen 
                by Karnéus in her selection of 
                five. Or perhaps it isn’t such a pity, 
                since the comparison shows that we cannot 
                give too much credence to the performances 
                here of the other two. Karnéus’s 
                more thoughtful approach finds quite 
                a lot more in Und gestern hat er 
                mir Rosen gebracht but it is above 
                all in Hat dich die Liebe berührt 
                that Karnéus produces a truly 
                great performance, her heartfelt simplicity 
                and steady build-up towards the climax 
                quite transforming the song. 
              
 
              
Under the circumstances, 
                our judgement of Bruno Walter as a composer 
                must be tentative. Certainly, he dropped 
                composition early on and, unlike Furtwängler 
                and Klemperer, neither returned to it 
                in later life nor attempted to promote 
                any of his works. He would, I suppose, 
                have been flattered when Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau 
                took up the three Eichendorff settings 
                (the group beginning with Des Kindes 
                Schlaf), and if you want to hear 
                Walter the composer in his best light, 
                maybe you should seek out the DF-D recordings, 
                which drift in and out of the catalogue. 
                Walter was undoubtedly a warm-hearted 
                composer with a dab hand at atmospheric 
                accompaniments (he was a very fine pianist 
                as well as a great conductor) and a 
                feeling for soaring vocal phrases which 
                must be lovely to sing. But with regard 
                to this latter, as a "sort of composer" 
                myself, I know how easy it is to launch 
                into ecstatically upward-soaring Straussian 
                phrases when you’re not quite sure what 
                to do next, and how grateful singers 
                can be to you when you do this! With 
                all due respect, I fear Walter is often 
                guilty of these easy solutions, so it 
                is interesting to compare the opening 
                Heine mini-cycle Tragödie with 
                settings of the same poem by Anton Rubinstein 
                and Stanford (the latter is available 
                in a not very satisfactory performance 
                on Hyperion; so far as I know the Rubinstein 
                is unavailable). Both were full-time 
                composers in a way Walter wasn’t and 
                both were classicists who rejected the 
                easy solution, and this shows in the 
                clear-cut nature of their themes and 
                the economy of their workmanship which 
                enables each song to unfold before the 
                public with a precise form. They were 
                variably inspired, it is true, but Stanford’s 
                surging opening (echoed memorably at 
                the end, a suggestion that the tragedy 
                is about to be re-enacted) and Rubinstein’s 
                haunting final pages surely strike a 
                higher note than anything in the Walter, 
                which perhaps tries to hard for its 
                own good. 
              
 
              
The contribution from 
                pianist Andrew West is excellent, there 
                is a useful note and texts and English 
                translations are provided. Having found 
                the recording not exceptionally vivid, 
                I should add that I heard it as a straight 
                CD; maybe on SACD equipment it’s another 
                story. 
              
 
              
Christopher Howell