RECORDINGS IN REVIEW

Transcription

1 RECORDINGS IN REVIEW D E W E Y F A U L K N E R The canon of recorded Verdi operas has expanded significantly over the past five decades, from the Cetra series of the 1950s to the Philips/Decca/Orfeo series of early Verdi operas conducted by the late Lamberto Gardelli in the 1970s and early 1980s. Most of these are now available on CD. Components of this series appear rock-solid, individual, untroubled by constant changes so often imposed on scores for particular singers: one title, one version. After the first productions, Verdi appears to have worried more about local censorship of the text than about musical changes. There is, however, a small body of Verdi s operas where the composer rethought and reshaped his scores. In some cases, the revision produced a negligible result and has been ignored, as with Le trouvère, the French version of Il trovatore. In other cases, the revision created something largely new, as with the metamorphosis of I Lombardi into Jérusalem. Between these extremes lie the alternative versions, the earlier almost vanished today and the other a standard part of the repertory. Because of recent recordings, however, it is possible to hear and enjoy both alternatives and decide for oneself whether the verdict of history is justified. I Lombardi (1843) was Verdi s second great success, after Nabucco R 1 6 7

2 1 6 8 F A U L K N E R the previous year. Although both operas had the same librettist (Temistocle Solera), the later opera is hacked from an epic poem and lacks the focus and concentration of its predecessor. Unfortunately, focus and concentration were Verdi s greatest requirement. His works often resemble opera seria of the preceding century in that the plot flies by rapidly (or is dispensed with entirely), allowing Verdi to concentrate on moments of emotion and reflection more suited to musical expression. Choosing the moments was a risky business for a librettist, and bridging them even more so. The matter is complicated in I Lombardi because the tenor lead doesn t appear until the second act, and to make matters worse, he dies at the end of Act 3, with another act of the opera to go. His spirit is given an arietta between the soprano s cavatina and cabaletta in the next scene, but this isn t much consolation, especially for a tenor. The work s success is due to elements other than drama: rousing music, patriotic choruses, and the soprano-tenor duet in Act 2 and the great trio concluding Act 3, which are modeled successfully on Bellini. Four years later, Verdi accepted a longstanding invitation to write an opera for Paris and, lacking time to create a new work, followed Rossini s example of revising I Lombardi as a grand opera, Jérusalem. Alphonse Royer and Gustave Vaëz, who had written La favorite for Donizetti, created the revision, and in it they solved the tenor problem: he is now attached to the main group of characters from the first, does not die in the middle of the opera, and is given a newly composed ceremonial scene in which he is ritually stripped of his honor (Act 3, scene 2), a scene entirely his own. The music is largely reorganized and is almost totally reorchestrated. Critics of early Verdi often point to its crude orchestral writing as if this were all he was capable of, but they have failed to listen to Jérusalem. Verdi was well aware that he was moving from the amateurishness of most Italian orchestras to the finest orchestra in Europe, and he responded accordingly. In spite of its considerable merits and the advocacy of such writers as Julian Budden, Jérusalem is almost never heard, while I Lombardi occasionally does reappear, perversely usually with a star tenor such as Luciano Pavarotti. The Philips label is currently attempting to fill some of its gaps in repertoire and has started with Jérusalem, presented complete and in French (Philips Y

