Die Walküre
Joseph Keilberth | ||||||
Orchester der Bayreuther Festspiele | ||||||
Date/Location
Recording Type
|
Siegmund | Ramón Vinay |
Hunding | Josef Greindl |
Wotan | Hans Hotter |
Sieglinde | Gré Brouwenstijn |
Brünnhilde | Astrid Varnay |
Fricka | Georgine von Milinkovic |
Helmwige | Hilde Scheppan |
Gerhilde | Herta Wilfert |
Ortlinde | Gerda Lammers |
Waltraute | Elisabeth Schärtel |
Siegrune | Jean Watson |
Grimgerde | Georgine von Milinkovic |
Schwertleite | Maria von Ilosvay |
Roßweiße | Maria Graf |
Nachdem das CD-Label Testament vor zwei Monaten damit begonnen hat, mit dem Siegfried den 1955 von der Decca in Bayreuth mitgeschnittenen und seitdem in den Archiven schlummernden Ring nach 50 Jahren zu veröffentlichen, folgt nun mit der Walküre der zweite Teil – Rheingold und Götterdämmerung sollen noch in diesem Jahr den Zyklus abschließen. Das Besondere an diesen Aufnahmen ist, dass sie noch vor Georg Soltis 1958-65 realisierter Studioproduktion die erste Stereo-Version der Tetralogie sind. Zu Grunde liegen hier keine Rundfunkbänder, sondern der Mitschnitt wurde damals mittels eigens von den Decca-Technikern aufgestellten Mikrofonen eingefangen. Es gelang ein Klangbild von enormer Direktheit und Präsenz, das vor allem den Sängerstimmen zugute kommt, die man auf keinem der frühen Bayreuth-Dokumente so authentisch und unverfälscht abgebildet findet.
Den künstlerischen Rang dieses Rings prägt vor allem Joseph Keilberths eindringliches, lebhaftes und ungemein modern wirkendes Dirigat. Keilberth wurde von Wieland Wagner – neben Clemens Krauss, Wolfgang Sawallisch, André Cluytens und Igor Markevich – als sogenannter „lateinischer“ Dirigententyp eingestuft, zu dessen musikalischen Charakteristika zügige, straffe Tempi zählten, dann schlanker Orchesterklang, instrumentale Transparenz, dramatisch-temperamentvoller Zugriff und enger Respons zwischen Orchester und Bühne. Als Gegentypen dazu galten Wieland Wagner in erster Linie Hans Knappertsbusch und auch Herbert von Karajan. Bezeichnend für die Zugehörigkeit zu diesen unterschiedlichen Dirigententypen ist, dass die Affinität zwischen Krauss und Keilberth so groß war, dass sie sogar zu gemeinsamen Proben imstande waren, als sie sich 1953 den Ring teilten. Knappertsbusch und Keilberth hingegen verkörperten solch diametrale künstlerische Gegenpole, dass die Übernahme von Vorstellungen, wie dies 1955 beim Fliegenden Holländer und 1956 beim Ring der Fall war, stets bedeutete, dass der Nachfolger gegen den Stil des Vorgängers anzukämpfen hatte.
Das hier versammelte Sängerteam hat auf Jahre hinaus das stimmlich-gesangliche Niveau der Bayreuther Aufführungen geprägt. Zumal Hans Hotter präsentiert sich als Wotan hier in der Rolle seines Lebens, mit „Wotan war sein Beruf“ hat die Presse die enge Affinität zwischen Rolle und Sänger kommentiert. In der Tat verkörpert Hotter einen Göttervater von wahrhaft imperialer stimmlicher Statur, was keineswegs bedeutet, dass sich hier ein ständig im Dauerforte brüllender Stimmprotz austobt, im Gegenteil: er besinnt sich in weiten Passagen, etwa der Wotan-Erzählung im 2. Akt „Als junger Liebe Lust mir verblich“, fast ausschließlich auf seine lyrischen Qualitäten als subtiler Liedersänger – der Hotter auch war! – und erzielt mit exemplarischer Mezzavoce- und piano-Kultur weit mehr Nuancen und Farben als andere Wotan-Interpreten. Neben Hotters stimmlicher und darstellerischer Überpräsenz hat Astrid Varnays Brünnhilde keinen leichten Stand, verfügte sie doch ohnehin nie über eine sehr phonogene Stimme, neigt zu scharfen und angestrengten Klängen bei hohen forte-Tönen. Ihr großes Plus ist jedoch ihre artikulatorische Präzision und intelligente Textauslegung, der Verzicht auf jegliches vordergründige Pathos. Ramón Vinay ist ein dunkel-baritonal getönter Siegmund von vulkanischem Temperament und wild lodernden Emotionen, der seine optische Bühnenpräsenz auch akustisch zu vermitteln versteht. Als fraulich-„gestandene“ Sieglinde ihm ebenbürtig Gré Brouwenstijn, der man ihr Aufbegehren gegen den ungeliebten Hunding tatsächlich abnimmt und die zusammen mit Vinay ein mitreißendes Finale des 1. Akts gestaltet. In der einseitig „schwarzen“ Figur des Hunding ist Josef Greindl ebenso rollendeckend besetzt wie Georgine von Milinkovic als aristokratisch beherrschte Fricka, die auf jedes Keifen und übertriebene Gestikulieren verzichtet.
