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Home , Charlotte Margiono, Ed Spanjaard, Gottfried Semper, Johan Botha (tenor), Max Lorenz (tenor), Nathaniel Merrill

Wer über sieben Fehler verlor, Hat versungen und ganz verthan! Spring 2007 –Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg Volume 4, Number 2

From the Editor

Wagneriana in Color

he Boston Society is pleased to offer you the newsletter in color, starting with this issue. Last spring our print shop ran an issue of Wagneriana in color by mistake, and we realized how T much better the photos (and the newsletter in general) looked. At its annual meeting this year, the Board of Directors decided to purchase a color printer so we can do our own printing, which will be very economical in the long run. Having our own printer will also enable us to print color flyers and posters.

Survey of Favorite CDs and DVDs/Videos

Thanks to all who sent in their surveys on favorite CDs and DVDs or videos. About 5 percent of the membership responded. To see the results, please see page 12.

The Wagner Journal Is Launched

Barry Millington and Stewart Spencer, two British Wagnerian scholars, have launched a new publication titled The Wagner Journal, which will be issued three times a year (March, July, and November) . Barry Millington is the author/editor of seven books on Wagner, including The Wagner Compendium ; he also wrote the entries on Wagner and his for the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians and the New Grove Dictionary of . Stewart Spencer is a translator. The first issue of The Wagner Journal , which just came out, contains an article with the following: an “intriguing unpublished Wagner letter to a Milanese couturier adding fuel to the theory that Wagner may have exhibited cross-dressing tendencies.” This copiously annotated article has already received considerable media attention in the U.K.’s Guardian and the New York Times. The author, Stewart Spencer, suggests that some of the sartorial items (namely, a few dresses) Wagner ordered as presents for Cosima from his milliner, Charlotte Chaillon, may in fact have been for his own use! This statement is pure speculation. It is true that Wagner loved luxurious fabrics, but there is not a shred of evidence to indicate that he was also a cross-dresser. We can only conclude that the purpose of this pseudo-scholarly article is to titillate readers. An annual subscription to The Wagner Journal costs $95 for the print edition only, $58 for the on-line version only, and $104 for both. For more information, go to www.thewagnerjournal.co.uk .

A New Wagner Society Is Born

Another Wagner society has been added to our list of societies in the United States: the Wagner Society of Ohio. This group is sponsoring a symposium on May 11–13, 2007, featuring Wagnerian experts such as Jeffrey Buller, Laurie Lashbrook, and . For more information, go to www.wagnersocietyofohio.org . –Dalia Geffen

Die Meistersinger at the : Two Views

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg: Metropolitan Opera, cond. ; production: Otto Schenk; Hans Sachs: James Morris; Walther von Stolzing: ; Eva: Hei-Kyung Hong; David: Matthew Polenzani; Veit Pogner: Evgeny Nikitin; Beckmesser: Hans-Joachim Ketelsen; Magdalene: Maria Zifchak; Night Watchman:

Act 2 of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg at the Metropolitan Opera. Photo by Beth Bergman.

In its only Wagner offering this season, New York’s Metropolitan Opera has revived its 1993 production of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. This is the same glorious Otto Schenk production with traditional set designs by Günther Schneider-Siemssen that is available for viewing on the Met’s DVD (which, as here, also features James Morris as the wise poet-cobbler, Hans Sachs). We were fortunate to obtain tickets for this sold-out run for Monday March 5. They were a birthday present to me from my wife, Suki, who back in September presented me with a scroll, complete with photograph, announcing that we would go to New York in March to hear Die Meistersinger. She could not have chosen a better gift, as I had not attended a performance of this work since 1976, when I saw the Met’s 1962 Nathaniel Merrill production, which also featured realistic set designs, that time by Robert O’Hearn. For me, hearing Die Meistersinger also brought back happy memories of this past summer when I had the opportunity to see the new Ring—my first Bayreuth experience. My first stop was Nürnberg, where I had a chance to explore this city on foot, learn something of its storied history, and sample its famous bratwurst. Walking around the restored medieval Altstadt, it was easy to imagine life in the mid-16 th century, when the events depicted in the opera take place. One can visit the Albrecht Dürer House (Eva mentions him in the opera), the Kaiserberg (realistically depicted at the Met with its tall towers in the background in the final scene), and the ruins of St. Katherine’s Church, site of the actual Meistersinger singing school, in which the opera opens. Alas, the building itself, a former Dominican convent, was completely gutted by fire in 1945. Fortunately, Nürnberg’s most famous churches, St. Sebalduskirche (13 th c.), the Frauenkirche at the end of the main square (14 th c.), and the Lorenzenkirche

