"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross."
-- Sinclair Lewis
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Happy New Year from all of us here at DWT!
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by Ken
For this new year, I thought I'd bring back a Sunday Classics triple toast (with trimmings) I whipped up for last New Year's, with assists from assorted participants in that greatest of operettas, Johann Strauss Jr.'s Die Fledermaus, beginning with this immortal (if hard to translate-in-song) pearl of wisdom:
Richard Leech (t), Alfred; Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Rosalinde; Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990
[in English] Richard Tucker (t), Alfred; Marguerite Piazza (s), Rosalinde; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Eugene Ormandy, cond. Live performance, Jan. 20, 1951
[Note that the English translation doesn't even attempt to retain the sense of the original. But just listen to the sounds being made by the young Richard Tucker! Note that he's also the Alfred of American Columbia's recording of Fledermaus based on this Met production.]
NOW ON TO OUR TOASTS, OR ALMOST
Three New Year's toasts from Die Fledermaus, starting with the one in Act I that's excerpted above, with this invaluable lesson taught by the Alfred, a tenor (yes, in "real" life) who never lets anything get him down. But first, in accordance with what was common Sunday Classics practice, we start at the beginning, with the Overture.
J. STRAUSS Jr.: Die Fledermaus: Overture
Vienna Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. Decca, recorded June 1960
Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded, November 1990
Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Ackermann, cond. EMI, recorded June 1959
Bavarian State Orchestra, Carlos Kleiber, cond. Live performance, Dec. 31, 1974
We've heard all of these performances before, but let me say again -- as I do each time the Karajan-Decca Fledermaus comes up -- that it's one of the handful of recordings I would offer in evidence of Karajan's greatness as a conductor, along with, I think, his first DG Beethoven symphony cycle (you can hear how hard he worked on that set, not in the effort but in the results), the DG Ring cycle, and the EMI Fidelio.
Sunday Classics: Why I'm crazy about "Die Fledermaus"
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At Prince Orlofsky's (Act II), at the Bavarian State Opera
DETECTIVE GREGGS: Boring, ain't we? CONFIDENTIAL INFORMANT BUBS: How y'all do what you do every day and not want to get high? That's what I be asking.
-- from "The Pager," Season 1, Episode 5 of The Wire
by Ken
Maybe I should explain that Bubs's perception of acute futility has been prompted by watching Detectives Greggs (Sonja Sohn) and McNulty (Dominic West) on a stakeout while waiting for his ride back downtown. But if this doesn't resonate wildly for you, I'm thinking you must be one of those lucky people whose life is warpped up in activities and pastimes that provide more satisfaction and stimulation than is the case for most of the people I know.
There is, for all of us leading such lives, that irresistible urge to get the fuck away from it all, to get outside, beyond, or some such damn place. And this, for me, is the overpowering appeal of Johann Strauss's masterpiece, Die Fledermaus. And amazingly this appeal cuts across class lines, from the bored upper class represented by Gabriel von Eisenstein and his wife Rosalinde down to the servant class represented by their maid Adele. And thanks to the genius of Strauss's librettists Carl Haffner and Richard Genée (and of course the sources they drew on), for one and all that "someplace" to get away to turns out to be the very same place: the ball thrown by the Russian prince Orlofsky, who has raised boredom to something like an art.
It gets even better, because this need for getaway not only drives all the characters to made-up stories but produces stories within stories and, ultimately, unknown to all of them, a still larger story lurking behind the whole craziness.
For tonight, my only ambition is to get our three central characters from the Eisenstein abode (Act I) to Prince Orlofsky's gathering (Act II). (No, we're not even going to touch Act III.)
Sunday Classics: Beginning a "Fledermaus" New Year's -- "Happy is he who forgets what can't be changed anyway"
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Laura Albino as Rosalinde and Keith Klassen as Alfred in Toronto last January
J. STRAUSS II: Die Fledermaus: Act I, "Glücklich ist, wer vergisst, was doch nicht zu ändern ist"
ALFRED, later joined by ROSALINDE: Happy is he who forgets what can't be changed anyway.
Richard Leech (t), Alfred; Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Rosalinde; Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990
by Ken
Sometimes these music posts take shape just the way they formed in my head, which is swell, sometimes. (Sometimes you wish they hadn't.) More often they balk and resist, or -- at happier times -- take on a life of their own. I think that's what's happening this weekend.
Some of you may recall from last week's holiday posts devoted to Part I of Handel's Messiah that this week we were scheduled to do the same sort of thing with Part I The Childhood of Christ, Berlioz's always-unexpected and deeply moving oratorio. And we'll get to that eventually. But I thought for this more carefree holiday weekend we would go in a different direction, ringing in the new year with a frequent New Year's celebration vehicle, Johann Strauss II's operetta Die Fledermaus.
Tomorrow night in a special New Year's Eve edition of Sunday Classics we're going to be crashing the masquerade ball at Prince Orlofsky's, where by three quite different routes three members of the household of Gabriel von Eisenstein will find themselves -- in disguise, of course -- in attendance, none of them knowing that the others are there. How this comes to pass we'll hear a little more of in the click-through, but for now I thought we'd hear the whole scene of which we've just heard that juicy morsel from near the beginning.
