"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross."
-- Sinclair Lewis
Sunday, October 05, 2014
Ghost of Sunday Classics: Bruckner 9 -- what "cathedrals of sound"? With a detour through Wagner's "Ring" cycle
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BRUCKNER: Symphony No. 9 in D minor: i. Feierlich, misterioso (Solemn, mysterious) -- opening
Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Carlo Maria Giulini, cond. EMI, recorded Dec. 1-2, 1976
Vienna Philharmonic, Carlo Maria Giulini, cond. DG, recorded live, June 1988
by Ken
Yes, these are the "A" and "B" performances of the opening of the Bruckner Ninth Symphony we heard in last night's preview ("We said it wasn't over till we heard Bruckner 9"), which I described as "very different (but significantly related)." Longtime readers will probably have guessed, because I've used this trick before, that the significant relationship between the performances is that they're by the same conductor, as noted in the listings above.
I want to get to the reason why I excerpted this pair of performances, but first, let me throw out a question for your consideration as we listen through the three movements of the Ninth Symphony that Bruckner actually composed. (Eventually I suppose we'll have to talk about the movement he never did compose, a finale, but for now we will be considering these three movements the "complete" symphony -- and they form a quite satisfying whole to me.) The question is:
Sunday Classics: Wotan's bad behavior goes back even before the carving of the spear
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1st NORN: At the World-Ash-tree
once I wove,
when fair and green
there grew from its branches
verdant and shady leaves.
Those cooling shadows
sheltered a spring;
wisdom's voice I heard in its waves;
I sang my holy song.
A valiant god came to drink at the spring;
and the price he had to pay
was the loss of an eye.
From the World-Ash-tree
mighty Wotan broke a branch.
and his spear was shaped
from the branch he tore from the tree.
As year succeeded year,
the sound slowly weakened the tree;
dry, leafless, and barren --
death seized on the tree;
whisper waters then failed in the spring;
grief and sorrow stole through my song.
And so I weave at the World-Ash-tree no more;
today I use these branches to fasten the cord.
-- English singing translation by Andrew Porter, used in the Goodall-ENO recording
Lili Chookasian (c), First Norn; Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded Oct. and Dec. 1969, Jan. 1970
by Ken
We're not going to get as far as I was hoping in Friday's preview, when we reviewed the triumphant love scene of Siegmund and Sieglinde at the end of Act I of Wagner's Die Walküre. Eventually you'll hear why that was important, but for today we're going to jump to another image of Wotan, from the Prologue to the final Ring opera, Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods), as the three Norns spin their web of fate and occupy themselves by remembering and predicting.
Eventually I hope to have the complete Norn Scene here, but my server has been balky all afternoon. So for now we're just going to have to make do with the opening and the first contributions of the First and Second Norns, the two older of the trio.
Remember that in looking at Das Rheingold, we saw how Wotan abused his spear from the very moment of its making, inscribing on the symbol of his authority a totally bogus contract for the building of Walhalla, one he never had any intention of honoring. From the Norns we learn that the making of that spear was even more corrupt and corrupting. We hear Wagner the ecologist, with the First Norn painting an extraordinary picture of the rich life systems supported by the great World-Ash tree.
HERE'S THAT LARGER CHUNK OF THE NORN SCENE Read more »
Sunday Classics preview: The long-separated twin brother and sister Siegmund and Sieglinde recognize each other
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Plácido Domingo and Adrienne Pieczonka as Siegmund and Sieglinde at the Met, April 2009
by Ken
This week I want to finish up with my contention that that extraordinary depth of pain we hear coming out of Wotan, first in Act II of Die Walküre and then, of course, in the his final farewell to his cherished daughter Brünnhhilde at the end of the opera, is tempered by our knowledge that most of this pain is self-inflicted.
Last time we listened to the whole of Act I of the Walküre, the second opera (but properly speaking "First Day") of Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung tetralogy. In preparation for Sunday's installment, we're going to back to the end of Act I, and pick up after Sieglinde, having heard her mysterious guest's woeful life story, has drugged her husband Hunding and returned to share some of her background. Suddenly the door of Hunding's house blew open, and Sieglinde has asked who left.
This is of course one of the supreme scenes in the musical literature. We're going to start with the Melchior-Lehmann performance we already heard as part of the complete Act I recorded by EMI in Vienna in 1935 under the baton of Bruno Walter, but then we're going to hear an earlier Melchior recording -- unfortunately acoustical -- with the great Brünnhilde and Isolde Frida Leider as Sieglinde. Then we hear Jon Vickers, who I think it's safe to say has been the most successful of the post-Melchior Siegmunds, in the Karajan recording with the surprising choice of the lyric soprano Gundula Janowitz as Sieglinde (I happen to enjoy her performance a lot), and finally we have the sturdy Siegmund of Sieglinde coupled with the vocally strongest Sieglinde at least since Leonie Rysanek.
Vienna Philharmonic, Sir Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded Oct.-Nov. 1965
Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Daniel Barenboim, cond. Teldec, recorded live, June-July 1992
New Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Klemperer, cond. EMI, recorded 1969
"The score for Act I of The Valkyrie will soon be ready. It is extraordinarily beautiful; up to now I have done nothing even approaching it."
-- Richard Wagner, in a letter to Franz Liszt dated
February 16, 1855 (translated by M. M. Bozman)
by Ken
For the record, Wagner's guess about the score for Act I of Die Walküre being ready "soon" was wrong, just as he had been wrong in June 1852 when he was finishing the libretto and estimating to Liszt that he would "be able to polish off the music very quickly and easily, for it is only the carrying out of what is complete already." After all, as my friend Conrad Osborne suggested when I mentioned this to him once, Wagner could already hear it in his head.
It wasn't until October 3, 1855, that he was able to send Liszt not just Act I but Acts I and II. That said, the part about Act I being "extraordinarily beautiful" and the composers's "hav[ing] done nothing even approaching it" up to that point -- that part could hardly have been more true. Neither he nor anyone else had done anything like it.
In that spirit, perhaps, we've never done anything like what we're doing today either.
Then it occurred to me that we're at a perfect juncture to just listen to Act I of this First Day of the Ring cycle (Das Rheingold being formally a prologue). In Das Rheingold we left the gods making their grand entrance across the rainbow bridge into Valhalla, Wotan having finessed his original ethical and contractual breach by stealing the ring recently forged by the Nibelung Alberich after he stole the Rhinegold -- the titular Ring of the Nibelung.
Sunday Classics preview: Brünnhilde asks, "Who am I if I were not your will?" Question: Is it ever OK for a daughter to say such a thing to her father?