2 (13–15 th c.), all survive and can be visited. Thus, it was a pleasure for me to see the Met’s realistic set designs and period costumes, for Die Meistersinger evokes the city and the era so well. In contrast to most of Wagner’s great works, Die Meistersinger is a comic opera. Deryck Cooke states unequivocally that it is “one of the great comic operas of all time” and reminds us that its completion fell between und Isolde and . According to Cooke (who cites Wagner’s autobiography, ), Wagner wrote the scenario for Die Meistersinger in a single day in 1845, when he had just finished the full score for Tannhäuser and was contemplating writing . He then laid it aside for many years, returning to it only in 1861. Although Wagner conceived of it as, among other things, a “practical” work, by the time it was finished six years later it was over five hours long. The first performance took place in on June 21, 1868, led by Hans von Bülow, who, as David Hamilton points out in his excellent program notes to the current Met production, was to lose his wife, Cosima, permanently to Wagner just six months later. To my ears (I am neither a music critic nor a musicologist!) the quality of the singing on our evening at the Met was excellent overall. Of course, James Morris steals the show as Hans Sachs. His portrayal of the character as a kindly, enlightened elder had some wonderful touches. One example is in the preliminary trial-song scene. As Walther sings his song of spring and love—and breaks all of the traditional rules of master singing—the Meistersingers react with visible horror at what is transpiring. In contrast, Morris as Hans Sachs sits quietly at the end of the row, leaning forward to listen attentively and clearly contemplating the impact of what he is hearing. Of course, Sachs’s meditations in Act 3 (“Wahn! Wahn! Überall Wahn” [Mad! Mad! All the world’s mad!]) were marvelous in both the singing and the acting. Morris’s voice began to give out after his lengthy part near the end of Act 3, Scene 1, and there were moments of hoarseness; however, he recovered admirably in time for Scene 2 and especially the paean to German art at the very end! He received the loudest and longest ovation at the end and clearly deserved it. Johan Botha, who hails from South Africa, sang Walther splendidly, although his size and stature made it hard to imagine him as a “young knight.” He looked closer to Sachs in age than to the object of his affection, Eva. As the goldsmith Veit Pogner, Evgeny Nikitin sang well but looked almost too young to be Eva’s father. As always, James Levine and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra were magnificent. Maestro Levine clearly loves Wagner’s music. With his able handling of Wagner’s lengthy works, he has definitively answered anyone who is still worried about the state of his health The Kaiserberg, Nürnberg. Photo by Miguel de or his stamina! Bragança One final practical note: The Met’s Die Meistersinger begins at 6 p.m. for the evening performances and goes until midnight, with two intermissions. This presents the usual problem of what to do about dinner, especially in our case, as we cannot stand the idea of eating dinner at 5 p.m. or earlier and don’t really want to start a big dinner after midnight. Our solution: the Met’s Grand Tier Restaurant. The staff have it down to an exact science. I made a reservation in advance, and they in turn faxed us a menu and order form, which we dutifully filled out. We chose to have our appetizer and main course during the first intermission, and dessert and coffee during the second intermission. (One can also have part of the meal before the start of the opera and 3 finish during the first intermission.) This does require jumping out of one’s seat the moment the curtain comes down. Once you get to the restaurant, a phalanx of servers with lists show you to your seats where your food is waiting. (The main course is kept warm while you eat your appetizer.) We were amazed at how relaxing the whole experience was. We never felt rushed or that we had to wolf down our food to get back to our seats in time. –Miguel de Bragança Miguel de Bragança is a member of the Boston Wagner Society. ______