To set the scene: On the very day when Herr von Eisenstein is due to turn himself in for a brief prison sentence for some indecorous behavior, his wife Rosalinde's ex-boyfriend, an Italian tenor named Alfred, has turned up hoping to renew auld acquaintance. It's Alfred who espouses the giddily sensible philosophy of life we heard above. And for once I think we need to at least look at it in the original language, which is impossible to translate with the economy and rhyming brio of the German:
Glücklich ist, wer vergisst, was doch nicht zu ändern ist.
Three lines, note, of three three, and seven syllables, respectively, neatly rhyming -- bubbling over almost irresistibly.
Naturally Fledermaus is often performed in the local language, and translation is always a near-insoluble ordeal. In addition the kinds of problems I've suggested with these lines, there's the problems of tone. There's a tendency in particular to resort to cartoony "cuteness," which changes the character of the piece. (Of course as many German-language performances show, it's quite easy to transform the tone of the piece in this direction even in the original, but when the text you're singing performs the task for you, this particular battle is lost before the first shot is fired.)
The translation we're going to hear in a moment, by contrast, seems to me quite clever, and even singable -- good enough that you think somebody really ought to set it to music. Certainly Johann Strauss didn't, and especially not to this music. The problem is that the English text is hardly even related to what the characters are singing at the moment. Oh well, it's a nice performance musically and vocally.
To finish setting the scene: Eisenstein has already made his departure, presumably (or so Rosalinde thinks) to make his way to prison. Alfred, wearing Eisenstein's dressing gown, makes his presence known, and he and Rosalinde are flirting and sparring when who should appear but the prison governor Frank, come to haul the master of the house off to the pokey. Naturally he assumes that the gentleman in the dressing gown is his quarry, and Rosalinde is hardly in a position to disabuse him.
Die Fledermaus: Act I finale: Scene, Alfred-Rosalinde; Scene, Frank-Rosalinde-Alfred (English translation by Mel Mandel and Norman Sachs)
Sergio Franchi (t), Alfred; Anna Moffo (s), Rosalinde; John Hauxvell (b), Frank; Vienna State Opera Orchestra, Oskar Danon, cond. RCA, recorded June 1963
Sunday Classics preview: Another taste of Old Vienna
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Seiji Ozawa and the Vienna Philharmonic kick off the 2002 Vienna New Year's Concert with a rousing performance of the Fledermaus Overture.
by Ken
In last night's preview we sampled Johann Strauss II's No. 2 operetta, The Gypsy Baron. Continuing our Viennese weekend, we advance to No. 1, Die Fledermaus. As I mentioned in the 2009 New Year's Strauss-family post I referenced last night, the chapter on Fledermaus was one of those I did for The Metropolitan Opera Guide to Recorded Opera, and instead of coming away not being able ever to hear another note of the damned thing, as I feared, I emerged from the saturation exposure crazy in love with the piece.
I don't see any need for much more yammering. If ever an overture spoke for itself, Fledermaus's does. For the recordings we're hearing tonight, I've noted the first appearance of the great Fledermaus waltz, not because it's better than the others, but because I'm thinking it's probably the operetta's best-known music, and then I thought it would be fun to hear the Overture along with the source of two of its most wonderful tunes, which are linked in the Overture as they are in the Act I trio, a singularly wonderful exhibition of musical crocodile tears.
Unbeknownst to all the others, each of the participants in this trio -- Gabriele von Eisenstein, his wife Rosalinde, and their maid Adele -- have been invited to a ball at the home of the rich Russian prince Orlofsky. Officially, Eisenstein is headed to prison to serve an eight-day sentence he has been given; the highly theatrical Adele is off to take care of her poor, poor sick aunt; and left-behind Rosalinde is facing eight days of lonely torment. (As it happens, she is immediately joined by her old flame, the tenor Alfred, of whom we hear a snatch in the Philips version of the trio, in the spoken dialogue that I left in.)
J. STRAUSS II: Die Fledermaus (The Bat): Overture
Vienna Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. Decca, recorded June 1960 [waltz at 2:42, "So muss allein" at 3:52; "O je, o je" at 5:00]
Bavarian State Orchestra, Carlos Kleiber, cond. Live performance, Dec. 31, 1974 [waltz at 2:43, "So muss allein" at 3:53; "O je, o je" at 4:58]
Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990 [waltz at 2:45, "So muss allein" at 4:02; "O je, o je" at 5:15]
Die Fledermaus: Act I trio, "So muss allein ich bleibe" ("So I must remain alone") . . . "O je, o je, wie rührt mich dies" ("Oh dear, oh dear, how this touches me") . . . "Es gibt ein Wiedersehen" ("We'll see each other again")
ROSALINDE: So I must remain alone eight days without you! How am I to describe for you my suffering, how frightful! How will I bear it, being abandoned by my husband? To whom am I to lament my suffering? o God, how this touches me!
I shall think of you in the morning over coffee, when I go to give you one, see the empty cup, can offer you no greeting, in my misery I will surely drink it black and bitter. Ah!
EISENSTEIN: O God, how this touches me!
ALL THREE: O God, how this touches me!
ALL THREE: O dear, o dear, how this touches me! etc.
ROSALINDE: Where will our domestic circle be when midday comes around? For the beef as for the soup, for the roast, no husband! And when the veil of night falls, it will tear at me again. My pain will be monstrous.
ALL THREE: O dear, o dear, how this touches me! etc.