3 R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W ; 3 CDs). Alas, the pool of accomplished Verdi singers it drew upon so easily in the 1970s no longer exists, and distinguished conductor Gardelli has died. Consequently, we have good intentions and lesser executions in this set, although no one is so inadequate as to destroy the opera or our enjoyment of it. Soprano Marina Mescheriakova s Hélène is big and imposing but rather colorless, tenor Marcello Giordano s Gaston is pleasing if lightweight, and Roberto Scandiuzzi s Roger is well acted, although alarmingly quavery in vocalism. The minor characters and chorus sing recognizable French, and a libretto is provided for the rest. Fabio Luisi leads L Orchestre de la Suisse Romande e ectively. A pirated recording of Jérusalem made for Radio Turin in 1975 gives a better image of the opera, even if it is slightly cut. Katia Ricciarelli, José Carreras, and Siegmund Nimsgern are its major voices, and Gianandrea Gavazzeni paces the whole more evenly and is a bit more dull than Luisi (Legato sro 828; 2 CDs). Another early opera transformed less drastically than Lombardi was Sti elio (1850), which was eventually recast as Aroldo in Verdi cared so little for the original that he did his rework on the autograph, discarding parts of it as he replaced them. Eventually other early copies of the music were found and the original was reconstructed, but only within the past several decades. As the opera that immediately precedes Rigoletto, the lost Sti elio aroused great hopes, and it has some excellent and inventive music and dramaturgy. But the Protestant costumes are dull, the plot is a bit too earnest, and the characters apart from the delightfully vengeful baritone Stankar are not the passionate persons Verdi needed. Sti elio s greatest flaw is its final scene, which lacks melodic interest and is too short to make its intended dramatic impact. Verdi corrected this in Aroldo with a new final scene (now Act 4) nearly twice as long as that in Sti elio. Acts 1 through 3 in Aroldo, however, are almost entirely identical to their sources. Both operas are concerned with a final forgiveness, but Aroldo uses its new concluding expansiveness to present this virtue more e ectively. Still, it fails ultimately because it misses Sti elio s less well presented dramatic point of a pastor forced to forgive his adulterous wife, as his religion demands. The deeper problem with both versions is that they both lack music to engage us. R

4 1 7 0 F A U L K N E R Philips failed to record Aroldo in the 1970s, although it did give us Gardelli s premiere recording of Sti elio. Aroldo was first recorded by CBS with Montserrat Caballé, Gianfranco Cecchele, and Juan Pons, conducted by Eve Queler (Sony m2k 79328; 2 CDs). Caballé gives a great performance, the other singers provide passable ones, and Queler adds vigorous support. Another Aroldo has been issued recently by the Teatro la Fenice in Venice, presenting a 1985 live performance conducted by Eliahu Inbal (Mondo Musica mfoh 10800; 2 CDs). The main, indeed the only, attractions here are the conductor, who draws good things from his chorus and orchestra, and the soprano, Lucia Aliberti, who gives a livelier performance than Caballé. The rest of the cast varies from acceptable to barely tolerable. There is no libretto. Philips has now decided to add Aroldo to its list, again with Luisi conducting (Philips ; 2 CDs). As of this writing it has not yet appeared (Universal promises it for fall 2001 in the United States), but the finale of the new act is on their Viva Verdi! sampler (Philips ; 2 CDs). The live performance from Florence has Carole Vaness, Neil Shico, Anthony Michaels- Moore, and Scandiuzzi. All sound fine, the tenor and baritone a marked improvement over Queler s singers, although Vaness cannot surpass Caballé who can? This may well turn out to be the best of Philips s 2001 Verdi celebration releases. Verdi cared far more about Macbeth, written the same year as Jérusalem (1847). Over the years he took great pains with performances and was especially pleased with the Act 1 Macbeth Lady Macbeth duet and the sleepwalking scene in Act 3. Then in 1865, Verdi was persuaded to mount a French translation in Paris. (He reworked the opera in Italian, using Francesco Piave, his original librettist, and allowed Léon Carvalho to have it translated, so we would gain little from hearing the French version, which has not been recorded.) But he found various pieces in it which are either weak, or lacking in character, which is worse still. Consequently Verdi replaced some numbers, simplified others, and added the mandatory Parisian ballet. The resulting stylistic mix or musical mosaic, in Verdi s term has been in the standard repertory for half a century now and is commonly assumed to be an improvement, the composer s final mature considered thoughts. Y