he March 10 Saturday afternoon performance was quite spectacular. The voices of the leads held up beautifully, and the sets and choreography were extravagant and colorful. For example, in Act T2 the rising street scene between Sachs’s workshop and Pogner’s house created a very effective illusion of a cramped medieval town. In the great festival scene in Act 3, Scene 2, I counted a joyous throng of roughly 225 men, women, and children onstage. The length of the opera, by my watch six hours and two minutes from Prelude to final curtain, must have placed extraordinary demands on soloists, orchestra, cast, and conductor. As usual, the rather portly James Levine conducted throughout from his chair. I noticed lots of comings and goings by members of the orchestra during the performance, some of whom returned to the pit with large coffee containers. The program notes stated that the current production presents Wagner’s score “absolutely complete, probably for the first time in Met history.” I wondered what parts had been restored. The music, of course, was glorious. I marveled at Wagner’s ability to write both memorable melodies and their parody in intentionally discordant tunes. For example, the clerk Beckmesser has the task of singing a fractured, unpleasant song in Act 3, Scene 2, just before Walther transforms the dissonance into his own highly melodic, prize-winning song. In the last part of the opera, I was struck again and again by the strident nationalism, racism, and implicit anti-Semitism in the text. The genial Sachs constantly refers to the salvation of Germany from the world’s madness through authentic art, meaning German art raised to the status of religion. A critic once described Meistersinger as a “lance against Western civilization.” Woody Allen claimed: “I can’t listen to that much Wagner. I start getting the urge to conquer Poland.” As for me, when I hear Wagner, I have the urge to question how such music can be written by a great spirit with such great prejudices. –Richard Hunt Richard Hunt is a member of the Boston Wagner Society.

Christine Brewer Wows a Montreal Audience

Tristan und Isolde: Orchestre symphonique de Montréal, cond. Kent Nagano; Tristan: John Treleaven; Isolde: ; Brangäne: Martina Dike; Kurwenal: Dietrich Henschel; King Marke: James Moellenhoff

On Thursday, February 15, 2006, I spent eight hours traveling to get to the Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier at Montreal’s Place des Arts. That evening I attended at a concert by L’orchestre symphonique de Montreal under its new music director, Kent Nagano. The orchestra seems to be on the road to recovery after a turbulent period having to do with its relationship with its previous music director, Charles Dutoit. There was abundant acrimony on both sides. Now all that is in the past, and Nagano and the orchestra are experiencing a more pacific relationship. Certainly the Tristan concert showed what can happen when goodwill exists between the maestro and musicians. The playing was accomplished and spirited. California-born Nagano is an experienced opera conductor, having recently taken over the musical directorship of the in Munich from Zubin Mehta. He has a Boston connection in that as a fledgling novice he worked with Sarah Caldwell here and served as assistant conductor to Ozawa at the Boston Symphony. Unfortunately, he conducted as if the best way to 4 get through the opera was to downplay the more lyrical moments and to speed up the more impassioned ones. The English horn solo at the beginning of the third act did not evince soulfulness or pathos, and the sounded as if Nagano had suddenly realized that if he didn’t finish the opera very soon, the orchestra would go into costly overtime. There were several cast changes. Of the five principals originally scheduled, only two showed up—the Christine Brewer and the Dietrich Henschel. The Brangäne, Swedish mezzo-soprano Martina Dike, had a large, bright, and monochromatic sound that cut through the orchestral tuttis easily. American James Moellenhoff, a member of the Leipzig Opera company, had the voice for King Marke but none of the sense of hurt and deception that René Pape brings to the role. He was also hampered by the “let’s-get-on-with-it” tempos. German baritone Henschel sang Kurwenal with enormous authority. It would be good to hear him in a Lieder recital. British John Treleaven acquitted Soprano Christine Brewer himself honorably. Replacing as Tristan is not an enviable position in which to find oneself. His voice is not large but well produced, and even the last-act scenes of delirium did not faze him. That brings us to our Isolde, American soprano Christine Brewer. At the Metropolitan Opera, Brewer has sung only ’s . Why is that? She is second to none in terms of voice, temperament, and artistry. Her voice caressed the ear with the most beautiful sounds we have heard from a Wagnerian soprano. Not only were her tones ravishing, but she phrased like a great Verdi soprano. Her voice is strong and secure, from the low notes right up to the high Cs in the second-act duet with Tristan. I had seen her as Isolde in Edinburgh in 2005, and found it excellent then. Today she is peerless. The prolonged ovations she received from the Montreal audience were well deserved. –Angelo Mammano Angelo Mammano is the assistant editor of Wagneriana.

