The published oeuvre of Romanian George Enescu is not particularly
large. He indulged in many other activities besides composing:
conductor, pianist and violin virtuoso as well as an important
teacher with Arthur Grumiaux, Ida Haendel and of course Yehudi
Menuhin among his pupils. He seems to have had a fabulous musical
memory and composed a lot that was never written down but kept in
his head.
Of all his works the opera Oedipe, based on Sophocles'
tragedy, was the one closest to his heart. It was premiered in
Paris in 1936, to great acclaim, but never got a foothold in the
repertoire. Not until after his death in 1955 was it revived by
French Radio and later played in Bucharest in a Romanian
translation. Although it is held in high esteem by
cognoscenti it is not performed all that often. This
recording is a co-production between Deutsche Oper Berlin and the
Vienna State Opera and was set down at its first night in Vienna.
It is a fascinating work in many respects. Peter Blaha, Chief
Dramaturg of the Vienna State Opera, says in his notes to this
issue that Schönberg and Stravinsky are the "ancestors of
modern music". Traces of them can be found in practically all
schools of twentieth century music. There are however some
"outsiders" and one of them is Enescu. In one way this score is a
kaleidoscope of influences from many directions:
Janáček, Alban Berg and even Debussy (Pelléas
et Mélisande) for example. In the main though his tonal
language is highly individual. He is constantly inventive in his
search for specific sounds for each situation. His use of the
wind-machine in act 2 scene 2 is just one instance. Time and again
one marvels at the different atmospheres he creates. The prelude is
powerful, dark and charged with foreboding. The beginning of the
second act is hauntingly beautiful. The fourth act starts with
light orchestral colours out of which emerges the chorus of praying
Athenians, a scene imbued with sacred feeling. The choral writing
is generally very imaginative, not least the tragic opening of act
3 with the people of Thebes lamenting their fate. Beside Oedipus
himself the chorus in its different disguises is the main
protagonist, which differs from Sophocles' original by telling
chronologically the story of the ill-fated Oedipus from the cradle
to the grave. In Sophocles the past is only related in narrative.
Whether this was the idea of Enescu himself or Edmond Fleg, his
librettist, I don't know but it certainly heightens the temperature.
It is in the two central acts that the main dramatic events occur.
This involves plenty of action on stage, resulting in a lot of
clomping feet, props being turned over and a lot of other business,
which can be frustrating to hear without knowing exactly what
happens. Since there is no libretto included, just a detailed
synopsis, one can't always find clues. At climaxes there is also
quite a lot of roaring and shrieking from the singers and the
chorus. I can't suppress a feeling that it is a bit overdone. This
is the downside of live recordings and one has to take the good
with the bad. In a studio one often misses the feeling of a real
event. Still for repeated listening I often prefer a more
antiseptic atmosphere to too much larger-than-life histrionics.
As far as I can tell, conductor Michael Gielen, who is well versed
in 20th century music and not least 20th
century opera, leads a well-paced performance where the dramatic
outbursts, of which there are many, are tremendously telling. No
half-measures here! On the other hand he conducts the more lyrical
parts with great sensitivity and the beauty of the string-writing
receives an extra sheen through the silken Viennese bows. It has
also to be said that this opera doesn't offer much easy listening;
for long stretches it is almost unbearably tough and intense,
though never less than deeply fascinating.
There is a strong cast of singers in the main roles and head and
shoulders above the rest is of course Monte Pederson as the
eponymous hero - or is he an anti-hero? His rich bass-baritone is a
pliable instrument to express all the conflicting feelings of
Oedipus. His stage presence seems all-embracing, something that is
confirmed by several photos in the booklet. The most touching scene
is probably the end of act 3 when he appears to some frightening
orchestral chords followed by the shrieks of the people at the
sight of Oedipus with his eyes torn out. In this situation he is no
longer able to sing - he speaks his lines with half-choked
distorted voice, against a bleak orchestral backdrop with ominous
timpani. The more desperate and broken he becomes the more Bergian
the accompaniment. Oedipus is a gigantic role - he appears in every
scene, except the short first act, where he has just been born -
and it speaks a lot for Monte Pederson's stamina that he doesn't
sound too worn even at the end, having violated his vocal cords for
almost two hours. Otherwise Pederson is very little recorded so
this set is a fitting tribute to his memory - he died of cancer in
2001. There is a preponderance of low voices in the rest of the
cast too: four basses and two baritones plus two mezzo-sopranos are
balanced against two tenors and one soprano, who none of them have
very much to sing. Marjana Lipovšek, doubling as Jocaste and
The Sphinx, makes a strong impression and, especially as the
latter, sings with an almost otherworldly caressing tone. Ruxandra
Donose as Antigone, appearing at the end of the opera, also sings
well. Possibly the best singing per se The Watchman in act 2
scene 3 as delivered by Walter Fink. Fink has one of the finest
bass-voices in the German-speaking world, as visitors to the Vienna
State Opera must be well aware of. Not all the singers are free
from wobbles and other signs of wear, but of course the score puts
heavy demands on most of the characters.
At the moment there is no competition, but there has been, and if
EMI's recording from 1990 would ever appear again it would probably
be an even better recommendation. I have only heard a few snippets
from it, but they showed what this issue most obviously lacks: a
tinge of France. It was after all written to a French libretto and
in this Vienna cast there isn't a native French speaker. On the
other hand the EMI set, a studio recording from Monte Carlo, led by
Lawrence Foster and with a starry cast of mostly French-speakers,
has an altogether more Gallic tone. José Van Dam in the
title role has a roundness of tone - and the idiomatic
pronunciation - that at once elevates the music. With names like
Gabriel Bacquier, Gino Quilico, Jean-Philippe Courtis, Brigitte
Fassbaender, Barbara Hendricks and even Nicolaï Gedda in the
small role as the Shepherd we are in a different world. In a way it
lends the whole reading a greater resemblance to Debussy, which may
not be what Enescu intended, but it is a lusher sound and so more
mitigating than the harsher Vienna sound.
With good sound taken from the Austrian Radio (ORF) this is
nevertheless a good and cheap way of getting to know this work -
provided one is equipped with good nerves.
Göran Forsling
Monte Pederson (bass-baritone) - Oedipe; Egils Silins (bass) -
Tirésias; Davide Damiani (baritone) - Créon; Michael
Roider (tenor) - Le berger (The Shepherd); Goran Simić (bass)
- Le grand prêtre (The High Priest); Peter Köves (bass)
- Phorbas; Walter Fink (bass) - Le veilleur (The Watchman); Yu Chen
(baritone) - Thésée; Josef Hopferwieser (tenor) -
Laïos; Marjana Lipovšek (mezzo) - Jocaste/La Sphinge
(The Sphinx); Ruxandra Donose (soprano) - Antigone; Mihaela
Ungureanu (mezzo) - Mérope
