We embark here upon the third evening of Knappertsbusch’s 1956 Bayreuth Ring in Pristine’s splendid sonic refurbishment into Ambient Stereo – which is once again blighted by some fearsome coughing right from even before the brooding Prelude begins and continues throughout. The listener will also note how laboured is the conductor’s beat as Mime attempts fruitlessly to re-forge Nothung – but that is not necessarily a flaw if one considers that it reflects the inadequacy of the dwarf’s efforts; the coughing is less excusable. Nor is Windgassen’s entrance as Siegfried that impressive – his rhythmic slips constituted a weakness in Die Walküre – but let’s go easy on any tenor who can sing Siegmund then Siegried over four days without a break and he soon warms up – nor does he run ahead of Kna’s beat anywhere near as much here. Both he and Paul Kuen are excellent vocal actors and their exchanges make their mark, and even if Windgassen’s reedy tenor is never exactly that of the brawny, brainless hero, he is here in better voice than he was to be for Solti’s later studio recordings. Kuen is perfect as Mime, less mannered than Stolze and always distinguishable from Windgassen.

Hotter is immense as the Wanderer – the sheer amplitude of his entrance with “Heil dir, weiser Schmied!” really makes an impact, despite the slight rockiness of his vibrato and huskiness of tone; he really sounds as if he comes from another world. Some folk, I know, claim that there is too much talk and too many longueurs in Act I, but I really enjoy the riddling exchange between the Wanderer and Mime when it is done as well as it is here and Knappertsbusch gives the bass line real heft; meanwhile, the audience shows its appreciation via a salvo of tubercular coughing whenever a suitably hushed passage occurs – one cougher valiantly punctuates almost every bar with a loud bark. I long for the singers to do a Jon Vickers and shout, “Shut up with your damn coughing!”

The ”Fafner music” at the start of Scene 3, punctuated by Mime’s panicky interjections is wonderfully atmospheric and again, if Siegfried’s entrance isn’t as powerful as it should be, musically Kna is properly in charge and the pacing is perfect. The build-up to Siegfried’s forging song is riveting – such powerful orchestral playing – the introduction of the Magic Fire Music at 2:30 track 17 is magical, then Windgassen makes a good job of “Nothung! Nothung!”.

The Prelude to Act II is set in a chronic TB ward and the playing is almost as striking as the coughing. Neidlinger as Alberich is bitter malevolence incarnate; hard, black, biting and penetrative of tone. Van Mill sings through a megaphone to amplify his bass to dragon-sized proportions and it results in his sounding oddly like Boris Christoff. The coughing abates somewhat during the conjuring of Fafner and the battle comes over well, and Ilse Hollweg is a pretty, trilling Woodbird. Kuen is again a vivid, amusing Mime, enhancing the black humour of his attempted poisoning of Siegfried and Windgassen manages to sound really quite determinedly heroic as he sets off to find Brünnhilde following the Woodbird’s guidance, his progress encouraged by Kna’s swirling, energised conducting.

On to Act III. Wotan’s summoning of Erda is thrilling – just the kind of music Kna does best and Hotter and Jean Madeira are both magisterial; her plunges into her lower register are spine-chilling – what a voice – and what a wonderful, radiant passage of orchestral playing after Siegfried’s smashes Wotan’s spear, penetrates the ring of Magic Fire, reprising the music which concludes Die Walküre and reaches the broad, sunlit outcrop where Brünnhilde lies asleep. For some reason, the sound takes on a more resonant, boomy quality from then on, which is not unpleasant – but different in perspective. Windgassen’s cries of “Erwache!” are heart-rendingly powerful and Varnay’s rejoinder of “Heil dir, Sonne!” stunning. The final duet, including a laser-like top B, then two concluding top Cs from her – the last powerful, if a little sharp – puts the cap on a great night’s singing – and to his credit , Windgassen remains audible, whereas he is overpowered by Nilsson in the Solti studio recording.

