The less-well-known operas of Richard Strauss
A survey by Ralph Moore
This survey was prompted by a suggestion made by Jeff H on the MusicWeb Message Board. It set me thinking, but I immediately encountered a problem: whereas I found it fairly easy to determine which of Massenet’s operas are neglected, with Richard Strauss, that definition is not so clear cut – especially as I am something of a Strauss geek, love most of his operas and think I am right in saying that even the more obscure works are generally more often recorded and performed than the Cinderellas of Massenet’s oeuvre. I have already produced surveys of the seven most popular: Der Rosenkavalier, Arabella, Ariadne auf Naxos, Capriccio, Elektra, Die Frau ohne Schatten and Salome; you may access them here. However, Strauss wrote fifteen completed operas and left one unfinished: the Singspiel – Des Esels Schatten (The Donkey’s Shadow), from 1947. There is only one recording of it on the Koch Schwann label and I quote here, with acknowledgments, Patrick Carnegy’s review on the BBC Music Magazine website:
“This curious little hybrid fleshes out the bones of a Singspiel left unfinished by Strauss at his death in 1949. It was commissioned in 1947 from the 82-year-old composer by the headmaster of his grandson’s Benedictine school as ‘an outline of your musical world… an initiation to your greater works’. Strauss’s sketches were duly completed by the school’s music director, Karl Haussner, and first performed there in 1964.
For this premiere recording, Peter Ustinov links the musical numbers with his own droll account of Wieland’s satirical tale of a legal squabble about whether anyone paying for a donkey ride is also entitled to its shadow without further payment. There are intimations of Straussian joie de vivre in the overture and 14 little numbers, especially in the judge’s waltz-time oration, but Rickenbacher’s orchestra sounds uncomfortably larger than the chamber ensemble envisaged by Haussner. Delightfully sung by an excellent adult cast, you’re left wondering how the work could ever be performed by children. Full marks for notes reproducing Strauss’s correspondence with the school and his two librettists.”
I quote here, too, to a lukewarm review by Frank Cadenhead back in 2004:
“Des Esels Schatten (The Donkey’s Shadow) is a work Strauss composed as a present for the school his grandson attended, the Abbey of Ettal in Bavaria, in 1948. Taken from a 1774 satire which takes place in 400 BC Greece, it is thin on humor and lacking any significant satirical bite. Yet the drama, with Strauss’ incidental music which accompanies it (about 25 minutes or so), was fully translated into French, the music re-orchestrated and given two staged performances at the Charles Garnier-designed Opéra Comédie.”
It may be heard in its entirety on YouTube. I have listened so you don’t have to; in truth, it is a slight thing of very little interest, not of the stature of Strauss’ “proper” operas, containing only twenty-five minutes of music nett of the dialogue, sung by mediocre singers.
The remaining eight are decidedly rare – or at least rarer than Strauss’ established “hits”:
Guntram (1894)
Feuersnot (1901)
Intermezzo (1924)
Die ägyptische Helena (1928)
Die schweigsame Frau (1935)
Friedenstag (1938)
Daphne (1938)
Die Liebe der Danae (1944, premiered 1952)
Here I must simply default to personal opinion regarding their respective merits; please feel free to demur as I am no supreme arbiter but here is how I assess them and their respective recordings. We may quickly dispense with what is probably the least performed of them: Intermezzo – and not without good reason; it is very wordy and does not easily “export”; ironically, by far the best things about it are its four orchestral symphonic intermezzi, which are vintage Strauss – wonderfully lush and colourful. It really is a “Strauss connoisseur’s opera” as my colleague Mike Parr observes in his excellent review and in any case, there is only one studio recording from 1980, conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch with a cast clearly superior to that of any of the live performances, headed by Lucia Popp and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau. Likewise, I fear that with the exception of its Prelude – which Mahler conducted several times in concert – I find Guntram wholly unlistenable; it is possibly the single most boring opera by a major composer I otherwise love, with the exception of Robert Schumann’s Genoveva – and Strauss, too, eventually came to hold the same opinion, His first failed attempt in the genre was atypical of his own idiom, being essentially an immature homage to Wagner. After that promising start, it’s downhill all the way. If you must subject yourself to hearing it, the recording giving it the best advocacy is Gustav Kuhn’s live composite performance from 1998 headed by Alan Woodrow and Elisabeth-Maria Wachutka – or possibly the sole studio version conducted by Eve Queler with Reiner Goldberg and Ilona Tokody, recorded in Hungary in 1985 – but honestly, it is a real neo-Wagnerian slog containing very little which is memorable.
That leaves six operas which I think exhibit qualities ranging between “being of passing interest only” and “having real merit” and I tackle them in chronological order. I give priority to more modern studio recordings, of which only Daphne has had two; Die schweigsame Frau has had one and a film soundtrack; three have received just the one studio recording and Die Liebe der Danae none at all. Only if a live, vintage or radio broadcast is of sufficient quality, or is the sole or better option, am I willing to recommend it over a studio version. I do not pretend to comprehensiveness but have tried not to omit any old or live performance which can legitimately challenge a studio recording.
The Recordings:
Feuersnot
1978, live composite, stereo, Mitridate Ponto
Berliner Rundfunk-Sinfonie-Orchester/Erich Leinsdorf
RIAS Kammerchor
Diemut – Gundula Janowitz
Kunrad – John Shirley-Quirk
Ortlof Sentlinger – Helmut Berger-Tuna
Kunz Gilgenstock – Josef Becker
Schweiker von Gundelfingen – Helmut Krebs
Elsbeth – Barbara Scherler
Wigelis – Marie Jose Brill
Margret – Carole Malone
Jörg Pöschel – Klaus Lang
Hämerlein – Walton Grönroos
Kofel – Shogo Miyahara
Ortlieb Tulbeck – Karl-Ernst Mercker
Ursula – Gabriele Schreckenbach
Ruger Aspeck – Wolf Appel
Walpurg – Madalena de Faria
Derived from two concert performances, this enjoys excellent sound for a live recording –- indistinguishable from a studio version – and the presence of both Leinsdorf and Shirley-Quirk in a recording made in Berlin comes as something of a surprise; furthermore, if your tastes are anything like mine, you are happy to hear Gundula Janowitz sing virtually anything. Unfortunately, not many of the supporting cast have voices which fall particularly gratefully upon the ear; quite a few are rough and ready bellowers while the tenors are generally weedy. However, the children’s choir we first hear sings charmingly and with spirit, and Shirly-Quirk is in especially good voice: rich and dark, coping easily with the wide tessitura of his role, which is evidently designed for just such a bass-baritone as his. He makes the most of his big outbursts “Feuersnot!” and the concluding diatribe against the retrograde narrowmindedness of the citizens – a thinly disguised embodiment of Strauss’ resentment of those who first rejected Wagner’s then his own music.
Janowitz sings her own extended quasi-aria “Mittsommernacht” divinely. Her long, floated top A on “Ach, der mich wollt’ erwählen” (Oh, who would choose me) is a thing of wonder. The female chorus is excellent, too ,and Carole Malone’s pure soprano as Margret stands out, while Diemut’s three companions have music strongly reminiscent of that of the Rhinemaidens.
Leinsdorf’s conducting is very good; he imparts plenty of spring and liveliness to this predominately jolly score, holding it all together, rarely letting tension slacken except where that is desirable, in the most admired passage, the love duet or rather, for reasons the plot summary explains, the “non-love duet”. His grip over ensembles concluding the opera is firm; they are crisp, co-ordinated and powerful – something of an extended tour de force. The final ecstatic duet and chorus is preceded by a lovely orchestral passage which is Strauss at his best and provides a showcase for the warmth and virtuosity of the BRSO.
Christopher Howell favourably reviewed this back in 2005. You can hear it on YouTube.
1984, studio, digital, Acanta
Münchner Rundfunkorchester/Heinz Fricke
Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks – Tölzer Singerknaben
Diemut – Julia Varady
Kunrad – Bernd Weikl
Ortlof Sentlinger – Helmut Berger-Tuna
Kunz Gilgenstock – Keith Engen
Schweiker von Gundelfingen – Hans-Dieter Bade
Elsbeth – Ruthild Engert(-Ely)
Wigelis – Kaja Borris
Margret – Elisabeth-Maria Wachutka
Jörg Pöschel – Manfred Schenk
Hämerlein – Raimund Grumbach
Kofel – Waldemar Wild
Ortlieb Tulbeck – Friedrich Lenz
Ursula – Marga Schiml
Ruger Aspeck – Willi Brokmeier
Walpurg – Andrea Trauboth
A Maiden – Carmen Anhorn
This is the only studio recording and it comes with a German-only libretto but a detailed plot synopsis is of considerable help to the listener in following the action.