Musings on the Wagnerian Circle in Santiago, Chile

any societies dedicated to honoring composers of classical music have spread in the world; however, Wagnerian societies seem to be more numerous. is and has been one M of the most controversial composers and writers, not only because of his musical and dramatic contributions, but also because of his political and sometimes contradictory adherences. As a high school student, I joined the Wagnerian Circle of Santiago, Chile, in 1966. It was a self- financed organization, housed at the private residence of its president, Dr. Hans Schlotfeld, a veterinarian of German origin. I remember that we benefited from recent records of the Bayreuth Festivals which we broadcasted ourselves with the collaboration of some local radio enterprises. Lectures and films on Richard Wagner’s work were conducted with the sponsorship of the Goethe Institute of Santiago, which provided us with a venue. In addition, some of our lucky members got to attend the Bayreuth Festivals, an experience which the youngest members could only dream of. It is true that several members of this circle were of German origin, but others were genuine Chileans or enjoyed bicultural backgrounds. The target for all of us was really simple: to meet, to soak up Wagner’s music, and to study and discuss his work. Without a doubt, the presence in our circle of bilingual members who spoke Spanish and German facilitated the discussion of Wagner’s works. In fact, the history of a German presence was old in our country. German immigration to Chile was initiated by the Law of Selective Immigration of 1845, approved by President Manuel Montt, which aimed to bring persons with high cultural and labor standards to colonize the Chilean zones of the south between Valdivia and Puerto Montt. Approximately 20,000 Germans settled in the south of Chile at that time. Prior to this, some of them had taken to the

5 streets and pressured the king with their demands for electoral reform and social justice there. A number of them, including Richard Wagner, became involved in political activities and had to flee from Dresden when the revolution was stifled. As we know, Wagner escaped to Zurich. Many Dresdeners reestablished themselves farther away, even in such a finis terrae as Chile, as people used to call this country, paraphrasing the way in which the Romans referred to the edge of the world. Opera was a genre that was much enjoyed by the cultivated Chilean elites. Chile achieved independence from Spain in 1818, and European opera was a part of the affirmation of republican life. Profits from saltpeter and From left to right: Dr. Hans Scholtfeld, copper allowed the importation of highly professional Ramón Vinay, and Dr. Gina Canepa as a operatic companies from France and , which completed teenager. intercontinental tours by performing in the most significant Chilean cities. Since Chile is 2,880 miles long, its urban, civil, and administrative life was sited in the central zone, so far that the southern German migrants had less impact on the process of designing its cultural politics. In his book The Opera in Chile (1976), my father stated that the introduction of Wagnerian music dramas was rather sporadic: Lohengrin debuted in 1889, Tannhäuser in 1897, in 1920, and Tristan und Isolde in 1935. The Wagnerian Circle in Santiago, Chile, tried to fill a vacuum, although the duration of this circle was relatively short and concluded its activities in 1972, one year before a military coup d’état marked the end of a long democratic history of Chile. The preceding three years of the Socialist president Dr. Salvador Allende, the winner in a democratic election, had generated adhesion and division in the entire nation, and the Wagnerian Circle was no exception. I moved to the former West Berlin in 1974, where I lived for twenty years. My devotion to Richard Wagner’s works never declined, despite the fact that in Germany Wagner was a controversial figure. Today, as a resident of the United States, I feel delighted to have found out about the existence of the Boston Wagner Society by accident. Many years passed since I was a member of the Wagnerian Circle in Santiago, Chile. However, I still have pleasant memories, among them, the Chilean singer Ramón Vinay sharing with us a coffee hour in 1969. What a superb spirit Vinay was. We overwhelmed him with questions. His histrionic and, at the same time, approachable nature facilitated the conversation, leading us on rewarding paths. We were fascinated with his personal version of his ability to transit from a baritone register to a tenor. As I recall, the role of Don José served as his famous debut at the Metropolitan Opera in February 1946 (where he was recurrently engaged until 1966). However, his international career began when invited him to sing in a recording released by RCA (1946). Later, Vinay became a broadly acknowledged interpreter of Heldentenor roles, focusing on Wagner, and he appeared in Bayreuth regularly between 1952 and 1957. His repertoire included Tristan, Parsifal, Siegmund, and Tannhäuser. In 1962 he returned to the baritone roles, singing Telramund at Bayreuth, as well as the Italian roles of Iago, , and Scarpia in other opera houses. Even in his farewell performance in Verdi’s Otello, which took place in the Municipal Theater in Santiago, Chile, in 1969, he sang the first two acts as Iago (in the baritone register) and the last act as Otello (in the tenor register). After this triumphant presentation, he settled in New York for a while. Chile has produced several singers who enjoyed success in Italian opera, but Vinay was one of the best. Another singer was the Wagnerian soprano Blanca Hauser (1906–97), who shared protagonist roles with and Ramón Vinay, among others. Vinay’s interest in Wagner, like mine, continues to this day. –Gina Canepa Gina Canepa is a member of the Boston Wagner Society.

