Rare & Unusual Operas, Take II
Posted by: Todd A on 21 March 2005
Since the original Rare & Unusual Operas thread has been archived, I thought I’d start a new one.
Der ferne Klang
Always on the lookout for something new or unusual in the operatic field, I found Franz Schreker’s opera Der ferne Klang at BRO for the unbearably high price of $4. Since he was active in Austria in that fruitful period from the turn of the century up to the rise of the Nazis, I figured it would be worth a shot. After all, my recent exploration of two Zemlinksy operas yielded two gems. I could find another gem.
Alas, it was not to be. And that’s odd. Many of the things I said about Zemlinksy’s operas hold true for this work – the plot is unusual if operatic; the music is sumptuous, voluptuous, decadent, and oh so alluring; there are no hummable tunes to savor, with one musical idea flowing into another – yet, Frank can’t match up to Al. There’s no one element that is bad, and indeed, this is a good opera, it’s just not a great one.
To be a bit more detailed, I’ll start with the plot. Fritz is a young artist in love who leaves home and his sweety, one Grete, to search for a far-off sound that he must find. (Hence, the title.) The second act takes place a decade later, and Fritz finds Grete and is saddened to learn she is now a prostitute, and so he dumps her again. The final act takes place another five years later, and Fritz, having blown it as a playwright, laments that he rejected love for art. Guess what: he finds Grete again! And he hears the music he was seeking! And he dies in her arms! Yep, it’s opera. So the plot is no more corny than, say, Tristan, and so it should make for a fine opera.
The music, too, is fine. Schreker was a talented composer, there’s no doubt, and as an orchestrator, he falls just shy of the very best. His orchestra is of positively Straussian dimensions. There’s the full orchestra with doubling and tripling of some instruments. There’s an off-stage orchestra, too. Despite the vast forces involved, one rarely hears a deafening, cacophonous racket. Schreker deploys his forces deftly, adding just a dash of color with some winds, or a bit of bite with some brass, or a swirling, dizzying, amorphously lovely haze with the violins, or a hint of hijinks with some percussion. Beautiful passages follow other beautiful passages, and the ear has much to savor. It’s all perhaps a bit more mainstream than what Zemlinsky conjures in his work, to say nothing of even more exotic composers like Szymanowski or Scriabin, but it has what it takes to make one want some more.
The singers – none of whom I recognize – and the orchestra and conductor (Michael Halasz and his Hagen Philharmonic) all perform extremely well. No one is miscast, no one misses, and the orchestra play splendidly. No, they are not the BPO, but they still do better than I had originally hoped for. Even the sound is good; in stark contrast to many early Naxos and Marco Polo recordings, this one is remarkably clear, with plenty of dynamic range and color. It matches much of what the majors did at the time. Yes, it can be just a tad glassy and hard at times, but these instances are rare. (I do have one complaint: though the detailed notes cover the plot track-by-track, the libretto is in German only. I could follow a little, but obviously I couldn’t follow it all.)
So what gives? All of the ingredients are there. Why isn’t it more successful? I just don’t know. It just seems to run out of gas. The first act really is solid, and the second, filled with dancing girls and parties, is quite fun, but the third act just drags. Even though this opera is just over two hours, it seemed longer. It’s not bad, it’s just not what I had hoped for. A mixed bag. But hey, at the price, it was worth the gamble.
Verlobung im Traum
Over the past couple years I’ve managed to procure a trio of operas released as part of the now dead Decca Entartete Musik series – Pavel Haas’ Sarlatan, Ernst Krenek’s Jonny Spielt Auf, and Erwin Schulhoff’s Flammen – and I’ve enjoyed all of them, the Schulhoff especially. No, none of them match up to the best operas of the inter-war years, and I can understand why there haven’t been a large number of productions since the “rediscovery” of the works, but they are enjoyable. So when BRO got in Hans Krasa’s Verlobung im Traum, I figured it was worth a shot.
I was right. I’ll state up front that this opera is pretty much like the others: while good, it’s hardly a masterpiece of the quality of, say, Wozzeck or any of Janacek’s late operas, and I won’t be surprised if new productions aren’t constantly mounted. But that doesn’t mean that there’s not a lot of good stuff to be heard.