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Deborah Voigt as Brünnhilde and Bryn Terfel as Wotan in the new Met production of Die Walküre, 2011
BRÜNNHILDE [answers WOTAN softly]:
To Wotan's will you're speaking;
you can say what you will;
what am I,
if not your will alone?
-- English singing translation by Andrew Porter
[A]
[B]
[C]
[D]
Our four Brünnhildes could be drawn from this list (in alphabetical order): Kirsten Flagstad, Rita Hunter, Birgit Nilsson, and Astrid Varnay
by Ken
There are, of course, parents who truly don't want their children to be independent -- indeed, whole cultures that depend on squelching any such impulse. But through time there have also been lots of seemingly enlightened parents who wish this devoutly, as long as said independence leads the children to think and behave exactly as they would wish. It doesn't usually work out this way. It's a dilemma.
Now Wotan has particular reasons for needing independence in his children, which we won't go into now, except to wonder how feasible it is for his own flesh and blood to be truly independent of him. This week we're continuing to deal with his unbearable pain at being forced to part with his Valkyrie daughter Brünnhilde, as he does in the great Farewell at the end of Die Walküre, which we heard last week ("Can we fully feel Wotan's pain knowing that it's mostly self-inflicted?"). It's after he has been bitch-slapped by his wife, Fricka, over the whole mess he's gotten into, dating back to his flagrant breach of contract with the giants Fasolt and Fafner, violating a contract he never had any intention of honoring, that he finds himself in dialogue with Brünnhilde.
Brünnhilde has found her father in a state of despair unlike anything she has ever seen, and has implored him to open up to her. He responded with one of the musical literature's most extraordinary outbursts -- an expression of rage and self-pity (which we're going to hear in a moment). Getting a bit of control of himself, he asked whether unburdening himself might not cost him the grip of his will. She responds with the extraordinary passage we've just heard.
LET'S HEAR OUR BRÜNNHILDES AGAIN,
THIS TIME PROPERLY IDENTIFIED
Sunday Classics: Can we fully feel Wotan's pain knowing that it's mostly self-inflicted?
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UPDATE: I had the text for the complete Farewell all ready to paste in, and then -- already running late for an appointment -- I forgot to do it! It's done now.
Brünnhilde (Lisa Gasteen) and Wotan (James Morris) at the Met, 2008
BRÜNNHILDE, moved and exalted, sinks on WOTAN's breast: he holds her in a long embrace. She throws her head back again and, still embracing WOTAN, gazes with solemn rapture in his eyes.
WOTAN: These eyes so warm and bright,
which, smiling, often I kissed,
when courage
I acclaimed with kisses,
while childish prattle
in heroes' praise
was heard to pour from your lips:
yes, these gleaming, radiant eyes,
which shone so bright in the storm,
whn hopeless yearning
consumed my spirit,
and worldly pleasures
wee all I longed for,
when fear fastened upon me --
their glorious fire
gladdens me now,
as I take this loving,
last farewell!
On some happy mortal
one day they'll shine:
but I, hapless immortal,
I must lose them forever.
[He clasps her head in his hands.]
And sadly
the god must depart;
one kiss akes our godhead away!
[He presses a long kiss on her eyes. She sinks back with closed eyes, unconscious, in his arms. He gently supports her to a low mossy bank, which is overshadowed by a wide-branching fir tree, and lays her upon it. He looks upon her and closes her helmet; his eye then rests on the form of the sleeper, which he completely covrs with the great steel shield of the Valkyrie. He turns slowly away, then turns round again with a sorrowful look. Then he strides with solemn decision to the middle of the stage, and directs the point of his spear towards a massive rock.]
-- English singing translation by Andrew Porter,
used in the Goodall-English National Opera recording
[in English] Norman Bailey (b), Wotan; English National Opera Orchestra, Reginald Goodall, cond. EMI-Chandos, recorded live, Dec. 18, 20, and 23, 1975
Friedrich Schorr (b), Wotan; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Leo Blech, cond. EMI, recorded June 17, 1927
George London (b), Wotan; London Symphony Orchestra, Erich Leinsdorf, cond. RCA-Decca, recorded September 1961
Thomas Stewart (b), Wotan; Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded Aug., Sept., and Dec. 1966
John Tomlinson (bs), Wotan; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Daniel Barenboim, cond. Teldec, recorded live, June-July 1992
by Ken
As promised in Friday night's preview ("Wotan's Farewell -- feeling the pain"), today we're hearing the whole of Wotan's Farewell, the conclusion of Die Walküre, and we're going to listen to it in the context of the question: Can we feel Wotan's pain even knowing that it's largely self-inflicted?
Above we've heard the "missing" portion -- the central section that follows the opening, which we heard Friday night, and the concluding section that begins with Wotan's call to Loge, the god of fire, which we heard in last week's preview ("To prepare for some serious Bruckner business, we need to consult Wagner's fiery demigod Loge"). Actually, we originally heard the opening and closing orchestral sections attached to the respective opening and closing sections., but I thought it would be nice to hear this central section in full context.
AS TO MY ASSERTION THAT WOTAN'S PAIN IS LARGELY
SELF-INFLICTED, IN THE EVENT THAT IT ISN'T OBVIOUS . . .
Sunday Classics preview: Wotan's Farewell -- feeling the pain
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The final parting of Brünnhilde (Anne Evans) and Wotan (John Tomlinson) in Harry Kupfer's Bayreuth production of Die Walküre -- we hear a snatch below.
WOTAN, overcome and deeply moved, turns eagerly towards BRÜNNHILDE, raises her from her knees, and gazes with emotion into her eyes.
WOTAN: Farewell, my valiant,
glorious child!
You were the holiest pride of my heart!
Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!
[Very passionately] Though I must leave you,
and may no longer
embrace you in greeting;
though you may no more
ride beside me,
nor bear my mead in Walhall;
though I abandon you
whom I love so,
the laughing delight of my eye:
a bridal fire
shall blaze to protect you,
as never has burned for a bride.
Threatening flames
shall flare from the rock;
the craven will fear it,
cringe from its fury;
the weak will flee
from Brünnhilde's rock!
For one alone wins you as bride,
one freer than I the god.
[BRÜNNHILDE, moved and exalted, sings on WOTAN's breast: he holds her in a long embrace. She throws her head back again and, still embracing WOTAN, gazes with solemn rapture in his eyes.]
-- English singing translation by Andrew Porter,
used in the Goodall-ENO recording
[in English] Norman Bailey (b), Wotan; English National Opera Orchestra, Reginald Goodall, cond. EMI-Chandos, recorded live, Dec. 18, 20, and 23, 1975
Norman Bailey (b), Wotan; New Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Klemperer, cond. EMI, recorded 1970
by Ken
Change of plans. I know the purpose of our making the acquaintance of Loge, the god of fire (and of lies), last week was to set the stage for a final Sunday Classics Bruckner exploration, but in the process we inevitably stumbled into the ineffable final scene of Die Walküre, from the point at which Wotan summons Loge to resume his original form as fire to protect the now-sleeping Brünnhilde on her mountaintop from any but the hardiest suitor. And I don't see how we can come this close without pausing to take account of the whole of Wotan's Farewell.
