Schoenberg: Verklarte Nacht (SACD review)

Also, Lehar: Fieber; Fried: Verklarte Nacht; Korngold:
Lieder des Abschieds. Christine Rice, mezzo-soprano; Stuart Skelton, tenor;
Edward Gardner, BBC Symphony Orchestra. Chandos CHSA 5243.

By John J. Puccio

“Two people walk through a leafless frosty copse,
the moon tags along and draws their gaze.
...
He grasps her about her strong hips.
Their breath is mingling in the air.
Two people walk through a brightly shining night.”

--Richard Dehmel, “Transfigured Night,”

Those are the opening and closing lines of the poem
“Verklarte Nach” by German poet and writer Richard Dehmel (1863-1920). Dehmel’s
poems inspired such composers as such as Richard Strauss, Max Reger, Alexander
von Zemlinsky, Arnold Schoenberg, Oskar Fried, Alma Mahler, Anton Webern,
Ignatz Waghalter, Carl Orff, and Kurt Weill to set them to music. On the
present album we have four composers whom Dehmel inspired in one way or
another: Arnold Schoenberg, Oskar Fried, Franz Lehar, and Erich Wolfgang Korngold.
Maestro Edward Gardner and the BBC Symphony Orchestra do the honors, with tenor
Stuart Skelton lending his voice to Lehar’s Fieber and both Skelton and
mezzo-soprano Christine Rice singing in Fried’s Verklarte Nacht.

First up on the program is Fieber (“Fever,” 1915),
a short piece by Austro-Hungarian composer Franz Lehar (1870-1948). Although
Lehar was a contemporary of Schoenberg, his music is more associated with that
of operetta, and the link between him and Dehmel’s poem is tenuous at best. Lehar’s
tone poem (as he called it) is a musical tribute to his younger brother who lay
in hospital at the time from wounds received in the early going of the First
World War. Lehar set the words of poet Erwin Weill to music, and they do bear
resemblance in tone to Dehmel’s poem. The music is very dramatic, perhaps even
melodramatic, and between bouts of seriousness, it also betrays Lehar’s
light-opera leanings. Tenor Stuart Skelton sings it well, and Gardner and the
orchestra accompany him unobtrusively.

Next up is Verklarte Nacht (“Transfigured Night,”
1901), another short work, this one by German conductor and composer Oskar
Fried (1871-1941). Although Schoenberg wrote his musical setting for Dehmel’s
poem a couple of years earlier, he didn’t see it performed until 1902, a full
year after Fried’s operatic, vocal-instrumental version appeared. Fried’s piece
is pretty much a musical setting of the whole Dehmel poem, where tenor Skelton
is joined by soprano Christine Rice. I found it rather forgettable, but listeners
more attuned to opera than I am may enjoy its sentiment. There is no question
that everyone involved performs it well.

Then we get the centerpiece of the album, Verklarte
Nacht by Austrian-born composer, writer, and painter Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951).
He originally wrote it for string sextet but arranged a string orchestra
version in 1917, which we have here. The work is pretty well known, and one can
find it recorded by practically every major conductor in the world. Later in
life, Schoenberg would credit not only Dehmel’s poem for his inspiration but
Brahms and Mahler as well. Interestingly, both the poem and Schoenberg’s music
were condemned back in the day for their frank sexuality. Maybe that’s why they
became so famous. In any case, Gardner provides us with a notably expressive
presentation of the score. While his reading is not so glamorized or
Romanticized as Karajan’s nor so incisive as Stokowski’s--older recordings that
easily come to mind--it gets to the heart of the music’s passion and turmoil in
perhaps more concise terms. Of course, it’s hard to match the sheer sensuality
of the Berlin strings. Still, Gardner well captures the extremes of sadness,
reflection, and forgiveness expressed in the poem, and without exaggeration.
It’s true that a few listeners may miss some of Schoenberg’s lush harmonies
here, which tend to get a little lost in the unfolding of the story, but
Gardner makes up for it with the lucidity of his musical storytelling.