EISENSTEIN: What's the use of complaining? I'm quite losing my head!
ROSALINDE: My head is totally dazed.
ADELE: Mine is totally empty.
EISENSTEIN: Farewell, I must go now.
ALL THREE: But there remains one consolation so sweet.
ADELE: We'll see each other again!
ALL THREE: We'll see each other again! O God, how this touches me! O dear, o dear, how this touches me! etc.
[EISENSTEIN exits, followed by ADELE.]
Hilde Gueden (s), Rosalinde; Erika Köth (s), Adele; Waldemar Kmentt (t), Eisenstein; Vienna Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. Decca, recorded June 1960 ["O je, o je" at 1:23; "Es gibt" at 2:48]
Gundula Janowitz (s), Rosalinde; Carol Malone (s), Adele; Eberhard Wächter (b), Eisenstein; Bavarian State Orchestra, Carlos Kleiber, cond. Live performance, Dec. 31, 1974 ["O je, o je" at 1:25; "Es gibt" at 2:52]
Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Rosalinde; Edita Gruberová (s), Adele; Wolfgang Brendel (b), Eisenstein; Richard Leech (t), Alfred; Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990 ["O je, o je" at 1:32; "Es gibt" at 3:06]
Bear in mind that Johann II, like his father, made his living as a composer and conductor of his and his family's music with his own orchestra. So you could hardly blame him for trying to get the most mileage out of his own compositions. Last night we heard the Treasure Waltz he composed from Gypsy Baron music. Here is a Fledermaus-Quadrille.
J. STRAUSS II: Fledermaus-Quadrille, Op. 363
Vienna Philharmonic, Willi Boskovsky, cond. Decca
IN TOMORROW'S SUNDAY CLASSICS POST --
It's all overtures, all by one composer, and as I mentioned last night featuring some of the best performances of any music I've ever heard.
DON'T FORGET TOMORROW'S BIG CONTEST GIVEAWAY
As I mentioned, I happen to have an extra copy of the splendid CD we'll be featuring, which I'm prepared to give it away, but I'm not up to another failed contest. So the tentative deal is that I'm prepared to bestow it upon someone who does something to earn it.
Sunday Classics: There are good reasons why the great conductors bring their "A" game when they play the music of Johann Strauss II and his family
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On Thursday Daniel Barenboim ended his first Vienna New Year's Concert the way it's always ended, with the always-rousing Radetzky March by Papa Johann Strauss I, complete with the traditional audience participation. As I noted yesterday, the maestro added his own touch in his New Year's greeting: "We hope 2009 will be a year of peace in the world, and of human justice in the Middle East."
by Ken
This isn't so much "Change I Can Believe In" as "Change I Don't Get No Stinking Choice About." New Year's Day without Walter Cronkite hosting the Vienna New Year's Concert? For the first time since 1985? I don't think so.
This is no knock on Julie Andrews, the new host of the American telecast. Who could not love Julie Andrews? Still, New Year's Day without Walter? This is "Change That Sucks." (Okay, okay, I realize some kind of announcement was probably made at some point, and if I'd been paying attention, I wouldn't have been taken by surprise. Hey, there's a limit to the number of the world's problems I can worry about at any given moment.)
To be honest, for years now it's popped in my head every year that Walter couldn't go on forever, just like he couldn't go on forever as anchor and managing editor of the CBS Evening News. But have you noticed how crappy the news has gotten since Walter hung up his anchorman's hat? Oh, I don't mean that the news itself has been worse. How much worse could news get than the dreadful tidings Walter reported night after night about Vietnam? But at least when he was behind the desk we had the feeling, rightly or wrongly, that we were getting the news, more or less. It has often been said that when President Johnson lost Walter Cronkite on Vietnam, he lost the country, and I'm inclined to agree.
(This is not meant as a knock on Dan Rather, at least not entirely. I think Dan cared more about the integrity of the news than anyone else who's anchored a network newscast since Walter. But as Walter pointed out in his lovely memoir, A Reporter's Life, his own last CBS anchor contract or two began lifting the job out of the realm of news into that of big business. By Dan's time, with the kind of money the Big Three anchors were being paid, there was no possible question that the broadcasts were, above all, about the bucks.)
The photo above, by the way, is Walter in Vienna on New Year's Day 2005. Having him there each January 1 made for a new year you could believe in. Already I'm dubious about this entire 2009 enterprise.
(I hope at least that Walter remains "with it" enough to have withdrawn by choice from an assignment he's carried out since the Vienna telecasts began in 1985. For the record, he did turn 92 in November. I see that PBS has quoted him thusly: “Though ending this tradition comes with some sadness for me, I am very much looking forward to resuming the long-held custom of spending the holidays with my family and friends. I am also deeply honored that Julie Andrews has been chosen to carry on what has become a holiday high point for millions across America.” Happy holidays, Walter!)
The Andrews "kid" (if I've got the numbers right, she's just shy of 19 years younger than Walter) did fine. The script written for her thoughtfully put to rest my anxiety that I had somehow drifted off like Rip Van Winkle and missed the passing of the New Year's baton, with Julie mentioning that this was her first time on the job and later making gracious reference to Walter's long history at it.