We're hearing the start of the Farewell proper, after Wotan has informed his cherished daughter Brünnhilde that, because she disobeyed him, she is to be stripped of her Valkyrie-dom and abandoned on the mountaintop to be awakened by some passing hero, and she has suggested that he protect her with a ring of fire. And speaking of heroes, ours has to be Norman Bailey, who manages to sustain not only Reginald Goodall's but also Otto Klemperer's extremely gradual tempos -- with the reward that I really don't know of any other performance that communicates more intensely the pain Wotan is suffering.
We're going to round out this preview with pretty much the same group of Wotans we heard last week close out this great scene. And then on Sunday we can take a closer listen to Wotan's pain.
Friedrich Schorr (b), Wotan; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Leo Blech, cond. EMI, recorded June 17, 1927
George London (b), Wotan; London Symphony Orchestra, Erich Leinsdorf, cond. RCA-Decca, recorded September 1961
Thomas Stewart (b), Wotan; Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded Aug., Sept., and Dec. 1966
John Tomlinson (bs), Wotan; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Daniel Barenboim, cond. Teldec, recorded live, June-July 1992
Sunday Classics: "Ingratitude is always Loge's lot"
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English singing translation by Andrew Porter, used in the Goodall-ENO performance below:
LOGE: Never one word
of praise or thanks!
For your sake alone,
hoping to help
I restlessly roamed
to the ends of the earth
to find a ransom for Freia,
one that the giants would like more.
In vain sought I,
and now I can see
in this whole wide world,
nothing at all
is of greater
worth to a man
than woman's beauty and love!
I asked every one living,
in water, earth, and sky,
one question, sought for the answer
and all whom I met,
I asked them this question:
"What in the world
means more to you
than woman's beauty and love?"
But wherever life was stirring
they laughed at me
when they heard what I asked:
in water, earth, and sky, none
would forego the joys of love.
But one I found then
who scorned the delights of love,
who valued gold more dearly
than woman's grace.
The fair and shining Rhinemaidens
came to me with their tale:
The Nibelung dwarf Alberich
begged for their favors,
but he begged them in vain;
the Rhinegold he tore
in revenge from their rock
and now he holds it
dearer than love,
greater than woman's grace.
For their glittering toy
thus torn from the deep
the maidens are sadly mourning.
Return, Wotan,
in anguish, you, for
they ask that you will avenge them;
the gold they pray
that you will restore it,
to shine in the waters forever.
So I promised I'd tell you the story,
and that's what Loge has done.
[in English] Emile Belcourt (t), Loge; English National Opera Orchestra, Reginald Goodall, cond. EMI-Chandos, recorded live, March 1975
Gerhard Stolze (t), Loge; Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded December 1967
Ramón Vinay (t), Loge; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Fritz Stiedry, cond. Live performance, Jan. 26, 1957 by Ken
As I explained Friday night, we're headed toward some serious Bruckner, for which we need to make the acquaintance of music's superscout, the demigod Loge, god of fire and of lies. Friday night we encountered him transformed back into his original state, as fire -- specifically, the Magic Fire with which Wotan surrounds the cherished daughter he is abandoning, Brünnhilde.
We backtrack now to Das Rheingold, and in a moment we're going to meet Loge at his first appearance, fresh from a scouting mission for the head god, Wotan. Now it sounds as if Loge is merely performing an errand for Wotan, looking for a way out of his bind -- having promised his wife's sister, Freia, as payment to the giants Fasolt and Fafner for their heroic efforts in building Wotan's great castle, Valhalla. But Loge is no errand demigod. As he has already pointed out to Wotan (as we're going to hear in a moment, sticking to Andrew Porter's singing translation:
I roam through the whole
wide world as I please!
I'm not held
by house or home.
And for me there's an unmistakable "travelogue" quality to Loge's great narrative, which we've just heard in character-tenorish performances by Peter Schreier and Emile Belcourt, a rather more dramatic one by Gerhard Stolze, and a full-fledged Heldentenor's richly sung rendering (admittedly a distinctly baritonish-sounding) from Ramón Vinay.
Sunday Classics preview: To prepare for some serious Bruckner business, we need to consult Wagner's fiery demigod Loge
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Donald McIntyre as Wotan summons Loge at the end of Die Walküre, with Pierre Boulez conducting, in this installment of Patrice Chéreau's (in)famous Bayreuth Ring production, designed by Richard Peduzzi, video-recorded in 1980.
WOTAN has set the now-sleeping BRÜNNHILDE down on the mountaintop. He turns slowly away, then turns round again with a sorrowful look. Then he strides with solemn decision to the middle of the stage, and directs the point of his spear toward a massive rock.
WOTAN: Loge, hear!
Come at my call!
As when first you were found,
a fiery glow,
asa when you escaped me,
a wandering flicker;
once you were bound:
be so again!
Arise! Come, wavering Loge;
surround the rock, ring it with flame!
[During the following, he strikes the rock three times with his spear.]
Loge! Loge! Appear!
[A flash of flame leaps from the rock, and gradually increases to an ever-brightening fiery glow. Flickering flames break out. Bright, shooting flames surround WOTAN. With his spear, he directs the sea of fire to encircle the rocks; it presently spreads toward the background, where it enloses the mountain in flames.]
Only the man
who braves my spear point
can pass through this sea of flame!
[He stretches out the spear as if casting a spell. Then he gazes sorrowfully back at BRÜNNHILDE, turns slowly to depart, and looks back once more before he disappears through the fire. The curtain falls.]
-- English singing translation by Andrew Porter,
used in the Goodall-English National Opera recording
[in English] Norman Bailey (b), Wotan; English National Opera Orchestra, Reginald Goodall, cond. EMI-Chandos, recorded live, Dec. 18, 20, and 23, 1975
by Ken
I know we haven't finished with Pagliacci yet, but I wasn't happy with the dubs I made of my LP of the 1970 Decca recording, and wound up ordering a CD edition that's coming from England. Meanwhile there's a project I wanted to get to while there's still time: another Bruckner symphony. But to do that properly, we first have to make the acquaintance of Wagner's demigod Loge. And I thought the best way to start would be to meet him in his final incarnation, as the Magic Fire with which the god Wotan, at the end of Die Walküre, surrounds the cherished daughter, Brünnhilde, whom he is abandoning to her fate. This is the final section of Wotan's Farewell, one of the most overwhelming expanses of music Wagner created -- I'm sorry we never got to the whole thing.