5 R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W In fact, what Verdi did was destroy the stylistic unity of the original. Lady Macbeth in particular is characterized in 1847 by brilliant, florid lines with wide leaps and a general nervous quality to them. Macbeth himself vacillates between moments of introspection and expressions of brutal power. In 1865 the composer was writing more measured music: he had recently completed La forza del destino and would soon create Don Carlos, operas where the tinta, his musical underpainting, would pull together elements that never strayed too far from the basic coloration to start with. The 1847 Macbeth, by contrast, is an opera of extremes. It has no love interest and unusual formal structures, which makes it a very experimental work in the context both of its times and of Verdi s other operas. For Paris, Verdi replaced Lady Macbeth s febrile Act 2 cabaletta (sans cavatina) Trionfai with La luce langue, closer to Shakespeare but toning down the audience s musical perceptions of the lady. Macbeth s outbursts on seeing Banquo s ghost in Act 2, scene 3, are also toned down, and his forceful cabaletta ending to Act 3 is replaced by a duet with Lady Macbeth. His death scene ( Mal per me followed by an abrupt ending) is excised and replaced by an expansive choral number, which removes the final focus from the protagonist and dissipates it in a cloud of good feeling. There are wonderful things in the new music, but they betray the vivid and exact characterizations of the Verdi apparently wished to recharacterize his protagonists but was no longer interested in picking up a thread which had been broken so many years ago and used new means that do not succeed as e ectively as the original s do. There have been many excellent recordings of Macbeth, some using the pure French version, some adding elements of 1847 and/or removing a few 1865 additions. The 1847 version, however, has only recently been commercially released, part of a series of little-known Verdi originals and revisions on the Italian Dynamic label that captures live performances at the Festival Valle d Itria Martina Franca (Dynamic cds 194/1-2; 2 CDs). This is a small house, on a limited budget, and this comes out in the performances. The star turn is, appropriately, Iano Tamar as Lady Macbeth, whose big, flexible, harsh, edgy voice seems to be just R

6 1 7 2 F A U L K N E R what Verdi wanted. Evgenji Demerdjiev s Macbeth is vocally unfocused, though not ine ective. Marco Guidarini conducts e ciently, and the orchestra is acceptable. The outstanding performance of the 1847 Macbeth remains the 1978 BBC Proms performance, conducted by John Matheson and starring Rita Hunter, Peter Glossop, and John Tomlinson. Also part of a multiyear series of Verdi originals and revisions, its standards of performance throughout are much higher than the Italian performance s. The pirate Voce label issued home tapings on LP of this and others in the series two decades ago. Perhaps the current BBC Legends series might release the originals, which would honor Verdi, the participants, and the BBC. Another Martina Franca Festival release brings us another Paris revision, Le trouvère, the 1857 French version of 1853 s Il trovatore (Dynamic cds 225/1-2; 2 CDs). Apart from the mandatory ballet added to Act 3, the revision shows Verdi having a few second thoughts about vocal lines and accompaniments, enough to interest Verdi lovers in hearing it. The major changes are the dropping of Leonora s Act 4 cabaletta after the Miserere, a tradition that has been observed in most Italian-language stagings and recordings since, and the reconstruction of the Act 4 finale, reintroducing the Miserere as well as a few more lines of dialogue. For once Verdi did not cut and compress, his favored mode of both composition and revision when dealing with plot. The Verdian is faced with a dilemma here. The 1998 festival performance features mainly non-french performers, e ectively conducted and in good sound. Of the singers, Sylvie Brunet as Azucena is the only authentic French speaker, and it is a pleasure to hear how she melds the French text, her voice, and the music to maximum e ect. Warren Mok pushes his light voice for the heroic Manrique, Nicola Mijailovic is a bit woolly as le Conte de Luna, while Iano Tamar is less lyrical than one might like as Léonore. Diction is poor all round, even with Brunet much of the time. Still, this is not a negligable document, nor a bad performance of Trovatore/Trouvère. The other horn of this dilemma is Ward Marston s splendid remastering of the only other recording of Le trouvère, made by Pathé in 1912 (Marston 52026; 2 CDs). Here diction is excellent as is much of the singing, and these together illuminate a tradition of Y