While the writers may have gone a bit overboard establishing the point, Julie has been not only one of the most talented singers of the last half-century, but one of the most compulsively communicative musicians. She nailed down her qualifications for this gig when she recalled singing Johann Strauss's Voices of Spring (at least I think it was Voices of Spring; a bunch of the Strauss waltzes have vocal versions) in her vaudeville days. She would have been a child then, since she was barely past 20 when she electrified the world in My Fair Lady -- that was 1956, in case anyone's counting. I envy the folks in those vaudeville audiences who got an early earful of this amazing talent. The tradition of the Vienna New Year's Concerts
Now, just to be clear, I'm not a big fan of all the cheesy theatrics and hokey production numbers and dopey dancing stuffed into the New Year's Concert telecast, and the American version seems to be substantially cheesier and hokier than any of the others. I don't wish the Lippizaner Stallions any harm (they're beautiful horses, after all), but really now, what's the point?
I would be happier just to have the concert broadcast straight, with perhaps some informed commentary on the musical selections. If that commentary were not only informed but entertaining, that would be okay too. But I guess it's felt that all the folderol is necessary to build an audience, and I've learned to live with it. Thanks to PBS's longstanding tradition of offering both an afternoon and an evening telecast on New Year's Day, this has come to be a reliably hopeful (and I mean hope you can believe in) way to usher in the new year.
If you're not familiar with the Vienna New Year's Concert tradition, each year the self-governing Vienna Philharmonic invites a conductor to lead a program mixing familiar and not-so-familiar repertory centered around Vienna's legendary Strauss family -- most prominently the Waltz King himself, Johann Strauss II (1825-1899), but often including music by his famous father, Johann I (1804-1849), and his talented brothers Josef (1827-1870) and Eduard (1835-1916), and also drawing from the many Vienna-centric composers who wrote in a similar vein, along with a certain amount of venturing farther afield. This year, for example, Maestro Barenboim honored the 200th anniversary of the death of Haydn by programming the finale of his Farewell Symphony. (We're going to be coming back to Haydn -- in the near future, I hope.)
Actually, Johann the Father is always represented in the New Year's Concert, because whatever else the particular year's conductor may choose to play, the concert always ends with three encores. The first is of the conductor's choosing, and isn't pre-announced, so there's always an element of surprise. But then, every year, come Johann the Son's best-known waltz, On the Beautiful Blue Danube, and Papa's clap-along Radetzky March.
You can't be serious! (Oh, but I am!)
There is a tendency, especially among those "serious" critics I work so hard to make fun of, to see this repertory, and therefore the New Year's Concert itself, as a musically lightweight, even kitschy affair. There is, for example, a staff critic on a major American newspaper who goes bonkers every time he encounters this music in concert instead of, say, offerings by Elliott Carter or Philip Glass or some no-talent noise-making nonentity, descending into a fit of pompous blithering that suggests one of the Strausses died owing him money. But that's just lazy, inattentive listening. In terms of communicative content, I don't find this music -- in particular that of Johann II -- at all lightweight.
Admittedly, it's not all on the same rarefied level, but you could hardly expect it to be with Johann II's opus numbers running up to 479 -- and that's by no means his total output. (Somebody had to do it, and the Marco Polo label eventually recorded a series covering the whole shebang.) He was most celebrated for his waltzes, and secondarily, as an up-tempo change of pace, his polkas, but there's a generous sprinkling of all sorts of other musical forms. The bulk of this colosssal orchestral output was written for use by his own orchestra, with which he earned enormous celebrity and a lot of money.
Strauss simultaneously had a career as a theater composer, and his greatest operettas, Die Fledermaus ("The Bat") and The Gypsy Baron, not only are enormously successful works in their own right but have overtures that are part of the standard orchestral repertory. Not surprisingly, they turn up frequently in the New Year's Concerts -- Maestro Barenboim launched this year's with the Gypsy Baron Overture, and followed it up with more Gypsy Baron material in the Treasure Waltz.
Fledermaus, as it happens, was one of the seven operas I took on for the Metropolitan Opera Guide to Recorded Opera. As much as I liked the piece going in, I worried that after spending so much time with it, I might never be able to bear another note of it. What happened was the opposite: that I fell much more deeply in love with it. One of these days we'll come back to it. Meanwhile, here's a link to a fine performance of the Overture, which among other things contains one of Strauss's great waltz tunes. (The performance is by the Vienna Philharmonic under Seiji Ozawa, from the 2002 Vienna New Year's Concert.)
A tiny bit of Strauss-waltz "anatomy"
Note that what we call "a Strauss waltz" doesn't consist of just a single catchy waltz tune. Each "waltz" is in effect a suite of waltzes, created for careful contrast as well as dramatic progress. (When the word waltz is included in the title, it's normally in the plural, Walzer, as in the Kaiser-Walzer -- technically the Emperor Waltzes, plural.) Formally speaking, there's always an introduction, drawing the listener in, whetting the musical appetite, building the mood, teasing with hints of the music to come. And the music that comes, the initial waltz into which the introduction leads, is almost always the "big gun," what the composer considered the "killer" among the succession of waltzes to be heard, which he was then free to bring back at will.
No doubt the most arresting opening of a Strauss waltz is the shimmering tremolo in the violins which launches The Blue Danube, and always draws applause when the New Year's Concert audience is "surprised" to hear it in that second-encore position. Over that tremolo, the horns -- first a solo horn, then building to all four -- give us a tease of the "big tune."