The plot of the opera is loosely based on Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s story Uncle’s Dream. In it, the young heroine Zina is in love with a fiery revolutionary, but her scheming mother wants her to marry a wealthy Prince. The mother is wily and over dinner, during which the young Zina sings Casta Diva, convinces the Prince to marry the young gal. The old man proposes. But another young man – Paul – is in love with Zina and plots with another young woman to convince the Prince that his proposal was a dream (hence the title) so he can have Zina and the young woman can marry the Prince. Zina, for her part, decides that she can marry the Prince, and after he dies she can use her wealth to aid her lover, who, as ill fate would have it, is dying. Twists and turns ensue, as when Paul intercepts a letter from Zina’s lover explaining that he is at death’s door. Zina ends up being an honest person, and at the end tells the Prince of the marriage scheme and of her love for another man, and the Prince is surprisingly understanding and implores her to go to him. But her lover’s aide then appears wearing black. Zina is devastated.
So, the story is suitably operatic. How’s the music? Excellent. Of the four works, this is the most “modern” sounding of them all. The influences of the period are unavoidable – a bit of Mahler shows up in the strings from time to time, some hints of jazz show up (but they pale in comparison to Schulhoff’s use of jazz), and one can even hear the influence of Stravinsky – but the biggest influence comes from the Second Viennese School. While hardly as dense and complex as Wozzeck or Lulu or the various dodecaphonic masterworks of the three masters, Krasa unmistakably aligns himself musically with modernism. But being Czech and living in Prague, his work is more lyrical and falls easier on the ear. It’s not especially tune-filled, mind you, but rarely does it venture as far as Schoenberg’s or Webern’s works. Another noteworthy trait is the score’s lightness. While there are appropriately weighty tuttis, much of the work is done on a small scale, resembling a chamber opera rather than a grand opera. Krasa expertly crafts clear musical textures using small ensembles to support his singers. Sometimes only an instrument or two play to support and idea, though they are obviously used quite differently than a harpsichord or fortepiano in much earlier works. There is much to focus on throughout the work, and one never tires of the interesting and novel ideas Krasa presents. I can easily imagine this work offering something new upon each hearing. I’ll no doubt find out for sure.
As to the performers, well, all concerned do a fine job. I’m not familiar with any of the singers, and though I cannot imagine some of them in meatier roles, all fit their roles. Albert Dohmen’s portrayal of the Prince is probably my favorite vocal performance in the set. Lothar Zagrosek conducts the DSO Berlin superbly, and the band plays as well as one could hope for. Top-notch sound just adds to the appeal of the performance.
As an added bonus, Vladimir Ashkenazy conducts the same band in Krasa’s Symphonie. This short chamber symphony displays most of the traits of the opera, with an odd third movement that includes a soprano singing about the delousing of a child. It is quite interesting.
I rate the set a success if hardly a great find.
Der ferne Klang
Always on the lookout for something new or unusual in the operatic field, I found Franz Schreker’s opera Der ferne Klang at BRO for the unbearably high price of $4. Since he was active in Austria in that fruitful period from the turn of the century up to the rise of the Nazis, I figured it would be worth a shot. After all, my recent exploration of two Zemlinksy operas yielded two gems. I could find another gem.
Alas, it was not to be. And that’s odd. Many of the things I said about Zemlinksy’s operas hold true for this work – the plot is unusual if operatic; the music is sumptuous, voluptuous, decadent, and oh so alluring; there are no hummable tunes to savor, with one musical idea flowing into another – yet, Frank can’t match up to Al. There’s no one element that is bad, and indeed, this is a good opera, it’s just not a great one.
To be a bit more detailed, I’ll start with the plot. Fritz is a young artist in love who leaves home and his sweety, one Grete, to search for a far-off sound that he must find. (Hence, the title.) The second act takes place a decade later, and Fritz finds Grete and is saddened to learn she is now a prostitute, and so he dumps her again. The final act takes place another five years later, and Fritz, having blown it as a playwright, laments that he rejected love for art. Guess what: he finds Grete again! And he hears the music he was seeking! And he dies in her arms! Yep, it’s opera. So the plot is no more corny than, say, Tristan, and so it should make for a fine opera.
The music, too, is fine. Schreker was a talented composer, there’s no doubt, and as an orchestrator, he falls just shy of the very best. His orchestra is of positively Straussian dimensions. There’s the full orchestra with doubling and tripling of some instruments. There’s an off-stage orchestra, too. Despite the vast forces involved, one rarely hears a deafening, cacophonous racket. Schreker deploys his forces deftly, adding just a dash of color with some winds, or a bit of bite with some brass, or a swirling, dizzying, amorphously lovely haze with the violins, or a hint of hijinks with some percussion. Beautiful passages follow other beautiful passages, and the ear has much to savor. It’s all perhaps a bit more mainstream than what Zemlinsky conjures in his work, to say nothing of even more exotic composers like Szymanowski or Scriabin, but it has what it takes to make one want some more.