7 R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W French singing foolishly abandoned by the French in their postwar move to become Euro. One gets used to the sound, from which Marston has extracted exceptionally vivid voices and a far fuller orchestra than one might expect. But it is still a product of When Le trouvère appeared in January 1857, Verdi had revised only one of the nineteen operas that preceded it. Aroldo would be produced in August of that year, and the Paris Macbeth was eight years and three operas in the future. Between 1869 and 1884, however, Verdi had his great period of second thoughts the only new opera during this stretch is Aïda in 1871, and this in many ways is only a revision of Don Carlos. During these years Verdi reworked three operas, all of them mature works written between 1857 and 1867, and two of these show influences of French Grand Opera. The most vexing of these is La forza del destino (1862). Unlike its predecessor, Un ballo in maschera, which Verdi had compressed from Eugène Scribe s five acts of Grand Opera into three acts of character-oriented drama, Forza sprawls over four long acts filled with amazing coincidences (all of them bad for the characters), melodramatic gestures, and great music. Verdi had ambitions to make it into Grand Opera, hence the ceremony of Leonora s induction into monasticism, the oath taken by Don Carlo and Don Alvaro, and the great crowd scenes, which owe much to Friedrich von Schiller s Wallenstein trilogy. Poor Piave had to re-form his Spanish source into a shape that would allow Verdi these ambitious elements as well as the focus on personal reactions and interactions he absolutely required. The result is rather ramshackle, especially the third act. When Verdi came to revise Forza for La Scala in 1869, he tinkered with the first two acts but made wholesale structural changes in the third, moving sections around and thoroughly confusing the already muddy drama. But he had good reason. In 1862 the act was symmetrical. It began and ended with arias for Don Alvaro, the tenor. (Actually, these comprise the cavatina and cabaletta of a traditional aria, making Act 3 an interruption of the aria Verdi s little musical joke.) These framed two duets for Alvaro and Don Carlos, the baritone. At its center, between the duets, was a great crowd scene, concluding with Preziosilla s R

8 1 7 4 F A U L K N E R Rataplan. Unfortunately, this structure placed a perfect finale in the middle of the act, but it is necessary there in order to allow Alvaro to recover from his near-fatal wounds. Rather than jettison this splendid scene, Verdi in 1869 has Alvaro recover almost instantaneously, separating the two duets only by a new and brief soldiers chorus. The Alvaro-Carlo duel is now followed by the crowd scene, and the second tenor aria with its fiery concluding cries of Andiam! is cut, making the tenor more victim than heroic actor. This shift in Alvaro s character is made definite in Verdi s change to his part in Act 4, scene 2. Forza s finale in 1869 is transformed into a grand trio of reconciliation from its 1862 form of a violent storm scene, in which the crazed tenor throws himself into the abyss in despair. One wonders whether tenors thank or curse Verdi for mellowing and reducing their role (or if they re even aware that he did). Apart from this change in characterization, the revised Forza is not too far removed from the original Forza, so the first opera s vanishing is not to be lamented, except by ambitious tenors. It has recently been recorded, appropriately by forces from St. Petersburg, where it was premiered, led by Valery Gergiev (Philips ; 3 CDs). The singers all have the more focused vocal production that used to be the norm for Russian vocalists, but most are not quite the equal of their greatest Western counterparts in these roles (notable exceptions: Galina Gorchakova s Leonora and Georgy Zastavny s Melitone). Orchestra and chorus respond well to Gergiev s flexible, occasionally loose direction. Lovers of Forza must have this performance, and even the casual listener will find it a viable and enjoyable alternative to a familiar favorite. The BBC also performed the first version of Forza in its series of original versions, conducted by John Matheson. The cast included Martina Arroyo, as magnificent in the 1862 as in the 1869, Kenneth Collins as Don Alvaro, Peter Glossop as Don Carlo, and John Tomlinson as Padre Guardiano. All the men are very fine, as is the sound. Matheson s conducting is pretty close to ideally paced and balanced, as it was in the BBC 1847 Macbeth. Forza has been transferred to CD (Exclusive ex94t80/81; 2 CDs), but the engineers seem to have been unaware that the stereo switch was o Y