WAGNER: Die Walküre: Act III conclusion,
from Wotan, "Loge, hör! Lausche hieher!"
George London (b), Wotan; London Symphony Orchestra, Erich Leinsdorf, cond. RCA-Decca, recorded September 1961
Thomas Stewart (b), Wotan; Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded Aug., Sept., and Dec. 1966
Albert Dohmen (b), Wotan; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Christian Thielemann, cond. Opus Arte, recorded live, July-Aug. 2008
Friedrich Schorr (b), Wotan; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Leo Blech, cond. EMI, recorded June 17, 1927
Sunday Classics: Karl Ridderbusch as the King in "Lohengrin" -- this is what's called "shouting"???
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ELSA has appeared in a very simple white garment and overwhelmed the assembled nobles with the purity and innocence of her bearing. Now KING HEINRICH tries to get, well, anything at all out of her regarding the disappearance of her little brother Gottfired, which she is accused of being responsible for.
KING HEINRICH: Are you she, Elsa of Brabant?
[ELSA nods her head affirmatively.]
Do you recognize me as your judge?
[ELSA turns her head toward the KING, looks him in the eye, and then affirms with a trust-filled gesture.]
Then I ask you further:
Is the charge known to you,
which has been brought so weightily against you?
[ELSA glances at TELRAMUND and ORTRUD, shudders, bows her head sadly, and affirms.]
What do you have to say against the charge?
[ELSA through a gesture: "Nothing!"]
So you acknowledge your guilt? ELSA [staring sadly for a long time around her]: My poor brother! ALL THE MEN: How wondrous! What strange behavior! KING HEINRICH: Speak, Elsa, what do you have to confide to me?
by Ken
Can't somebody get that damned Ridderbusch fellow to stop ferchrissakes shouting? (This is a very tiny joke, which I'll explain in a moment.)
This two-minute-plus extract comes from what is still my favorite Lohengrin recording, the 1971 DG studio version conducted by Sunday Classics stalwart Rafael Kubelik. In it we hear Karl Ridderbusch in his matchless prime as King Heinrich and Gundula Janowitz singing Elsa's single line, one of the most haunting lines in opera, "Mein armer Bruder. (I had thought of doing a collage of maybe ten singers singing it, but do you have any idea how much time editing such a thing would have taken?) If there are two more beautiful, riveting minutes of music anywhere in the recorded annals, I don't know what they are.
Since we last dipped into Lohengrin, this past February in the "Remembering Eugen Jochum" posts that included excerpts from his 1954 Bayreuth performance, I've gotten hold of a CD edition of the Kubelik-DG recording, which I had only on LP and open-reel tape, and my admiration is if anything greater than ever. I think the Act I Prelude is an excellent example.
WAGNER: Lohengrin: Prelude to Act I
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Rafael Kubelik, cond. DG, recorded April 1971
We've heard some beautiful performances of the Lohengrin Prelude. In that February post, for example, we heard one by Sir Adrian Boult. But I'm not sure I've ever heard a fuller, more pulsing-with-life one than Kubelik's. And this is true of the Lohengrin performance as a whole. I'm not sure people generally appreciate just how difficult an opera this is to make musical and dramatic sense of, and Kubelik's performance has a riveting continuity I've never heard matched in a lifetime that has included a lot of Lohengrin performances. (Curiously, Kubelik's 1967 Bavarian Radio broadcast Meistersinger, which acquired a legend before anyone without archival access was able to hear it, and which to my ears turns out to be crashingly ordinary, is praised to the skies by the online cognoscenti.)
IT WAS, IN FACT, A BIZARRE ONLINE REVIEW OF THIS
RECORDING THAT TRIGGERED THIS SERIES OF POSTS
Sunday Classics preview: What a difference a top-quality bass makes as King Heinrich in "Lohengrin"
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WAGNER: Lohengrin: Act I: Royal Herald, "Gott richtet euch nach Recht und Fug" ("God will pass rightful judgment on you") . . . King Heinrich, "Mein Herr und Gott" ("My Lord and God")
ROYAL HERALD [to LOHENGRIN and TELRAMUND]:
God will pass rightful judgment,
so trust in Him, not in your own strength! LOHENGRIN and TELRAMUND [standing opposite each other, outside the circle]:
God will pass rightful judgment on me,
so I shall trust in Him, not in my own strength! KING HEINRICH [proceeding to the middle with great ceremony]: My Lord and God, I call upon you
[Everyone bares their head in deepest reverence]
to be present at this fight!
Proclaim through the sword's victory a verdict
that clearly shows what is deceit and what is truth!
May he who is innocent fight with the arm of a hero,
and may he who is false be sapped of strength!
So help us God in this hour,
for our wisdom is but folly!
PERFORMANCE A
PERFORMANCE B
PERFORMANCE C
by Ken
What we have here are three performances of the King's great prayer near the end of Act I of Lohengrin -- performances widely spaced in time, by basses who were all highly regarded in their times, and also widely spaced in quality, ranging from the near-sublime to the near-ridiculous. We'll hear them again in a moment, with proper identifications.
This week I want to proceed to Ridderbusch's King Heinrich der Vogler, and we'll get there Sunday, but first I wanted to hit the King's two vocal high points.. We started with the King's stupendous invocation near the end of Act I, initiating the trial by combat between the unknown knight who has fallen from the heavens to defend Elsa of Brabant, accused of causing the disappearance of her little brother, Gottfried, and her accuser, her and Gottfried's guardian, the Brabantine noble Friedrich of Telramund.
NOW LET'S HEAR AND IDENTIFY OUR THREE PERFORMANCES
Sunday Classics: In "The Flying Dutchman" Wagner shows there's more than one way to get from Act I to Act II and from Act II to Act III
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by Ken
In our earlier post about Wagner's Flying Dutchman we heard the Norwegian sea captain Daland return home from a perilous voyage bringing a guest, none other than the Flying Dutchman to meet (and hopefully entrance) his daughter, Senta. Then we left the two potential lovers alone for their long scene, and I would have liked to return for the end of Act II, as Daland returns. Here is that little fragment.
DALAND: Forgive me! My people will stay outside no longer;
each time we return home you know there is a feast.
I would enhance it. Therefore I come to ask
if it can be combined with a betrothal.
[To the DUTCHMAN]: I think you've wooed her to your heart's content!
[to SENTA]: Senta, my child, do you too consent? SENTA [with solemn resolution]:
Here is my hand! And without regret
I plight my troth till death! DUTCHMAN: She gives her hand! Powers of hell,
through her troth I defy you! DALAND: You shall not regret this union!
To the feast! Today let all rejoice!