Nor is there any doubt, I think, that nobody has ever made more striking, more unexpected, or more effective use of this remarkable introduction, or for that matter of On the Beautiful Blue Danube as a whole, than Stanley Kubrick did in his epic 2001: A Space Odyssey. Here, alas reduced to "clip" form, is the bone hurled in the air by the ape at the end of the "Dawn of Man" sequence and being transformed into the space ship making its gradual approach to the Space Station:
(The performance is by the Berlin Philharmonic under Herbert von Karajan.)
The "big three" (or four) waltzes -- and a polka
Now, much as I love The Blue Danube, it's really not even my favorite Strauss waltz, which would probably be either the grand and regal Emperor, which begins audaciously in march rhythm (here's a performance by the Vienna Philharmonic under Georges Pretre, from the 2008 Vienna New Year's Concert), or the nostalgically evocative Tales from the Vienna Woods, especially if there's a zither on hand to play the Gypsy-suggestive zither solos. The composer thoughtfully provided an alternative scoring for sadly zitherless orchestras, using a small string ensemble, but there's really no substitute for a zither. (If you know the theme from The Third Man, then you know the zither. Here it is played in 1982 by the man who had played it for the film almost 40 years earlier -- the world's most famous zither player, Anton Karas. Vienna Woods and Third Man theme, that's about the limits of my zither repertory.)
Note that the Big Three are literally bigger than the usual run of Strauss waltzes, often pushing beyond the 10-minute mark, all the way up to, and in some performances even over, 11 minutes. I would also add that in my personal Strauss waltz pantheon, Artist's Life comes ever so close to the Big Three. Thinking back to my shocked discovery, back in my active score-buying days, that you couldn't buy collections of 10 or 25 or 50 Strauss waltzes, but instead had to buy miniature scores individually, I found myself wondering what I had wound up buying, and went to the appropriate shelf to check. What did I find? The Emperor, Vienna Woods, Blue Danube, and Artist's Life -- my Big Four! (Actually, Dover did eventually publish a volume of eight of the waltzes in full score. One of these days I suppose I really should get hold of that.)
I'm afraid I've given short shrift to Johann II's non-waltz output. Probably the best-known of his zippy polkas is the whirlwind Unter Donner und Blitz ("Amid Thunder and Lightning" -- in German, of course, especially at the holidays, it has a distinctly reindeerish echo). Here's a performance by the Vienna Philharmonic under Herbert von Karajan, from the 1987 Vienna New Year's Concert.
But is it great music? (Of course it is!)
Now there's no way I can "prove" that this is great music, worthy to stand alongside the finest output of more "serious" composers, although I do indeed believe it. I might point out that the "other" Strauss, the great Richard, not only was unembarrassed by the legacy of the (unrelated) Viennese Strausses, but paid homage to it in the glorious waltzes with which he festooned Der Rosenkavalier -- as if he wanted to prove that he did have some of that Strauss blood running in his veins!
Or I could point out that almost every conductor has felt the need to test himself in this repertory, and that most of the great conductors cherished it. In it they often voiced the deepest and most generous aspects of their artistic personalities -- even artists whose personalities didn't have especially generous aspects.
The rich humanity of conductors like Bruno Walter (who unfortunately never got around to doing a stereo Strauss LP), John Barbirolli, Josef Krips, and Rudolf Kempe shines forth in this music. And orchestral wizards like Herbert von Karajan and Eugene Ormandy achieved some of their most persuasive orchestral wizardry. (Karajan recorded so much of this material, for EMI, Decca, and DG, that I can't begin to keep track of what's available, but there's a midprice DG single-CD selection. Sony BMG has a budget Ormandy CD.)
The material showcased the mastery of specialists like Arthur Fiedler and his Boston Pops (first for RCA, then for DG; there doesn't seem to be much of either in print, but it's worth watching for out-of-print CD issues) and longtime Vienna Philharmonic concertmaster Willi Boskovsky (first for Decca, then for EMI -- the Decca performances, with his old orchestra, are better played and recorded; there are modestly priced six-CD compilations of both the Decca and EMI material, and an inexpensive Decca CD of waltzes and an even less expensive EMI twofer of 19 waltzes -- but again, just waltzes).
The mixture of earthy weight and sparkle which Fritz Reiner achieved in his collaboration with the Chicago Symphony holds up remarkably well on the well-filled Vienna CD of Strauss family and related waltz material, including a short Reiner-arranged suite of Richard Strauss's Rosenkavalier waltzes in the RCA Living Stereo series (there's also a hybrid SACD edition). I've got an enjoyable CD of highly individual yet persuasively idiomatic performances by Robert Stolz, who came to this material as perhaps the last link in the line of Viennese operetta composers descended from Strauss, but RCA once had a big box -- five LPs, was it? -- of Stolz conducting music by the school of Viennese operetta composers. I wonder what's become of all that. I've also gotten a lot of mileage out of a three-LP Vox Box, which I've never seen on CD, of Music of the Strauss Family played by "Eduard Strauss and his Orchestra," the conductor turning out to be a great-nephew of the Waltz King (the grandson of his brother Eduard). While the performances have a scrappy quality, they also have plenty of spunk. The set was labeled "Volume 1," but I never heard tell of a Volume 2.
