Soon to be a post of some sort (or maybe not), for anyone in need of some bucking up (courtesy of the master bucker-up, W. A. Mozart)

FRIDAY UPDATE: Now doubled in size!
(See "BACK TO THE BEGINNING" addition below)

Gerhard Unger as David in Die Meistersinger at Bayreuth, 1951

MOZART: Die Entführung aus dem Serail (The Abduction from the Seraglio), K. 384:
Act II, Aria (Pedrillo), "Frisch zum Kampfe" ("Brightly into battle")



Gerhard Unger (t), Pedrillo; Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Sir Thomas Beecham, cond. EMI, recorded in Kingsway Hall, May 9-25, 1956

Gerhard Unger (t), Pedrillo; Vienna Philharmonic, Josef Krips, cond. EMI, recorded in the Theater an der Wien, February 1966

Murray Dickie (t), Pedrillo; Vienna Philharmonic, George Szell, cond. Live performance from the Salzburg Festival, July 25, 1956

Michel Sénéchal (t), Pedrillo; Paris Conservatory Orchetra, Hans Rosbaud, cond. Live performance from the Aix-en-Provence Festival, July 11, 1954

Robert Gambill (t), Pedrillo; Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Bruno Weil, cond. Sony, recorded in the Sofiensaal, Apr. 2-10, 1991

Plácido Domingo, tenor; Munich Radio Orchestra, Eugene Kohn, cond. EMI, recorded in Bavarian Radio Studio 1, January 1991

by Ken

While I continue to struggle -- or maybe not so much "struggle" as "be paralyzed by" -- writing about things that oughtn't to be that difficult, more of a struggle than with some other things I expected would be hard, I thought I could use some bucking up. Which for me means channeling the master bucker-up, in particular a number that would do the job for me if music could really do this job: Pedrillo's Act II aria, in which he does his best to buck himself up -- to give himself courage he's probably pretty sure he doesn't have. With [UPDATE! now --] two exceptions, we've heard the performances arrayed above before. I don't see why we shouldn't hear them again, though.

Plot-function-wise Pedrillo, the second tenor of Die Entführung aus dem Serail, is a comic foil to the romantic lead, Belmonte. Still, it can be a swell role, with a string of great ensemble and also solo opportunities. It's written for what's usually called a Spieltenor, a "play" or comic tenor, of which perhaps the most distinguished recorded specimen we have is Gerhard Unger (1916-2011), who sang, and I mean really sang, these roles for so long with such distinction. And he needed all his vocal resources for Pedrillo's bravura aria, which takes him high up and drops him way down -- notably in all the settings of that line that so haunts Pedrillo, "Nur ein feiger Tropf verzagt" ("Only a cowardly rascal loses heart"). With regard to the "Frisch zum Kampfe" with Beecham, I have to say, doesn't Sir Thomas create a whoppingly grand -- I think we might say utterly battle-worthy -- framework?

[UPDATE -- re, our 2nd "new" clip (for the 1st, see below):
[I've been so enjoying rehearing the Unger-Beecham "Frisch zum Kampfe," which is admittedly a particular type of performance, that I thought we should really hear as well Gerhard U's decade-later rerecording with that sterling Mozartean Josef Krips, whose two recordings of Abduction seem somehow not to have come off the way I would hope. But the "Frisch zum Kampfe" comes off quite dashingly, in a deliciously trying-my-oh-so-darnedest-to-be-brave way. Interestingly, at 49 our tenor sounds a bit freer in Mozart's far-from-kind upper-range challenges than he did in 1956; perhaps Sir Thomas's grand tempo stretched him more? -- Ed.]

You know other roles that typically fall into this category: Monostatos in The Magic Flute, Don Basilio in The Marriage of Figaro, Jaquino in Fidelio, the Steersman in The Flying Dutchman, Mime in Das Rheingold and Siegfried, Valzacchi in Der Rosenkavalier, the Dance Master and Brighella in Ariadne auf Naxos. As I've probably mentioned more than once, in this line I have a special fondness for the Scottish tenor Murray Dickie, whom we see hear as Brighella in Aridane auf Naxos. In my first live Wagner opera, a Met Meistersinger, he made a lasting impression as a confident, energetic David. (The Walther von Stolzing was Karl Liebl, and if that tenor pairing could be somehow resurrected or re-created, I'd sign right up.) Longtime readers may remember my unmitigated delight in Dickie's Dance Master (and also Brighella, a doubling you can do in the recording studio), opposite the equally wonderful Music Master of Walter Berry, in the Rysanek-Peerce-Leinsdorf Ariadne (RCA, later Decca).

Then, while we're Spieltenor-ing, when I noticed that I've got an Entführung to do it with, I thought I'd throw in a sometimes off-the-wall but often genuinely charming French version of the species, Michel Sénéchal. That's our [first! -- Ed.] "new" performance. I think it's fair to say that among them the singer, conductor, and stage director have a considerably different idea from, say, Sir Thomas B of how Pedrillo psychs himself for battle. Well, why not? There's certainly no lack of urgency to the situation.

