Jochum's Lohengrin

Posted by: Todd A on 20 February 2005

It had been a while since I last listened to this wonderful opera – something over a year, though I can’t remember precisely how long. What better way to get back into it than with a new version, I thought. But which one? To my loss, I’ve still not yet heard Kempe’s recording, though I plan on looking into it on the near-ish future, but I did stumble across something quite interesting: a 1954 Bayreuth performance under the baton of Eugen Jochum. My only prior experience with Jochum’s Wagner was his studio Meistersinger from the 70s. I rather enjoyed it, though other versions are superior. When first I spied Jochum’s name attached to the work, I had my doubts. But two seconds later, when I read the cast list, those doubts were erased. Dig this line-up: Wolfgang Windgassen in the lead; Birgit Nilsson as Elsa; Astrid Varnay as Ortrud; Hermann Uhde as Telramund; Theo Adam as King Henry; and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau as the Herald. Try to match that cast today. Since BRO has the Lohengrin for $12, I took a chance.

I can report that this set is a success! Jochum leads an energetic, at times electrifying performance, and doesn’t indulge in excessive interpretive, um, touches. He is direct and cares only about supporting the drama. Don’t take that to mean that he doesn’t let some of the wondrous beauty of the score reveal itself. The opening prelude is simply exquisite, and when more tender, softer playing is needed, it’s there, as when Lohengrin and Elsa are alone together. But this is not a mushy performance, either. Take the opening to Act III: after a thoroughly rousing prelude, the wedding march is tight and swift, with solid, strong (but not overpowering!) choral singing. Should it be a wee bit sweeter, more loving? I suppose it can be played that way, but it doesn’t need to be. When Lohengrin first strikes down Telramund and later kills him, the orchestra, it’s a hoppin’, and when Lohengrin explains to all the distraught people why he must leave, one can feel the angst of the people. Yes, Jochum proves more than capable of leading this wonderful, almost youthful score.

What of the singing? Oh, it’s good. I’ll get the obvious issue out of the way: Birgit Nilsson is a bit overpowering at times, and she rarely sounds like an ideal Elsa (no, she’s no Gundula Janowitz), but she is not as powerful as she became later, and she fits the bill well enough. Wolfgang Windgassen gets off to a slow start, his voice not sounding quite heroic enough, and his tone a bit unsteady. But he improves throughout so that by the third act he commands the stage. It is interesting to hear these two sing together a dozen years before their incredible pairing in Tristan, and even here they work well together. Varnay and Uhde are even better. Uhde makes an especially dark, powerful Telramund, and Varnay, well, she is a superb Ortrud. Their exchange of barbs at the start of Act II is smoking! One hears little danger of Telramund being overpowered, though, so maybe that won’t be to everyone’s taste. Adam’s King is fine ‘n’ regal sounding, and what a nice surprise to hear a young Dieskau open the work in theatrical rather than lieder voice. The choral singing is uniformly superb throughout.

A quick word on sound: as with the other Archipel reissues in the “Desert Island Collection” that I’ve heard (the Krauss and Keilberth Rings, the Krauss Parsifal, the opening prelude to Kna’s ‘52 Meistersinger), the sound is more than acceptable. They acquired some excellent source material, and hiss, crackle, and distortion are all held at bay. In Act II, I did hear a few instances where a high-pitched recording artifact rose to the ether (either that or an Ondes-Martenot was snuck into the pit), and there are a couple dozen data glitches causing some digital chirps, but overall I suffered through perhaps 20 seconds of annoyance in over three hours of listening. No biggie.

So, a success. Yes, there are the occasional goofs from everyone involved, and perhaps a note is missed here, or a voice cracks there, but in the context of a live performance, who cares? Taken as a whole, with a greater emphasis on dramatic power and energy, this is one fine set. Yes, better are out there, but I do like this one and shall keep it. Jochum could deliver some fine Wagner. Good thing I have his 1956 Parsifal sitting in my to-hear pile to find out if he can do well elsewhere. And perhaps his 1953 Bayreuth Tristan (with a Varnay/Vinay tandem) should find its way into my CD player. We’ll see.