All of that said, nobody produced more sheer radiance in this repertory than, perhaps surprisingly, Karl Boehm -- in a relatively late DG LP with the Vienna Philharmonic. At under 47 minutes it wasn't terribly generous even for an LP, and that made for an even chintzier CD. Still, if you see it, I suggest pouncing on it.
In my book, Barenboim has proved himself in important chunks of repertory (e.g., Mozart piano concertos and operas, Bruckner symphonies, Wagner's Ring cycle and other operas) the most imaginative and probing conductor of recent times, and his first Vienna New Year's Concert struck me on casual first hearing as a major cut above the norm in interpretive reach. Even in the wonderfully dopey Radetzky March he doesn't push as hard for cheap effect as most conductors, and the music actually opens up a little.
As for brothers Josef and Eduard --
For a taste of Johann II's brother Josef, in this year's New Year's Concert Maestro Barenboim conducted a gorgeous performance of his Sounds of the Spheres waltz, illustrated with some gorgeously appropriate Alpine vistas. As for baby brother Eduard, he's probably best known now, for better or worse, for his Bahn frei ("Clear Track," as in railroad track) polka. This is one of those pieces, like Leonard Bernstein's Candide Overture (see the link below), I can listen to over and over and over. It obviously also made a lasting impression on Keith Olbermann, a fellow lover of the great Jean Shepherd's old shaggy-dog radio show. Jean used it as his signoff theme, and Keith uses it now for the "Oddball" segment of Countdown.
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Sunday Classics: Beginning a "Fledermaus" New Year's -- "Happy is he who forgets what can't be changed anyway" (continued)
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Georges Prêtre conducts the Vienna Philharmonic in the Overture to Die Fledermaus at the 2010 Vienna New Year's Day Concert.
IN THE OVERTURE WE'VE HEARD BITS OF THE TRIO THAT GETS THE THREE EISENSTEIN HOUSEHOLD MEMBERS TO THE BALL
First Rosalinde shows off the depths of her despair at her impending abandonment by her prison-bound husband.
ROSALINDE: I must remain alone, then, eight whole days without you! I can't begin to describe to you how horribly I'll suffer! How shall I ever endure my husband's absence? To whom shall I recount my grief? EISENSTEIN: O God, how upset I am!
Gundula Janowitz (s), Rosalinde; Eberhard Wächter (b), Eisenstein; Bavarian State Orchestra, Carlos Kleiber, cond. Live performance, Dec. 31, 1974
This leads directly into a bit of an explosion from all three secretly ball-bound grievers.
ROSALINDE, ADELE, and EISENSTEIN: Oh goodness, how upset I am!
Gundula Janowitz (s), Rosalinde; Eberhard Wächter (b), Eisenstein; Carol Malone (s), Adele; Bavarian State Orchestra, Carlos Kleiber, cond. Live performance, Dec. 31, 1974
NOW I THINK WE MIGHT HEAR THE OVERTURE AGAIN
We'll be hearing the full scene on Sunday, but now I think we might listen to the Overture again, from the two performances we've been sampling. (Two of the three, actually, I guess. I suppose I could have made a digital dub of the Overture from the Danon-RCA performance, but I didn't. UPDATE: Well, I did -- it's an energetic, committed performance. By the way, we last heard Oskar Danon in a very different assignment: Borodin's Prince Igor.)
Die Fledermaus: Overture
Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990 Bavarian State Orchestra, Carlos Kleiber, cond. Live performance, Dec. 31, 1974 Vienna State Opera Orchestra, Oskar Danon, cond. RCA, recorded June 1963
AND NOW LET'S HEAR WHAT HAPPENS ONCE EISENSTEIN HAS MADE HIS EXIT, AND ALFRED HIS REAPPEARANCE
J. STRAUSS II: Die Fledermaus: Act I: Alfred-Rosalinde scene; Frank-Rosalinde-Alfred trio
Richard Leech (t), Alfred; Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Rosalinde; Tom Krause (b), Frank; Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990
[1/1/2012] Why I'm crazy about "Die Fledermaus" (continued)
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LET'S GET OUR PEOPLE TO ORLOFSKY'S
ADELE GETS A LETTER FROM HER SISTER
Of the three members of the Eisenstein household who find their way to Prince Orlofsky's ball, it's Adele who makes the largest leap of fantasy, having had the misfortune to be made by Mother Nature a mere maid. It's also Adele who by temperament whips up the greatest drama, because she is by temperament a performer. It hardly comes as a surprise when in disguise at the ball she fantasizes herself as an actress. Like a lot of disappointed-in-life folks I've known, she makes her life itself a performance.
She makes one of opera's more theatrical entrances, singing up a storm of hope and frustration.
Ha-ha-ha-ha! Yes! Here writes my sister Ida, she's in the ballet: "Today, we will be at a villa where all is off and running. Prince Orlofsky, that rich fast fellow, is giving a grand supper there this evening. If you could filch an outfit grom your noble mistress and elegantly present yourself, I will gladly escort you there. Just get the night off and I'll bet we'll have a lot of fun; there is never boredom there."
Thus writes my sister Ida. Ah, I believe it, I've no doubt I'd love to be a part of it, but it's a difficult business! If only I could get away: if I only knew how! Ah, if I were that little dove there, I could fly about, hither and yon, and in bliss and pleasure wwing through that ethereal blue yonder. Ah, Mother Nature, why did you make me only a lady's chambermaid?
