Giuseppe VERDI (1813-1901) 
          
Falstaff (1893) [123.00] 
          Donald Gramm (bass) - Falstaff; Kay Griffel (soprano) - Mistress Alice 
          Ford; Reni Penkova (alto) - Mistress Meg Page; Nucci Condò (alto) 
          - Mistress Quickly; Max-René Cosotti (tenor) - Fenton; Elizabeth 
          Gale (soprano) - Nanetta; Benjamin Luxon (baritone) - Ford; John Fryatt 
          (tenor) - Dr Caius; Bernard Dickerson (tenor) - Bardolph; Ugo Trama 
          (bass) - Pistol; Richard Robson (silent) - Page; Graeme Matheson-Bruce 
          (silent) - Host; Paul Jackson (silent) - Falstaff’s page; Glyndebourne 
          Festival Chorus, London Philharmonic Orchestra/Sir John Pritchard 
          rec. Glyndebourne Opera House, 1976 
          
ARTHAUS MUSIK 102 315 
 
          [123.00]  
 
        
        Jean-Pierre Ponnelle, the director of this Glyndebourne 
          Festival production, was during the 1970s one of the pioneers of what 
          would become known as ‘concept opera’. By this mean the 
          introduction of additional points of interpretation or viewpoint that 
          were clearly not in the mind of the composer at the time of the original 
          presentation. Working always within the field of his own set designs, 
          the results were often spectacularly beautiful to look at - something 
          which is by no means the case nowadays - and quite often illuminating. 
          Unsurprisingly there are some touches in this production which would 
          have surprised Verdi, not least the performance of the final fugue in 
          front of the house curtain in the manner of a Shakespearean epilogue. 
          The staging of the first duet between Nanetta and Fenton in silhouette 
          - as in Ponnelle’s earlier film of Rossini’s Cenerentola 
          - is in the same category. Verdi’s librettist Arrigo Boito went 
          out of his way to simplify the plot of Shakespeare’s Merry 
          Wives of Windsor when making his adaptation for Verdi. Ponnelle 
          re-introduces the character of Page - as a mute figure always interrupted 
          when he wishes to contribute to the proceedings - as well as enlarging 
          the silent parts of the Host of the Garter Inn and Falstaff’s 
          page boy, giving them plenty to do on stage. none of these additions 
          actually goes against what Verdi put into the music; they are often 
          amusing - especially the gormless but inquisitive page boy - and there 
          are plenty of other directorial touches to delight both the ear and 
          the eye. Some at least of these fall into the category of “Why 
          didn’t anybody think of that before?” 
            
          The sets, confined as they are by the small stage of the old Glyndebourne 
          opera house, are atmospheric and realistic. The painted backdrops showing 
          scenes across the mediaeval town of Windsor are lovely to look at as 
          well as providing context for the production. The ensemble achieved 
          by the cast, helped by Glyndebourne’s generous rehearsal schedules, 
          is something wonderful to behold. These singers have lived in their 
          roles for long enough that everything comes naturally to them, and there 
          is never the slightest suggestion of exaggerated mugging or hamming 
          for comic effect. The characters take themselves totally seriously, 
          and it is this very ability to behave as if what they were doing was 
          not intended to be humorous that makes their behaviour all the more 
          amusing. 
            
          The lynchpin of the production, as of any Falstaff, is Donald 
          Gramm as the fat knight. Actually he is not so fat as to be grotesque 
          - one remembers with a shudder Bryn Terfel’s gross stomach at 
          Covent Garden. This Falstaff is trim enough, and young enough, that 
          one can believe he might have been a small slender page boy when he 
          was a teenager. His behaviour towards the other characters is rendered 
          all the more credible when he is seen as a real and credible threat, 
          a scoundrel on the make. His vocal range is not ideal for a Falstaff; 
          he is a bass rather than the baritone that Verdi specified, and he has 
          to take his high G at the end of the Honour monologue down an octave. 
          Otherwise his top register is fine, and the additional weight in the 
          lower end of the spectrum is helpful in assisting him to cut through 
          Verdi’s often thick vocal and orchestral textures. 
            