It is immediately noticeable that the Tölzer Singerknaben are rather well-mannered compared with the Berlin crowd, sounding like public schoolboys rather than town urchins – but then the shimmering beauty of Julia Varady’s shimmering soprano reminds us that Gundula Janowitz is not the only soprano whose voice is one to drink in. It is also noticeable that there are rather more voices of quality in the supporting cast than in Berlin – some of whom were already, or became, noteworthy singers – but by no means every singer is an aural treat; here, too, are some bleaters and growlers. It might be a studio recording, but the sound is not as vivid as Leinsdorf’s live concert performance and that conductor, too, injects more spring and life into the score than the merely competent Heinz Fricke. The massive concluding ensembles are also rather careful and polite; they simply do not take off in the way they do under Leinsdorf.
Bernd Weikl is the other star of the show. I am an admirer of his earlier recordings such as his Eugene Onegin for Solti , but a pulse soon crept into his baritone and I am no fan of his later recordings, even in signature roles such as Hans Sachs. Indeed, you may already hear that beat in his tone – the oscillation between pitches in his vibrato is too wide and it disturbs the line and legato; Shirley-Quirk is steadier and more even-toned. Weikl finds drama in his “Feuersnot!”, however, and he easily encompasses the tessitura of the role. Varady is very appealing in “Mittsommernacht!” and the ensuing duet, expanding on that top A impressively, but she is not necessarily superior to Janowitz. You see where I am going with this; in truth, I hang on to my set just for the German libretto but listen by preference to Leinsdorf.
However, there is also this newer recording to consider…
2014, live, digital, CPO
Munich Radio Orchestra/Ulf Schirmer
Chorus of Bavarian Radio; Gärtnerplatz State Theatre Children’s Chorus
Diemut – Simone Schnieder
Kunrad – Markus Eiche
Ortlof Sentlinger – Lars Woldt
Kunz Gilgenstock – Ludwig Mittelhammer
Schweiker von Gundelfingen – Rouwen Huther
Elsbeth – Monica Mascus
Wigelis – Sandra Janke
Margret – Olena Tokor
Jörg Pöschel – Wilhelm Schwinghammer
Hämerlein – Michael Kupfer
Kofel – Andreas Burkart
Ortlieb Tulbeck – Song Sun Min
Ursula – Marga Schiml
Ruger Aspeck – Joachim Roth
Walpurg – Catalina Bertucci
A Maiden – Arabella Wäscher
My MusicWeb colleague Paul Corfield Godfrey favourably reviewed this in 2015 and suggested that it was the best option. It has a number of advantages: excellent sound, alert conducting, a wonderful orchestra – sample the “Zwischenspiel” – a fine, if again, rather “churchy” children’s choir – and some – I stress the word – nice singing, some not so impressive, with too many wobblers. Markus Eiche as Kunrad is pleasant but a bit throaty and undistinguished; he sound to me like a tenor singing baritone and he hasn’t half the voice of Shirley-Quirk or Weikl; “Feuersnot!” is really weak. Simone Schnieder has a fuller, fruitier voice than Janowitz or Varady and is clearly the best thing in this performance but does not suggest much in the way of an ethereal, youthful charm.
This issue does provide a German text and English translation but even that and the accumulation of its virtues are insufficient to sway my preference away from Leinsdorf, Janowitz and Shirley-Quirk as exponents of the best conducting and singing respectively – and even a greater sense of drama and theatricality, despite it being derived only from concert performances.
Die ägyptische Helena
This opera came after Intermezzo which in turn followed a whole slew of huge successes for Strauss, but the popularity of neither work replicated that of their predecessors. There’s no question about it: it is absolutely bonkers with its talking, omniscient mussel and its four elves who go, “Ki!” like Monty Python’s knights who say “Ni!”, but surely disdain for its supposed incongruities is misplaced. It started as an operetta but gradually mutated into a vehicle for one of the librettist’s and composer’s favourite themes: the trials of conjugal love with a classical/mythical bent, in which the woman takes a courageous decision which pays off. I rather revel in its uncertain tone that frustrates and irritates others and enjoy the way it blends some stock operatic gestures – magic potions, manipulative goddesses, destructive love at first sight, secluded islands, manic oriental chieftains and the like – with 20C Freudian psychology. Even the ending is ambivalent; unlike Dick Johnson and Minnie, the newly reconciled couple accept each other’s frailties, then mount and ride off into an uncertain future despite the affirmation of Strauss’ music. In any case, much of the music is simply glorious, if also intermittently diffuse – sample the last twenty minutes of Act I for Strauss at his best.
1956, live, mono, Orfeo, Opera d’Oro
Orchestra & Chorus – Bayerische Staatsoper/Joseph Keilberth
Helena – Leonie Rysanek
Menelaus – Bernd Aldenhoff
Hermione – Luise Camer
Aithra – Annelies Kupper
Altair – Hermann Uhde
Da-Ud – Richard Holm
Die alles-wissendes Muschel – Ira Malaniuk
1. Dienerin Aithras – Lilian Benningsen
2. Dienerin Aithras – Antonia Fahberg
4 Elfen:
– Lotte Schädle
– Doris Pilling
– Gertrud Friedrich
– Gertrud Vollath
The muddy, over-reverberant mono sound – often so poor that words are indistinct – coughing and clumping, means that this cannot be a first recommendation but this is a performance blazing with energy and enshrines one of Leonie Rysanek’s best roles. She tends to slide and “low” a bit at first but the sheer amplitude of her sound is striking; her top notes are laser-like and she makes the most of the erotic nature of Strauss’ music and Hofmannsthal’s similarly suggestive text. The rest of the cast is good, especially Ira Malaniuk’s booming “omniscient seashell”. Annelies Kupper as Aithra has a powerful, if rather edgy, soprano. Bernd Aldenhoff’s Heldentenor is likewise robust if not especially expressive or ingratiating of tone and his vibrato can sometimes be too pronounced.
Keilberth proves to be surprisingly suited to the sensuousness of the score, never rushing the charged, languorous exchanges between Menelaus and Helena but engendering considerable excitement in moments of high drama. There are few set-piece arias as such; it is mostly through-composed and while not a lot of the music is especially memorable, it is highly coloured, moving the narrative along swiftly. Unfortunately, the effect of big moments, such as Helen’s awakening towards the end of Act I and the ensuing ensemble, is compromised by the poor sound – but Aldenhoff rises nobly to the great climax, “Welch eine Mutter, welch eine Schwester, bring’ ich dir heim!” (What a mother, what sister, I bring home to you!”) and the orchestra postlude are still wonderful.
Act II opens with the most famous passage, “Zweite Brautnacht” – which is an aria of sorts – and despite being set far back in the sound picture, Rysanek delivers it radiantly, prompting a spontaneous round of applause. Hermann Uhde as Altair makes considerable impact with his lean, incisive bass-baritone and tenor Richard Holm similarly impresses in his brief appearance as Da-Ud.
Although it is explicitly stated, this appears to be the revised version of 1933, as there are no cuts to the first act but there is some extra glorious music for the duo of Helena and Menelaus and the trio of principal singers towards the end of Act II, between “Mein Geliebter!” and ”Weib, tritt hinweg!”; otherwise, it has everything in the original 1928 version and more – although I thought that some cuts and re-orderings of sections were imposed upon the 1933 version. Maybe someone can tell me?
This can at best be only a supplement to a modern recording but those tolerant of mono sound will want it for Rysanek’s tour de force and Keilberth’s splendid conducting.
(Opera d’Oro’s basic issue is just that but its Grand Tier edition comes with a complete bilingual libretto, liners notes and photos. Orfeo also provide a libretto, but oddly, its mono sound is somewhat duller and less agreeable than Opera d’Oro’s; it has probably been over-processed.)
