Erich Wolfgang KORNGOLD (1897-1957)
Die tote Stadt, Op 12 (1917-20)
Opera in three acts
René Kollo (tenor) – Paul; Carol Neblett (soprano) – Marietta / The apparition of Marie; Benjamin Luxon (baritone) – Frank; Rose Wagemann (mezzo-soprano) – Brigitta, Paul’s housekeeper; Hermann Prey (baritone) – Fritz, the Pierrot; Gabriele Fuchs (soprano) – Juliette, dancer; Patricia Clark (soprano) - Lucienne, dancer; Anton de Ridder (tenor) – Gaston, dancer / Victorin, stage director; Willi Brokmeier (tenor) – Count Albert
Bavarian Radio Chorus
Tölzer Boys Choir
Munich Radio Orchestra / Erich Leinsdorf
rec. June 1975, Concert hall of Bavarian Radio, Munich. ADD
Texts not included
DUTTON EPOCH 2CDLX7376 SACD [69:51 + 67:34]
This justly famous Korngold recording was originally issued by RCA Victor. Dutton have now licensed the recording and reissued it, remastered for SACD. Back in 2002 my colleague, Ian Lace wrote an article for MusicWeb International in which he compared and contrasted the Leinsdorf audio recording with what was then a newly issued DVD release, which he thought was inferior to the Leinsdorf. Ian’s article is well worth consulting, not least because in addition to commenting on both recordings, he provided a great deal of background information about the opera as well as a full explanation of the plot.
The author of the libretto of Die tote Stadt was one Paul Schott. As Christopher Palmer explains in his very fine booklet essay, the identity of the librettist remained a mystery until New York City Opera revived Die tote Stadt in 1975 when it became known that the name of Paul Schott was in fact a pseudonym for Korngold and his father, Julius. Their libretto was an adaptation – a pretty free adaptation - of the short Symbolist novel Bruges la Morte (1892) by the Belgian poet and author, Georges Rodenbach (1855-1898), which Rodenbach later adapted for a play entitled Le Mirage. The key change which the Korngolds made – the idea was Julius Korngold’s – was to make most of the opera into a dream sequence. This means that Paul strangles Marietta in the dream but not in real life; consequently, the opera can avoid a wholly tragic ending. In his aforementioned article, Ian Lace outlined the plot of the opera in considerable detail. I can’t better his exposition of what is quite a complex plot so I will refer readers to Ian’s piece and instead will concentrate in this review on the Leinsdorf-led performance and the recording itself.
Actually, mention of the plot is a good cue to comment on the documentation accompanying this Dutton set. Unfortunately, there is no libretto or translation. Against that, Dutton do score with their documentation in other respects. Ian Lace lamented RCA’s lack of any worthwhile notes about the opera itself but the same charge can’t be laid at Dutton’s door. Their booklet includes a thorough synopsis and also a very detailed essay about Korngold and about Die tote Stadt. There are also two very significant additional essays. One is a reproduction of an extensive article, originally published by Gramophone magazine in 1976, about the making of the recording. This is by the conductor Charles Gerhardt who acted as producer for this recording. There’s also an eloquent contribution by Maria Jeritza, for whom the role of Marietta / Marie was conceived. She didn’t take part in either of the opera’s simultaneous premieres (in Hamburg and Cologne) in December 1920 but she did perform the role a few weeks later in the Vienna premiere and she reprised it in New York the following November as her Met debut (the opera’s US premiere).
The two principal – nay, dominant – roles in Die tote Stadt are those of Paul and Marietta / Marie. Before considering how those characters are portrayed in this recording, I should say a little about the subsidiary roles. All the singers do well but three caught my ear. Hermann Prey is very good as Pierrot.
To him falls one of the opera’s ‘plums’, namely ‘Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen’ (Pierrot’s Lied) in Act II. Prey delivers this with honeyed tone, singing with suitably sentimental warmth. In the closing section of this number Prey is joined by a semi chorus of eight sopranos who, in Christopher Palmer’s memorable phrase, “make a delicious jam of rich, succulent plum”. The ladies’ singing fits Palmer’s description to a tee.
Benjamin Luxon takes the role of Paul’s friend, Paul. In his contributions at the start of Act I and then right at the end of the opera, Luxon impresses, singing with firm, clear tone. He makes a telling contribution to the Act II confrontation with Paul. Of this Christopher Palmer says “[r]arely can jealousy and suspicion have been transmuted into musical terms quite so harrowingly”. Luxon combines with René Kollo to make this a scene of searing intensity. Also impressive is Rose Wagemann who takes the role of Brigitta. In fact, hers is the very first voice we hear and her warm tone and expressive way with the music register with the listener at once. During the course of the opera, she displays a super top register; the middle and lower registers of her voice are excellently produced as well. She makes a fine and characterful Brigitta.