9 R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W until disc 2. Again, let us hope that the BBC Legends series will consider this for o cial reissue. Perhaps the least successful vocally of the BBC revivals was the 1973 French original version of Verdi s Don Carlos (1867), but it does have the distinction of being the only complete recording of the original French version yet made. A commercial recording to replace it has become something of a Holy Grail for Verdians. Verdi s downfall and also his glory in Don Carlos was to write the grandest of Grand Operas, one both epic in sweep and yet intimate in its focus on five major characters. Both in duration and scope, Don Carlos is an overly formidable work to stage, especially in its original form. Even the premiere was truncated: Verdi replaced the opening scene of Elisabeth on horseback amid peasants in the snow with hunting fanfares, cutting about ten minutes in the process. Parts of the Philip II Rodrigue duet ending Act 2 were cut, as was a duet for Elisabeth and Eboli in Act 4, scene 1. In Verdi set out to cut Carlos to a still more manageable length, especially for an Italian theater, and eliminated the entire first act (except for the tenor s lone aria, which he moved to the next scene) as well as the opening scene and ballet of Act 3, scene 1. He reduced the finales of Acts 4 and 5 and recomposed that of Act 2. The opera was still recognizably Don Carlos, but now also in Italian as well as in French and much shorter and more focused. In 1886 he approved an alternate five-act version of his revision with the original first act restored. For many theaters and recordings this has been the most appropriate form for the work, although most have opted for the Italian translation rather than the French for which the music was almost entirely composed. Most of the original music was recovered in 1970 by Andrew Porter and others. Conductors, notably Claudio Abbado, have since then spliced various bits into the final revisions with mixed results. When the time finally came to record a French version, Abbado was selected to conduct, using his normal La Scala forces, but he was encouraged by Deutsche Grammophon not to insert his customary restorations into the opera, which was recorded in the 1886 five-act version. To this were added as appendixes some, but not all, of Verdi s most significant original passages from 1867, including the original opening to Act 1, the opening scene and R

10 1 7 6 F A U L K N E R ballet of Act 3, scene 1, and the original finales of Acts 4 (in part) and 5. With a CD player, one can program these selections into the revised version, guided by the helpful booklet. Not ideal, and not complete, but better than nothing (dg ; 4 CDs). Abbado s cast is largely distinguished, including Katia Ricciarelli, Placido Domingo, and Ruggero Raimondi, although Lucia Valentini-Terrani and Leo Nucci are overparted as Eboli and Rodrigue. Unfortunately, not one is a native speaker of French, which means that the language is often mispronounced and diction turns to mush. It frequently sounds like long melismas on strange vowels. Still, there is much to enjoy and there is a libretto. When a new French Don Carlos was announced a few years ago, including several singers who were French or knew how to sing it, there were high hopes. These were, however, to be only partially fulfilled. Antonio Pappano leads the Orchestre de Paris in a live performance from the Théatre du Châtelet (emi ; 3 CDs). The men are as good as we are likely to get: Roberto Alagna, Thomas Hampson, and José Van Dam. The women are both vocally equal to their parts but sing in some unknown tongue, especially Karita Mattila as Elisabeth. Waltraud Meier turns the veil song into one long sonic smear but punches out O don fatal et détesté e ectively. Not ideal casting, though slightly better than the Abbado on the whole. The sung text, however, represents a bizarre series of choices from the new complete Ricordi edition. For example, in Act 5, the marziale section of the Elisabeth-Carlos duet is cut (it was present in Paris and retained in 1883), and 1883 s huge cut is inflicted on the finale, from Philip s Je vous livre ce criminel to the Inquisitor s call for his guards to seize Carlos. Then the original quiet ending concludes the opera, something Verdi changed in his revisions because it was both ine ective and inappropriate. One can only speculate on the reasoning behind these odd juxtapositions: Was the ending, indeed the entire final act, too bombastic for today s refined French sensibilities? Juste ciel! Even so, the inclusion of the original Philip-Posa duet at the end of Act 2, the original opening of Act 2, scene 1, and the complete original Act 4 finale, none of which is on the Abbado, make this set self-recommending. At the same time, perhaps the BBC might consider releasing its 1973 broadcast in the BBC Leg- Y