Karl Ridderbusch (bs), Daland; Gwyneth Jones (s), Senta; Thomas Stewart (b), Dutchman; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Karl Böhm, cond. DG, recorded live, 1971
Kurt Moll (bs), Daland; Dunja Vejzovic (s), Senta; José van Dam (bs-b), Dutchman; Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. EMI, recorded 1981-83
TRANSFORMATIONS
In Friday's preview we heard the Sailors' Chorus that opens Act III. Now we're going to hear two ways that Wagner put Acts II and III together. Originally he imagined the opera's three acts running together; later he separated them by repeating orchestral material at the ends and beginnings of the interior acts.
Sunday Classics preview: A little more of "The Flying Dutchman" -- we hear from the sailors
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WAGNER: The Flying Dutchman: End of Act I, Daland, "Hei! Wie die Segel schon sich blähn" ("Hey, how the sails are already filling!") . . . Sailors, "Mit Gewitter und Sturm" ("Through thunder and storm")
DALAND [going aboard his ship]:
Hey, how the sails are already filling!
Hallo! Hallo!
[He gives a signal on his whistle.]
Quick, lads, cast off! SAILORS [as they sail off]:
Through thunder and storm, through distant seas
I draw near, my lass! Hurrah!
Through towering waves, from the south
I am here, my lass! Hurrah!
My girl, were there no south wind,
I could never come to you:
Oh, dear south wind, blow once more!
My lass longs for me!
Ho! Ho! Ho, yo-lo-ho!
Ho ho ho ho ho!
Ho! Ho! Ho, yo-lo-ho! Ho ho ho ho ho ho!
Hans Sotin (bs), Daland; Vienna State Opera Concert Chorus, Vienna Philharmonic, Christoph von Dohnányi, cond. Decca, recorded March-Nov. 1991
by Ken
Two weeks ago, in our Father's Day special, we made the acquaintance of the Norwegian sea captain Daland in Wagner's Flying Dutchman -- first (barely) surviving a sudden, violent storm just as his ship is nearing home port, in sight of his own house; then introducing his cherished daughter, Senta, to an eminently marriageable fellow sea captain he has met by the most remarkable chance.
The gentleman caller is in fact none other than the legendary Flying Dutchman, doomed to sail the seas until he finds redemption through love. Only the Dutchman turns out to be not a legend but a flesh-and-blood man, and one who could provide for Senta better than Daland could have dared hope. In our excerpt above, after Daland and the Dutchman have gotten to know each other under these bizarre circumstances and the Dutchman has agreed to call on Senta, the sailors have been roused by the sudden rising -- finally! -- of a south wind, the wind that will take them home. What we've heard is in fact the end of Act I.
IF THIS MUSIC SOUNDS FAMILIAR (BUT DIFFERENT) . . .
Sunday Classics: Father's Day special -- Wagner's Daland usually knows better than to trust in the wind
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DALAND: [coming down from the cliff]:
No doubt! Seven miles away
the storm has driven us from safe port.
So near our goal after a long voyage,
this trick was saved up for me! STEERSMAN [on board, shouting through cupped hands]:
Ho! Captain! DALAND: On board with you -- how goes it? STEERSMAN [as before]: Good, captain!
We have firm grounding. DALAND: It's Sandwike! I know the bay well. [0:53] Damn! I already saw my house on the shore.
Senta, my child, I imagined myself already embracing.
Then came this blast from the depths of hell.
Who trusts in wind trusts in Satan's mercy.
Who trusts in wind trusts in Satan's mercy,
trusts in Satan's mercy.
[He goes on board the ship.]
There's no help for it! Patience! The storm is abating;
so fierce a storm couldn't last long.
[On board] Hey, lads! Your watch was long --
to rest then! I'm not concerned anymore.
[The sailors go below deck on the ship.]
Now, steersman, will you take the watch for me?
There's no danger, but it's good if you keep watch. STEERSMAN: Be without worry! Sleep peacefully, captain!
[DALAND goes into his cabin. The STEERSMAN is alone on deck. The storm has abated somewhat and returns only at sporadic intervals. The waves are still rough on the open sea. The STEERSMAN makes his round once more, then sits down near the rudder. He yawns, then rouses himself as sleep comes over him.]
Karl Ridderbusch (bs), Daland; Harald Ek (t), Steersman; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Karl Böhm, cond. DG, recorded live, 1971
by Ken
In Friday night's preview we met the Norwegian sea captain Daland in happy homecoming mode, in Act II of The Flying Dutchman -- not just happy to be returning to his home and his beloved daugher Senta from an unusually perilous voyage with life and limbs intact, but returning in the company of a stranger, met under extraordinary circumstances, who is the best son-in-law material fate could have sent his way.
Now we're returning, not quite to Act I curtain rise (we'll get there in a moment), but to the brush with death, for him and his crew, that Daland has just survived thanks to a combination of luck and his own nautical skill. With his ship becalmed but safe just off the coast, not far from home, he berates himself for having, incredibly foolishly, let slip his guard against the vagaries of fate. The section we're especially concerned with here is the highlighted one, where for the first time he indulges in sustained singing, when he recalls that literally within sight of home, already imagining himself there, with Senta in his arms, he was beset by a violent storm outburst that caught him almost tragically unprepared.
This extraordinary little set piece he sings is at once one of the most vivid examples I know of the way music, and in particular vocal music, can be used to create character and dramatic urgency and one of the most challenging but potentially rewarding pieces of vocal writing I know. And I've never heard anyone do it fuller justice than Karl Ridderbusch in this live performance from the 1971 Bayreuth Festival.
He sings high, he sings low; he sings with unmatched power and unrivaled delicacy; he attacks every pitch dead-on while binding phrases with ravishing tone and dramatic sweep. Above all he really does sing every note, filling out each syllable with the ravishing sound of a great bass voice under complete, sculpting phrases with seemingly effortless control.
To be perhaps a little clearer, I though we'd listen to this amazing scene chunk again, in an assortment of performances that I consider admirable in many respects (much better than the average one encounters; it would be too easy to make the case with that sort of performance), and then listen to Ridderbusch's again.
WAGNER: The Flying Dutchman: Act I, Daland, "Kein Zweifel! Sieben Meilen fort" ("No doubt! Seven miles away")
Sunday Classics preview: Father's Day special -- meet the sea captain Daland (with UPDATE: Overture!)
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In Act II of Wagner's Flying Dutchman, the sea captain Daland has just walked into his home on the rugged Norwegian coast following a harrowing voyage with a near-fatal landing, as we witnessed in Act I. Here bass Karl Ridderbusch as Daland exhorts his daughter, Senta, to welcome the guest he's brought home with him (from a Rome Radio broadcast performance conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch, February 15, 1969).