6 Some Notes on Götterdämmerung

This is the third and last in a series of articles given as a talk at a concert by Johanna Porackova and Jeffrey Brody on September 10, 2006. The concert was sponsored by the Boston Wagner Society.

“Too low; too high; too long!” The speaker is Hungarian Eva Marton in a surprisingly minimalist comment for a diva when speaking of one of her roles. The occasion was an interview during her first Ring Cycle Brünnhildes at the San Francisco Opera. Brünnnhilde is a difficult and complex role, vocally, psychologically, and dramatically. She progresses from being a projection of another character’s will through her revolt against Wotan, expulsion from godhood, sexual awakening as a woman, betrayal and humiliation in the human world, and final triumph as the true hero of the Ring , the one and only character with the courage and moral strength to make the sacrifice required to purify and redeem the world. There are several prototypes for Brünnhilde in European myth and history. Among the earliest is the Burgundian queen Brynhild. The Burgundians have long been identified by scholars as the Waltraute and Brünnhilde Gibichungs of Götterdämmerung. Old Queen Brynhild was a powerful and crafty ruler whose male vassals eventually tired of her dominance. When she was seventy, they tethered her behind her horse and whipped the animal into a frenzy, dragging her to her death—a classic instance of a strong woman brought down by a group of envious, weaker men. In the Sagas we meet the Icelandic queen Brunhilde. It is for her that potential suitors must compete in a series of athletic trials to prove themselves worthy. Since Gunnar, the Saga’s version of Gunther, isn’t quite up to that, his new blood brother, Siegfried, makes himself invisible through the Tarnhelm’s magic and boosts Gunnar through the broad jump and other contests to win the bride. You’ll certainly all recognize how Wagner absorbed that into the end of act one of Götterdämmerung. My favorite Brünnhilde source story is in the , the medieval romance that presents many of the Ring stories in a highly courtly setting. Except one. This one is understood by scholars as clearly a much earlier story from a more primitive time, so that the Nibelungenlied’s author simply couldn’t resist using in its original form—and for good reason. It’s irresistible. On their wedding night, Gunther and Brünnhilde are conveyed to the bridal chamber much like Lohengrin and Elsa (indeed, a confrontation on the cathedral steps between Brünnhilde and Kriemhild— the Nibelung ’s version of Gutrune—for precedence entering the church had already been used by Wagner for Elsa’s confrontation with Ortrud in Act 2 of Lohengrin ). Before Gunther can get very far in making conjugal advances, Brünnhilde takes a length of rope, tackles Gunther, wraps him head to toe in it, secures the rope cocoon with a knot, and hangs him from a peg in the wall for the night. At dawn, she releases him to do his duties, but he spends many nights back on that wall, which tells us just as much about Gunther as it does about his heroic bride. Wagner went through a couple of endings for the Ring that he sensed were just not quite right, including one in which Brünnhilde, in a sky tableau, was seen leading Siegfried on Grane up to Valhalla. But he finally came to realize that the ultimate hero of the Ring wasn’t Siegfried, whose potential was so tragically lost when he was duped and betrayed by the Gibich clan, but Brünnhilde whose wisdom, as recommended to Wotan in Act 3 of Siegfried by Erda, enables her to see the truth and know what must be done.

7 The Immolation calls for all of a soprano’s vocal and physical skill. It requires a wide vocal range and stamina, as well as nobility and depth of compassion. And whether she actually mounts a horse and leaps over the fire effect (as did Marjorie Lawrence, against all reasonable advice, at the old Met) or climbs a height and drops into the fire (as did at Bayreuth) or rushes upstage through a nightmare of mistimed cues that bring the hall down too early, nearly killing her (as did Hildegard Behrens in the Met’s current production), she has to make a spectacular vocal exit to set up what is perhaps the most vividly descriptive cataclysm in music, and end Wagner’s cycle in the grand style it demands and so richly deserves. –William Fregosi

William Fregosi is T echnical Coordinator for Theater Arts at MIT. On January 10, 2004, he gave the Boston Wagner Society’s first presentation, titled “Wagner and Postmodern Production.”