11 R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W ends, if only to give us o cially at last what Verdi originally wished Don Carlos to be. Neither the revised Don Carlos nor the revised Forza di ers radically from the original. The orchestral accompaniments are not much changed, and the new music in both generally fits the original conceptions of the operas. But with Simon Boccanegra, Verdi in 1881 made radical changes. This is his most thoroughgoing rewrite since Jérusalem, and his most important. The 1857 original of Boccanegra had proved overly innovative for the public, being as Julian Budden says, a hard, gritty work, austere in its vocal writing and uncompromising in its expression. Verdi was determined to save it, and in 1881 he collaborated operatically for the first time with Arrigo Boito in revising it. Boito s most important contribution was a new finale for Act 1, the great council chamber scene, which Verdi turned into one of the greatest ensembles in all his operas or any others, for that matter. This finale, structurally at the center of the opera, so dominates Boccanegra as to make most of the rest of the 1857 pale in comparison. To mitigate this, Verdi rewrote nearly every bar, adding to the orchestration, changing vocal lines, altering accompaniments, and occasionally cutting sections, notably Amelia s cabaletta in Act 1, scene 1, and much of the following Gabriele-Fiesco duet. The result is a new richness and subtlety overlaid on what is still recognizably a middle-period Verdi opera. Boito s new finale dominates the work, but not as totally as it might. The revised Boccanegra obliterated the 1857 original on opera stages, and it has only been recorded commercially once, from another live Martina Franca production (Dynamic cds 268/1-2; 2 CDs). Renato Palumbo s conducting is nicely paced, but the whole sounds thinner and more tentative than it might. Warren Mok s Gabriele is frayed (too many Manriques?), and Francesco Ellero d Artagna s Fiesco is woolly and thin. Vittorio Vitelli s Boccanegra is acceptably vocalized, although it occasionally slithers across the notes, but lacks the authority and depth of sound found in the great Doges, such as Lawrence Tibbett and Tito Gobbi. Still, Annalisa Raspigliosi s Amelia actually meets the demands of the role and is e ectively acted, too. The main curiosity here is the original finale of Act 1 and whether the men can render it ine ective. It turns out to be a R

12 1 7 8 F A U L K N E R moderately imposing festal scene with lots of choruses and a brief ballet. The abduction and escape of Amelia are at the center, as in the familiar 1881, and it ends with a grand ensemble culminating in cries of Giustizia! Raspigliosi does not dominate the ensemble properly, but otherwise the Martina Franca performance is acceptable at least until one hears the 1975 BBC performance conducted by Matheson, which is better paced, better played, better recorded, and generally better sung. The original finale makes a far more impressive conclusion than in the Italian production, and Matheson makes a far better case for the importance of the 1857 score. Again, the BBC would honor both Verdi and itself by an o cial reissue. Apart from the 1847 Macbeth, which is arguably superior in its coherence to the Paris revision, and Jérusalem, which solves many of the problems of I Lombardi, these originals and revisions are curiosities, worthy of an occasional revival but not, perhaps, of reinstatement in the repertory. Yet even in the least-known of Verdi s works there is a life to be found only in the great operas of other eras there really isn t a bad one in the lot, and these alternative versions are no exception to that. To be able to discover new Verdi in this anniversary year must be one of the gifts of recordings, one that should be grasped thankfully while we can. Y