The
third volume of operatic highlights for Arthaus presents some
further frustrating scenes from standard operas, filmed in various
opera houses – frustrating in the sense that when one has started
to get involved the excerpt is over and one is left in mid-air,
since there are some very abrupt cuts. As a trailer for the
complete works – if they exist – or just a 1½-hour-long opera
concert with glimpses of some of the greatest of present day’s
and yesterday’s artists, this DVD is attractive. The singing
and acting is almost constantly on a very high level and there
are some interesting and perspective-building stage solutions
and directional ideas to note. A special feature – attractive
or not is a matter of personal taste – is that all the artists
also give spoken introductions to their numbers. The only exception
is the aria Martern aller Arten from Die Entführung,
where it is conductor Marc Minkowski who does the talking, focusing
on the fact that the instrumental soloists from the orchestra
are on-stage, forming a mini-band. An idea behind this production
is that it points to the cultural clashes between East and West,
the Western prisoners dressed in present day casual clothes
and jogging shoes while the locals wear traditional Eastern
costumes. Bassa Selim, being more urban, has adopted Western
ideas and so doesn’t really belong in either camp. Franz Hawlata
is a mightily impressive Osmin, violent and furious, bullying
poor Pedrillo until some of the extras, who seemingly idly wander
about the stage, interfere. Christine Schäfer’s Konstanze has
been threatened with torture if she doesn’t accept to be Bassa
Selim’s mistress but she still seems to be emotionally – maybe
also sexually – attracted to him. She sings well with great
dramatic presence, as does Paul Groves as her real lover Belmonte
in a romantic reading, full of nuances, of the aria Wenn
der Freude Tränen fliessen. Glorious singing is also offered
by Yvonne Kenny in the notoriously taxing aria from Così
fan tutte, performed as the prayer it is, kneeling before
an imagined altar. Her appearance is the image of innocence,
dressed in a simple white costume – or is it a nightie?
Waltraud
Meier is a Venus with great charisma in an expressionist production
of Tannhäuser, ample and alluring, having Tannhäuser
crawling at her feet. She sings as gloriously as she looks and
it is a pity that this excerpt is marred by a hilariously inartistic
cut. Tannhäuser is heard in the Rome Narration and there is
no mistaking René Kollo’s deep insight and dramatic conviction.
Visually and histrionically this is a great reading but the
voice is worn and he has developed a wobble that becomes very
prominent when the voice is under pressure. There are no such
limitations when we move from Munich to Covent Garden and are
exposed to Bryn Terfel’s tremendous John the Baptist. As so
often with Terfel his is a larger-than-life reading but it is
so well conceived, so intense and sung with such power that
the sheer volume is like a tornado, nailing the listener against
the back of the chair. No wonder Catherine Malfitano’s Salome
becomes so fascinated.
Fascination
of a different kind, but just as horrifying, is encountered
in Harry Kupfer’s grotesque staging of Elektra from the
Vienna State Opera. Having first seen and heard the cool and
articulate Brigitte Fassbaender give an eloquent spoken introduction
to the scene, her transformation to a ghostlike Klytemnestra
comes as a shock. Her eloquence, her expressiveness, her unique
identification makes the character almost climb out of the telly
and appear life-size in the living-room. Eva Marton is a similarly
forbidding Elektra.
From
the grey horror of Elektra to the rose-coloured evening
glow of Capriccio is a leap in time of more than thirty
years and a 180º change of musical direction. Introduced and
lovingly performed by Kiri Te Kanawa, the Countess aria concerning
which is more important, the words or the music, is a fitting
end to this opera concert, leaving us without a strict answer:
they are inseparable.
Much
to enjoy here, if one likes bleeding chunks of opera, the major
drawback being the spoken introductions, which after repeated
listening and watching will probably become tiring and should
have been given separate cue points. The documentation is meagre,
the booklet containing a tracklist and artists’ portraits but
to get to know where, when and by whom – apart from the main
characters – the excerpts were recorded, one has to read the
credits after each number. Unnecessarily slipshod.
Göran
Forsling
Previous
reviews of this series:
Volume
1
Volume
2