In an attempt to give a twist to the usual orchestral concert, the minds behind the Deutsche Oper had the preposterous idea of inviting a Patch-Adams-like physician to moderate in a Mozart/R. Strauss program. When Intendentin Kirsten Harms introduced him as a Glückspezialist, I could not help understanding he was some sort of expert in the music of Cristoph Willibald GLUCK. But I was wrong – he is indeed a specialist in happiness. And he is can be funny all right, but what is the point of inviting an ignoramus in music to introduce a concert. When someone in the audience shouted “Please let the music begin”, I found it rude at first, but when I realized the moderation only made the concert one hour longer with no added insight to my musical experience, I began to think that – although this person was still rude – he had a point.
As it was, the first part of the concert had weaknesses harder to overlook – I have rarely heard such a spineless performance of Mozart’s Symphony no. 41 as this evening’s. Tempi dragged helplessly, strings had its scrawny moments and were often quite imprecise and Donald Runnicles’s lack of pulse made this congenial work sound finally boring. After the pause, back to his comfort zone, he would prove to be the reliable Straussian he has always been and the house orchestra would respond with rich sonorities and clarity aplenty. He also showed a particularly good ear for producing the right balance between his soloist and the orchestra. And since the soloist was this concert’s main point of interest, I must praise him effusively for that.
I have been writing that, although Anja Harteros offers beautiful performances in Italian opera, her real strength is the German repertoire, especially Richard Strauss. But I’ve said that with the single experience of a performance of the Four Last Songs with Zubin Mehta and the Staatskapelle Berlin last year in the Konzerthaus. This evening she sang two key Straussian scenes and – I won’t keep my four or five readers in suspense – proved me right: this generation has found has in her its leading Strauss soprano. R. Strauss simply brings the best in her – the tone is creamy and floating as usual, she has reserves of strength for the occasional heavier passage, her diction is very clear and the text is, of course, idiomatically and imaginatively handled. The closing scene of Arabella’s act 1 was sung in the grand manner – nothing disturbed the velvetiness of her soprano and rarely has a singer handled the shift to lower register in it as seamlessly as she has done this evening. Capriccio’s closing scene did not lack imagination either. I am afraid, though, that she was not in her absolutely top form this evening and I bet she can sound a bit more comfortable in some high-lying moments where she had to keep dynamics low. But this is comparing her to herself – the warm tone, the sense of style, the no-nonsense interpretation are a reward in themselves. And it doesn’t hurt either that her looks and attitude are perfect for these roles.
I HEAR VOICES 
The Mozart/Strauss thing seems fashionable in Berlin this year – I saw one myself last month.
The Harteros awsomeness is entirely unsurprising. I gather she’s doing Traviata as well. I know you have reservations about her in that repertoire and frankly she doesn’t seem a good fit. She’s does seem to robust and frankly too well adjusted (no-nonsense?) for Violetta but she sang it quite sensationally and at this point is frankly not to be missed in anything.
Speaking of horrendous fits Runnicles and Mozart would seem to be a particularly egregious one … and yet … I heard him conduct a stupendous (and stupendously) cast Figaro in New York 9 or so years ago. This unfortunately seems more consistent with the low expectations.
I saw Runnicles conducting Don Giovanni and Magic Flute. Both quite fast, just like HIP conductors. His DG was very impressive. It is one of the occasions that I felt that the conductor was putting together the whole thing. All bits and pieces were ready to fall apart, but due to the conductor’s tenacity they stayed together. It was from the start to the end like that. Really amazing.
One or two years later, I saw the Magic Flute. Should I forget that the Pamina aria was too fast? It is about time… It was a good performance. I should be fair…
Roberto, I would say that there is more than just slow or fast tempo in it. It is rather knowing how to “focus” the music-making on a point where vertical clarity (let’s call it, “harmonic/polyphonic”) and horizontal clarity (let’s call it “melodic/coherence of phrasing”) converge. This can be achieved in different ways for different tempi. I would say in Mozart, it is generally easier to achieve that in the context of fast tempi. But good, old Karl Böhm could really make something of slower tempi, as in his Clemenza di Tito for DG or Klemperer in his Zauberflöte for EMI. I don’t think Runnicles came close to find it in that concert – the performance sounded basically unfocused from beginning to end. But that was probably the only Mozart I’ve heard from him – so I could not give and have not given an opinion in general terms about his Mozartian abilities.
