Grand opera and a tumultuous passion meet operetta in Die Kathrin.
	This is Korngold's fifth and final opera. It runs 18 mins short of three
	hours. It is here recorded without scene 3 which comprises spoken dialogue
	only. The words are printed in the booklet.
	
	Here we have a late grand opera not as late as Walton's Troilus and Cressida
	but late enough. It was written between 1932 and 1937, being completed
	very close to his very fortunate departure for the USA to score the film,
	The Adventures of Robin Hood. Listening now to so much of his concert
	music we realise that rather than his concert music sounding like his film
	music his swooningly effective style was well established in his concert
	works first. You notice it all the more in this full-strength opera complete
	with grand orchestra including orchestral piano, three saxes and a spot-on
	vibraphone.
	
	Korngold subtitled the work 'a folk-opera' and you can see or hear why,
	especially in the final Act. It charts an extremely sentimental story with
	music to match.
	
	CPO have, in short, done the work proud. Their cast, though not without
	weakness, is very good and the eponymous lead is wonderful. David Rendall
	(a name suddenly known because of a recent incident in which after a stage
	dagger retractor mechanism failed he inadvertently stabbed a fellow singer)
	as the romantic soldier-chansonnier, François is in good voice though
	he shows some strain. I cannot swear to the faithfulness of the accents but
	they sound authentic.
	
	The story (apologies for brutal compression here) is one of Kathrin falling
	in love with a garrison soldier (François) whose heart is in music,
	the lute and singing rather than soldiering. He seduces her to the backdrop
	of glorious music and the two fall in love. A child (a boy - inevitably called
	François) is born. The garrison leaves the town and with it goes
	François. Kathrin (in early pregnancy) goes to Marseille in search
	of her love. She is almost seduced by a night club owner who, by typically
	operatic coincidence, has hired François as a chansonnier. François
	believes the owner has seduced Kathrin and is shot by Monique (an associate
	of the owner) though everyone believes it was either Kathrin or Francois.
	François goes to prison. Kathrin goes to Switzerland and there has
	the child. The couple are reunited five years later and live blissfully ever
	after.
	
	From the first track of Scene 1 we are treated to Korngold in confident
	resplendently bright music (pre-echoing his film music). There is a Mahlerian
	female chorus and the music rushes and surges in romantic waves like a Viennese
	Nutcracker (The Snowflakes). The singing has a heady Puccinian urbanity and
	an elated ecstasy. The first hints of operetta are heard in a brightness
	mixed with Elgarian audacity. In 'Es ist ja wahr' vigorous and noble
	trumpets erupt in silvery flamboyant fanfare. Sliding and mildly discordant
	washes of string sound evoke the Franz Schmidt of the second symphony. The
	caressing and trembling tenderness of the love duet is pointed up by the
	vibraphone which instantly recalls the fine use of this instrument in the
	film scores. Truly sumptuous.
	
	The second scene opens with a (Richard) Straussian duet for two sopranos,
	Kathrin and Margot, and leads into Kathrin's aria as she writes her farewell
	letter to the delightfully-named lover, François Lorand. François
	comes to her room in the moonlit night and the 'Dear John' letter, Kathrin's
	letter, is never sent. You can hear her ecstatic despair and joy melt and
	flow together in the lava flow of Korngold's melody. Ardent romance smokes
	and fumes on François's words 'Kathrin ich habe dich gern'. Echoes
	of Robin Hood and Elizabeth and Essex resonate around the embrace which ends
	the scene in gossamer sensuality. A master-stroke is the almost tangible
	picture of the 'Dear John' letter blowing off the table as the warm night
	air fills the room.
	
	Track 7 opens with several minutes of orchestral entr'acte: a thunderous
	and clangorous prelude which reminded me of one of Arnold Bax's stentorian
	Irish marches - just a tad bombastic. It slips into an eldritch processional
	- kitsch but effective. The next scene can be envisioned as a slow motion
	wave of passion frozen then haltingly moving forward. From this develops
	a heroic trio with François's music utterly wonderful despite being
	delivered with a faintly steely edge The drinking song scene rather lets
	the track record down. It is a blowsy carouse to the prominent words:
	"Valleri! Vallera!" For me it is a miscalculation, superficial and
	weak with a skittering and tramping chorus of students and girls. It is
	punctuated by a prominent xylophone. This has the worst overtones of Verdi
	at his most tawdry. Appalling cheap brummagem stuff. This however is lightened
	by the touchingly tender 'Mein mann hat mich vermieden', predicting
	music from Tomorrow and The Sea Wolf film.
	
