Stereotypes exist because they relate to some reality, even if
they lack nuance, tact and are misleading when we fail to distinguish
between sweeping claims and individual instances.
Applied
to musicians they can attain a life of their own, especially
the negative ones coloring our perceptions before we’ve even
heard the artist in question. Maurizio Pollini is a “cold” pianist,
Lang Lang shallow, Pierre Boulez an ‘analytical’, fast, and
emotionless conductor, Hans Knappertsbusch invariably slow,
Herbert von Karajan slick and polished.
Pollini
can be coolly technical on some recordings. But he’s
just as likely involving and dazzling in concert. Boulez conducts
Wagner slower than Sawallisch or Kraus, and some of his Mahler
recordings are among the most charged and fervent. Even Karajan
occasionally allowed for grit and Lang Lang has delivered concerts
and recordings that go well beyond the notes and sheer facility.
The
stereotype about Sir Reginald Goodall, the very English conductor
of German repertoire, is that he is very, very slow. Judging
only from his recordings, this is not just a stereotype, it’s
the plain truth. His Mastersingers performance, thanks to Sir
Peter Moores for the first time available on CD, starts with
an in-cred-i-bly slow overture. From there, these Mastersingers
- just minutes shy of five hours! - proceed slow generally,
sometimes to wonderful effect, sometimes without the slothfulness
being bothersome, and sometimes making matters garrulous. But
there are also surprisingly lively moments in between – or are
they perhaps just moments of normal tempos that seem lively
amid the rest?
There
are plenty of stage noises in this live
recording from 1968, but not so intrusive
that they disturb. A little disturbing
is the applause after the quintet (because
the curtain descends) – which is then
belatedly hissed down. What makes this
set interesting to Wagnerians, even
outside English-speaking countries,
are the fine voices so well caught,
even if the sound quality isn’t all
that great - too muffled, for one. Goodall
had an eye and ear for promising young
British singers and he championed them
through his entire career. The cast
he assembled for the Mastersingers is
one of young, yet old-fashioned sounding
singers. If you compare this with Karl
Böhm’s Bayreuth live recording
from the same year with Waldemar Kmentt,
Theo Adam, and Gwyneth Jones - on average
a few years older than their British
colleagues - you will find the latter
present a much more modern style of
Wagner singing.
But
old-fashioned doesn’t mean ‘bad’ at all, and Norman Bailey (Sachs),
Derek Hammond-Stroud (Beckmesser), Alberto Remedios (Stolzing),
Margaret Curphey (Eva), and Gregory Dempsey (David) make for
a terrific ensemble of strong, carefully enunciating voices
superior to many in more famous recordings. It culminates in
the very nice and nicely recorded nightwatchman of Stafford
Dean. He’s got a terrific voice and sings most melodiously.
“Die
Meistersinger” in English works – as does the Ring – surprisingly
well. Since I’ve heard and liked the Ring, I suppose
it shouldn’t have surprised me. It’s easier to understand, even
for German native speakers, than most recordings in German are.
The translation (Frederick Jameson, revised by Norman Feasey
and Gordon Kember) is terrific and has only two, three moments
that compare obviously negatively with the original.
The
stage-action during the Volksfest is a hoot, a boisterous
and raucous affair, realistic to the point of challenging the
music. It’s excellently done: from the midst of noisy carousing
arises the choir – and the exclamations of “Silentium!” really
make dramatic sense. It’s a choir very charmingly engaged with
all they’ve got, including early entries.
Listening
to meaningful opera in the original language is hugely
overrated. Authenticity is worth little when it comes at the cost
of incomprehension. In opera houses and on DVDs, the solution
of super- and sub-titles offers a working compromise. But on CD
it’s nicer to comprehend something while listening, rather than
arduously trying to follow the action by reading a multi-language
libretto in minuscule print. This is not supposed to be an argument
to replace all your recordings of non-Italian operas - better
off not understanding the text of Il Turco, I say
- with versions done in your vernacular (not likely available,
anyway). It is however to suggest that this recording being in
English need not be seen as a detriment when it can be a bonus.
In any case the singing is so fine and the interpretation has
so many neat moments that, at least for me, it ranks with a good
handful of the most desirable versions: Kubelik, Sawallisch, Solti II, Böhm 1968, Karajan 1970.
Jens F. Laurson
