Showing posts with label Historic recordings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Historic recordings. Show all posts
Sunday, 27 July 2014
Favourite historic recordings :Lucien Fugere: "C'est un Torrent Impétueux", Pelerins de la Mecque
Two dates are relevant for this recording
1848 - date of birth
1929 - date of recording
That means that Fugère was 81 when his was recorded - you would never believe just from listening to this that the singer was anything like that age. It shows the importance of a good technique and in particular using the words as well as the notes.
Fugère was a mainstay of French operatic life for many years, creating roles in operas by Massenet, Charpentier, and Chabrier amongst others.
There is a link to another of these posts, in that Hugues Cuénod heard Fugère sing live (his last performance was in 1933 at the age of 85). Cuénod made his last appearance at the age of 90 and died only in 2010 at the age of 108.
Sunday, 13 July 2014
Favourite historic recordings :Medea Mei Figner Liza's aria from The Queen Of Spades
Writing about Tchaikovsky this morning led me to thinking about another post in my "historical" series. This is Medea Mei Figner, who created the role of Liza in the Queen of Spades in 1890 along with her Husband, who created the role of Hermann. The couple were an important part of the Russian operatic work at the end of the 19th century and created several important roles. Medea also gave the first Russian performance of several key roles, including Mimi, in La Boheme, for which she received coaching from Puccini himself.
There is a magic about creator records, particular those stretching so far back, and it is wonderful to be able to hear this. But there is also a note of caution to be had. Tchaikovsky got very annoyed with the way that the Figners altered his music - they even wanted to him to revise the printed score to reflect their "improvements". The end of this aria is a case in point - the printed score does not include the very low notes with which Mei Figner ends the aria. Some sources say that this is an alternative ending sanctioned by Tchaikovsky, but others are not as definitive and it is at least possible that the invention was from Mei Figner alone and Tchaikovsky was forced to go along with it.
Medea had a very interesting life and lived on until 1952. Very late in life she recorded an interview in which she talked about working with Tchaikovsky. So far I have not tracked this down on line but if I do I will post a link
Tuesday, 27 May 2014
Favourite historic recording. Harry Plunket Green Hurdy Gurdy Man - Schubert Der Leiermann - W...
This is simply one of the most moving recordings I know. Plunket Green was an important concert singer - most famous for taking part in the first performance of The Dream of Gerontius - and an influential teacher and writer on singing.
He was born in 1865, so he was almost 70 when he recorded this - the last song of Winterreise. Much of the voice has gone but there is enough left to support the superb insight into the way that the words and music work as one. Somehow the fact that this is in English (albeit with an unmistakable Irish accent) makes it all the more vivid.
Winterreise is a young man's journey, ending up in despair as he meets the hurdy gurdy man. Plunkett Green seems here to become the hurdy gurdy man himself.
I got to know Winterreise at University and one of my guides was Richard Capel's book on Schubert's songs. This would now be regarded as a very old fashioned book with too much description and not enough analysis, but I think that it still has valuable things to say, and certainly at the time I found it a very good companion. The commentary on this song has stayed in my memory for what must now be the best part of 40 years.
That is fine writing and an ideal introduction to this recording
He was born in 1865, so he was almost 70 when he recorded this - the last song of Winterreise. Much of the voice has gone but there is enough left to support the superb insight into the way that the words and music work as one. Somehow the fact that this is in English (albeit with an unmistakable Irish accent) makes it all the more vivid.
Winterreise is a young man's journey, ending up in despair as he meets the hurdy gurdy man. Plunkett Green seems here to become the hurdy gurdy man himself.
I got to know Winterreise at University and one of my guides was Richard Capel's book on Schubert's songs. This would now be regarded as a very old fashioned book with too much description and not enough analysis, but I think that it still has valuable things to say, and certainly at the time I found it a very good companion. The commentary on this song has stayed in my memory for what must now be the best part of 40 years.
A wonder is reserved for the last page of the ' Winterreise.' Given a thousand guesses, no one could have said that the last song would be at all like this. Miiller must be given his due. Der Leiermann was an inspired ending. The madman meets a beggar, links with him his fortune ; and the two disappear into the snowy landscape. Schubert must be given his due. He realized the beauty of the proffered subject. No one else would have taken it quite like this. Almost anyone else would have overdone it. We say that such a man was worthy of any gift. How this one was compensated in the acceptance ! The result is pure poetry. The lamenta- tions of seventy pages have died away. We may read any- thing or nothing much into the cleared scene. All that happens is the drone and tinkling of the hurdy-gurdy. The bass A and its fifth sound throughout the piece (a device here renewed from Schubert's use of it in the Pastoral Melody in ' Rosamunde '). The hurdy-gurdy's two-bar tune enters intermittently between the wanderer's half -numb sentences, which strike us strangely after all that has gone before. Only near the end is there a glimmer of warmth. An almost toneless song. But what a task to set a singer at the end of an hour and half ! Der Leiermann has had unforgettable interpreters, like George Henschel and Plunket Greene. The ' Winterreise ' as a whole awaits one. No one in our time has had quite all the qualities of heart, head, and voice. A fine voice is wanted to hold the attention for so long, but the most musical tone will pall here if it is not the servant of the imagination. The singer must have sympathy with the passionate temper. For the dry of heart, the ' Winterreise ' might as well not exist
That is fine writing and an ideal introduction to this recording
Thursday, 15 May 2014
Favourite historic recordings: Adelina Patti Ah Non Credea Mirarti
With my first two postings in this category no special pleading was required. On any level the performances spring to life out of the loudspeaker and no further explanation is needed.