	Act II depicts Kathrin's fate while wandering to find her François,
	armed with expired passport and a love letter. Vulnerable and lonely she
	is gulled by Malignac (the night club owner) who gets her a fake passport.
	In the fourth scene operetta raises its head again with jerkily romantic
	and winningly bright-eyed music. The ladies choir sings with silvery tone.
	This music might almost be by Stephen Sondheim as in A Little Night Music.
	The luxuriantly floated high notes from Lillian Watson, as Chou Chou, are
	a treasurable moment amongst many. A softly seductive trio of saxes permeate
	the music. At 2:47 in track 5 (Disc 2) we get a truly lovely Viennese impression
	(yes I know the locale is meant to be Marseille) breathing coffee and cream.
	
	Malignac muses satyr-like on the pleasures of enjoying Kathrin, his plan
	all along. Korngold allows him some fine music in one of those steady
	mountain-climbing, stepped melodies of which Korngold is a master-craftsman.
	There is a mildly distressing wobble in the voice of Robert Hayward (Malignac)
	but nothing too distracting. The seduction proceeds but in front of
	François who interrupts only when he realises that it is Kathrin before
	him. This episode slips intothe next scene with the orchestra's wild
	caterwauling, howling and shouting of death. The music then begins to toll
	and shudder after the death of Malignac. Kathrin is left musing on her fate
	as Francois is dragged away to trial and prison.
	
	The third Act is the shortest of the three, at 43:32. It is in four scenes
	and all have a folk-opera feel. The music may well have been influenced by
	Delius's 'A Walk To the Paradise Garden'. The setting is the Swiss
	mountains. The melodies and airs have around them a halo of innocence and
	a lightness which suggests Canteloube's orchestrations of the Songs of
	Auvergne. A devastatingly poetic moment comes at the opening of scene
	2 when the orchestra vividly pictures clouds piercing the mountain heights
	just as François arrives singing. Surely Korngold wrote this music
	to be sung along to - a Viennese karaoke. François, the journeyman
	singer, serenades Kathrin for a lovelorn tailor - a Cyrano de Bergerac
	moment. The lute song is sweetly sung and in the middle of it François
	recognises Kathrin and recognition is marked by a Schrecker-like crisis in
	the orchestra.
	
	We are then treated to more bright Sondheim-like eagerness as they reproach
	and then forgive themselves and fall into each others arms to meltingly swooping
	strings and burnished eloquent brass crying out to heaven. The strings subtly
	touch in the moonlight as the lovers go to the house, borne along on the
	glimmering glow of the strings. A happy ending with very little sourness
	but just enough grit and steel to sustain this major structure.
	
	Now, opera managements forget your fly-on-the-wall stardoms and let's have
	an operatic season with Die Kathrin included. Come the day! Audiences
	glowing with this experience will walk out into the night after the performance
	onto wet streets. The recording, which is remarkably rich, delivers a great
	frisson. Just listen to 'Bin dir weib (man) das sich selbst durch dich gewann.'
	Utterly wonderful. I confess to being moved to tears by this exuberantly
	emotive music.
	
	Brendan G Carroll author of THE Korngold biography (The Last Prodigy)
	is the author of the 116 page notes. Everything is thoroughly well documented.
	I noted many fine little touches showing a discriminating judgement: e.g.
	the brave and successful decision to keep any printing off the covers of
	the CD insert - just a great photo of a 40 year old Korngold. The libretto
	is in German and English. There is a synopsis. The notes - though not the
	libretto - are in English, French and German.
	
	This is a superb production: music of your most romantic dreams and packing
	a grand emotional punch with smouldering and flaming fervour. Hotly recommended.
	
	If you liked Die Kathrin let me also recommend the Chandos CDs of
	
	Walton's Troilus and Cressida; Othmar Schoeck's two operas Massimila
	
	Doni (Koch) and Venus (MGB) and, as an off-beat link-in, Stephen
	
	Sondheim's Sweeney Todd (BMG) and A Little Night Music (Sony-CBS).
	
	Reviewer
	
	 Rob Barnett
	
	tar.gif) 
	
	Another contribution from Ian Lace
	
	Rather than repeat the detail of Rob Barnett's fine review I would like to
	contribute some broader thoughts.
	
	I write after listening to this 3 CD set for the third time. Each successive
	hearing has revealed more and more delights. So many highlights from this
	sumptuously scored opera are imprinted upon my memory. There is the fine
	singing throughout of Melanie Diener as Kathrin, but I felt that she was
	particularly memorable and poignant in her Act I letter song and in the closing
	aria of Act II, "War ist geschehn" - in which she agonises over her
	lover's (wrongful) arrest for murder and then summons up her courage to rise
	above it all and live for their still unborn child. Equally splendid is Lilian
	Watson, outstanding in the demanding high-voiced role of Chou-Chou in her
	Act II aria as she tries to win François's affection (there is a lovely
	passage in this aria as François, in response, tells her that he cannot
	forget Kathrin). The only sympathetic aria for Malignac, "In einer
	Viertelstund", strongly sung by Robert Hayward, is another highlight
	of Act II. The sumptuous romantic orchestral scoring as François and
	Kathrin discover and sublimate their love through Act I is delectable and
	then there is the lovely pastoral-evocative orchestral opening to Act III;
	and the simple charm of François's Act III song "Wo ist mein
	Heim", (Where is My Home..?) Rendall is at his best in this little gem.
	Alas mention of Rendall brings me to the debit side of the recording; I have
	to say that I was generally disappointed with his singing; I did not care
	too much for the timbre of his voice which is marred by an excessive vibrato.
	I am told, too, by friends in Europe that, generally, language pronunciation
	is not too secure either.
	
