Thursday, February 14, 2008

Did Rudolf Schock ruin the greatest opera set of all time? Not really, but yeah, kind of.

EMI, please re-issue this. I recently purchased the complete 5LP set on eBay, and it has changed my life. Kempe's 1956 Die Meistersinger might be the all-time best recording in the catalog -- maybe of any opera ever captured in the studio.

I'm not sure yet. Here's what I do know: Kempe was a consummate Wagnerian in every way. He's full of warmth and charm, of spirit and occasion, of clearly communicated theatricality -- the whole nine yards -- without blurring into exaggerated sentimentality. The late '50s BPO is flexible, firm, authoritative, and yet refined. When I was first getting to know this opera, Karajan's second recording really hit the spot; it's still satisfactory, especially in its fine choral work and exquisite pair of lovers in young Donath and Kollo. But Karajan's overbright, overly polished and at times turgid reading can be pretty dull. Kempe's so-called "conversational" approach (I like to call it "no-nonsense") allows for all of Wagner's varied changes of mood, thought and tone to unfold so beautifully, so specifically, that I'm able to enter into the human experience of it all. And hear it for what it's really worth.

The jewel of Kempe's set is, of course, Elisabeth Grümmer as Eva. In a lot of ways she was the Maria Callas of the lyric German soprano roles: she sings and acts with spontaneity and forward motion, clarity of phrasing, an inherent sense of overall structure and timing -- it's unbelievable. I can't say enough about her. She's the real deal. The rest of the cast is (mostly) stunning: Unger, Höffgen, Frick, Neidlinger, Clam, & Co. provide superior support, and Frantz delivers an interpretively competent, well-sung Sachs.

I haven't heard all of the highly praised Kubelik (now on a new Arts Archive release), so I won't get ahead of myself. I anticipate that Kubelik's greatest strength, however, is Kempe's biggest setback: Walther. And Sandor Konya's Walther, specifically. Rudolf Schock is merely passable on the Kempe; he doesn't ruin the set by any means, but he lacks passion and spontaneity (alongside Grümmer it's doubly painful), and his singing in the Prize Song leaves a lot to be desired. Sure, he has his moments, especially early on, but I prefer even Kollo's more impetuous and athletic style to Schock's general and unfocused characterization. What's infuriating is that Konya worked with Grümmer just THREE years after Kempe's Meistersinger, at Bayreuth in 1959! I know, I know: record label politics are tough. But, wow, here I sit, fully half-a-century later, wondering what could have been. In any case, it's a pity that Konya didn't receive more studio attention.

But none of this matters at all. Why? Because the Kempe is OUT OF PRINT. Other listeners will want to own Karajan's 1951 (beware of Hans Hopf), Solti's first and possibly second, and maybe even the Jochum (which I can't stand, even with a great supporting cast and fabulous conducting). That's all fine. I MUST hear the Kubelik and then I'll know for sure. Right now Kempe is my fav. Have I said enough? Yes. Happy Valentine's.

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