Last thing – the Pamina aria is supposed to be faster than what we are used to hear. Mozart set the pace as “andante” (and in his days, andante really meant “in a walking pace”), where the sense of a heartbeat is achieved and also the lines (especially the decorated ones in “meinem Herzen mehr zurück”) make far more sense. However, we have grown used to hear it in its slower and more Romantic “approach” – but we have to concede Runnicles that he had a point!
Well, if as you say your posts are destined to be read by 4 or 5 persons, I’m glad to count among these happy few who have followed you for some years now !
Thanks again for this review, I can’t wait to hear Harteros live some day !
Hi, Cavalier!
Which was your Mozart/R. Strauss concert in Berlin? As for Harteros, yes, Traviata tomorrow. I was given a ticket by a friend. I’ll let you know later.
Antoine, thank you – it’s really kind of you! And when you have the opportunity to see A.H, go for it. She sounds really better live than in recordings.
Is it possible to use “frankly” more often or more awkwardly in such a small space?
Konzerthaus. Mozart # 39, Tod & Verklarung/ Bella Mia Fiamma,VLL. Was in town for the week and managed to catch it.
Will certainly be looking forward to your Traviata review. I’ll be surprised if you don’t enjoy it.
Thanks for the note, rml.
I just want to clarify that I don’t have a particular opinion if Mozart should be slow or fast, HIP or not.
As a reference, for symphonies my favorite Mozart HIP recording is from Pinnock and Kubelik (his recording with the Bavarian Radio Orchestra for CBS-Sony) is for non-HIP.
What was interesting for me on that Runnicle’s performance is that it was the first time I heard DG being played with tempos that I heard on HIP recordings on a non-HIP orchestra.
After I read what you wrote, I am thinking the last time I head Mozart being played romantically like Giuliani, Karajan, Klemperer or Bohm used to play. From what I’ve been hearing, nobody plays like that anymore. But my sample rate is very, very small…
rml,
Yesterday I listened to the Pamina aria with Edith Mathis (Karajan) and it reminded me of this conversation.
What would Mozart think of this interpretation if all of sudden he joins us from a time machine? I am almost sure that he would be in tears and give his blessing.
The slower approach captures with much precision the disillusion and agony that is going through Pamina. This is even more true if we consider Edith Mathis interpretation, with that beautiful legato at the end. Pamina gets so depressed that even tries to commit suicide a few moments later.
If we hear this aria in Andante the way Mozart intended, it almost feel like a uplifting song, which was obviously not Mozart’s intention.
Well, Roberto – Mozart was a man of the XVIIIth century. He never listened to Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata, to a Schubert song, to Bellini’s Norma, to Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, he never read Hölderlin, Brentano, Chamisso, Eichendorff, never saw a painting by Caspar David Friedrich… So he did not have a “Romantic” sensitiveness. What I mean – he did not see in the andante an “uplifting tempo”. He probably felt the rhythm of an anxious breathingor that the melisme worked to its best effect that way… We have been exposed to Romanticism (and I would dare to say that everybody, even those who have no interest in arts and culture, have been intensely exposed to Romanticism) and therefore we experience an aria like Ach, ich fühl’s in a different way – we search in it different things than those someone born in 1756 would look for in a piece of music. The feelings are, of course the same, but the way they are expressed have different nuances. In any case, I don’t believe that there is a “right” answer for us. I like the slow tempo when the singer is expressive such as Lucia Popp or Margaret Price, but I think it is worth while setting our Romantic lens aside and looking at Classical works from a Classical perspective, even if it is just for a change. You might prefer the “Romantic way” in the end, but it is always worth while to see a well-known piece under a different light, I would say.
I couldn’t agree more with you, rml.
Reading your text made me think what Mozart would think about Tristan und Isolde. I would guess that on the first and second hearings, he would be flabbergasted. Then he will start to have mixed feelings and eventually he would slam it.