	I understand that Decca was originally going to produce Die Kathrin but
	cancelled out. We owe it to Brendan Carroll that he came to the rescue and
	persuaded the BBC and CPO to proceed with the project. It should be
	stressed that this is a live performance/broadcast after limited rehearsal
	time and produced on a small budget. Under such circumstances, Brabbins and
	his performers have achieved a small miracle.
	
	Film fans will recognise echoes of much material that Korngold used in his
	film scores and there is an added fascination - the opera's opening scene
	is set outside a cinema - it is used as a device to introduce François
	to Kathrin for the latter cannot go inside without being escorted by the
	former.
	
	To broader issues. Die Kathrin was Korngold's fifth and last opera.
	Before it came Das Wunder der Heliane (The Miracle of Heliane) a
	magnificent epic drama which failed because of the backlash against Korngold's
	works due to the immense interest in Krenek's jazz-opera Jonny Spielt
	Auf and Korngold's father's ill-advised critical pillorying of the work.
	Heliane's failure shook Korngold's confidence and he turned to adapting arranging
	and conducting a series of operettas.Alas fate was also to rob him of public
	acceptance of Die Kathrin which was about to be staged in Vienna when
	the Nazis entered the City and the premier was cancelled. When it was eventually
	premiered in Stockholm, in October 1939, it met with hostile anti-Semitic
	reviews. Furthermore, when it was given its belated Vienna premier in 1950
	it was derided as being hopelessly outdated.
	
	Working against the emergent tide of serialism, Die Kathrin is resolutely
	tonal - even of the ripest most effulgent late Romanticism one could imagine.
	The libretto is weak and the concept follows a well worn path. The story
	echoes too closely, perhaps, those used by Puccini in La Rondine and
	Lehar in Giuditta. So it is no little wonder that the 1950 Vienna
	war-weary and cynical audience was in no mood for it. Having said all that,
	one must recognise the unique differences in Die Kathrin, from preceding
	works of that nature even though these were clearly insufficiently strong
	to have made an impact on audiences and critics. Die Kathrin might
	be regarded as three operas/operettas in one. (As Rob Barnett rightly infers
	it is something of a hybrid and hybrids are notoriously difficult to accept
	- Puccini, for instance, was heart-broken at the failure of his La
	Rondine.) You have a traditional lush late Romantic first act followed
	by a more modern second act with a significant jazz content and an orchestrally
	pared down third act which resembles something of a folk opera (Rob's allusion
	to the Delius of A Village Romeo and Juliet is pertinent). What probably
	also went unnoticed was the unusual scoring of Die Kathrin - a large
	orchestra is used with many additional instruments including three jazz
	saxophones, guitar, accordion and vibraphone.
	
	Korngold's fate was not unusual - how often has a composer experienced adulation,
	followed by rejection and then by years of derision and abandonment before
	he is rediscovered as times and tastes change? Personally, I think that as
	much as this fickleness might be abhorred, in a way, it is a necessary process
	for it permits the natural progression of musical ideas. As much as many
	of us abhorred atonality and other modern music it was necessary that it
	should have its day. Hopefully the best of it will inform the best of the
	music of tomorrow together with the best of Korngold, and the late Romantics
	in general and the classical composers before them. You will get my drift...
	Now if I can take this point and parallel it with the history of film music,
	we can see a similar rebellion against the traditional forms of Korngold,
	Steiner and Alfred Newman etc. in the early 1950s with the emergence of the
	jazz-based scores of Alex North, the dissonances of Leonard Rosenman and
	the sparer more economical scores of Elmer Bernstein. These and other changes
	have informed the scores being written today which do not hesitate to embrace
	many styles in one score to the benefit, and closer understanding of the
	screenplay.
	
	In conclusion I would add that I hope Decca might be shamed into reconsidering
	a further recording of Die Kathrin employing a first class cast and orchestra.
	After all, EMI employed Gheorghiu and Alagna spectacularly successfully in
	their Award-winning recording of Puccini's La Rondine an opera that
	was thought by too many people who ought to have known better to have been
	little more than a disaster.
	
	Ian Lace 
	
	