1970, live, stereo, RCA
Orchestra – Wiener Philharmoniker/Josef Krips
Chorus – Wiener Staatsoper
Helena – Gwyneth Jones
Menelaus – Jess Thomas
Hermione – Edita Gruberova
Aithra – Mimi Coertse
Altair – Peter Glossop
Da-Ud – Peter Schreier
Die alles-wissendes Muschel – Margarita Lilowa
1. Dienerin Aithras – Ruthilde Boesch
2. Dienerin Aithras – Margarethe Sjöstedt
4 Elfen:
– Liselotte Maikl
– Laurence Dutoit
– Anny Felbermayer
– Dagmar Hermann
The sound here is startlingly good even if the voices are a little recessed compared with the orchestra – but with this orchestra and conductor one hardly minds and after battling with the cloudy sound of the previous recording this clarity comes as a pleasant change. Apart from a few coughs, some stage thumps and the slight imbalance between pit and stage, this is almost of studio standard.
The first two voices we hear are first class: Mimi Coertse is bright and pure, very agile in her coloratura, and Margarita Lilowa is suitably dark and trenchant. There is always the question with Gwyneth Jones whether The Wobble will be present but it immediately becomes clear that she is in good voice, even if the vibrato will always be too pronounced for some tastes. For instance, I do find the pulse in Jones’ voice at the start of “Zweite Brautnacht” a bit off-putting but conversely her top C before the arrival of the horsemen at the beginning of Act II is terrific; she is oddly inconsistent. Jess Thomas’ tenor is at first somewhat dominated by the sheer amplitude of Jones’ soprano and he takes a while to sing himself in but then all is well even if he hasn’t the juiciest tone. Peter Glossop is a stern Altair and has the vocal range even if his baritone turns a bit constricted at times; Peter Schreier as Da-Ud is…Peter Schreier…
Krips conducting and the VPO’s playing are lovely; the scene of shimmering string, horn and wind solos when the sleeping, newly rejuvenated Helen is revealed to Menelaus is exquisitely played and Thomas’ legato singing here is also admirable and thereafter his voice is fuller; all three singers are at their best for the ecstatic culmination of the first act. This is the passage I would suggest Strauss-lovers sample to get the measure of this recording; it bears all the hallmarks of the composer’s genius operating to maximum effect. The conclusion to the whole opera itself is almost as stirring, with a magnificent trio for the three principals and the coup de theatre of the appearance of the phalanx of armed men framing the child Hermione dressed in gold seated upon a white horse.
This is the original, 1928 version but there are a few, short cuts. They are not materially damaging but will annoy purists.
1979, studio, stereo, Decca
Detroit Symphony Orchestra/Antal Dorati
Kenneth Jewell Chorale
Helena – Gwyneth Jones
Menelaus – Matti Kastu
Hermione – Dinah Bryant
Aithra – Barbara Hendricks
Altair – Willard White
Da-Ud – Curtis Rayam
Die alles-wissendes Muschel – Birgit Finnilä
1. Dienerin Aithras – Betty Lane
2. Dienerin Aithras – Glenda Kirkland
4 Elfen:
– Dinah Bryant
– Patti Dell
– Maria Cimarelli
– Katherine Grimshaw
Again, this opera has received only one studio recording and sadly it is handicapped by the inadequacy of Matti Kastu in the lead tenor role; his voice is too small and his tone is dry. This is a pity, because the casting is otherwise mostly very attractive, especially Barbara Hendricks magical Aithra – but there are others who are very good in that role, Willard White is stretched by the tessitura of the role of Altair and we may hear the best of Gwyneth Jones in the live performance under Krips.
My colleague Mike Parr recently reviewed this rather more generously than I am inclined to do. It is the full 1928 score.
2001, live, digital, Dynamic
Orchestra & Chorus – Teatro Lirico di Cagliari/Gérard Korsten
Helena – Vitalija Blinstrubyte
Menelaus – Stephen O’Mara
Hermione – Giulia Mattana
Aithra – Yelda Kodalli
Altair – Johannes von Duisburg
Da-Ud – Ulfried Haselsteiner
Die alles-wissendes Muschel – Regina Mauel
1. Dienerin Aithras – Helen Field
2. Dienerin Aithras – Paola Pellicciari
4 Elfen:
– Brunella Bellome
– Stefania Donzelli
– Julia Oesch
– Anna Maria Nobili
This was the recording whereby I came to know this opera and that was a fortunate choice because not all Dynamic live issues of performances from the Cagliari Festival reach this standard. Everything about it is great: the sound, singing, conducting and orchestral playing are all really fine. It’s starts very promisingly with a delightful oboe solo and poised singing from Turkish soprano Yelda Kodalli. She is on top of the role’s coloratura demands. Regina Mauel is a stentorian Omniscient Seashell – faintly laboured but good enough. Helen Field as the First Maidservant has volume and a slightly over-pronounced vibrato – but that isn’t a real problem. Sometimes the orchestra is overloud but that is a passing issue, too, and all the singers’ have excellent German diction, despite being an “international” cast. Vitalija Blinstrubyte and Stephen O’Mara make a really impressive warring married couple: her voice has a fast, flickering quality and is intrinsically beautifully with soaring top notes, only occasionally a little squally; he has a lean, grainy, penetrative tenor. Their rapport – or rather lack of it, at the opening – is vividly depicted. I am surprised that she hasn’t had a bigger career or discography; by contrast, late-starter and Beverly Sills’ protégé O’Mara sang widely and I heard him live in London. His voice was not huge but was neat, virile and even, and he had a serviceable top B and C; sadly, he died in 2022, aged only sixty. He really makes the most of his passionate outburst in track 14.
There are many lovely moments in this performance which is consistently light and engaging. One such is when the sopranos intertwine, such as the exchange between Aithra and Helena centring on the top C on “Zauberin! Schönste!” – the voices sound very similar but hence blend exquisitely. She gives her showpiece aria sensuous allure, sufficient to match and rival accounts by Rysanek, Jones and Voigt.
Gérard Korsten directs a really propulsive performance, often driving the music forward arrestingly but relaxing for the lyrical interludes. Orchestras for festivals can sometimes be “scratch” or “pick-up” bands but this is no “make-do” affair; the playing is really alert and stylish. The big “reveal” moment showing the sleeping Helena and the whole of the rest of the act are absolutely thrilling. Passages like the mourning music for Da-Ud played by low strings and brass are really sonorous, too – it is hard to believe that this was not a studio recording.
The supporting cast is fine: Johannes von Duisburg is a dark, menacing, if very slightly unwieldy, Altair; I have heard more seductive and youthful-voiced tenors as Da-Ud than Ulfried Haselsteiner but he is sturdy enough and the role is small.
There is virtually no extraneous noise despite this being live. I love this recording; this is what happens when everything comes together to produce a great performance – and in this case, it is from an unexpected source. It also serves as a fitting memorial to Stephen O’Mara, who sings his heart out in the finale.
2002, live, digital, Telarc
American Symphony Orchestra/Leon Botstein
New York Concert Chorale
Helena – Deborah Voigt
Menelaus – Carl Tanner
Hermione – Kathleen Ritch
Aithra – Celena Shafer
Altair – Christopher Robertson
Da-Ud – Eric Cutler
Die alles-wissendes Muschel – Jill Grove
1. Dienerin Aithras – Tamara Mesic
2. Dienerin Aithras – Elizabeth Batton
4 Elfen:
– Sharla Nafziger
– Kathleen Ritch
– Teresa Bucholz
– BJ Fredricks
This live recording in the Avery Fisher Hall has a very open, resonant acoustic – rather oddly so, in fact, compared with other live recordings but the ear soon adjusts, especially as the casting is evidently so good. Celena Shafer is vocally perhaps the most even and consistent Aithra on record, but without the personality of some rivals; even the First Maidservant is top quality – a weakness in some recordings. Jill Grove’s All-knowing Mussel is richly satisfying.
The virtuosity of the conducting and orchestra is much in evidence, too, both in ensemble and in solos such as those by the first oboe in the opening. The entrance of the warring husband and wife is less violent and hysterical than in some productions; instead, we the listeners may luxuriate in the sheer heft of Carl Tanner’s virile tenor and Voigt’s effulgent soprano, enhanced by Botstein’s languorous tempi. Somehow, too, the American Symphony Orchestra sounds bigger and grander than any other – but that presumably has something to do with the engineers. In fact, the mood throughout the whole performance is grand, dream-like and luxurious – the action seems to be held at arm’s length. However, the sheer amplitude of Voigt’s voice in particular is an absolute joy; at her peak, as per here, she was a very great singer, especially in Strauss. Tanner more or less keeps up with her but ducks the high C at the end of his duet with Helena in the first act.