The final work on the agenda is Lieder des Abschieds
(“Songs of Farewell,” 1920-21) by Austrian-born composer and conductor Erich
Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957). Korngold may be better recognized today for his
film scores (Captain Blood, The Sea Hawk, The Adventures of
Robin Hood) but he wrote a large body of serious classical music as well,
including these four vocal settings for tenor and orchestra. Again the
connection to Dehmel’s poem is slender at best, but inside the booklet notes we
find the heading “German Orchestral Songs/Verklate Nacht” so maybe that
explains it. Whatever, tenor Stuart Skelton and Maestro’s Gardner manage to
convey a lovely, poignant mood in the piece, with the orchestra keeping a safe
distance in the more sensitive and affecting parts.

Producer Brian Pidgeon and engineer Ralph Couzens recorded
the music at Phoenix Concert Hall, Fairfield Halls, Croydon, England in March
2020. They made it for hybrid SACD; that is, playback in 2-channel stereo via a
regular CD player and 2-channel and multichannel via an SACD player. I listened
in 2-channel SACD.

Clearly, what Chandos Records were going for here was as
natural a sound as possible, with no bright edginess accompanying any sort
pretense to audiophile clarity. Yet, the sound is quite clear and natural, so
I’d say they succeeded, even though some listeners not used to such things may
think it’s too soft for their taste. The sound is also moderately dynamic,
evident from the low initial volume. Trust me: It gets plenty loud enough as it
goes along, the dynamic range being relatively wide. There is also good
orchestral depth and a broad and well-balanced frequency response.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

From Holland with Love (CD review)

Waltzes I've
Saved for You. André Rieu, Johann Strauss Orchestra. Philips 314 522 933-2.

By John J. Puccio

Maybe I'm a sucker
for sentimentality, but just as I liked Ofra Harnoy's recording of
romantically-paced, vibrato-prone Dvorak (RCA) over twenty years ago and which
I listened to at about the same time, I enjoyed this disc of old favorites from
violinist André Rieu the more I listened to it. This is saying a lot, too,
considering that I’m not particularly fond of overrated superstar performers
with tens of millions of records to their credit.

Playing with a band
Rieu formed in 1987, the Johann Strauss Orchestra, and reminiscent of Willi
Boskovsky's old Vienna Johann Strauss Orchestra, the conductor-violinist
directs vigorous, lusty, sometimes boisterous, always zesty, and ultimately
joyous performances of waltzes and polkas by the Strausses, Lehar, Gruber, and
others.

Andre Rieu

However, I wasn't
instantly won over. During the first few selections I feared Rieu was only
playing to the galleries, trying too hard to foist pop culture on the masses,
commercializing and vulgarizing old favorites. His way with Anton Karas’s Third
Man theme seemed to me especially romanticized, as did the opening
selection, a medley of Strauss and colleagues' tunes. But I soon came to
recognize Rieu's sincerity and joined in the spirit of the festivities.
Evidently, the Strausses themselves had a high time with their music in concert
and expected their listeners to do likewise. So, don't count on subtlety; Rieu
plays for fun and merriment and hardly with subtlety or refinement. 

Producer Ruud Jacobs
and engineer Ronald Prent recorded the music at Wijngrachttheater, Kerkrade,
and Philips Classics released it in 1994. The sound they obtained appropriately
fits the style of the music making. It's big and bold, meaning close, and
recorded in a fairly resonant venue, making the smallish, twenty-piece Johann
Strauss Orchestra (which has subsequently grown much larger) seem bigger than
it is. Interestingly, the program concludes with a fairly direct interpretation
of "Roses from the South," almost as though Rieu were saying,
"See, I can play it straight, too!" If you like traditional Viennese
waltzes but can also keep an open mind, you might enjoy this collection.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Viennafest (CD review)

Erich Kunzel, Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. Telarc CD-80547.



It had been a while since I last heard the late Erich Kunzel and his Cincinnati Pops doing a record for Telarc, so it was fun renewing an old friendship. Having remembered Kunzel's work with Telarc's Straussfest discs, I prepared myself for something a bit unusual in the way of waltzes and polkas, and that's exactly what Kunzel delivers. However, I didn't find it always in a good way.



In Viennafest we get a mixture of the traditional and the novel, all of it done up in reasonably good taste. The disc starts with an appropriately rousing curtain raiser, the "Radetzky March" by Strauss, Sr., and done in loud, boisterous, if somewhat mechanical fashion, followed by the overture from The Gypsy Baron. Then we have a polka, "The Huntsman," with a horse whinnying for effect.