Walter Fritz | 13.06.2006
If Wagnerites ever agree about anything, it is that the early 1950s marked a golden age for Wagner singing in general and for performances of the Ring in particular. The casts assembled over a number of years for Wieland Wagner’s production of the tetralogy at Bayreuth have never been equalled since, and official and unofficial recordings of the results have already been issued on CD. But this latest one, recorded at the 1955 festival and launched on disc with Siegfried and Walküre, with Rheingold and Götterdämmerung to follow later in the year, is special, for it was the first Ring to be recorded by Decca in stereo. The Bayreuth tapes were consigned to the archives, from where they have only now emerged.
Compared with the other Rings of that period now on CD, the sound of the transfers is wonderfully rich and immediate, while the quality of the performances is often breathtaking. In comparison with some of his contemporaries, Josef Keilberth may have been a less celebrated Wagner conductor, but both these performances show him to be a wonderfully responsive and dramatically alive interpreter. The second act of Walküre is arguably the hardest in the cycle to get right, but Keilberth sustains it wonderfully, establishing it as the dramatic pivot of the whole epic. He’s helped by the truly matchless Wotan of Hans Hotter, then at his peak, just as in Siegfried Wolfgang Windgassen’s hero has not been approached since for his tirelessly unforced tone, and wonderfully ample phrasing, while Astrid Varnay’s Brünnhilde is mesmerising in both music dramas. The only significant disappointment is Gré Brouwenstijn’s rather tremulous Sieglinde; in both works everything else is truly inspired, and most of it jaw-droppingly good in comparison with Wagner performances today.
Andrew Clements | 26 May 2006
This Walküre represents the second astonishing installment in Testament’s survey of Der Ring des Nibelungen as presented at Bayreuth – emphatically Wieland Wagner’s Bayreuth – during the pristine summer of 1955. As with Siegfried, reviewed in April, ensemble values soar and lofty traditions survive. Yes, one can isolate passing imperfections, but they hardly impair cumulative power and inherent excitement. Genuine stereophonic sound, moreover, conveys a more-than-reasonable facsimile of the unique Festspielhaus acoustic.
Although several bona fide heroes are at work here, Joseph Keilberth dominates the proceedings. Savoring the secrets, and advantages, of flexibility, this conductor enforces staggering momentum in passages of impetuosity, spacious grandeur in moments of repose. He knows precisely when to lead and when to follow. Oddly underrated in his time, he, like Siegmund, was one of the last of a vanishing breed.
Astrid Varnay’s Brünnhilde has been documented in numerous incarnations, all imposing, yet none more glorious than this. Her tone emerges limpid at all dynamic levels, her projection of the text vital, her sense of character poignant. This dramatic soprano – the real, virtually extinct thing – actually trills in the battle cry, capitalizes on the power of restraint in the confrontation with Wotan and ultimately defines a telling balance between warrior maiden and fragile woman. She finds an ideal counterforce in Hans Hotter, in all senses the most towering Wotan in memory. If he sounds a bit nasal here, a bit unsteady there, it doesn’t matter. This king of the gods conveys massive force without forcing, makes his rumination on “das Ende” shattering and projects his valedictory agonies with pathos all the more potent for its intimacy. Just listen to the way he invokes his daughter’s ultimate sleep with a whisper: “So küsst er die Gottheit von dir.”