The singers – none of whom I recognize – and the orchestra and conductor (Michael Halasz and his Hagen Philharmonic) all perform extremely well. No one is miscast, no one misses, and the orchestra play splendidly. No, they are not the BPO, but they still do better than I had originally hoped for. Even the sound is good; in stark contrast to many early Naxos and Marco Polo recordings, this one is remarkably clear, with plenty of dynamic range and color. It matches much of what the majors did at the time. Yes, it can be just a tad glassy and hard at times, but these instances are rare. (I do have one complaint: though the detailed notes cover the plot track-by-track, the libretto is in German only. I could follow a little, but obviously I couldn’t follow it all.)
So what gives? All of the ingredients are there. Why isn’t it more successful? I just don’t know. It just seems to run out of gas. The first act really is solid, and the second, filled with dancing girls and parties, is quite fun, but the third act just drags. Even though this opera is just over two hours, it seemed longer. It’s not bad, it’s just not what I had hoped for. A mixed bag. But hey, at the price, it was worth the gamble.
Verlobung im Traum
Over the past couple years I’ve managed to procure a trio of operas released as part of the now dead Decca Entartete Musik series – Pavel Haas’ Sarlatan, Ernst Krenek’s Jonny Spielt Auf, and Erwin Schulhoff’s Flammen – and I’ve enjoyed all of them, the Schulhoff especially. No, none of them match up to the best operas of the inter-war years, and I can understand why there haven’t been a large number of productions since the “rediscovery” of the works, but they are enjoyable. So when BRO got in Hans Krasa’s Verlobung im Traum, I figured it was worth a shot.
I was right. I’ll state up front that this opera is pretty much like the others: while good, it’s hardly a masterpiece of the quality of, say, Wozzeck or any of Janacek’s late operas, and I won’t be surprised if new productions aren’t constantly mounted. But that doesn’t mean that there’s not a lot of good stuff to be heard.
The plot of the opera is loosely based on Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s story Uncle’s Dream. In it, the young heroine Zina is in love with a fiery revolutionary, but her scheming mother wants her to marry a wealthy Prince. The mother is wily and over dinner, during which the young Zina sings Casta Diva, convinces the Prince to marry the young gal. The old man proposes. But another young man – Paul – is in love with Zina and plots with another young woman to convince the Prince that his proposal was a dream (hence the title) so he can have Zina and the young woman can marry the Prince. Zina, for her part, decides that she can marry the Prince, and after he dies she can use her wealth to aid her lover, who, as ill fate would have it, is dying. Twists and turns ensue, as when Paul intercepts a letter from Zina’s lover explaining that he is at death’s door. Zina ends up being an honest person, and at the end tells the Prince of the marriage scheme and of her love for another man, and the Prince is surprisingly understanding and implores her to go to him. But her lover’s aide then appears wearing black. Zina is devastated.
So, the story is suitably operatic. How’s the music? Excellent. Of the four works, this is the most “modern” sounding of them all. The influences of the period are unavoidable – a bit of Mahler shows up in the strings from time to time, some hints of jazz show up (but they pale in comparison to Schulhoff’s use of jazz), and one can even hear the influence of Stravinsky – but the biggest influence comes from the Second Viennese School. While hardly as dense and complex as Wozzeck or Lulu or the various dodecaphonic masterworks of the three masters, Krasa unmistakably aligns himself musically with modernism. But being Czech and living in Prague, his work is more lyrical and falls easier on the ear. It’s not especially tune-filled, mind you, but rarely does it venture as far as Schoenberg’s or Webern’s works. Another noteworthy trait is the score’s lightness. While there are appropriately weighty tuttis, much of the work is done on a small scale, resembling a chamber opera rather than a grand opera. Krasa expertly crafts clear musical textures using small ensembles to support his singers. Sometimes only an instrument or two play to support and idea, though they are obviously used quite differently than a harpsichord or fortepiano in much earlier works. There is much to focus on throughout the work, and one never tires of the interesting and novel ideas Krasa presents. I can easily imagine this work offering something new upon each hearing. I’ll no doubt find out for sure.
As to the performers, well, all concerned do a fine job. I’m not familiar with any of the singers, and though I cannot imagine some of them in meatier roles, all fit their roles. Albert Dohmen’s portrayal of the Prince is probably my favorite vocal performance in the set. Lothar Zagrosek conducts the DSO Berlin superbly, and the band plays as well as one could hope for. Top-notch sound just adds to the appeal of the performance.
As an added bonus, Vladimir Ashkenazy conducts the same band in Krasa’s Symphonie. This short chamber symphony displays most of the traits of the opera, with an odd third movement that includes a soprano singing about the delousing of a child. It is quite interesting.
I rate the set a success if hardly a great find.