[in English]Patrice Munsel (s), Adele; Jan Peerce (t), Alfred; RCA Victor Orchestra, Fritz Reiner, cond. RCA, recorded c1950 Wilma Lipp (s), Adele; Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Ackermann, cond. EMI, recorded June 1959
EISENSTEIN'S SUMMONS TO A SUPPER
Now here is Herr von Eisenstein, prison-bound this very evening, being seduced (I don't think there's any other word for it) by his supposed friend Doctor Falke to take a small detour this evening, to a little supper party he happens to know about.
DR. FALKE: Come with me to the supper party, it is quite close by! Before you, in that quiet chamber, work off that hangover, you must enjoy life, be a loyal brother! Ballerinas lightly floating in the most dazzling attire, gind you fast with chains of roses, when the tempting polka sounds! Old chap, believe me, that rejuvenates! To rousing tunes in the glittering ballroom. With charming sirens at the divine meal, the hours will fly by in desire and jest. There you will recover from all pain: if prison is not to hurt you, you must do something to distract yourself! Do you see that? EISENSTEIN: I see that! But my wife must know nothing of this. DR. FALKE: You will tenderly kiss her good-bye, and say,"Farewell, my sweet kitten!" EISENSTEIN: No, no, I'll say, "My little mouse, my sweet little mouse!" Then as a cat, I'll creep out myself, out of the house. DR. FALKE: Sweet little mouse! Then you, as a cat, will creep out of the house. And while she is fast asleep, you'll go, instead of to jail, with me to the heavenly feast! EISENSTEIN: With you to the heavenly feast! DR. FALKE: I'll introduce you as a foreigner: you'll be Marquis Renard [Marquis Fox] there! Then no one will guess; d you want to? EISENSTEIN: Ah, I would be willing. DR. FALKE: You must! EISENSTEIN: If only . . . DR. FALKE: You must allow yourself, for it is necessary for your health. EISENSTEIN: Yes, I think you are right. As an excuse, it's not bad. DR. FALKE: If prison is not to hurt you, you must do something to distract yourself! So you'll come? EISENSTEIN: If prison is not to do me harm, I must do something to distract myself! Who can resist? Yes, count me in! DR. FALKE: To the devil with your glue-boiling! BOTH: A supper party is beckoning us, like one never seen before, an array of beautiful girls; boundlessly, we'll laugh and sing! Lalala, lalala, etc.
[in English]Ljuba Welitsch (s), Rosalinde; Charles Kullman (t), Gabriel von Eisenstein; Lily Pons (s), Adele; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Eugene Ormandy, cond. Columbia/Sony, recorded Dec. 1950-Jan. 1951 [in English, abridged] Robert Merrill (b), Dr. Falke; James Melton (t), Gabriel von Eisenstein; RCA Victor Orchestra, Fritz Reiner, cond. RCA, recorded c1950 Walter Berry (b), Dr. Falke; Karl Terkal (t), Gabriel von Eisenstein; Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Ackermann, cond. EMI, recorded June 1959
ROSALINDE'S ARRIVAL AT THE BALL WILL BE A SURPRISE TO US, BUT SHE TOO HAS PLANS
Her summons comes between Acts I and II. But already she is highly aware of the presence of her hormonal ex-boyfriend Alfred, as we heard in Friday night's post. And so when the three members of the household take their mock-tearful leave of one another, the ladies in particular are giving performances worthy of enshrining on any stage.
Friday night we heard only two crucial snippets from the scene: Rosalinde's grief-laden opening lament, and the trio refrain in which we hear what's really on the characters' minds. I promised then that we would hear the whole scene today, and so we will. Note in particular the consolation announced by Adele: "Es gibt ein Wiedersehen,, literally "There will be an again-seeing" except that "Wiedersehen" is an exceedingly common German word -- bear in mind that "auf Wiedersehen" (to that again-seeing) is how Germans customarily say goodby.
ROSALINDE: So I must remain alone eight days without you. How should I describe to you my suffering, so dreadful! How will I bear it That my husband has left me? To whom shall I lament my suffering, O God, how this stirs me! I shall think of you In the morning over coffee, When I want to pour some for you, And see the empty cup, No greeting can I wave to you, In misery shall I surely Drink it black and bitter. Alas! EISENSTEIN: Ah, how this stirs me! ALL THREE: O God, how this stirs me! Oh dear, oh dear, how this stirs me! ROSALINDE: Where will the homey group be when midday comes around? With the roast beef, as with the soup, with the roast, no husband! And when sinks the nightly veil, it will again be torn for me, my pain will be monstrous! ALL THREE: Oh dear, oh dear, how this stirs me! etc. EISENSTEIN: Of what benefit is the complaining? I'm utterly losing my head! ROSALINDE: My head is quite dizzy. ADELE: I have mine right here. EISENSTEIN: Farewell, I must go now! ROSALINDE and ADELE: Farewell, now you (he) must go! ALL THREE: Yet there remains one sweet consolation! ADELE: There will be a reunion! ALL THREE: There will be a reunion! Oh God, how this stirs me! Oh dear, oh dear, how this stirs me! etc.