Is that also the case for this posting - the famous recording of Bellini's Ah Non Credea from La Sonnambula. Would a listener coming to this cold with no background immediately see the greatness of this performance or would they dismiss it as the sad and uncontrolled warblings of an old lady?
I think it is wonderful, but have known this for so long that I can no longer quite tell whether I am responding objectively to the sound or am influenced by the face that this is a recording of the most famous singer of the latter half of the 19th century, admired by Rossini and Verdi among others, and therefore a tantalising link back to the distant operatic past? So am I projecting my own thoughts as to what I want this to sound like on top of what I am actually hearing?
I can' rule this out, but I really do think that this is remarkable singing. The tone itself is not particularly attractive and this is clearly the voice of somebody at the end of her career, but what sets its part is the style. The way that the legato line is floated over the accompaniment with subtle rubato reminds me of nothing as much as a performance of a Chopin Nocturne played by a really fine pianist. It is all so effortless and she seems to have all of the time in the world to fit in the decorations in the vocal line. And the technique itself is still in good shape - the trills are famous and the chromatically inflected runs are beautifully poised.
The cadenza towards the end is a bit rough - I suspect that she got too close to the recording horn in her enthusiasm, but you can can forgive this.
If you have never heard this before try it - do you hear the magic?
I love the story - which may be apocryphal but which deserves to be true - that when Patti didn't want to go to a rehearsal she sent her maid to stand in for her! Those were the days.
Friday, 9 May 2014
Favourite historic recordings; Sir Charles Santley The Vicar of Bray
This takes us almost as far back into operatic history as possible. Charles Santley was a pillar of the British musical establishment for most of the second half of the 19th century. He took part in the first staged performance of a Wagner opera in England and Gounod was so impressed by his performance as Valentin in Faust that he wrote an additional aria for him.
Santley gave up the operatic stage relatively early in his career and concentrated on oratorio and ballad singing - in those days it was perfectly possible for a "serious" singer to perform ballads - indeed the ballad concert was a very important past of Victorian music life.
Santley made a number of recordings at the end of his career, mostly of the ballad repertory. This is my favourite - the Vicar of Bray, recorded in1904. Santley was born in 1834 so he was 70 when he recorded this.
Clearly this is the voice on an old man and you can hear the wear and tear in the voice. But what I love is the way that he projects the words so vividly. The relish with which he delivers the last line of each verse "I'll be the vicar of Bray sir!" always makes me smile.
We really are linked a long way back through this recording. In his memoirs Santley recalls a performance of Elijah in his youth (he was singing in the chorus) and talks about the difficulties of rehearsal because "this was a comparatively recent work" . Santley was a Garcia pupil, and Garcia's father was the creator of important tenor roles, most notably the count in Rossini's Barber of Seville.
The past is not as far away as we sometimes think!
Santley gave up the operatic stage relatively early in his career and concentrated on oratorio and ballad singing - in those days it was perfectly possible for a "serious" singer to perform ballads - indeed the ballad concert was a very important past of Victorian music life.
Santley made a number of recordings at the end of his career, mostly of the ballad repertory. This is my favourite - the Vicar of Bray, recorded in1904. Santley was born in 1834 so he was 70 when he recorded this.
Clearly this is the voice on an old man and you can hear the wear and tear in the voice. But what I love is the way that he projects the words so vividly. The relish with which he delivers the last line of each verse "I'll be the vicar of Bray sir!" always makes me smile.
We really are linked a long way back through this recording. In his memoirs Santley recalls a performance of Elijah in his youth (he was singing in the chorus) and talks about the difficulties of rehearsal because "this was a comparatively recent work" . Santley was a Garcia pupil, and Garcia's father was the creator of important tenor roles, most notably the count in Rossini's Barber of Seville.
The past is not as far away as we sometimes think!
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Favourite historic recordings: Reynaldo Hahn L'île heureuse (1909)
My link to the Mapleson cylinders on my Meyerbeer post has got be thinking about historic recordings so I though that I would start a series of my favourite historic recordings.
This first brings together two of my current enthusiasms - Chabrier and Hahn. Like most people my early experience of Chabrier was Espana, which is in my view unparallelled as a single movement orchestral showpiece. And of course a great piece for a bassoonist to play. It is comparatively recently that I have got to know more of Chabrier's music and every discovery increases my admiration for his distinctive voice. If you want to experiment try the introduction to the unfinished opera Briséïs or the completely mad Duo de l’ouvreuse de l’Opéra Comique et l’employé du Bon Marché which has to be heard to be believed (anybody for a yodel!)
Raynaldo Hahn is a recent discovery - I heard a extract from the Susan Graham Hahn recital and was completely hooked. His melodic invention and evocative mood is captivating.
Hahn was a great musical all rounder - he was a composer, musical administrator and conductor but most importantly for my present purposes a singer. Judged purely on beauty of tone he can't be said to be up there with the greats, but what makes his recordings so memorable is their sense of style and total immersion in the idiom.
Take this recording of what is probably Chabrier's greatest song. A modern performance, such as that of a singer like Felicity Lott with a professional accompanist like Graham Johnson is on a purely technical level more secure and accomplished. But nobody quite gets to the heart of the style like Hahn. Pinning down what makes it special is not easy, but I think that it has a lot to do with the very subtle rubato all through the vocal line. Hahn is essentially moulding the words and the vocal line into one seamless whole. And this is self accompanied. Again judged on purely technical grounds this has some problems - not least a few wrong notes - but again who cares when it is delivered with such panache.
This was recorded in 1909 - not that long after Chabrier's death. I don't know for certain whether Chabrier ever heard Hahn sing it, but I would have thought that this was quite likely, because they certainly were part of the same musical circles.
The recording quality is pretty good for the time and you soon get used to filtering out the surface noise.
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