DALAND: Would you, my child, bid this stranger welcome?
A sailor is he, like me; he asks our hospitality.
Long without homeland, always on far, long journeys,
in foreign lands he has gained great wealth.
Banished from his fatherland,
for a home he will pay richly.
Say, Senta, would it displease you
if this stranger stays with us?
[SENTA nods her approval. DALAND turns to the DUTCHMAN.]
Say, did I praise her too much?
You see her yourself -- does she please you?
Should I let my praises yet overflow?
Admit, she is an ornament to her sex.
[The DUTCHMAN makes a gesture of approval.]
Would you, my child, show yourself well-disposed to this man?
He also asks for the beautiful gift of your heart.
If you give him your hand, you are to call him bridegroom.
If you heed your father, tomorrow he'll be your husband.
[SENTA makes a convulsive, painful movement. DALAND produces some jewelry and shows it to his daughter.]
See this ring, see these bracelets!
What he owns makes this meager.
Mustn't you, dear child, long for it?
It's yours if you exchange rings.
[SENTA, without paying any attention to him, doesn't take her eyes off the DUTCHMAN, who likewise, without listening to DALAND, is absorbed in contemplating her. DALAND becomes aware of this; he looks at them both.]
But neither speaks . . . Am I not wanted here?
So it is! I'd best leave them alone.
[To SENTA] May you win this noble man!
Believe me, such look won't happen again.
[To the DUTCHMAN] Stay here alone! I'll go away.
Believe me, however beautiful, she is that faithful.
[He goes out slowly, watching them both with pleased surprise. SENTA and the DUTCHMAN are alone. Long pause.]
by Ken
This week's post has come about in an even more than usually roundabout way, triggered by a comment I was startled to encounter online about a performance by the bass we just heard, Karl Ridderbusch -- a comment so bizarrely off the mark that it made me wonder whether it tells us something about the way at least some latter-day listeners hear singing.
The comment pertained to Ridderbusch's first commercial recording of King Heinrich in Wagner's Lohengrin, but it soon occurred to me that the discussion should be expanded to include his Daland in The Flying Dutchman as well. Then it occurred to me that the discussion might more sensibly begin with The Flying Dutchman, and finally it occurred to me that we could hardly have a more appropriate subject for the Father's Day weekend.
THIS IS ONE OF THOSE PIECES I'VE BEEN KNOWN
TO LISTEN TO OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN
Sunday Classics chronicles: Remembering Eugen Jochum (4) -- Overtures Plus, part 2 (Wagner's "Lohengin" and "Parsifal"
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Is there anyone who doesn't know this music?
As you probably know, the world's best-known wedding march isn't a wedding march at all. Elsa and her unknown knight were married at the end of Act II of Lohengrin. Here, at the start of Act III, they're being escorted to their bridal chamber. The 1954 Bayreuth Festival Chorus and Orchestra are conducted by our man of the hour, Eugen Jochum.
by Ken
We're forging ahead with our remembrance of that wonderful conductor Eugen Jochum (1902-1987) -- wearing his concert hat in Part 1 and Part 2 (devoted to his Haydn and Bruckner) and now his opera conductor's chapeau in Part 3 (snatches of Weber's Der Freiscütz and Beethoven's Fidelio) and today's installment -- and we still haven't gotten to his Mozart, which is where I was trying to get us. I thought maybe we'd throw in a little Boris Godunov too. But not today; we have too much to do. (And as usual it will look like we're doing more than we actually are, because the texts consume so much space relative to the amount of music they cover.)
One of the recordings I acquired recently -- one of the sources of the "archival" recordings we're featuring in these "chronicles" posts -- wasn't actually new to me. I just didn't have it on CD. It's Jochum's 1954 Bayreuth Lohengrin. (He actually made a studio recording of the opera around the same time, but it's not one of his happiest achievements. Perhaps even he, who often coaxed surprisingly successful results from dubious-looking casts, could do much with that one.)
In a late decision, we're not even going to get to our other Wagnerian destination: Jochum's extraordinarily beautiful 1971 Bayreuth Parsifal, which we sampled in the March 2010 post "Good Wagner conductors find what inside the music makes it move." I'd rather do that another time.
I'm calling these posts "Overtures Plus" because we're hearing a number of overtures and preludes that -- like the two we heard Friday night -- are also familiar as concert pieces. And I thought we'd start by hearing the Lohengrin Act I and Act III Preludes performed as concert pieces. While I actually do have Jochum studio versions, they're mono, so I thought we'd bring in some ringers.
We already heard this performance of the exhilarating Act III Prelude -- in the "Good Wagner conductors post.
WAGNER: Lohengrin:
Prelude to Act III
Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Klemperer, cond. EMI, recorded February-March 1960
That's quite a "wow" piece, but if we go back to the start of the opera, to "the Prelude to Lohengrin, we encounter something even more astonishing, not least for those ethereally shimmering strings. (This is a performance we haven't heard before, from the remarkably beautiful series of Wagner orchestral LPs Sir Adrian Boult recorded in the early '70s. We already heard the Siegfried Idyll from this series in a March 2011 post on the piece.)
Sunday Classics: Finally we reach Act III of "Tannhäuser"
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Daniel Barenboim conducts the Staatskapelle Berlin in the Prelude to Act III of Tannhäuser (from their June 2001 Teldec recording of the complete opera, from which we've heard a number of excerpts earlier in this series). Don't we always try to listen to the way our "target" material starts? Tip: The portion of this prelude that particularly concerns us begins about 5:37. [audio link]
"The heart wants what it wants."-- Woody Allen
by Ken
After our dalliance in the Song Contest of Act II of Tannhäuser and our circle-back to the second scene of Act I, you were probably thinking -- or maybe just hoping -- we would never make it to Act III. Nevertheless, here we are. In fact, in Friday night's preview we not only made it to Wolfram von Eschenbach's Evening Star song but heard the whole of our work unit today: from the Act III Prelude up to the unexpected return of Tannhäuser from his pilgrimage to Rome seeking absolution from the Pope for his naughty behavior.
When the Act III curtain rises, we're back in the setting we first saw when Tannhäuser chose to bail out of the Venusberg in Act I: the mountain-and-valley landscape in Thuringia where the Shepherd waved the pilgrims off in the springtime on their long trans-Alpine trek to Rome to seek absolution from the Pope. Subsequently we heard Tannhäuser being reunited with his friend Wolfram von Eschenbach and the rest of his fellow Minnesingers. It's fall now, and Wolfram is watching over Elisabeth, who is maintaining a vigil for the pilgrims' return, hoping that Tannhäuser will be among them.