Valhalla Comes to Boston

ith all the seriousness and possibly even profundity that permeate so much of Richard Wagner’s oeuvre, many have sought (and a few have succeeded) to poke fun at the gods and Wgoddesses, dwarfs, giants, and myriad creatures of the deep that permeate his masterly creations. Some of us may recall What's Opera, Doc?, a short animated cartoon in which Elmer Fudd chases Bugs Bunny through a seven-minute parody of Wagner’s operas, particularly . It was first released theatrically on July 6, 1957. In this cartoon, Bugs Bunny is struck dead by a lightning bolt. He nevertheless manages to raise his head and remark to the audience, “Well, what do you expect in an opera? A happy ending?” Of course the great Anna Russell made a career out of her 30-minute synopsis of The Ring of the Nibelungs. The line that always got the audience was one they had heard and heard again: “I’m not making this up, you know!” There have been countless examples over the years of Wagnerian parody, of artists who found that when one scratches beneath the surface, one finds much to caricature. A recent example is Valhalla, a play originally produced at the New York Theatre Workshop on February 5, 2004. The author, Paul Rudnick, is a successful novelist and screenwriter as well as a playwright. In Valhalla, he concentrates on the life of King Ludwig the Second of , the monarch who was so enthralled by Wagner the man and Wagner the composer that he devoted huge sums of money to the fulfillment of Wagner’s extravagant needs. He compares, or rather, juxtaposes Ludwig’s life with that of a fictional 1940’s Texan named James Avery. Rudnick states that “ Valhalla emerged from my lifelong fascination with Ludwig of Bavaria, a gloriously romantic figure known, tellingly, as both the Dream King and the Mad King.” Comedy (of the screwball variety, some might say) is abundant in this play, but with a gay sensibility. The wordplay between characters is both hilarious and at times rather outrageous. There are allusions to several Wagnerian characters, and in fact the duel between Lohengrin and Telramund is enacted with a comic touch that Wagner himself could never have imagined. We Wagnerites will recognize and appreciate the many references to Wagnerian characters. Rudnick also requires music in Valhalla. Audiences will find many opportunities to enjoy familiar motifs during the course of the play. Rudnick writes at the closing of Act 2, “Music from Lohengrin fills the theater.” That, at least, would have met with Wagner’s wholehearted approval. Angelo Mammano

Valhalla will be performed by the Zeitgeist Stage Company between April 13 and May 5, at the Boston Center for the Arts. For tickets, call 617-933-8600. For more information, go to www.zeitgeiststage.com.

8

A Gastromusical Journey

C lassical Cooks: A Gastrohistory of Western Music, by Ira Braus, with a foreword by pianist Frederic Chiu and illustrations by students of the Hartford Art School; Xlibris, 2006, hardcover and paper, 190 pp.

re we to thank the lowly coffee bean for Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony? Should we convey our profound gratitude to the coffee A mill for helping Schubert compose his incomparable ? And finally, can we contemplate the fact that without Mathilde Wesen- donck’s zwieback, Tristan und Isolde —horror of horrors—might never have seen the light of day? These and other amusing tidbits fill the pages of musicologist Ira Braus’s delectable gustatory journey from Guillaume de Machaut (1300–1377) to David Cleary (1954–). This bonbon of a book forages in composers’ kitchens, favorite restaurants, and cafés; listens to their endlessly creative musings on food; and reports on their favorite dishes. In the chapter titled “Course I: Why Do Musicians Love to Talk Shop in the Kitchen?” Braus writes: “Preparation, cooking, serving and digestion are to food as inspiration, composition, performance and reception are to music” (17). He gives the example of Scriabin, who described Rachmaninoff’s music as “boiled ham.” Rossini sees the stomach as “the conductor who rules the grand orchestra of our passions and rouses it to action” (14). Beethoven counts 60 coffee beans per cup. Schubert, after flinging his coffee mill, claims that “a coffee-mill is a wonderful thing. Melodies and themes just come flying in.” With so much pollination across food and music, one gets the distinct impression that Beethoven’s symphonies could not have come into being without the hefty portions of macaroni and cheese that the composer favored. And Wagner, in the throes of composing Tristan und Isolde, miraculously was saved by a mere zwieback:

