There has been a spate
of Tristans on CD the last few years.
Most of the well-known studio-made sets
or "official" live recordings
from Bayreuth are available but there
are also hoards of old or elderly live
recordings, often pirated and in murky
sound.
Now, here comes a brand
new one, recorded just a little more
than a year ago. "Live" it
is but this was planned and Titanic’s
PR department has been busy plugging
it. Recorded at a concert performance,
not a staged one, it has good sound,
good balance between orchestra and voices
and very little extraneous noise. Some
footsteps can be heard but there are
hardly any signs of an audience, not
until after the final chords of Isolde’s
Liebestod, when there is some
applause and some enthusiastic "bravos",
quickly faded down.
The Bulgarian Festival
Orchestra, which I suppose is a pick-up
ensemble, play well with smooth string
tone and some impressive brass playing.
There are moments of tentative ensemble
– not surprising in so long a work,
and one which probably was unknown to
most of the members of the orchestra
but not more than you can hear in any
live opera recording. This was Sofia’s
first performance ever of Tristan und
Isolde.
The conductor, Glen
Cortese, is clearly one to watch. He
has a firm grip of the music and manages
the prelude, with its myriad of dynamic
markings, very well. The constant ebb
and flow of the music - illustrating
the gentle rippling of the waves of
the smooth waters between Ireland and
Cornwall as opposed to Wagner’s description
of the wild North Sea in "The Flying
Dutchman" overture – is finely
executed. All through the opera he keeps
things moving, a bit on the fast side
but not extremely so. He also whips
up the tension in the more dramatic
scenes and underlines the ecstasy in
the love scenes. At the same time he
has a nice feeling for the softer, chamber
music like passages, where he is well
served by his instrumentalists, not
least the woodwind.
So far so good then,
but opera is also singing. Here I have
to raise objections to the current performance.
Of course this, of all operas, is really
testing, especially for the protagonists,
requiring superhuman stamina and leather-lungs.
Singing heavy parts like these year
after year inevitably affects the voice
negatively, often resulting in a widening
of vibrato which may end up in an uncontrolled
wobble. The singers on this recording
are all fairly young but all of them
are, to a smaller or greater extent,
afflicted by vibrato. Of course we are
used to it and a controlled vibrato
is even a necessary ingredient in romantic
opera. However there is a limit, different
from listener to listener, when that
vibrato becomes an irritant.
We notice it on the
very first voice we hear, that of the
Sailor, sung by baritone-turned-tenor
Timothy Jon Sarris, who also triples
as Melot and the Shepherd, but these
are minor parts and we don’t really
bother. But when Isolde appears, sung
by Susan Marie Pierson, we do bother.
This dramatic soprano, American like
the rest of the cast, has a big, rounded
and basically beautiful voice that can
ride a big orchestra without being drowned
even in big tuttis. But she has this
persistent vibrato. I heard her as Brünnhilde
in Die Walküre in Helsinki a couple
of years before this recording was made,
thought she was a good actor and that
she had a fine voice but was a little
worried about this vibrato, or rather
"beat", in the voice on high
sustained notes. "Maybe she shouldn’t
sing too many Brünnhildes every
year", I remember saying to my
wife. But obviously she has, for what
was then limited to the top notes and
in forte, now is prominent all through
her register and even when she sings
mezzoforte – and it is annoying. There
is no denying the beauty of the sounds
she produces. There is no denying her
ability to express sincerity, sorrow,
anger, ecstasy. She can scale
down her voice at crucial moments: Isolde’s
Liebestod is sung inwardly and
softly, starting pianissimo and
from there building the long arc that
again ends very softly. And here she
controls her vibrato and keeps it well
within what to my ears is acceptable.
And this last impression is, luckily,
what remains in the memory.
Gwendolyn Jones, as
Brangäne, has a strong, well-defined
mezzo with brilliant top-notes which
contrast well with Isolde’s more rounded
sounds. She gives a thrilling performance
of the confidante and the big first-act
duet between the two ladies is undoubtedly
intense. She, too, has her moments of
unduly wide vibration but mostly she
tames them quite well.
Kurwenal is sung by
David Malis, winner of BBC’s ‘Singer
of the World’ Competition in 1985. His
is a bright and clear high baritone
with lots of power, he characterizes
well and overall he is perhaps the most
accomplished singer in this cast.
When Tristan appears
his first sounds come as something of
a shock, because this was not what I
had expected. Reviews of the actual
concert where this was recorded spoke
of Marc Deaton’s "sonorous dramatic
sound" and "vocal beauty".
Seeing as well as hearing sometimes
can give a different impression from
just hearing. What I hear in these first
phrases is a rather colourless, greyish,
decidedly old-sounding tenor with, again,
a prominent vibrato. But, wait a little,
go on listening! You soon get used to
his sound, his vibrato becomes more
controlled and soon you realize that
there is a brilliant mind behind this
voice. Here is a singer who has thought
himself into the part he is creating.
Both he and Miss Pierson, and possibly
the rest of the cast, are new to their
roles, and sometimes it shows, when
he muddles his words and when he discolours
some vowels. But he has a fine legato,
he can produce the thinnest of pianissimos
without crooning and he has lots of
power. There is real Heldentenor-ring
in this voice and when the two lovers
build up the ecstasy at the end of act
one, and even more in the love-duet
of act two, we feel that we can almost
touch their lust, remembering Ingmar
Bergman’s describing this music drama
as "a five-hour-long sexual intercourse".
King Marke’s role is
not very long, but a sonorous, well-rounded
bass of the calibre of Martti Talvela
or Kurt Moll or Matti Salminen can still
make a mark in the part. Ethan Herschenfeld,
I am afraid, is nowhere near that level
of excellence. His first notes reveal
a shaky voice which actually sounds
a generation older than Marke is supposed
to be. It is depressing to read that
he made his debut as recently as 1998.
He improves though and the end of his
monologue (CD 3 track 4) from "Die
kein Himmel erlöst ..." is
deeply moving as an impersonation but
not as singing per se.
What is impressive
is to hear the two main protagonists
singing their demanding parts without
tiring, without having to resort to
barking, which can be the case in many
live performances.
Taken as a whole this
performance has several good things
to offer and I’m glad I got the opportunity
to hear it, but it can hardly compete
with some of the established recordings
in the catalogue. It comes at full,
or nearly full, price (Amazon Price
is $57.98). There are no texts or translations,
no artist portraits, not even a synopsis,
just a short article about Wagner and
Tristan by Robert T Glass in minuscule
print (white on blue of course). For
much less than that you can get my favourite
Tristan (DG), recorded live at Bayreuth
in the mid-1960s, Karl Böhm conducting
and an unbeatable cast: Birgit Nilsson,
Christa Ludwig, Wolfgang Windgassen,
Eberhard Waechter, Martti Talvela and
Peter Schreier in the small part of
The Sailor, all of them on top form.
For even less, Furtwängler’s 1952
recording can be had in the Naxos transfer.
Göran Forsling
Bulgarian Festival Orchestra and Chorus/Glen
Cortese 
