Walter’s Figaro
Posted by: Todd A on 29 June 2003
Last week I received a pleasant surprise: my order of cheap Andante boxes arrived in just over a week. (It usually takes 2-3 weeks for orders from Berkshire to arrive.) So I got to indulge in some extended historical recording listening sessions.
So I figured that Bruno Walter’s 1937 Salzburg Festival recording of Le Nozze di Figaro would make a nice Saturday afternoon diversion. In this instance I’ll start with the sound quality: it is remarkable for its age. That’s because this was not recorded on 78s but rather on a Selenophone, a precursor to tape and film recording. The process used film to record the music, much like those Mercury recordings from a couple decades later. Seth Winner and Ward Marston were tapped to do the transfer and the results are exceptional. There is still some spurious noise, with clicks, pops, scratches and pitch changes, but most are confined to the first act. The rest of the work is wonderful sounding for its age; it sounds more like an early 50s live recording than a 1937 recording. The instruments sound like they are supposed to – except for a poorly recorded harpsichord that sounds somewhat like a guitar – and the voices are all faithfully rendered. Sure, there are some balance problems, especially with some voice being drowned out or sounding recessed, but that’s due to this being an actual performance.
And it is quite a performance. I generally associate Walter’s name with slower tempi and an almost leisurely approach to the music, especially in classical period works. (That’s most definitely not a criticism; Walter is one of my favorite conductors.) Not here. This is a brisk reading, as the opening overture makes plain. Throughout, the Vienna Philharmonic play taut and fast. They’re just about ideal, really. Walter’s conducting makes this brisk, wonderful comedy come to life. If you think you know Walter’s Mozart, think again; I hope to acquire more pre-war recordings by him just to see if this recording is representative of his style at the time.
Of course, Figaro needs a good cast, and this one certainly has that. Every role is filled quite nicely. Sure, there are better singers for any individual role – the title role especially – but as a whole, they are impressive. Especially impressive is Aulikki Rautawaara as the Countess. Her aria is beautiful and perfectly presented, and her exchanges with Susanna and the Count are outstanding. Esther Rethy does a fine Susanna and Jarmila Novotna a fine Cherubino. They are all vocally captivating. The entire cast sing with a sense of purpose and occasion. It is just delightful to listen to. At several points during the work I put the libretto down and listened for the joy of listening. All in all, this is a winner, and if you love this greatest Mozart opera, I recommend you snap this up.
But that’s not all! The liner notes mention that a number of other complete performances at the 1937 festival were recorded using the same technology. They include Walter leading Don Giovanni and Toscanini leading Die Zauberflote, Falstaff, and – can it really be true? – Die Meistersinger. Let us hope that Andante or someone releases these performances.
So I figured that Bruno Walter’s 1937 Salzburg Festival recording of Le Nozze di Figaro would make a nice Saturday afternoon diversion. In this instance I’ll start with the sound quality: it is remarkable for its age. That’s because this was not recorded on 78s but rather on a Selenophone, a precursor to tape and film recording. The process used film to record the music, much like those Mercury recordings from a couple decades later. Seth Winner and Ward Marston were tapped to do the transfer and the results are exceptional. There is still some spurious noise, with clicks, pops, scratches and pitch changes, but most are confined to the first act. The rest of the work is wonderful sounding for its age; it sounds more like an early 50s live recording than a 1937 recording. The instruments sound like they are supposed to – except for a poorly recorded harpsichord that sounds somewhat like a guitar – and the voices are all faithfully rendered. Sure, there are some balance problems, especially with some voice being drowned out or sounding recessed, but that’s due to this being an actual performance.
And it is quite a performance. I generally associate Walter’s name with slower tempi and an almost leisurely approach to the music, especially in classical period works. (That’s most definitely not a criticism; Walter is one of my favorite conductors.) Not here. This is a brisk reading, as the opening overture makes plain. Throughout, the Vienna Philharmonic play taut and fast. They’re just about ideal, really. Walter’s conducting makes this brisk, wonderful comedy come to life. If you think you know Walter’s Mozart, think again; I hope to acquire more pre-war recordings by him just to see if this recording is representative of his style at the time.
Of course, Figaro needs a good cast, and this one certainly has that. Every role is filled quite nicely. Sure, there are better singers for any individual role – the title role especially – but as a whole, they are impressive. Especially impressive is Aulikki Rautawaara as the Countess. Her aria is beautiful and perfectly presented, and her exchanges with Susanna and the Count are outstanding. Esther Rethy does a fine Susanna and Jarmila Novotna a fine Cherubino. They are all vocally captivating. The entire cast sing with a sense of purpose and occasion. It is just delightful to listen to. At several points during the work I put the libretto down and listened for the joy of listening. All in all, this is a winner, and if you love this greatest Mozart opera, I recommend you snap this up.
But that’s not all! The liner notes mention that a number of other complete performances at the 1937 festival were recorded using the same technology. They include Walter leading Don Giovanni and Toscanini leading Die Zauberflote, Falstaff, and – can it really be true? – Die Meistersinger. Let us hope that Andante or someone releases these performances.