Ralph Moore | APRIL 25, 2024

This third instalment of the 1956 Knappertsbusch Ring features Windgassen as Siegfried. He is very much a known quantity, having been Bayreuth’s regular Siegfried during the 1950s and also singing the role in Solti’s studio recording. There he was a last-minute substitute for Ernst Kozub, an impressive Siegmund who had, however, failed to learn the part of Siegfried adequately. Kozub arguably had more of a Heldentenor voice than Windgassen, but that is not much use if you don’t know the role, and that Wingassen certainly did. He also had the stamina to sing it and he does so heroically here, even managing to maintain his own with the Brūnnhilde of Astrid Varnay who arrives fresh in time for the final scene.

Mime is Paul Kuen, as it was in Rheingold. Solti kept Kuen in his studio Rheingold but dropped him for Gerhard Stolze in Siegfried (Stolze also recorded Mime in both Rheingold and Siegfried for Karajan.) Stolze had a remarkable voice and his interpretation of Mime verged on caricature, tending towards a kind of manic cackle. Kuen is an easier voice to listen to and he makes the most of the lyrical parts of his role, his wheedling and scheming.

With these two and Hotter in good voice as the Wanderer, the first act goes with a will. I always enjoy the riddle scene between Mime and the Wanderer, and the forging of the sword Nothung is particularly impressive; I believe Windgassen did his own (notated) hammering here – in the Solti recording they used a separate percussionist.

The second act begins with a highly evocative rendering of the dragon music from the orchestra. The scene between the Wanderer and Alberich, again the peerless Neidlinger, is powerful. The one between Siegfried and Mime which follows is at a lower level of tension and is followed by the Forest Murmurs passage in which Siegfried hears birdsong and tries to emulate it with a reed – actually a cor anglais in the orchestra. Sadly, I found this passage lacking in magic; it did not shimmer and sparkle as it should. After a splendid horn call from Siegfried, Fafner appears, here Arnold van Mill as it was in Rheingold, and using a megaphone as instructed by Wagner. His dying words are almost touching, as he seems to have no animosity for the hero who has killed him and even warns him against Mime. We then have the enchanting Woodbird of Ilse Hollweg advising Siegfried to take the tarnhelm and the ring from Fafner’s hoard. While he is doing so we have the comic scene between Alberich and Mime, quarrelling about the possession of the treasures which neither of them is going to get. Mime then wants to drug Siegfried, kill him and obtain the ring, but Siegfried understands his true intentions and kills him instead. The act ends with his being guided by the Woodbird to Brūnnhilde’s rock.

It was at this point that Wagner laid down his pen in 1857 and did not resume composition until 1869, with Tristan und Isolde and Meistersinger occupying much of his time in between. The opening of the third act, representing Wotan’s life as Wanderer, is one of the most powerful orchestral passages in the Ring and here sounds tremendous. Sadly, when he appears, Hotter sounds much more tired than in the two previous acts and his voice is unsteady, so the scene with Erda, the excellent Jean Madeira, is not as impressive as it should be. When the Wanderer confronts Siegfried, Siegfried gets the better of him, not only according to the story but also in this performance. The passage through the fire and Siegfried’s waking of Brūnnhilde go very well. I had not realized how much of this last scene is given over to the two principals wondering about themselves and each other and how little to the actual love duet at the very end. I enjoyed this scene more than I often do, and both Windgassen’s and Varnay’s intelligent understanding of their roles made all the difference.

With the possible exception of the Forest Murmurs passage in the second act, Knappertsbusch maintains a firm grip on the proceedings, always keeping the music moving; this is, after all, said to be the scherzo of the Ring. The orchestral balance is as in the third act of Die Walkūre, that is to say, better than in the earlier stretches. Solo woodwind lines can be heard, though sometimes faintly, and the brass do cut through when needed. Pristine Audio’s Ambient Stereo processing makes it all easy and pleasant to listen to. Those following this Ring will be happy to have this third instalment.

Stephen Barber | September 16, 2024