[in English]Ljuba Welitsch (s), Rosalinde; Charles Kullman (t), Gabriel von Eisenstein; Lily Pons (s), Adele; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Eugene Ormandy, cond. Columbia/Sony, recorded Dec. 1950-Jan. 1951 Gerda Scheyrer (s), Rosalinde; Wilma Lipp (s), Adele; Karl Terkal (t), Eisenstein; Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Ackermann, cond. EMI, recorded June 1959
AT THE BALL
ADELE IN HIGH-PERFORMANCE MODE
Despite their costumes, Adele recognizes her master, Eisenstein, or "Marquis Renard," who is so sure he recognizes his chambermaid that he calls her out. However, "Fräulein Olga" disabuses him witheringly -- our Adele is in high performance mode.
Die Fledermaus, Act II: Couplet, Adele, "Mein Herr Marquis"
ADELE: My dear Marquis, a man like you should better understand that. Therefore, I advise you to look more closely at people! This hand is surely far too fine, hahaha. This foot so dainty and small, hahaha. The manner of speaking which I have, my waist, my bustle, these would never be found on a lady's maid! You really must admit, this mistake was very comical! Yes, very comical, hahaha, is this matter, hahaha. So pardon me, hahaha, if I laugh, haha a! ADELE and GUESTS: Yes, very comical, hahaha, is this matter, hahaha! ADELE: You are very comical, Marquis! With this profile in Grecian style being a gift of nature; if this face doesn't say enough, just look at my figure! Ah, just look through your lorgnette, ah!, at this outfit, ah!, it seems to me that love has clouded your eyes! The image of your chambermaid has quite filled your heart! Now you see her everywhere. This is truly a very comic situation! es, very comical, hahaha, is this matter, hahaha, so pardon me, hahaha, if I laugh, hahaha! ADELE and GUESTS: Yes, very comical, hahaha, us this matter, hahaha.
Edita Gruberová (s), Adele; Vienna State Opera Chorus, Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded 1990
ROSALINDE AS A HUNGARIAN COUNTESS
Eisenstein does not recognize his wife, who has been rigged out by Dr. Falke with the identity of a Hungarian countess. The lunk goes so far as to attempt to seduce the countess (I came close to including this wonderful duet), who I think it's fair to say is in even higher-performance mode than Adele. When the guests, led by none other than Adele, challenge her to take off her mask, and question her Hungarianness, she responds defends her Magyar identity with one of the great operatic showpieces.
(We've already heard Regina Resnik as Prince Orlofsky (in the Karajan-Decca recording), in her later career as a mezzo. I thought it would be fun to hear her as a soprano.
Die Fledermaus, Act II: Csárdás, Rosalinde, "Klänge der Heimat" ("Sounds of my homeland")
ROSALINDE: Sounds of my homeland, you awaken my longing, call forth tears to my eyes! When I hear you, you songs of home, you draw me back, my Hungary, to you! O homeland, so wonderful, how clearly shines the sun there! How green your forests! How laughing the fields! Oh, land where I was so happy! Yes, your beloved image entirely fills my soul, your beloved image! And though I am far from you, ah so far, yours remains for all eternity my soul, ever there, dedicated to you alone! Oh, homeland so wondrous, how clearly shines the sun there! How green your forests! How laughing your fields! Oh, land, where I was so happy! Fire, zest for living, swell the true Hungarian breast, Hurrah! On to the dance, the Csárdás sounds so brightly! Brown girl, you must be my dancer; give me your arm quickly, dark-eyed child! Thirsty tipplers, grasp the cup, pass it in a circle quickly from hand to hand! Slurp the fire in the Tokay, give a toast from the fatherland! Ha! Fire, Zest for life swell the true Hungarian breast, Hurray! To the spirited dance the csárdás sounds loud and clear! La, la, la, la, la!
[in English, abridged]Regina Resnik (s), Rosalinde; RCA Victor Orchestra, Fritz Reiner, cond. RCA, recorded c1950 Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Rosalinde; Vienna State Opera Chorus, Vienna Philharmonic, André Previn, cond. Philips, recorded November 1990
AND EVENTUALLY THE ASSEMBLAGE IS REDUCED TO PLEASINGLY SODDEN DRUNKENNESS
I have just this one more excerpt on tap for tonight, as Dr. Falke who proposes a slobbering toast. (In the English-language performance you'll notice a weird upward harmonic lurch when the others join. George London has been singing the solo in downward transposition, as he did in the complete German-language recording made at the same time.)
DR. FALKE: Little brothers, little brothers and sisters we all want to be, all will agree with me! Little brothers, little brothers and sisters, adress each other with the familiar "du" for all eternity, just as today, when we think about it again tomorrow! First a kiss and then a "du." Du, du, du, forever! ALL: Little brothers, little brothers and sisters we all want to be, all will agree with me! Little brothers, little brothers and sisters Each address the other with the familiar "du" for all eternity, just as today, when we think about it again tomorrow! First a kiss and then a "du." Du, du, du, forever! First a kiss and then a "du." Du, du, du, du! Duidu, duidu, lalalala, etc.
[in English]George London (bs-b), Dr. Falke; et al.; Vienna Volksoper Chorus, Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Oskar Danon, cond. RCA, recorded June 1963 Eberhard Wächter (b), Dr. Falke; et al.; Philharmonia Chorus and Orchestra, Otto Ackermann, cond. EMI, recorded June 1959