The two principal roles are hugely demanding. In the booklet Charles Gerhardt writes that Marietta / Marie needs “a singer who can be as light and coquettish as Musetta and as dramatic as Elektra”. On this occasion, the role was taken by the American Carol Neblett (1946-2017). I’m not entirely sure that she quite captures the coquettish aspect of the role but, my goodness, she’s on top of the other dramatic and vocal requirements. She combines with René Kollo in a rapturous rendition of the opera’s other big number, ‘Glück, das mir verblieb’ (the Lute Song). She’s thrillingly intense in the scene with Paul in Act II (disc 2, tr 2) and then in the long Act III confrontation between the two which leads to the dream’s grisly dénouement, Neblett ensures that sparks really fly. When she sings as Marie her voice is heard as if in a different, echoing acoustic which works well in an audio recording to reinforce the point that Marie in no longer of this world. Neblett runs the full spectrum of the role’s requirements from voluptuous tone to spitting anger. She’s undaunted by the passages of cruelly demanding tessitura. My only cavil is that her words are rarely distinct.
That’s not a charge one can level at René Kollo, whose diction is consistently clear. I’m not sure that the role of Paul isn’t even more demanding than the soprano lead. To quote Charles Gerhardt again: “The tenor has pages and pages of tessitura best suited for a Lohengrin or Otello voice, and must then intersperse passages sung with a sweet Tauber-like timbre”. The tessitura is frequently punishing and, unsurprisingly, even Kollo, who was 37 at the time of these sessions, occasionally sounds under pressure. Nonetheless, he rises heroically to Korngold’s many challenges, often singing with suitably ringing ardour. In the long confrontational scene with Marietta in Act III Kollo is fully invested in the drama and sings with great passion. Passion of a different kind is required in his Act II exchanges with Marietta and Kollo delivers ardently. He’s also very sensitive at times and his reprise of ‘Glück, das mir verblieb’ at the very end of Act III is moving. I found his assumption of the role was very convincing.
Korngold’s score is amazingly accomplished and inventive. His handling of a huge orchestra is superb and full of confidence. Time and again, imaginative orchestral colours vie with the voices for the listener’s attention – the orchestra is a genuine protagonist in this work, commenting on and advancing the action. Many passages put me in mind of André Previn’s shrewd comment relating Korngold’s concert and operatic music to his later Hollywood scores. Previn observed “Actually, the vocabulary of his music didn’t change [after he began working in Hollywood]; it was just that the lushness of his harmonies and his extraordinary orchestrations lent themselves readily to motion pictures…. What it actually comes down to is that a great deal of film music began to sound like Korngold, as opposed to Korngold sounding like Hollywood.” If you listen to a passage in Die tote Stadt such as the Prelude to Act II where Korngold graphically depicts Paul’s inner turmoil, the accuracy of Previn’s comment is readily apparent: here was a composer ideally suited to Hollywood long before the movie moguls came knocking on his door. Throughout this performance the Munich Radio Orchestra play out of their collective skins. The many sumptuous passages are richly hued and opulent; elsewhere, the tautly dramatic episodes benefit from highly incisive playing. It seems to me that Erich Leinsdorf is in full command of the score – and in sympathy with it. His conducting is superb and he brings out the best in his performers and the best in the score. It’s worth noting, incidentally, that, at Charles Gerhardt’s insistence, this, the opera’s first recording, was made without any of the customary cuts; we hear Korngold’s complete score.
And what a recording it is. I did most of my listening to the stereo layer of these SACDs using good quality headphones; both through loudspeakers and headphones the results were extremely impressive. The stereo analogue recording was remixed by Decca after the sessions in quadrophonic sound. Now it has been remastered as an SACD recording by Michael J Dutton, who has worked from the original analogue tapes. The original recording was a co-production between RCA Victor and Bavarian Radio. I strongly suspect that the engineer, Alfons Seebacher worked for Bavarian Radio. All I can say is that he did a fantastic job. The sound has terrific depth and impact and allows all the intricacies and opulence of Korngold’s orchestral scoring to register with the listener. The voices are clearly caught. There’s a wide dynamic range, meaning that the quiet passages are clearly heard while the many huge climaxes open up superbly. I don’t have a copy of the previous RCA Victor CDs, let alone the original 3-LP set; however, I doubt very much that the recording has ever sounded as handsome and imposing as it does here. The recording is nearly 46 years old but you’d never know. To accommodate the recording on two SACDs it’s necessary to change discs partway through Act II. That’s a pity, but the break point is at the place where it is least damaging. Incidentally, the bells of Bruges were represented by the bells of St Alban‘s Cathedral, Hertfordshire. The sound of those bells was seamlessly integrated by the RCA/Decca engineers.
This first recording of Die tote Stadt was a major achievement and we can now experience it, thrillingly renewed, on these two SACDs. All Korngold devotees should acquire this release as a matter of urgency and that probably applies even if you have the CD incarnation of the recording.
John Quinn