Here are a few more selections, including one of the more controversial items on the program, the "Voices of Spring" waltz with a vocal part sung by soprano Tracy Dahl that you'll either love or hate, depending on what you're used to. A couple more novelty polkas come next, "At the Double" and Eduard Strauss's "At Full Steam," both featuring suitable sound effects. After those are Franz Lehar with the "Gold and Silver" waltzes and the "Siren of the Dance" waltzes from The Merry Widow.



Josef Lanner's "Court Ball" waltz is particularly nice, Robert Stolz's "Two Hearts in Three-Quarter Time" is delightful, and Strauss, Jr.'s overture to Die Fledermaus is as charming as ever. The proceedings come to a close with a fairly schmaltzy rendition of Rudolf Sieczynski's "Vienna, City of My Dreams," but what are you going to do: It is what it is.

Erich Kunzel

Although Erich Kunzel may have sold probably more albums than almost anyone, he was never among my favorite conductors, generally taking things a little too matter of factly for my taste. This is especially noticeable in the aforementioned "Radetsky March" and also in the Lehar numbers, even if he is certainly felicitous enough in "Voices of Spring." Still, I prefer Willi Boskovsky, Herbert von Karajan, Lorin Maazel, Andre Reiu, and others in Strauss material to Kunzel's more relatively straight-arrow, largely uninspiring approach.



Telarc recorded the album using Super Bit Mapping Direct Stream Digital at the Music Hall, Cincinnati, Ohio in February 2000. The resultant sound is very smooth, as we have come to expect from this company, the bass drum always at the fore, with decent stage imaging, and a wide dynamic range. Nevertheless, the sound also appears to me a little thin in the midrange while at the same time a bit shy on the sparkle I had expected, as though Telarc had recorded things a tad more distantly than normal for them.



Anyway, the collection will please most of Kunzel's fans, even though I'm not sure any of the old Strauss family themselves would have usually had so large an orchestra at their command. Whatever, the current Johann Strauss Orchestra under Andre Reiu with its considerably fewer players (about two dozen or so) produces a more lustrous and transparent sound, and for a big, full ensemble it's still hard to beat the Vienna or Berlin Philharmonics.



JJP



To listen to a few brief excerpts from this album, click below:

Lehar: Overtures and Waltzes (CD review)

Michael Jurowski, Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra. CPO 999 891-2.



Apart from the operetta The Merry Widow, you don't hear much of the music of Franz Lehar (1870-1948) anymore. I suppose his brand of slightly schmaltzy romanticism has long since become passé. And when an album like this one of the man's orchestral music does come along, some people no doubt compare it to Willi Boskovsky's sprightly, mid-Eighties recording for EMI. Fortunately, most of the material on conductor Michael Jurowski's 2003 release with the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra is different from that included on the Boskovsky disc, so Jurowski's program makes an attractive complement to the older recording.



The only partial duplication is the music from The Merry Widow, as we might expect, with Boskovsky giving us a briefer synopsis and Jurowski the longer, more complete overture. While I still prefer Boskovsky's lighter, bouncier way with things, certainly Jurowski provides plenty of energy and enthusiasm.



In addition, Jurowski gives us the waltzes Altwiener Liebeswalzer ("Old Viennese Love Waltz"), Wilde Rosen ("Wild Roses Waltz"), Adria Walzer ("Adriatic Waltz"), and the Grutzner Waltz, plus the overtures to Clo-Clo and Der Gottergatte ("Divine Spouses"). The conductor plays each of these pieces with sparkle and wit, with an orchestra that apparently knows the music well and is not ashamed to share it with the world.



CPO's big, lush sound, combined with the relatively large size of Jurowski's orchestra, appeared to me a bit overwhelming in the opening Merry Widow music, especially compared to the slightly smaller ensemble Boskovsky uses. Nevertheless, the ear adjusts. The sonics seem decently spread out across the sound stage, and they project a good deal of warmth and resonance, if rather modest depth of field. The result is reasonably natural and realistic to the concert hall, but it may not win over a lot of audiophile admirers.



JJP



To listen to a few brief excerpts from this album, click here:

The Never-Ending Waltz (CD review)

Erich Kunzel, Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. Telarc CD-80668.

Every album seems to
need a gimmick these days. With Telarc’s The
Never-Ending Waltz the deal was to string together snippets of famous
waltzes into a continuous fifty-odd-minute stream. Erich Kunzel and the
Cincinnati Pops Orchestra play the music beautifully, of course, and, to be
snide for a second, if you have an elevator in your house, it will do wonders for
the ride.