I would have unhesitatingly put our next Pedrillo, Indiana-born Robert Gambill, in the same vocal category, judging by his records (I don't think I ever heard him live), and a sweetly lyrical specimen at that, except that a few years after recording Pedrillo, he somehow reinvented himself in Europe as a Heldentenor, singing -- yup! -- the likes of Tannhäuser, Tristan, Siegmund, and Parsifal. I don't recall ever hearing any samples of how this went, and for all I know RG had found his true calling. I guess the leap from Pedrillo to Siegmund kind of freaks me out.

There's no question, I think, that our final singer wasn't destined by nature to be a Pedrillo, and the one thing I remember properly from the ancient "Frisch zum Kampfe" post was that it was a late realization on my part that I had this recording -- on a CD of Mozart arias by this distinguished tenor -- and the Domingo version was added as a sort of stop-the-presses extra. I don't know whether even early in his career Plácido Domingo was asked to sing Pedrillo, but you'll notice that the aria really does call on all his vocal resources. I love having this performance, which kind of brings us back to the Unger-Beecham one, except that I think they were having more fun with it.


BACK TO THE BEGINNING

It occurs to me that this might be a good time to revive an old tradition here at Sunday Classics: taking an aural peek at the way a piece we're engaged with begins. Which we can do easily enough in the case of Mozart's Entführung aus dem Serail by plucking goodies out of the Archive. And it's hard to overstate just how important "the case of Mozart's Entführung aus dem Serail" is.

Oh, it's important in its own right, as a darned fine comic opera that has been entertaining audiences for more than two centuries. I'd go so far as to argue that it is, even with its problems (having to do more than anything with its being too much -- a composer desperate to prove his worth to the world as an operatic composer, and not knowing when to stop, not knowing his own strength.

But it's also important as the crucial development stage in one of the supreme operatic-creation careers, setting the stage for the almost-beyond-human-imagining succession of supreme masterpieces: the three operas created with librettist Lorenzo da Ponte (The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, and Così fan tutte) and The Magic Flute. This is where Mozart seems to have figured out who he was as an operatic composer: an intimate and deeply sympathetic observer of the trials and tribulations of his fellow humans. (If you're shocked that I've forgotten to mention either Idomeneo or La Clemenza di Tito, I haven't forgotten.)

Now, let's say we just want to hear how exactly the opera begins. That's easy enough -- it has a prime Mozart overture, though of "compact" mode. (Think more Marriage of Figaro than Don Giovanni.)

The Abduction from the Seraglio: Overture


Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Colin Davis, cond. EMI, recorded c1961

Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Neville Marriner, cond. EMI, recorded c1981

However, as you likely know, we've just cheated: This isn't absolutely the Entführung Overture as Mozart composed it; these performances use a tacked-on a concert ending in place of the Entführung Overture's proper ending, which is to say no ending, as Mozart performs a super-neat trick. The little overture appears to be in rough A-B-A form: a brisk opening section evocative of (but not quoting) the opera's "Turkish" music; a meltingly lovely central section quoting Belmonte's aria "Hier soll ich dich denn sehen"; and a repeat of the opening section, all with some development. The "end" of the repeat of A, however, segues directly into a repeat of B, except that this is Belmonte's aria! (Later, we'll recall, Mozart would run the mightiest of his operatic overtures, the one for Don Giovanni, directly into Leporello's curtain-rise aria. For the Don Giovanni Overture Mozart himself tacked on an ending for concert use.(

The Abduction from the Seraglio: Overture and Act I, Aria (Belmonte), "Hier soll ich dich den sehen"

Really, we could stop with just this performance:

Fritz Wunderlich (t), Belmonte; Bavarian State Orchestra, Eugen Jochum, cond. DG, recorded in the Bürgerbrau-Keller, Munich, December 1965

But here's another one worth hearing:

Kurt Streit (t), Belmonte; Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Bruno Weil, cond. Sony, recorded in the Sofiensaal, Apr. 2-10, 1991

And here are three diverse ones by one singer
(we especiallly want to hear the young N.G.):

[aria at 4:20] Nicolai Gedda (t), Belmonte; Paris Conservatory Orchestra, Hans Rosbaud, cond. Live performance from the Aix-en-Provence Festival, July 11, 1954

[aria at 4:35] Nicolai Gedda (t), Belmonte; Vienna Philharmonic, Josef Krips, cond. EMI, recorded in the Theater an der Wien, February 1966

[in English, aria at 4:10] Nicolai Gedda (t), Belmonte; Bath Festival Orchestra, Yehudi Menuhin, cond. EMI (now Chandos), recorded in Abbey Road Studio No. 1, London, Oct. 6-15 and Dec. 22, 1967

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