That emphasis upon an otherworldly atmosphere accounts for why the climax of Act I here comes off so well, as Menelaus contemplates the dream which is the sleeping Helena. The eleven chorus, Shafer and Tanner are all very good here: they are vivacious, she sparkles, and he is firm and impassioned, and meanwhile Voigt continues to spin huge top notes tirelessly. The conclusion, however, is not quite as rousing as Korsten’s in Cagliari, even though Botstein lovingly caresses those final, magical chord changes.
Voigt matches Leontyne Price in “Zweite Brautnacht” for opulence – in fact, I rather prefer her over anybody else here. The ensuing duet between Helena and Menelaus is probably the best sung in any set. Christopher Robertson is the best Altair since Hermann Uhde – and the same is true of Eric Cutler who in his brief appearance makes more of Da-Ud’s music than any other tenor I have heard – and Botstein nicely brings out the plangent beauty of the little ear-worm riff that accompanies Da-Ud’s “So steht es geschrieben, und so wird es geschehn” (So it is written, and so it will be) – and reappears in a minor key variation after his death, gloriously played here as if it were Siegfried’s Funeral March.
The finale, however, just misses out on the “goosebump factor”, despite Voigt’s shining top notes; Tanner intermittently disappears under the orchestral blast and Botstein doesn’t quite generate the voltage of Korsten’s version. In short, although this is better cast than, and as well sung as, any of the alternatives I am surveying, it is pipped at the post for excitement by Korsten.
Die schweigsame Frau
A central question when assessing recordings of this comic opera – which essentially shares the same plot as Don Pasquale – is how much of the original score do we actually want to hear? There seems to be a consensus that It can stand some judicious cutting as Strauss seemed to have lost his grip on his normally acute sense of theatrical timing and been unable to let go while composing; the only recording here to give us the full shebang at just under three hours is Janowski’s – and it’s too long. It doesn’t help that it is probably the least engagingly sung of the lot, too. No one recording below has the same running time as another, so I must just throw up my hands and ask, which works best? After all, it has many virtues which I think are unacknowledged – or at least under-valued. It is sharp, witty, full of fleeting tunes and mercurial wit, has a lovely love duet and four juicy roles for the principals.
Back in 2013, I dismissed Frank Beermann’s live recording on CPO of “the Dresden version” as generally sub-par; however, I refer you to that review for some background and my thoughts on the opera itself. I should also mention in passing the highlights disc conducted by Heinz Wallberg that I recently reviewed; it is a pity that wasn’t a complete recording. That leaves these four in the running:
1959, live, mono, DG
Wiener Philharmoniker/Karl Böhm
Chorus – Wiener Staatsoper
Sir Morosus – Hans Hotter
Haushälterin – Georgine von Milinkovic
Der Barbier – Hermann Prey
Henry Morosus – Fritz Wunderlich
Aminta – Hilde Güden
Isotta – Pierrette Alarie
Carlotta – Hetty Plümacher
Morbio – Josef Knapp
Vanuzzi – Karl Dönch
Farfallo – Alois Pernerstorfer
If they know this work at all, most lovers of Strauss’ operas will have been introduced to it via this recording, it being one of a slew of live Vienna and Salzburg Festival recordings made by his friend and champion Karl Böhm in the 1940s, 50s and 60s – and he premiered the work in 1935. Being mono, it is sonically far from ideal but it is perfectly listenable, the cast is distinguished and the DG box set provides an essential libretto with an English translation. At just under two and a half hours, this has been cut by nearly half an hour’s worth of music – but that probably isn’t as big a loss as it sounds; there are longueurs in the complete original which need to be cut.
The sheer drive of Böhm’s direction of the pot-pourri overture tells you this is going to be a thoroughly committed performance. It is often noisy and confused-sounding but never dull. Prey is fluent and adept with both his alternating spoken and sung dialogue, his light baritone contrastingly neatly with Hotter’s booming, cavernous tones. Melodies come and go; first we hear first version of the beautiful tune of which snatches recur at the end of the act and with which Morosus concludes the opera, and Hotter intones “Ich bin zu alt” (I am too old) touchingly and trenchantly, then Prey trips neatly through his little canzonetta “Mädchen, nur”; the entrance of Fritz Wunderlich completes an ideal trio of very different voices. Hilde Güden’s pure, soaring soprano adds another dimension and the sparkling ensembles are a delight despite the crumbly sound. Their soaring love duets with top Bs, Cs and D flats – echoed by the sleeping Morosus four octaves beneath her – such as that ending Act II are a joy – and of course Wunderlich copes best with the typically murderous tessitura of the tenor role of Henry.
The final chorus is ebullient. That the wonderous final aria for Morosus be successfully delivered is crucial to our appreciation of this opera – and good as Hotter is here, no one approaches Kurt Moll for pathos and sheer beauty of sound. Still, Hotter is touching and sings very steadily.
1971, live, stereo, Orfeo
Orchestra & Chorus: Bayerische Staatsoper/Wolfgang Sawallisch
Sir Morosus – Kurt Böhme
Haushälterin – Martha Mödl
Der Barbier – Barry McDaniel
Henry Morosus – Donald Grobe
Aminta – Reri Grist
Isotta – Lotte Schädle
Carlotta – Glenys Loulis
Morbio – Albrecht Peter
Vanuzzi – Benno Kusche
Farfallo – Max Proebstl
There is also a film of this production by the Bavarian State Opera in Munich with an identical cast but with one notable exception: Morosus is Kurt Moll in that film; here, live on stage on the 14 July, 1971, he is sung by Kurt Böhme. You my watch the DVD on YouTube; but be aware that both are heavily cut by around 45 minutes.
It is certainly a pleasure to be able to listen in good, clean stereo sound after the narrow, constricted sound of the live Böhm recording and Sawallisch is no less lively a conductor. However, that means stage noises are more prominent, and the singers’ delivery is cruder and broader here, starting with veteran Martha Mödl’s wobbly, shrieking Housekeeper. Although only 63, Kurt Böhme hasn’t a lot of voice left by this stage of his career and rarely just sings straight; he resorts to a lot of groaning, grunting and shouting which makes him both less dignified and less sympathetic than Hotter – nor is his line as steady, even if his low notes are intact. Barry McDaniel is similar in tone to the fleet, neat-voiced Hermann Prey but hasn’t quite Prey’s flexibility with the text. He is the first of a trio of American singers then domiciled and pursuing careers in Germany. Donald Grobe is fine but obviously no Wunderlich, being paler and lighter voiced, and Reri Grist fresh and charming as Aminta but not necessarily superior to Güden.
In truth, nothing except the stereo sound here is demonstrably better than the earlier recording and several things are not as good. Given that it is also even more heavily cut, it is not really much of a contender.
1976-7, studio, stereo, EMI
Dresdner Staatskapelle/Marek Janowski
Chorus – Dresdner Staatsoper
Sir Morosus – Theo Adam
Haushälterin – Annelies Burmeister
Der Barbier – Wolfgang Schöne
Henry Morosus – Eberhard Büchner
Aminta – Jeanette Scovotti
Isotta – Carola Nossek
Carlotta – Trudeliese Schmidt
Morbio – Klaus Hirte
Vanuzzi – Werner Haseleu
Farfallo – Helmut Berger-Tuna
This is the full, uncut opera on three CDs and thus probably more complete than is strictly necessary to the listener’s enjoyment. Otherwise, in many ways the comments I make about the previous recording in comparison with the first mono version apply here, too: obviously the superior stereo, studio sound – the best yet – is an attraction but no singer is preferable to his or her predecessor.