As I mentioned in Friday's preview, when he was one of the baritones we heard singing the Evening Star romance, among our Wolframs today we have a "new" one, the lovely lyric baritone Gerhard Hüsch, and we're putting him to work right away. In this very gradual performance, it's especially easy to spotlight two phrases: "Dies ist ihr Frage" (around 2:32) and "Ihr Heil'gen, lasst erfüllt es sehen" (2:47).
WAGNER: Tannhäuser and the Song Contest at the Wartburg: Act III, Wolfram, "Wohl wusst' ich hier sie im Gebet zu finden"
I knew well I would find her here in prayer, as I so often find her when, down from the wooded heights, I stray in the valley alone. The death he dealt her buried deep in her heart in searing smart, she prays for his salvation day and night -- oh, eternal might of holy love! She awaits the return of the pilgrims from Rome. The leaves are falling already; their return is imminent. Will he come back with the pardoned? [2:32] This is her question, this is her prayer. [2:47] You saints in heaven, may she see it consummated! Though the wound remain unhealed, oh, that relief, at least, might be granted her!
Gerhard Hüsch (b), Wolfram von Eschenbach; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Hans Udo Müller, cond. EMI, recorded August 1936 [audio link]
Part 1: What if Wagner had called it Wolfram von Eschenbach and the Song Contest at the Wartburg? Act II and the Song Contest "Sneak" preview and main post
Part 2: Continuing our look at Tannhäuser from the vantage point of Wolfram von Eschenbach -- Circling back to Act I Preview and main post
Part 3: Finally we reach Act III -- Wolfram's vigil over Elisabeth Preview and main post
Sunday Classics preview: Finally we're back where we started in Act III of "Tannhäuser"
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YouTube poster Pamilearner plays an abridged version of Charles de Janon's guitar transcription of "O du mein holder Abendstern." [UPDATE: Much as I love Bill Moyers, I don't know how he slipped in here. The clip was right originally, and here it is again.]
by Ken
We began the first preview of our Tannhäuser series by hearing where we were going to wind up in this week's concluding third part: at Wolfram von Eschenbach's grim death watch over his beloved Elisabeth and the beautiful romance in which he prays for the release of her tormented soul. Then in part 1 we focused on the Song Contest of Act II, before harking back to Act I in part 2.
So after the click-through we're going to start tonight's preview in the same place, then make a mighty leap -- well, back to the same place.
Part 1: What if Wagner had called it Wolfram von Eschenbach and the Song Contest at the Wartburg? Act II and the Song Contest "Sneak" preview and main post
Part 2: Continuing our look at Tannhäuser from the vantage point of Wolfram von Eschenbach -- Circling back to Act I Preview and main post
Part 3: Finally we reach Act III -- Wolfram's vigil over Elisabeth Preview and main post
Sunday Classics: Continuing our look at "Tannhäuser" from the vantage point of Wolfram von Eschenbach
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The real-life Wolfram von Eschenbach -- yes, there was a real-life Wolfram von Eschenbach, pictured here in the Codex Manesse -- would play an even larger role in Wagner's life, as author of an epic Parzival. Walther von Stolzing, the young hero of another of Wagner's later operas, Die Meistersinger, could tell us that there was also a real-life Walther von der Vogelweide, the young knight's professed musical teacher.
by Ken
In the first part of this series of (eventually) three devoted to the second of Wagner's ten mature operas, Tannhäuser, I set about looking at it from the vantage point of the hero's best friend, Wolfram von Eschenbach (the baritone). As I promised in Friday night's preview of this second part, we're moving backward from Act II to Act I.
I like to think that with the little bit of poking around we've already done so far, it's already been possible to get a feeling for the strength of the bond of friendship between the two leading Singers in Landgraf Hermann's Thuringian Minnesinger stable, Heinrich Tannhäuser and Wolfram von Eschenbach, despite the considerable differences in their personalities and outlooks.
WHILE WOLFRAM UPHOLDS CONVENTIONAL VALUES, TANNHÄUSER IS THE OUTSIDER, THE REBEL TRUTH-SEEKER
In the conventional formulation, Tannhäuser is the man who accepts no received wisdom, who rejects taboos and insists instead in experiencing the forbidden experiences for himself -- to the point of abandoning his community for the seductive lures of residence in the Venusberg with the goddess of love herself. And, again in the conventional formulation, Wolfram is the conventional-minded goody two-shoes, a man who deservedly stands in the shadow of his bolder, more creative, utterly uncompromising friend. Is it any wonder that the lovely young Elisabeth, the fairest maid in all Thuringia, unhesitatingly gives her heart to Tannhäuser rather than Wolfram?
I don't doubt that this is where Wagner's sympathies lay, that he created Tannhäuser as a repository for and expression of what he regarded as his own damn-the-consequences commitment to (his idea of) wisdom and truth. The only thing is, if you pay any attention to the opera, to the text and especially the music, that isn't the story it's telling, and I believe it's because of what is for me Wagner's most important quality as an artist after his musical genius and literary-dramatic talent: his largely uncompromising sense of artistic truth. In the Song Contest, Tannhäuser sneers at Wolfram's contest song, his explanation of the essence of love, which Tannhäuser considers hopelessly intellectual and theoretical. But what we see in the story is almost the opposite: Tannhäuser in thrall to theoretical ideas, while Wolfram is the one who deals with reality, who's always there for the people who matter to him, who's left to pick up the pieces whenever Tannhäuser betrays the woman they both love, and who in the end is always there for Tannhäuser himself.
Last week we heard the beginning of the Act II scene between Tannhäuser and Elisabeth following his return from the long absence that to all his friends remains unexplained, and heard that it's Wolfram who promotes the reunion between his friend and the woman they both love, even knowing that it spells an end to his romantic hopes. In Friday night's preview, backing up to Act I, we heard the music with which Tannhäuser is returned from the Venusberg to his old stomping ground in Thuringia and by chance immediately meets up with his erstwhile comrades. We got only as far as hearing that among those comrades the one who recognizes the initially unidentified stranger is Wolfram, and in this scene it's Wolfram who at every step pleads his friend's case, and finally overcomes his seemingly immovable resolve not to remain.
At the center is a "set piece" that like nearly all of Wolfram's music is of simply extraordinary beauty. As we'll hear in the click-through, Wolfram has to ask the Landgraf's permission to share this information with Tannhäuser. We're going to hear a bunch of Wolframs deliver it, in fuller versions of the scene, but this time I thought we'd jump to our champion Wolfram, the great Wagnerian "heroic baritone" Friedrich Schorr -- and also hear the 1936 companion recording to the 1935 "Blick' ich umher" we heard Friday night from the great baritone Heinrich Schlusnus.
