I respond infinitely more positively to this 1970 concert
recital than my fellow MusicWeb reviewer Simon Thompson. His
verdict, in November
2008, was that the DVD “captures Janowitz towards the end
of her prime” and that it is “not particularly attractive or
engaging … and its main value is historical.”
I could not disagree more, though I grant that there is little
point either in buying or watching this concert unless you actually
respond to Janowitz’s voice and art - and taste in sopranos
is notoriously subjective. This DVD is apparently one of a series
named “Zauber der Stimme”, and, for me, Janowitz does indeed
provide magic.
The concert, filmed for Austrian television, was clearly something
of a homecoming for her, as she studied at the Graz Conservatory
and was, by this date, an established international star. Although
the recital is short by most standards, her selection of arias
is cunningly programmed. It moves chronologically from Baroque,
through Romantic, to verismo, in order to demonstrate her versatility.
Primarily renowned for her Mozart and Strauss roles, she does
indeed sing Donna Anna’s “Non mi dir” from “Don Giovanni”. Otherwise,
she selects no Strauss but rather five other seminal operatic
composers: Handel, Weber, Verdi, Puccini and Wagner. When you
think about it, that’s quite some span, especially when she
sings the arias as well as this.
The sound, although mono, is better in quality than the grainy
black and white picture - but it is perfectly watchable. Three
cameras provide unfussy coverage and while Janowitz is not the
most animated of stage animals, I would far sooner watch her
than the stuffy audience. They seem barely to respond to her
singing – not necessarily her fault, I think. She is restrained
in her demeanour and the only things which smack of the diva
are the big hair and the sequined kaftan. It is clear that her
voice easily fills the Stefaniensaal, even if her lower register
was never the most refulgent. She seems to be enjoying herself;
certainly she makes singing look effortless and her technique
allows her to do pretty much everything she wants throughout
the demanding programme. For example, she copes easily with
both the coloratura and the heft required for the Verdi item.
Those familiar with the live recording of her Elisabetta in
“Don Carlos”, performed with Corelli in Vienna in the same year,
will be less surprised by her facility in Verdi. Like all good
singers, she does not need to “mouth” the notes, opening wide
only to hit those glittering top Bs and B flats. She even opens
Odabella’s aria with a good top C but it’s not exactly comfortable,
whereas the concluding B flat is a corker. I agree with Mr Thompson
that the “Freischütz” aria finds her at her best. She delivers
a rapt performance, her creamy tone and seamless legato capturing
perfectly first Agathe’s dreamy lullaby and then the ecstasy
of her love, when Janowitz sparkles. I readily admit that I
value her beauty of sound above her powers of characterisation,
but I do not necessarily mean that she fails to differentiate
between her heroines: Odabella is a real spitfire. Her Tosca
has a bell-like purity, conveying a vulnerability and innocence
which makes a refreshing change and the concluding B flat is
charged with passion. She acquires a glint in the eye for the
rapturous Tannhäuser aria – everything works. If I am going
to carp, I would say that I could wish her diction were sharper,
especially in Italian, but for the most part I found myself
swept along by her singing.
Berislav Klobucar and the Graz Philharmonic provide unobtrusive,
expert support and play two overtures most agreeably, the Handel
being in the old-fashioned, but still enjoyable, style.
“Welch schöne Nacht” indeed. She sounds as if she could sing
all night, too, and frankly I’d be willing to stay up all night
to hear her.
Ralph Moore
see also review
by Simon Thompson