          The merry wives are a boisterous and well-matched team. Kay Griffel 
          displays a real sense of Verdian line. One has heard the role of Alice 
          sung with greater richness, but she tops out the ensembles well and 
          looks young enough to be desirable. In fact she looks very little older 
          than her daughter. Elizabeth Gale as Ninetta was a Glyndebourne stalwart 
          in the 1970s, and she sings her aria in the last Act with all the delicacy 
          that one could wish. Nucci Condo as Mistress Quickly is booming and 
          resonant, although her trill on Reverenza! is no better than 
          many. Reni Penkova as Meg slots into the line-up with skill. 
            
          Benjamin Luxon is caught in this production at the peak of his form. 
          In later years the vibrato in his voice loosened to the extent that 
          it could be accused of being a wobble, but there is no sign of that 
          here. He takes himself properly seriously as a character. Incidentally 
          one notices in his jealous monologue that Verdi indulges himself with 
          what I think must be a unique instance of self-quotation … or 
          is it just a coincidence that the horns play the theme from Philip’s 
          Dormiro sol from the Don Carlos aria (lamenting his suspicions 
          of his wife’s unfaithfulness) just before Ford’s words “Set 
          is the hour, the match is completed”? 
            
          In the smaller parts - if any part of the ensemble in Falstaff 
          can be called a ‘small part’ - Max-René Cossotto 
          is particularly impressive as Fenton. He sings with perfect delicacy 
          but with a hint of metal in the tone which brings real life to the character. 
          His costume, with his legs and buttocks well displayed in very tight 
          tights, would have defeated many less athletically built opera singers. 
          Those well-known English character tenors John Fryatt and Bernard Dickerson 
          are in their respective elements as Dr Caius and Bardolph, and Ugo Trama 
          is a resonant Pistol. They, like all the singers, are sometimes almost 
          overwhelmed by the weight of the sound coming from the orchestra pit 
          in the old Glyndebourne house. One is grateful that Pritchard resists 
          the temptation to tone down the volume - Verdi’s score needs wholehearted 
          playing - but the balance in the recorded sound could still have been 
          better judged to assist the singers. The recording is described on the 
          box as being in stereo, but Michael Scott Rohan in the Classical 
          Video Guide states that it is mono. There is no obvious evidence 
          either way although the sound from singers at the back of the stage 
          is properly distanced. He describes the performance itself as “splendid”, 
          and with that judgement one must agree wholeheartedly. 
            
          This is one of the series of Glyndebourne Festival productions that 
          Southern Television so admirably recorded during the 1960s and 1970s. 
          As usual the television producer Dave Heather makes sure that we can 
          see everything that is going on - including one clearly inserted shot 
          of Falstaff looking at his reflection in the water. Once or twice the 
          subtitles go slightly awry (too early or too late), as they did in the 
          original release of this DVD some years back. Also reproduced from the 
          earlier release is a rather odd booklet essay by Sandra Leupold which 
          makes the amazing statement “It is no accident that Falstaff, 
          even today, is not very popular with travelling opera stars. The same 
          can be said for many opera fans …” Well, I may be biased, 
          coming as I do from the part of the world which has produced two of 
          the leading exponents of the role over the last fifty years, but I just 
          don’t think that statement is true “even today” - 
          or indeed, whenever the essay was written. 
            
          The picture format (4:3) is fine - one doesn’t miss the facility 
          of wide screen with the narrow proscenium of the old Glyndebourne house 
          - the subtitles are legible - with one blip when they turn dark blue 
          for a second. Altogether this re-release is most welcome. Falstaff 
          has been a lucky opera on video, with many recommendable productions 
          available, but this must be counted among the best of them. 
            
          Paul Corfield Godfrey