WAGNER: Tannhäuser: Act I, Wolfram, "Als du in kühnem Sange"
WOLFRAM: When you strove with us in blithe song, sometimes victorious against our lays, anon defeated through our art, one prze there was that you alone succeeded in winning. Was it by magic or by pure might that you achieved the miracle or captivating the most virtuous of maids by your singing filled with joy and sorrow? For, when, in haughtiness, you left us, her heart closed to our song; we saw her cheeks grow pale, she ever shunned our circle. Oh, return, you valiant Singer, let not your song be far from ours. Let her no longer be absent from our festivals, let her star shine on us once more!
Friedrich Schorr (b), Wolfram von Eschenbach; orchestra. HMV, recorded in London, 1930 [audio link]
Heinrich Schlusnus (b), Wolfram von Eschenbach; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Clemens Krauss, cond. EMI, recorded 1936 [audio link]
Part 1: What if Wagner had called it Wolfram von Eschenbach and the Song Contest at the Wartburg? Act II and the Song Contest "Sneak" preview and main post
Part 2: Continuing our look at Tannhäuser from the vantage point of Wolfram von Eschenbach -- Circling back to Act I Preview and main post
Part 3: Finally we reach Act III -- Wolfram's vigil over Elisabeth Preview and main post
Sunday Classics preview: Wagner sends amazing sounds reverberating around that valley in Thuringia
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With the Wartburg, setting for the Song Contest of Act II of Wagner's Tannhäuser and the Song Contest at the Wartburg, seen on the mountaintop in the distance, this is something like the setting for Scene 2 of Act I -- but note Wagner's stage direction below. It's important for appreciating the intersection of the elements he brings together in this scene.
TRANSFORMATIONS NOS. 1 AND 2: From the Venusberg to the Thuringian valley, from the Shepherd's song to the Pilgrims' chorus
After an extended scene in which the goddess of love tries to persuade TANNHÄUSER to remain with her in the Venusberg, or Mount of Venus, and losing her grip finally tells him he can return to her for his salvation, he breaks free, declaring that his salvation lies elsewhere.
TANNHÄUSER: My salvation lies in Mary!
TANNHÄUSER, who has not left his position, suddenly finds himself transported to a beautiful valley. Blue sky, bright sunshine. To the right, in the background, the Wartburg. Through an opening in the valley on the left can be seen the Hörselberg. To the right, from halfway up the valley a mountain path leads from the direction of the Wartburg toward the foreground, where it then diverges to the side. In the same foreground is a shrine to the Virgin Mary, led up to by a slight rocky ledge. From the heights on the left is heard the sound of sheep bells. On a high rock sits a young shepherd with his pipe, looking toward the valley.
THE SHEPHERD: Dame Holda came forth from the mountain to roam through field and meadow; my ear caught a sound there so sweet, my eye longed to behold. [He plays.] There I dreamt many a sweet dream, and my eyes had scarcely opened when there the sun shone warm. May, May had come! Now I gaily play my pipe. May is here, the lovely May!
[From the direction of the Wartburg, a band of pilgrims approaches, singing. THE SHEPHERD plays his pipe.] OLDER PILGRIMS: To Thee do I journey, Lord Jesus Christ, for Thou art the pilgrims' hope! Praise be to thee, Virgin sweet and pure. Grant that our pilgrimage may prove propitious! [THE SHEPHERD, hearing the song, stops playing his pipe and listens thoughtfully.] Alas, the burden of my sins weighs me down. I can endure it no longer; I will know neither sleep nor rest therefore and gladly choose toil and vexation. At the sublime feast of clemency and grace I will atone for my sins in humility; blessed is he who truly belives: he shall be saved through penitence and repentance. THE SHEPHERD [as the pilgrims have reached the heights opposite him, calls out to them, waving his cap, loudly]: Good luck! Good luck for Rome! Pray for my poor soul!
Wolfgang Windgassen (t), Tannhäuser; Else-Margrete Gardelli (s), the Shepherd; Bayreuth Festival (1962) Chorus and Orchestra, Wolfgang Sawallisch, cond. Philips, recorded live, 1962 [audio link] Klaus König (t), Tannhäuser; Gabriele Sima (s), the Shepherd; Bavarian Radio Chorus, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Bernard Haitink, cond. EMI, recorded January 1985 [audio link]
by Ken
For once there may be some advantage in our only being able to hear, rather than see and hear, because somuch of this transformation, or rather series of transformations, between the scenes of Act I of Wagner's Tannhäuser and the Song Contest at the Wartburg is imagined in sound. Oh, Wagner cared a great deal about the stage transformations too, but the aural ones may be easier to get right.
To back up for a moment, two weeks ago we had the first part (preview here and main post here) of what I explained would be a three-part series in which we're taking a selective listen to the piece from the vantage point of Thuringia's No. 2 Minnesinger (i.e., singer of love), Wolfram von Eschenbach. In those posts we plunged right into Act II for the Song Contest itself, focusing on Wolfram's contest song. This week we back up to Act I and hear how the No. 1 Singer, Tannhäuser himself, made his dramatic return just in time for the contest. If works of art aren't meant to be taken personally, I can't imagine what the point of them might be. And for each of Wagner's ten mature operas I've spent my share of time reflecting Why I Especially Love This Piece.
At the moment we're preparing for the second of three installments devoted to listening to the third of those ten operas, Tannhäuser and the Song Contest at the Wartburg, from the somewhat unorthodox vantage point of the the second-most-esteemed of the Minnesänger (singers of love), Wolfram von Eschenbach. We plunged right into Act II and the Song Contest itself, focusing specifically on Wolfram's contest song. This week we back up to Act I and hear how the No. 1 Singer, Heinrich Tannhäuser came to be reunited with his fellow Singers after his long and mysterious absence from Thuringia.
And for once there is some real advantage to being forced to just listen, because in Act I of Tannhäuser Wagner performs a series of the most astonishing landscape paintings -- in fact, transformations -- ever done in music. And in the transformation from the Venusberg to the Thuringian valleyscape Wagner accomplished one of the supreme transformations in music, which he proceeded to refine with a series of further soundscapes he sent ricocheting around that valley.
Before we proceed, you might want to take another listen to the sequence above: the transformation from the Venusberg to the piping Shepherd's song, and then the introduction of the pilgrim's chorus advancing from the Wartburg at the rear of the stage to the mountaintop shrine to the Virgin in the foreground.
Part 1: What if Wagner had called it Wolfram von Eschenbach and the Song Contest at the Wartburg? Act II and the Song Contest "Sneak" preview and main post
Part 2: Continuing our look at Tannhäuser from the vantage point of Wolfram von Eschenbach -- Circling back to Act I Preview and main post
Part 3: Finally we reach Act III -- Wolfram's vigil over Elisabeth Preview and main post