Nonetheless, Janowski goes off like a rocket with the “Pot-pourri” overture and the Dresdner Staatskapelle demonstrates that it is a first-class outfit; it makes for a fizzing start. We immediately hear instrumental and orchestra details obscured by the acoustic of live recordings – and the depth of Strauss’ colourisation is more fully revealed. Annelies Burmeister soon proves to be the Housekeeper easiest on the ear so far and there is no lack of character in her singing and vocal acting. Wolfgang Schöne is not as incisive of voice or as characterful in delivery of the text as either Prey or McDaniel and as soon as Adam sings it’s evident that he lacks the kind of tonal fruitiness Hotter and Moll possess and the beat obtrudes as soon as he puts any pressure on his bass-baritone. His articulation is lively enough but you notice how in sustained, repeated phrases like “Ich bin zu alt”, that wobble creeps in. Nonetheless, I find him preferable to Kurt Böhme. Eberhard Büchner is a bit throaty and constricted, and like every other tenor who undertakes the role of Henry, suffers from the disadvantage of not being Fritz Wunderlich. The ensembles barrel along agreeably but Carola Nossek as Isotta is a bit shrill – and that is also true of Jeanette Scovotti, whose top notes can squeak; she is not bad but no match for Güden or Grist – and I find her fast, rattling vibrato rather hard going. As a result, the love duet ending Act II does not caress the ear as it can, even though the orchestral accompaniment is lovely. A word, however, for the estimable Trudeliese Schmidt’s Carlotta; she is impressively rich-voiced.
A final black mark against this issue – and for being reminded of this I am indebted to my MusicWeb colleague Philip Harrison, through whose good offices I have been able to hear the next, far superior recording below – is that the engineering is problematic: the East German equipment employed was faulty and as a result there are variations in pitch which might not be noticeable to the average ear but will bother purists or those with perfect pitch.
In truth, if there were no alternative, the excellent sound (pitch issues notwithstanding), conducting and ensemble work here would make this an acceptable introduction to the score and we would make do – but we can do better.
1993, radio broadcast, digital, Koch-Schwann
Münchner Rundfunkorchester/Pinchas Steinberg
Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks
Sir Morosus – Kurt Moll
Haushälterin – Reinhild Runkel
Der Barbier – Eike Wilm Schulte
Henry Morosus – Deon Van Der Walt
Aminta – Cyndia Sieden
Isotta – Barbara Kilduff
Carlotta – Iris Vermillion
Morbio – Wolfgang Rauch
Vanuzzi – Alfred Kuhn
Farfallo – Cornelius Hauptmann
At two and a quarter hours, this one probably has it about right, retaining the best music but not risking our boredom. And let me be brief: this recording blows every other one out of the water – so why has it been so long unavailable? Singing, playing, conducting, casting, engineering and presentation are all faultless; Pinchas Steinberg has long been one of the most under-rated conductors in recent history and the playing of his Munich orchestra here reflects his passion for this music.
Reinhild Runkel is a fruity Housekeeper who manages to sound frowsy without being a pain in the ears; Eike Wilm Schulte is a fairly ordinary Barber but wholly unobjectionable – light and nimble as required but with some nice steady, resonant low notes, too. However, the revelation here is the sheer, magisterial authority of Kurt Moll’s incomparably rich bass. He ranges effortlessly from low D-flat to high F-sharp; his voice always falls gratefully upon the ear yet that beauty of utterance is never at the expense of vivid characterisation. He is simply streets ahead of any other Morosus. Tenor Deon van der Walt as his nephew Henry is light and pleasant and easily able to encompass the demands of the high tessitura of the role. Completing a superb line-up of principals is soprano Cyndia Sieden. She has long been pre-eminent in Mozart and Baroque operas but has also excelled in several difficult Strauss roles such as this. Her vocalisation is captivating, especially in the love duet; her floated top notes are dreamy, the top D-flat crystal clear. In the ensemble in the sham marriage scene she actually sings an impossible F-sharp followed by a sustained top E – and makes the phrase musical. She is as much the star here as Kurt Moll. Additionally, the supporting cast features a host of fine young singers such as the bass Cornelius Hauptmann and mezzo-soprano Iris Vermillion; they make a great ensemble, comical but never over-acting; the climax to Act I is terrific.
Of course the climax to the whole work is Morosus’ final aria and it could not be sung more gloriously, or more tenderly, than by Moll here – a fitting end to as close to a perfect recording as one could wish. This is so clearly the plumb amongst the recordings made of this skilful comedy that it is all the more to be regretted that copies are hard to obtain. A re-issue by Universal Classics would be most welcome, either on DG or the Decca Eloquence label, as has been the case with some other Koch Schwann recordings.
Friedenstag
This is undoubtedly one of Strauss’ least popular works. The subject matter is hardly standard operatic fare, being a cri de cœur for peace, mercy and tolerance prompted by the revulsion Strauss felt for his Nazi overlords, despite being ostensibly set in the era of the Thirty Years’ War. The music of the first half before Maria’s entrance is frankly undistinguished and unmemorable; fortunately, thereafter it is much more engaging. There are two older, live performances with distinguished casts conducted by Clemens Krauss and Joseph Keilberth respectively, but the former is in very poor sound and the second barely tolerable. There are only three relatively modern recordings which I consider here.
1988, live, digital, EMI
Sinfonieorchester und Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks/Wolfgang Sawallisch
Chor der Bayerischen Staatsoper
Kommandant – Bernd Weikl
Maria – Sabine Hass
Wachtmeister – Jaako Ryhänen
Konstabel – Jan-Hendrik Rootering
Schütze – Jan Vacik
Musketier – Alfred Kuhn
Hornist – Gerhard Auer
Offizier – Florian Cerny
Piedmonteser – Eduardo Villa
Holsteiner – Kurt Moll
Bürgermeister – Robert Schunk
Prälat – Karl Helm
Frontoffizier – Thomas Woodman
Frau aus dem Volk – Cornelia Wulkopf
First, it must be acknowledged that Sawallisch is here, as ever, wholly dependable and in command, at the helm of one of the three or four great Strauss orchestras. This live performance begins impressively enough when we hear Jaako Ryhänen’s beautiful, resonant bass singing the Sergeant; Edouard Villa’s throaty tenor Piedmontese, however, is less mellifluous and the supporting cast in general isn’t as pleasing as that in the two recordings below; the chorus, too, is at first less incisive. Bernd Weikl in one of the two leading roles does not, to my ears at least, convey sufficient authority as the Commandant; his baritone is constricted and lacking resonance, the vibrato looser than of yore. The difference between his vocalisation and that of the Sergeant when he replies to him is noticeable; Weikl’s voice seems to have little core. The Prelate and Mayor are weakly sung, too; indeed, as every singer makes his or her contribution the disappointment mounts.
The problem is compounded by the fact that the music of the first half of the opera is by no means Strauss’ best and needs better advocacy. The entrance of Sabine Hass after over half an hour of indifferent “note-spinning” signals a palpable improvement in its quality, especially as she is in good form; there is only a hint of the flap which later crept into her voice and marred her Dyer’s Wife for Sinopoli eight years later, not long before her sadly premature death. Here she is powerful and incisive, whereas in their duets Weikl’s baritone is comparatively dwarfed – which is a pity, since Strauss’ hitherto flagging invention decidedly picks up here and is sustained over the last half hour, its effect underlined by the presence of the great Kurt Moll as the enemy Protestant commander and a much more committed choral contribution. The final ensemble and chorus provide the thrills which were previously conspicuously lacking, even if Weikl isn’t very audible. The last jubilant chorus is especially noteworthy in that Strauss did not often write such music, especially as the climax to an opera.
If Weikl and too many of the comprimario singers were more satisfying this would be more recommendable.
1989, live, digital, Koch International Classics
Collegiate Orchestra/Robert Bass
New York City’s Gay Men’s Chorus – Collegiate Chorale
Kommandant – Roger Roloff
Maria – Alessandra Marc
Wachtmeister – William Wilderman
Konstabel – Max Wittges
Schütze – George Shirley
Musketier – Peter van Derick
Hornist – Paul Schmidt
Offizier – Stephen Lusmann
Piedmonteser – Ruben Broitman
Holsteiner – Terry Cook
Bürgermeister – Richard Cassilly
Prälat – James Wood
Frontoffizier – Stephen Lusmann
Frau aus dem Volk – Karen Williams
Anything with the luscious-voiced and under-recorded Alessandra Marc is worth considering, she has such a wonderful voice: powerful, vibrant, shimmering with a developed lower register. In terms of sheer beauty of tone and expressive depth she exceeds Hass – and I particularly like the way she both floats high notes and plunges into her lower register. I simply drink in her voice.
Not every comprimario singer is the best in his role – the Holsteiner here, for instance, cannot compete with Moll – but by and large the supporting cast is very good, beginning with a robust but youthful sounding young Piedmontese tenor – and there are some notable names among singers undertaking minor roles, such as Richard Cassilly, George Shirley and William Wilderman. All make more positive, characterful and vocally striking work of their parts than their equivalents in the two other sets reviewed here. The chorus is first set too far back in the aural picture but contributes powerfully in passages such as the cries of “Hunger!” and their verve in delivering the finale is infectious; they have clearly been superbly drilled. The entrance of the Commandant brings a pleasant surprise; Heldenbariton Roger Roloff might not have a huge voice but it is mostly focused and virile, despite some strain in its upper reaches and I find him preferable to Weikl.