Ramón Vinay’s exceptionally dark-toned Siegmund is overwhelming, even with the threat of vocal constriction. Gré Brouwenstijn, the affecting Sieglinde, battles fast-vibrato problems in Act I, then rises to rapturous climaxes later in the opera. Josef Greindl, a hulking Hunding in excelsis, musters primitive menace that compensates for any lack in steadiness. Georgine von Milinkovic, best known as an ardent Octavian in Clemens Krauss’s Rosenkavalier in Munich, turns out to be more authoritative than mellifluous as Fricka. She returns in Act III as one of the suavely aggressive Valkyries, in company with such stellar stalwarts as Hilde Scheppan, Jean Watson, Maria von Ilosvay and Gerda Lammers (a magnetic Elektra-to-be).
The wonders continue.
MARTIN BERNHEIMER | 26 May 2006
Testament began its live 1955 Bayreuth Ring cycle with Siegfried in February 2006 and this Walküre is the second instalment. Rheingold is the next projected release before they leap-frog forward to Götterdämmerung. Chronologically this is a mess. Keilberth’s Ring would be better released complete.
Already there are glowing reviews for this ‘new’ Walküre. However, Wagnerians know Ring recordings are made of so many component parts that it is unusual to get everything in place. And so it is here. I’m afraid I need to point out some misgivings about this otherwise magnificent set.
Sound issues include flattened dynamics and shifts in perspective. I also wonder about Brünnhilde’s last verses – Varnay sounds too far back. The microphones should have followed closer for these crucial lines. However, it is important to remember the historical context: these are fifty-plus year old recordings. Industry insiders at the time questioned the wisdom of Decca recording their studio Rheingold in stereo in 1957. Therefore for Kenneth Wilkinson and his team to tape these performances live two years earlier in hi-fi stereo was frankly courageous and far-sighted.
Otherwise the sound is theatrical and extraordinarily vivid. You will hear singers move about the stage, the bloom of the Festival House acoustic and deep richness in the engineering, preferable to the Wagner-lite Böhm Ring recorded in the same venue twelve years later. Witness the stirring basses and cellos in the opening storm, the clarity of woodwinds throughout and, most impressively, these recordings correct the over-emphasis on voices that undermines contemporaneous radio broadcast recordings from Bayreuth.
The glories of Wagner’s orchestration are also revealed through Keilberth’s sensitive ear. This conductor knows how to layer orchestral textures and reveal the narrative. For example, the pacing of Act I is well nigh perfect from the battering opening storm, the accumulating radiance of the ‘Spring song’ to passionate acceleration in the coda. The final scenes of Act II, my favourite in Walküre, benefit from a thrilling upward sweep in the Annunciation of Death and biting attack as Hunding is felled.
On to the singers. A swish from the wind machine and Ramón Vinay’s truly great Siegmund enters. His opening lines are poetry itself, telling of a proud and powerful character nevertheless in despair and weary. Vinay has a glorious tenor with a warm and generous metallic tone. And his large heldentenor is also surprisingly sensitive. Just listen to his powerful rings of “Walse” followed by the most gently moulded phrasing as Siegmund discovers Nothung. Here he is supported by special conducting from Keilberth. Listen as the shimmering violins give way to gently pulsing strings and flowing horns, then thrillingly deepening basses (track 8 03:30 onwards). The bar-lines simply melt away as lines liquefy and sing. It’s absolutely beautiful and I had to push rewind and listen to these minutes again!
But what should be one of the great Walküre Act Ones is undermined by Brouwenstijn’s quick vibrato. This Sieglinde is too fluttery and the result is an edge of the wrong kind. Her colouring and acting are excellent, it’s just that I needed to keep listening around her tremulousness. Walhall are about to release a complete broadcast of this production with the same cast except Martha Mödl as Sieglinde. I have not heard this yet but strongly suspect Mödl is preferable.
Astrid Varnay begins Act II with superlative battle cries. On paper she’d give way to Nilsson in Brünnhilde’s tomboyish opening but power, accuracy and quicksilver whoops are all in place. Later in the Annunciation of Death Varnay’s fruitiness is more apparent as she digs towards mezzo registers, reminding listeners that Varnay’s tone is an acquired taste. You will need to accept that Varnay swells into many notes.
There is no mistaking Brünnhilde’s father. Hans Hotter is an exemplary Wotan from cold command to the sorrow of a loving father. Hotter eats this formidable role. A tiny example: listen to the switch from shuddering inner resignation at the end of his exchange with Fricka to contrasting black-voiced command as Brünnhilde enters. The sheer depth to Hotter’s voice is like looking down into a deep well. The generosity of tone and absolute authority are unmatched from any Wotan I’ve heard.