The zwieback did help; they suddenly jerked me out of a bad patch where I had been stuck for a week, unable to go further. . . . I was stuck at the transition from ‘vor Sehnsucht nicht zu sterben [‘to die not of longing’] to Tristan’s voyage. . . . [W]hen I took the sweet zwieback . . . and dipped it in milk, everything suddenly fell into place. And so I threw aside the revision and went back to composing, on the story of the woman physician from far away [Isolde]. And now I am delighted; the transition is unbelievably successful, with a quite wonderful combination of two themes. Heavens! how much can be achieved by the right sort of zwieback! Zwieback! Zwieback! Thou art the proper remedy for composers when they get stuck. (62–63)

In “The Well-Tempered Cuisinier: Twenty-four Pastries and Foods from the Classical Cooks,” Braus, who teaches at the Hartt School in Connecticut, offers up menus and recipes culled from the composers’ own writings. The result is an amusing set of concoctions guaranteed to tickle the taste buds and stimulate the ear. –Dalia Geffen

Ira Braus, a member of the Boston Wagner Society, teaches at the Hartt School in Connecticut. In November 2005 he gave a talk titled “With Shuddering Delight: Brahms’s Tristan Syndrome,” with musical examples sung by D’Anna Fortunato. In June 2007 there will be a talk, book signing, and sampling of some of the foods mentioned in Classical Cooks. See “Upcoming Events” on page 12.

9

“ Sings Richard Wagner”

Wesendonck Lieder and ; Limburg Symphony Orchestra, , ; cond. / Hybrid multichannel / Super Audio CD; time: 59:23; PentaTone Classics 5186 077; ***

his recital by the Dutch soprano Charlotte Margiono is a hybrid in more ways than one. Technically, of course, it plays in both T surround sound and Super Audio; but more than that, it has been put together in no chronological order, and, inexplicably, the two Lohengrin excerpts are far apart (the prelude to Act 1 is in track 1, and Elsa’s dream in track 7). There is some compensation for this disorder in that the prelude to Act 1 of Tristan und Isolde is followed seamlessly, and very effectively, by the “Liebestod,” as if they were all of a piece. Technical issues aside, Wagner aficionados will delight in the superb sound of the CD and the shimmery of Ed Spanjaard. The Lohengrin prelude, for example, is played with great sensitivity and lyricism, and the soaring music of the woodwinds near the end is filled with both melancholy and nobility. When Margiono starts her recital with the (orchestration by ), one is immediately struck by her large, supple voice and pure tone. Her honeyed notes are filled with devotion, and unlike some singers in the much-lamented 1980s and 1990s, she seems more concerned with the music’s innerlich quality than with correct technique. In addition, she has a good sense of tempi and dramatic action. Her “Schmerzen” is full-bodied, with much color and variety in texture and . There are some small intonation problems, however, and with a little more attention to details, this soprano should be a first-rate singer. In the “Liebestod,” surely a severe test for any Wagnerian soprano, Margiono treads too lightly, as though she is still singing the more ethereal Elsa. Spanjaard, too, holds back, with muted results. Margiono’s voice is somewhat amorphous here and needs more definition. A bit of reining it in here and there, tightening loose corners, and losing some slight inaccuracies would improve matters. The orchestra, however, supports the soprano well. Elisabeth’s prayer is sung with great tenderness and lyricism, leading one to conclude that Margiono seems more at home with the innocent, virginal heroines like Elsa and Elisabeth than with the passionate Isolde or Sieglinde. This affecting performance augurs well for the young soprano. The CD comes with the German libretti and their English translations. –Dalia Geffen

Survey Results

Here are the favorite recordings that respondents cited (by conductor).

CDs

Der fliegende Holländer Klemperer, Knappertsbusch, Nelsson, Solti Lohengrin Heger, Kempe Tannhäuser Bodansky, Sinopoli, Solti Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg Knappertsbusch, Karajan, Kubelik, Solti Tristan und Isolde Böhm, Furtwängler, Karajan

10 Parsifal Knappertsbusch (1962), Karajan, Thielemann, Solti Complete Ring Furtwängler ( and Scala), Solti Krauss, Furtwängler (Rome and Scala), Keilberth, Levine

Die Walküre Furtwängler (Rome and Scala), Leinsdorf (LSO), Böhm, Keilberth

Siegfried Bodansky, Furtwängler (Rome), Keilberth, Solti Götterdämmerung Bodansky, Furtwängler (Rome), Solti