While Sawallisch is wholly dependable, I am surprised to observe that I find Robert Bass’ conducting the more flexible and sensitive, especially when he is accompanying Marc and there is no sense of his “Collegiate Orchestra” – whoever they were – sounding like a scratch or amateur outfit. (The Collegiate Chorale, by contrast was a famous New York institution, founded by Robert Shaw.)
This was in fact the New York premiere of the opera in concert in Carnegie Hall. The sound here is a bit cloudy for a digital recording and there is a bit of coughing but that is hardly a deal-breaker. The cover design is ugly with the name of the opera virtually unreadable – but again, the real problem is that it has long been discontinued, so the prospective buyer must find a used copy on eBay, Amazon etc. I am aware that received critical opinion considers Sawallisch’s recording superior to this, but on balance I beg to differ.
1999, studio, digital, DG
Orchestra – Dresdner Staatskapelle/Giuseppe Sinopoli
Chorus – Dresdner Staatsoper
Kommandant – Albert Dohmen
Maria – Deborah Voigt
Wachtmeister – Alfred Reiter
Konstabel – Tom Martinsen
Schütze – Jochen Kupfer
Musketier – André Eckert
Hornist – Jürgen Commichau
Offizier – Jochen Schmeckenbecher
Piedmonteser – Johan Botha
Holsteiner – Attila Jun
Bürgermeister – Jon Villars
Prälat – Sami Luttinen
Frontoffizier – Matthias Henneberg
Frau aus dem Volk – Sabine Brohm
First, please see Terry Barfoot’s review of 2002 for some helpful background information and his qualified approval of a recording which “takes a worthy place but it does not assume the position of clear leader.” I agree with him. It has a variable roster of supporting artists; some, such as Johan Botha elegantly assuming the relatively minor role of the Italian tenor (shades of Der Rosenkavalier?), are very good, others less so. Albert Dohmen makes a commanding entrance; I like his firm, bright baritone which has considerable ring and depth – so it’s a pity that the next voice we hear in the Mayor has one of those squeezed “Germanic” tenors which is all too common – as does the Private, and the Prelate, too, is a bit throaty. That doesn’t matter much, though, as they are brief “character” roles; the most important part after the leading pair is played by the excellent chorus which, as TB asserts, is particularly impressive. We may also almost take for granted the excellence of the Dresdner Staatskapelle and Giuseppe Sinopoli’s energised direction of it; he was always attuned to the sweep and grandeur of Strauss’ orchestration and the inherent drama of the situations and conflicts his music charts – even in an opera whose subject matter rather lay outside Strauss’ customary Fach. The scene in which the desperate townspeople demand bread is especially powerful – the best of the three recordings here. After the contribution of the chorus, perhaps the most important subsidiary element is the Holsteiner, and solid South Korean bass Attila Jun makes a good match for Dohmen as his former adversary who embraces both him and peace. The final, ten-minute ensemble is somewhat reminiscent of the climax of Die Frau ohne Schatten – another of Sinopoli’s great Strauss recordings – and he extracts every drop of tension and excitement from it, more so than either of the other two conductors, aided by the excellent DG engineering.
In the end, there isn’t so much to choose among all three recordings; each has its strengths and weaknesses and I honestly don’t think any greatly disappoints, even if personally I prefer Dohmen’s, then Roloff’s Commandant, to Weikl’s weaker effort. Perhaps Hans Hotter is best of all but his vintage recording cannot compete on sonic terms. All three leading ladies are impressive, although I would choose Marc for heft and drama and Voigt for beauty and variety of tone – so on balance either Bass or Sinopoli is preferable to Sawallisch and Sinopoli of course has the additional advantage of studio sound.
Daphne
Perhaps this opera has its patches of “note-spinning” but the final Transformation Scene is one of the glories of Strauss’ operatic output – and was a favourite of the composer himself, who liked to play it on the piano for his own amusement late in life. It is primarily a vehicle for a highly accomplished lyric soprano but also needs among the soloists two great tenors – one lyric, the other a Heldentenor – and two trenchant low voices, one a contralto, the other a bass.
1944, radio broadcast, mono, Preiser, Walhall, Documents
Orchestra – Wiener Philharmoniker/Karl Böhm
Chorus – Wiener Staatsoper
Daphne – Maria Reining
Apollo – Karl Friedrich
Q2Gaea – Melanie Frutschnigg
Peneios – Herbert Alsen
Leukippos – Anton Dermota
Erster Schäfer – Georg Monthy
Zweiter Schäfer -Richard Sallaba
Dritter Schäfer – Hans Schweiger
Vierter Schäfer – Hermann Baler
Erste Magd – Emmy Loose
Zweite Magd – Maria Schober
I am breaking my own rules by including this vintage, historical recording in this survey, but it is given a special claim to consideration by the presence of Karl Böhm, who both conducted the premiere and was its dedicatee. The sound is of course quite thin and wiry, but really very listenable for historical recording aficionados. The thunderous sound of the herds is a but distorted and puts an edge on Maria Reining’s soprano but her power and purity are impressive – and she manages to sound young, almost childlike, although she was in her early forties, even if occasionally she slides too much into notes and her tone becomes a little hooty. Anton Dermota is similarly youthful and impassioned, his grainy tone unmistakable. Herbert Alsen is grace and steady as Peneios without being anything special. Karl Friedrich’s tenor is bold and heroic, making a welcome contrast with Dermota’s more aptly lyrical timbre. The supporting voices are all very good. Böhm’s direction of the score is energised and driven. This is as good a performance as any, albeit somewhat compromised by the old sound.
The love music for Daphne and Apollo with backing by the shepherds’ chorus is busy and bombastic but very well sung and despite some congestion in loud passages comes across very well. Friedrich copes admirably with the murderously sustained high tessitura of Apollo’s final apostrophe to the gods. To my ears Reining struggles a little with her Transformation Music and sounds rather too plaintive and even strained, which is a bit of a blot on an otherwise splendid account – but she recovers for the melismata concluding the soaring, magical Moonlight music.
I am not proposing that this be a first choice recording but it is certainly a worthy supplement to one in more modern sound and it is certainly no trial to listen to such a vivid, dynamic performance.
1964, live, stereo, DG
Wiener Philharmoniker/Karl Böhm
Chorus – Wiener Staatsoper
Daphne – Hilde Güden
Apollo – James King
Gaea – Vera Little
Peneios – Paul Schöffler
Leukippos – Fritz Wunderlich
Erster Schäfer – Hans Braun
Zweiter Schäfer – Kurt Equiluz
Dritter Schäfer – Harald Pröglhoff
Vierter Schäfer – Ludwig Welter
Erste Magd – Rita Streich
Zweite Magd – Erika Mechera
This has long been a reference recording given its provenance and distinguished casting – and of course once again Böhm’s direction confirms huge authority upon it. The main drawback is that the sound is live with a bit of coughing at first – but it is at least stereo and balances are fine, even if the orchestra is occasionally a little too recessed. As might be expected, the VPO woodwind are especially fine and distinctive and there is something magical about the pastoral atmosphere Karl Böhm creates right from the first notes. The distanced chorus enhances that otherworldliness and just as she does with Aminta in Die schweigsame Frau of the same year in Salzburg (unfortunately in mono sound, whereas here in the Theater an der Wien we have the newer sound technology), Hilde Güden deploys her silvery, shimmering soprano to present Daphne as a charming innocent. The agility of her coloratura and the precision of a intonation are a joy – and she simply infuses the text with so much character compared with rivals such Fleming – a talent she shares with Lucia Popp. Vocal delight is compounded by the entrance of Fritz Wunderlich and the distinguished African-American contralto Vera Little, joined by Rita Streich, all spinning Strauss’ long – indeed, seemingly endless – melodic lines. Paul Schöffler in his early sixties isn’t as vocally limber as he was formerly and his intonation is iffy but he is still dignified and in any case the role of Peneios is decidedly “senior”. The storm music is impressive and James King as Apollo completes a truly impressive cast, his powerful Heldentenor able to encompass the demands of the music and contrasting neatly with Wunderlich’s sweeter, lyric timbre. The climax to the Apollo-Daphne duet is thrilling, its effect intensified by the vibrancy of the singing and the propulsion of Böhm’s direction.