A special mention for Georgine von Milinkovic’s Fricka. There is a lovely aerated quality that both softens and enriches her metallic tone and von Milinkovic’s diction is totally clear. Fricka’s opening lines are floated within long phrasing, gaining urgency as her confrontation with Wotan cumulates. You can hear why Wotan both loves and heeds this Fricka.
In an interesting exercise I compared Keilberth’s Walküre with two others recorded by Decca, focusing on the final scenes. Varnay and Hotter give a masterclass in vocal acting for Keilberth. They launch into their final confrontation with a drive and vivid desperation not matched by Nilsson and Hotter under Solti. The conundrum facing Wagner’s characters and the way they think and sing their way through it leaps from the speakers. Nilsson is warmer than I expected but I still find her tone too penetrating at forte. Some unsteadiness had crept into Hotter’s voice by 1965 and he was not as engaged in the studio as on the Bayreuth stage, yet his Wotan remained formidable.
Conducting is a decisive factor. I wearied of Solti’s constant upbeat attacks and loud orchestral accompaniment. The exaggerated slowing of pulse after Wotan sings “Und das ich ihm in Sruchen schlug!” and the near rasp of the triumphal brass after that verse are typical examples of undue expressive underlining.
Solti’s ascent to the orchestral crescendo as Wotan kisses away Brünnhilde’s godhead begins well enough but the overblown agogic rubato before the brass blare out a particularly strident chord at the peak is simply impossible. Surprisingly, Keilberth is disappointing here too. His phrasing is too short-winded to invoke the nobility of Wagner’s amazing sonic arch, especially in the over-quick descent. Although from there Keilberth returns to form, again showing a keen ear for floating phrases and layering textures.
At this point neither conductor is in Furtwängler’s league. With the 1954 Vienna Philharmonic Furtwängler invokes a deep Wagnerian swell, building a blazing line to a peak where brass, timps and strings sing out with overwhelming generosity. Notice how his descent holds the pulse, like a hang-glider who has run up a hill and then soared off the apex. Live in 1937 London Furtwängler is even more incredible, stretching the rubato almost to breaking point in a performance that is so powerful it should not be heard too often.
Decca’s 1990s Ring was sunk by poor reviews and abysmal sales before it reached the third instalment This is a pity as the Walküre boasts spectacular engineering and miraculous playing from the Cleveland Orchestra. Robert Hale is an expressive and intelligent Wotan, lacking Hotter’s authority. Gabrielle Schnaut made for controversial casting as Brünnhilde. Her tone is not always ingratiating but Schnaut’s singing is not as squally and unsteady as some reviews suggest. Schnaut certainly has the requisite heft and I believe in her youthful, petulant Walküre goddess, whilst not wanting to hear how she might later tackle the noble Götterdämmerung Immolation! And Dohnanyi is surprisingly fine although I am occasionally bothered by a sense that the score is more in his head than his heart. Dohnanyi’s opening Act 3 Ride begins swiftly, crackling with a Mendelssohn-like airiness, then deepening power as the Walküre sisters unite in their battle-cry over thundering timps. Dohnanyi’s brass outclass their Bayreuth counterparts in the Ride for precision and tonal lustre. Dohnanyi’s pacing and attention to detail is frankly more interesting than that of Keilberth, whose Ride seems less ‘alert’. In the final scenes Dohnanyi holds a clear, intelligent course with his transparent and beautifully integrated ‘Cleveland sound’, typified by integrated swelling brass and soaring corporate violins as Brünnhilde’s godhead is kissed away. Decca should re-release Dohnanyi’s underrated Walküre as a super-budget Trio. It would make a useful modern supplement to the more vivid Testament recording which for its principal singers and theatrical revelations now becomes my favourite stereo Walküre.
Testament are not the first record company to spread Die Walküre over four CDs when it could fit onto three. Aside from that, those who question the cost of Keilberth’s Ring should remember that, unlike cheap pirate issues of broadcast Rings from this era, Testament are paying royalties. The booklet contains a libretto in tiny typeface and reiterates the history of the 1955 Ring recording discussed in the earlier Siegfried set. There is some extra discussion principally centred on Hans Hotter’s contribution.
David Harbin | 6 August 2006
Testament | |
Testament |
This recording is part of a complete Ring cycle.