DVDs or Videotapes

Der fliegende Holländer No favorites listed

Tannhäuser No favorites listed Lohengrin Levine Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg Levine Tristan und Isolde Böhm, Levine Parsifal No favorites listed Complete Ring Levine Das Rheingold Levine Die Walküre Boulez, Barenboim Siegfried Levine Götterdämmerung Boulez, Levine

Suggestions

“Sound quality aside, I find the historic recordings more involving. Wagnermania (dumb name, but a good 20-CD set) can be found cheap on-line, with many fine historic performances.” –Karl Wee

“At Bayreuth last year, I purchased an excellent CD that I would highly recommend to interested members. It is Wagner’s Ring Motifs: An Audio Guide. It was released just last year. On two discs, it provides a complete narration by [bass-baritone] John Tomlinson and 92 minutes of music. The excerpts are from the Hans Swarovski / Czech Philharmonic recordings. . . . There is both a German and an English edition. It is so good to listen to it as an abridged Ring. . . . I have not seen it in any store here, but it can be ordered or downloaded at www.auricula.de .” –Miguel de Bragança

Historical Singers: (1901–1975)

ax Lorenz was one of the finest exponents of the Heldentenor during the period when Germany was undergoing the transition from a country with severe economic and social M problems to submission to a megalomaniacal leader with dreams of world domination. Those were trying times for a young man with his own dreams—that of becoming a famous opera singer. Lorenz’s father was a butcher and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. The family name was Suelzenfuss, which means “pork foot.” How apt for someone in that line of work! Lorenz changed his name at the first opportunity. 11 Despite the protestations of his father (and without his knowledge at first), Lorenz studied singing, first with Professor Pauli in Cologne, and later with Professor Grenzebach in Berlin. Lauritz Melchior and also studied with Herr Grenzebach, and young Lorenz would spend all day with his teacher, listening to every word he spoke and every sound that came from the other students, using them to improve his own status as a singer. At 25 Max entered a vocal contest and was offered a contract with the Dresden State Opera. His father’s resistance finally evaporated, and his obvious pride in his son’s accomplishment pleased Lorenz very much. His first principal role in Dresden was as Menelas in the premiere of Strauss’s Die ägyptische Helena, a daunting assignment to be sure. That was followed by Verdi, Puccini, and Wagner, all in leading roles. In 1931 he crossed the Atlantic, and in New York sang with the Metropolitan Opera. Although some critics found his voice not to their liking, he expressed great affection for America, and especially loved meeting his Metropolitan colleagues and hearing what he called “the greatest voices in the world.” He sang in Milan, Florence, London, , , and, in 1933, Bayreuth. From 1933 to 1944 he appeared there every summer, singing everything from Lohengrin to Parsifal. The Austrian Marcel Prawy claimed at the time that Lorenz was “a prominent homosexual.” It was said that he married only to hide his orientation. In 1936, when further appearances at Bayreuth seemed in jeopardy, , granddaughter of Richard and Cosima, stepped in, and with the approval of Adolf Hitler, allowed him to continue. In fact, several writers have insisted that he was Hitler's “favorite” and “the Third Reich’s star tenor.” After the war, he continued to sing with major companies. He was a Vienna regular until the arrival of . He sang Tristan to ’s Isolde and Tannhäuser to Renata Tebaldi’s Elisabeth. In later years, he sang roles in operetta and musicals, including Buffalo Bill in Irving Berlin's Annie Get Your Gun . After his farewell appearance in Vienna in 1962 as Herodes in Strauss’s , he was appointed to a professorship at the Salzburg Mozarteum. He died on January 12, 1975. –Angelo Mammano

Upcoming Events

“: The Swedish “Ludwig Feuerbach's Influence on Classical Cooks: A Gastrohistory of Soprano Who Tamed Wagner” the of Richard Wagner's Western Music, by Ira Braus Presentation by Erika Reitshamer, Parsifal” Talk, book signing, and food with many audiovisual illustrations Talk by independent scholar Paul sampling Saturday, April 21, 2007, 12:45 p.m. Heise, with audiovisual illustrations Saturday, June 23, 2007, 3 p.m. West End Branch, Boston Public Wednesday, May 30, 2007, 7 p.m. 245 Maple Street Library Wellesley Free Library West Roxbury, MA 02132 151 Cambridge Street 530 Washington Street Boston, MA 02114 Wellesley, MA 02482 RSVP only Free Free

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