1982, studio, digital, EMI
Sinfonieorchester und Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks/Bernard Haitink
Daphne – Lucia Popp
Apollo – Reiner Goldberg
Gaea – Ortrun Wenkel
Peneios – Kurt Moll
Leukippos – Peter Schreier
Erster Schäfer – Ludwig Baumann
Zweiter Schäfer – Alexander Senger
Dritter Schäfer – Wolfgang Vater
Vierter Schäfer – Matthias Hölle
Erste Magd – Dorothea Wirtz
Zweite Magd – Uta-Maria Flake
This is certainly the main competition to the second live Böhm recording above. Its advantages include studio, digital sound – though recorded at a rather low volume which needs boosting – beautiful orchestral playing from the BRSO, sensitively moulded conducting, a fine supporting cast with the best sung shepherds, a superior Peneios in Kurt Moll and to cap it all a Daphne as pure and expressive as Hilde Güden in Lucia Popp; she is wonderful – more charming and personable than Fleming. The transformation scene is superb; she soars stratospherically with extraordinary concentration of tone and Haitink has a typically expert way of bringing out individual orchestral lines. Sample the finale on YouTube to hear the best of this recording.
All that will surely be enough to convince many collectors that it is the best option; my reservations centre upon the two tenors. Peter Schreier’s nasal, whining timbre emphatically underlines the fact that he is no Fritz Wunderlich. Reiner Goldberg is fine bur rather light, bright and polite – somewhat anonymous, without the animal passion that the greater vocal effort paradoxically lends James King’s Apollo. Nor do I find Ortrun Wenkel’s perfectly adequate Gaia as solid, steady and sonorous as her predecessors and it could be argued that Moll sounds too hieratic and noble to be simple patriarchal shepherd – but what a glorious voice.
On balance, this is a strange admixture of the hugely satisfying and the regrettably second-rate.
This includes a third CD-ROM with a synopsis and libretto – which I have always found utterly useless.
2004, studio, digital, Decca
WDR Rundfunkorchester und Chor Köln/Semyon Bychkov
Daphne – Renée Fleming
Apollo – Johan Botha
Gaea – Anna Larsson
Peneios – Kwangchul Youn
Leukippos – Michael Schade
Erster Schäfer – Eike Wilm Schulte
Zweiter Schäfer – Cosmin Ifrim
Dritter Schäfer – Gregory Reinhart
Vierter Schäfer – Carsten Wittmoser
Erste Magd – Julia Kleiter
Zweite Magd – Twyla Robinson
I refer you to Tony Haywood’s fair and balanced review which rightly identifies its considerable merits while conceding that it does not quite have the star quality of Böhm’s live 1964 performance – or even Haitink’s studio recording.
I must then make a confession: convinced that I had it on my shelves, I searched in vain until it dawned upon me that I had in fact jettisoned it in one of my periodic clear-outs to make shelf space, simply because, despite my being an admirer of the principal soprano, I did not think that the recording as a whole measured up to the Böhm and Haitink recordings, despite Fleming’s fine vocalisation, Bychkov’s assured conducting and the best digital sound. In brief, I didn’t see that I would choose it over those predecessors to listen to again.
Why so? I think the fundamental problem is that this performance lacks passion and excitement we hear in the old wartime recording; it’s all a bit staid and dutiful – even Fleming sounds imperturbable and a tad studied and matronly with her darker, ductile timbre, whereas Reining, Güden and Popp are lighter, more silvery, vibrant and shimmering. The tenor leads are note-perfect and more than capable but lack what Alan Blyth used to call the “face” and individuality that tenors like James King and Wunderlich bring to their roles. Reviews elsewhere often allude to a certain “muted” and “restrained” quality; I think that is right. Some have characterised this recording’s failing as being “a lack of magic” – which is vague but ultimately correct.
You may judge for yourself by listening to this in its entirety on YouTube; personally, I am content to forego the sound quality of this newer recording in favour of a more vividly characterised account.
Die Liebe der Danae
This opera – “a lively Mythology” – is a confection of two Greek myths based on a sketch by Hofmannsthal then elaborated by Josef Gregor nine years after Hofmannsthal’s death. It is an anomaly in Strauss’ output, in that it has three main soloists – the soprano Danae, the tenor Midas and the bass-baritone Jupiter, who bear a heavy burden – but also two more substantial tenor roles in Pollux and Mercury, even though Strauss was no fan of tenors and generally wrote awkwardly for them.
I admit to finding this the hardest of Strauss’ later operas to love. Strauss’ orchestration is typically lush and impressive in a generalised way although too much of the music simply isn’t very memorable and some duets go on too long. There are, however, also some ravishing highlights, such as the love duet for Midas and Danae which concludes with him accidentally turning her into a gold statue. Given its weaknesses, it is perhaps unsurprising that it has received only half a dozen live recordings and none studio-made.
1952, live, mono, Orfeo, Melodram, Cantus Classics
Orchestra – Wiener Philharmoniker/Clemens Krauss
Chorus – Wiener Staatsoper
Jupiter – Paul Schöffler
Merkur – Josef Traxel
Pollux – László Szemere
Danae – Annelies Kupper
Xanthe – Anny Felbermayer
Midas – Joseph Gostic
Semele – Dorothea Siebert
Europa – Esther Réthy
Alkmene – Georgine von Milinkovic
Leda – Sieglinde Wagner
This recording was long something of a stopgap and is far from ideal, being in rather congested mono sound. However, the ear soon adjusts and in compensation Krauss’ conducting is of course superb. The chorus is enthusiastic and well-drilled even if we lose some definition in the ensembles owing to the sonic distortion. The singing here is sometimes impressive, sometimes merely adequate and sometimes barely that, as in the case of the King Pollux, the only soloist in the riotous opening scene in which the creditors besiege him for payment
Although there was a private, dress rehearsal performance in 1944 conducted by Clemen Krauss, Strauss never sanctioned another performance and the official, posthumous premiere was in 1952 in which both Annelies Kupper and Joseph Gostic here created their roles. Her warbling vibrato is initially rather obtrusive and she sounds too mature; furthermore, she is often too recessed in the aural perspective and on first hearing, I found myself thinking how much better she was as Senta for Fricsay seven years earlier, but she improves markedly from act to act and is excellent in the finale. Her servant, Xanthe, is sung pleasantly enough by soprano Anny Felbermayer, whom collectors will know from Karajan’s vintage Hänsel und Gretel. Slovenian tenor Joseph Gostic as Midas is robust, unsubtle and not especially ingratiating of tone – in fact, he is rather coarse. It does not help that his first meeting with Danae is by Strauss’ standards musically uninspired and over-extended. In the love duet for Midas and Danae, however, he hits better vocal form and his confrontation with Paul Schöffler’s Jupiter towards the end of the act is highly dramatic. Schöffler is solid but his top notes are cloudy and he sometimes sounds more avuncular than like a testosterone-pumped, predatory male god; nonetheless, he makes an impressive job of his Wotan-like lament concluding Act II.
Gostic copes admirably with his extended declaration of love for Danae at the start of Act III even though I do not warm to his sound, and their ensuing duet “So führ ich dich” and its orchestral postlude recapture the long, lyrical melodic line that typifies earlier Strauss. The quartet of queens have some of their best music here, too – in fact it seems to me that the music for the whole act changes up a gear. The presence of Josef Traxel as Mercury adds a touch of class; he seems to be playing Loge to Schöffler’s Wotan/Jupiter – the parallel is strong. The surging, yearning, five-minute Zwischenspiel (Interlude) before the third scene is lovely and this recording concludes strongly with everyone in better voice than before.
You may hear this in its entirety on YouTube.
