Richard Wagner (1813-1883)
Tannhäuser (1845, Dresden version, 1860)
Tannhäuser – Klaus König (tenor)
Elisabeth – Lucia Popp (soprano)
Venus – Waltraud Meier (mezzo-soprano)
Wolfram von Eschenbach – Bernd Weikl (baritone)
Hermann, Landgrave of Thuringia – Kurt Moll (bass)
Walther von der Vogelweide – Siegfried Jerusalem (tenor)
Biterolf – Walton Groenroos (bass)
Reinmar von Zweter – Rainer Scholze (bass)
Bavarian Radio Choir and Symphony Orchestra/Bernard Haitink
rec. 1985, Herkulensaal, Munich, Germany
Warner Classics 6408002 [3 CDs: 173]

Tannhäuser is something of a Cinderella of the recording studio. There have been only six post-WW2 studio recordings: Konwitschny (1960), Gerdes (1968), Solti (1970), this one under review conducted by Haitink (1985), Sinopoli (1988) and Barenboim (2001). Three opt for the Dresden version, shorter by a quarter of an hour or so, although Barenboim includes the Venusberg music as per the Paris premiere (review); Solti and Sinopoli use the Paris version. Brian Wilson’s review of Haitink’s recording provides a useful overview of the alternatives and I agree with his ranking; I have long thought Solti’s account way out in front in terms of cast, content and conducting;  I further expand upon its merits in comparison with any supposed rivals in my “Untouchables” conspectus.

Nonetheless, the recent passing of Klaus König and subsequent discussion of his career prompted me to revisit this recording. I confess that my expectations were not high, despite bright spots in the cast such as Lucia Popp and Kurt Moll; I have never found Bernard Haitink to be especially distinguished in Wagner and in fact, apart from this Tannhäuser, his only other Wagner studio recordings are his Ring cycle (1988-90) which in my estimation has less than stellar casts compared with the best.

Immediate advantages, however, include digital sound and a first-rate orchestra and chorus – and even if Haitink’s direction isn’t as driven as Solti’s, the shorter Dresden overture goes with a real swing and the conclusion is very grand, then the sirens are beautifully distanced and ethereal. We also have an entirely German-speaking cast – even the Slovakian-born Lucia Popp was fluent; a flaw in Sinopoli’s recording is Domingo’s heavily accented German (which later improved). As the opera unfolds, we may hear that the strengths of Haitink’s conducting are poetic refinement and precision – but the big moments hardly hit home.

I wish I were more enamoured of the lovers; I find the young Waltraud Meier’s timbre somewhat thin and tremulous, without the depth and colour we hear in the voices of singers such as “die schwarze Venus” Grace Bumbry and Christa Ludwig. For me, her somewhat twittery, piping utterance lacks allure and sensuality. Klaus König has the notes and stamina but his basic tone, too, isn’t very attractive; it is rather “bottled” in the less attractive Germanic manner and tends to monotony. I found him better suited to, and vocally more impressive in, the Das Lied von der Erde he recorded for Tennstedt four years earlier. Kollo may growl and blare occasionally, resorting too often to guttural emphasis, but he is more convincing than König as an impassioned, tormented lover. I might not often chime with the critical opinions of BBC Music Magazine, but must agree that ““hefty but bland” is an apt summing up of König’s Tannhäuser. There is little sexual tension between him and Venus; to my ears they sound like a little sister berating an oafish elder brother.

Casting a womanly soprano as the shepherd boy opening the third scene of Act I is a big mistake – just plain wrong – then surely the pilgrim chorus should move more obviously across the auditory plain instead of just approaching then receding. The Landgrave and his huntsmen-minstrels are mostly a fine bunch, headed by the ever-sonorous Kurt Moll and featuring some famous names – though the Biterolf is a weakness. The bleat which began to obtrude in Bernd Weikl’s baritone as he aged is barely apparent and his Wolfram is typically expressive. Ensemble is tight and the horns at the climax to the act are glorious.

The contribution of Lucía Popp constitutes the principal attraction of this set; she rivals the great Elisabeth Grümmer for Konwitschny, being similarly silvery, shimmering, powerful and sensuous. Her uniquely individual voice draws the listener in – which is all the more surprising given that Elisabeth was one of the few roles she recorded which she did not perform on stage. Her duetting with König tends to show him up as rather lumpen but the exchanges with Moll’s warm, purring bass are a delight. The chorus again makes an impressive impact and the orchestral playing continues to be flawless.

Act III evinces more of the same strengths and weaknesses. In the end, despite the excellence of Popp and Moll and the quality of the orchestra and chorus, the politeness of Haitink’s direction and the manifold weaknesses in the casting of the eponymous anti-hero and his good-time-gal militate against recommending this whole-heartedly – and certainly do not shake my adherence to the Solti recording. On balance, too, if you want the Dresden version, I would still plump for Konwitschny over Haitink; Hans Hopf might also be a bit leaden as Tannhäuser but his tenor is essentially more attractive than König’s, and we hear a superb Elisabeth and Landgrave, a better Venus, a young DFD on best behaviour and in sappy voice as Wolfram – and even Fritz Wunderlich as Walther.

(N.B.: the earlier CD issue on the EMI label was a box set with a full German libretto with English and French translations in book form; the later Warner Classics set offers that on a fourth CD.)

Ralph Moore

Previous review (EMI release): Brian Wilson (January 2011)

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