As I sat listening,
I couldn’t help thinking of those old “101 Strings Play the Classics” records
of the 1950’s and 60’s, where they would give you about one or two minutes of
every famous classical piece you could think of. The possibilities are endless,
of course. With today’s writable CD’s, DVD’s, Blu-rays, MP3’s and all, people
could take their own favorite Beethoven symphony movements and create their own
new symphony. Let’s see, the first movement of the Sixth, the slow movement of the Fifth,
the Scherzo from the Seventh, and maybe a big finale with the
ending of the Ninth.

There is a method to
this collection of excerpts from Kunzel and the Pops, though: While they play
the music without interruption, they actually divide it into eight categories.
They devote the first nine minutes or so to the waltzes of Johann Strauss, Jr.;
then the next section, called “Vienna Waltzes,” includes music by Lanner,
Ivanovici, Lehar, etc.; followed by “Operetta Waltzes,” “Opera Waltzes,”
“Waldteufel Waltzes,” “Concert Waltzes,” “Ballet Waltzes,” and, finally,
“Tchaikovsky Waltzes.” So, Kunzel and his crew do cover the field. And, to be
fair, the album does make for wonderful background music. The Cincinnati Pops
play with a full, lush smoothness that is quite fetching, and Kunzel does have
the measure of the music.

If it’s only lovely
snippets of musical wallpaper you’re after, this album serves its purpose.
Besides, who can tell, maybe it will encourage fledgling classical fans to buy
complete sets of the material this album includes. Indeed, what the disc did
best for me was make me want to listen to the original tunes in their entirety.

Telarc released the
disc in 2006, and the sound is good, as we have come to expect from this
source, especially in its imaging and its sweet ambient bloom. Still, it seemed
just a touch softer to me, more slightly vague and muffled, than Telarc’s best
stuff. Maybe I was just in a bad mood when I did my listening, or maybe I had
my ears plugged up from a summer allergy. Who knows. Or maybe it was that the
music appeared to me more lightweight than usual from Kunzel, and it influenced
how I heard it. The album has no doubt sold a ton of copies in its time, and
for its kind, the disc more than adequately fulfills its goals.

To listen to several brief excerpts from this album, click
here:

JJP

Lehar: Wiener Frauen, highlights (CD review)

Anke Hoffmann, soprano; Anneli Pfeffer, soprano; Peter Minich, tenor. Helmuth Froschauer, WDD Rundfunkchoir and Rundrunkorchester. CPO 999 326-2.

Hungarian composer Franz Lehar (1870-1948) is the fellow who gave Johann Strauss, Jr. a run for his money, or, if you will, succeeded the Viennese waltz king and continued on for many decades after Strauss's death. Lehar produced a number of charming operettas, the most familiar of which are probably The Merry Widow (1905), Count of Luxemburg (1909), and The Land of Smiles (1929).

What we have here, though, is Lehar's 1902 operetta debut, Wiener Frauen ("Viennese Women"), a delightfully lightweight affair that seems at any moment to be lifted by a breeze and float off into the distance. Or maybe this is simply the way Maestro Frschauer and his company perform it. I rather suspect they give it their all, and all was not quite enough to lift it to any substantial heights.

For listeners unfamiliar with the work--and that would include most of us since I'm not sure how often it's ever been recorded before, even in highlights--Wiener Frauen is typically comic and slight. It starts with a rather lengthy overture almost ten minutes long that contains the essence of the music, and much of it is quite appealing. Unfortunately, CPO do not include a libretto with this highlights disc, so you'll have to figure out what's being sung on your own. But they do include a booklet insert that lays out the general outlines of the plot. Or you can just do as I did and enjoy the delicious melodies and waltzes, many of which point toward Lehar's later music.



The sound is another matter, however. While there is nothing wrong with it per se, a digital recording made between 2003 and 2005, it doesn't really sparkle, which is a shame because the music itself certainly does. The low end could be deeper, the midrange could be more transparent, the highs could be more brilliant, and the stage imaging could be deeper. In its favor, voices are smooth and natural.



Oddly, perhaps, the disc also includes two overtures (Der Gottergatte and Wo die Lerch singt) recorded in 1971 and 1972 that sound better than the newly recorded operetta. The 1971 recording in particular has greater presence and dimensionality. I guess not everything improves with age.



JJP