1980, radio broadcast, stereo, Gala
BBC Symphony Orchestra & Opera Chorus/Charles Mackerras
Jupiter – Norman Bailey
Merkur – Émile Belcourt
Pollux – John Dobson
Danae – Arlene Saunders
Xanthe – Rosalind Plowright
Midas – Kenneth Woollam
Semele – Elizabeth Gale
Europa – Alison Hargen
Alkmene – Patricia Price
Leda – Linda Finnie
Vier Könige – Bernard Dickerson
– Stuart Kale
– Alan Watt
– Geoffrey Moses
This was essentially an Anglo-Saxon recording, with the BBC orchestra and chorus and a cast mostly consisting of British singers but also including an American soprano, Arlene Saunders, and a Canadian tenor, Émile Belcourt. If you grew up with them as I did, you will recognise some big names on the roster; almost every soloist had a major career and even those taking the comprimario roles were well-known. That prevalent vocal quality, in combination with much better sound – just some faint hiss – makes it easier for me to enjoy and appreciate than the 1952 live performance.
John Dobson hasn’t the most effulgent tenor but he is more secure and convincing than many and his battle as Pollux with the BBC Opera Chorus as his creditors goes swimmingly with Mackerras driving the music pitilessly, contrasting neatly with the ensuing, sensuous “shower of gold” music depicting the slumbering Danae, sung by Saunders in warm, seductive tones with poised top notes rather than the piercing, “more needle than thread” sound produced by too many lyric coloratura sopranos. It is a bonus to have the young Rosalind Plowright as Xanthe and their voices intertwine most attractively.
The quartets of kings and queens and the ladies as Jupiter’s four former lovers all sing absolutely beautifully – unsurprisingly, when one looks at the singers’ names – and make me appreciate afresh both the fun Strauss had composing their music and its quality; passages in the Krauss and Windfuhr recordings which sometimes strike me as longueurs here seem wholly engaging. Kenneth Woollam’s tenor has not the most ingratiating of timbres – it is essentially rather constricted – but he has the spinto power and stamina to sustain the demands of his role as Midas. Completing a trio of impressive principal singers is the great ENO Wotan of his generation, bass-baritone Norman Bailey, vocally ideal as Jupiter, his noble tone so much more apt for portraying godhead than the gruffer, woollier rivals in the other recordings.
The orchestral playing is lovely, as evinced by the Zwischenspiel of Act III and Mackerras is in complete command of the surging, exotic Straussian idiom.
The achievement of this recording is all the more laudable given that it was clearly the product of a one-off, concert–radio performance with no chance of re-takes. However, the real problem with my strong recommendation of this set is that there seem to few, if any, copies of it available anywhere – but the good news is that it is available in its entirety on YouTube.
2000, live, digital, Telarc
American Symphony Orchestra/Leon Botstein
Concert Chorale of New York
Jupiter – Peter Coleman-Wright
Merkur – Michael Hendrick
Pollux – William Lewis
Danae – Lauren Flanigan
Xanthe – Lisa Saffer
Midas – Hugh Smith
Semele – Tamara Mesic
Europa – Jane Jennings
Alkmene – Mary Phillips
Leda – Elisabeth Canis
Vier Könige – Rodne Brown
– James Archie Worley
– William Berges
– Richard Crist
This is the obvious alternative to Mackerras’ recording, being also a one-off, live concert performance – but spread generously over three discs, each containing one act, whereas every other recording here, necessitating a slightly awkward break in Act II. However, the cast isn’t as starry and although the sound is good, the first thing I notice is that the creditor chorus is rather too restrained and polite. As Pollux, William Lewis is nicely audible but his tenor is horribly strangulated with a pronounced beat. The pairing of Lauren Flanigan and Lisa Saffer as Danae and Xanthe respectively is fine but not quite as alluring Mackerras’ singers; Flanigan’s voice is not as rounded as Saunders’ and her top notes are thinner. I do not find Botstein’s conducting to be very interesting or energised; everything sounds a bit removed and tamped down to my ears compared with Mackerras and Krauss. Hugh Smith is an accurate Midas but small-voiced with notably windy top notes for which his voice changes gear. Of the main roles, that leaves Peter Coleman-Wright’s Jupiter; again, he is acceptable but his voice does not have Bailey’s Wagnerian authority especially on top notes, which are effortful – and he is surely a light baritone not the bass-baritone required. As a result, the whole thing sounds a bit uninspired; it is telling that when the first act draws to a close there is a perceptible silence until the audience starts to clap, as if they weren’t sure it was over. A more emphatic ending would surely have elicited immediate applause.
In brief, despite this being mostly pleasant and listenable, I would not choose to listen to it over Mackerras’ recording, which is superior according to every criterion except perhaps sound – and even there, I think the analogue engineering in 1980 is more vivid, as quite often the ensembles sound rather remote. Colin Clarke reviewed this approvingly back in 2001 while also endorsing the vintage Krauss recording reviewed above but I wonder if he was aware of the Mackerras option.
2003, live composite, digital, CPO
Philharmonisches Orchester der Landhaupstadt Kiel/Ulrich Windfuhr
Chorus – Kieler Oper
Jupiter – Franz Grundheber
Merkur – Hans-Jürgen Schöpflin
Pollux – Paul McNamara
Danae – Manuela Uhl
Xanthe – Cornelia Zach
Midas – Robert Chafin
Semele – Susanne Bernard
Europa – Cornelia Zach
Alkmene – Gro Bente Kjellevold
Leda – Katharina Peetz
Vier Könige – Renate Behle
– Martin Fleitmann
– Simon Pauly
– Hans Georg Ahrens
Please see my colleagues Robert Hugill’s review for very useful background information and a fair and comprehensive assessment of both this and two other recordings above conducted by Krauss and Botstein. His recommendation is for the 1952 live recording, faute de mieux, which is reasonable enough, but he does not consider the Mackerras recording which I have also thrown into the mix.
This recording has its merits beginning with good sound, although it immediately becomes apparent that Paul McNamara isn’t much more successful as Pollux than any other tenor undertaking that ungrateful role, being somewhat strained and bleating. Nor do I much care for Manuela Uhl’s hard, nasal soprano; she is plaintive and unvaried of tone, her vibrato pulses uncomfortably and top notes are squealed. Robert Chafin battles manfully as Midas without exuding much charisma. That estimable artist Franz Grundheber here, by this stage in his career, sounds gruff and superannuated. He has some bite in his tone but is labouring somewhat and effortfully aspirating loud, high notes. In sum, at least three of the principal singers here do not measure up to the best in the other versions; they are clearly strained and over-parted. The chorus, orchestra and supporting singers are good but I do not find Windfuhr’s conducting to be as animated as others’; for me the tension and momentum drop too often.
I confess to having previously jettisoned this recording as demonstrably inferior to both the Mackerras radio broadcast and Botstein’s live performance and I will not belabour my points; RH has already covered them and it is clear that there are better options to this recording. In fairness, I should point out that Robert Levine on the Classics Today website liked it much more. You may listen to it on YouTube and make your own assessment.
Recommendations
For all that these operas are by no means among Strauss’ most popular works, I cannot help but feel that part of the reason for their neglect might lie in the fact that either they have not received mainstream recordings and performances featuring the best artists, or even when they have been well recorded, those sets have disappeared from circulation all too quickly. Three of my top recommendations (for Feuersnot, Die schweigsame Frau and Die Liebe der Danae) below are very hard to track down and often prohibitively over-priced even if you can find them. Fortunately, YouTube often comes to the rescue.
Feuersnot – Leinsdorf
I was really taken by the singing of Janowitz and Shirley-Quirk under Leinsdorf’s expert direction – and the sound is very good.
Die ägyptische Helena – Korsten
We are spoilt for choice here but we might as well have a performance employing the complete, original score in excellent sound, free of cuts or any major vocal defects – in which case, the choice is between the two most recent recordings, both live and both superb. My preference is just for the Korsten recording despite the merits of the Botstein version, for its sheer theatricality; the partnership of Voigt and Tanner is highly persuasive but Botstein is comparatively a little staid. If you are inclined to try only one of the operas here, let me urge you towards this one
Die schweigsame Frau – Steinberg
Unfortunately, although this is easily the best recording, it is currently unobtainable; my download is courtesy of a MusicWeb colleague – in which case, the next best option is the old, live Böhm recording in mono sound.
Friedenstag – Sinopoli
– although I still want to hear Alessandra Marc for Bass, too.
Daphne – Böhm 1964
– with Haitink in reserve if you like Schreier more than I and are a fan of Popp and Moll.
Die Liebe der Danae – Mackerras
– this is the recording which convinced me that this is an opera which is worth staging and I would go to see if it were fielded with a cast up to its strenuous demands. You my hear it on YouTube but if you want to own a physical copy, the best readily available option is the Botstein recording, which is nowhere near as stirring.
Ralph Moore
