"Made wise through empathy, the pure fool" -- is Parsifal even more, er, "innocent" than Siegfried?

"Seeking his wife he flew up --
to circle with him over the lake
and gloriously to hallow them both."
-- Gurnemanz, deep into Scene 1 of Act I of Parsifal

[We hear first Donald McIntyre, with Reginald Goodall conducting (in 1984), then Hans Hotter, with Hans Knappertsbusch (in 1962). We'll be hearing a bit more of these performances later in the post. Sorry the second clip is so conspicuously louder; I don't know how to adjust that.]

__          __          __          __          __

GURNEMANZ: A blessed radiance emanated from the Grail;
a holy vision clearly spoke to him [i.e., Amfortas]
this message in words of fire:
"Made wise through empathy, the pure fool;
await him, the one I have chosen."
ESQUIRES: "Made wise through empathy, the pure fool --"

Ludwig Weber (bs), Gurnemanz; Elisabeth Rutgers (s), Sieglinde Wagner (ms), Erich Majkut (t), and Hermann Gallos (t), Esquires; Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Rudolf Moralt, cond. Myto, live concert performance, [Oct. 1?] 1948

Franz Crass (bs), Gurnemanz; Elisabeth Schwarzenberg (s), Sieglinde Wagner (ms), R. A.  Hartmann-Griffke (t), and Heinz Zednik (t), Esquires; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Eugen Jochum, cond. Live performance, July 24, 1971

Kurt Moll (bs), Gurnemanz; Regina Marheineke (s), Claudia Hellmann (ms), Helmut Holzapfel (t), and Karl-Heinz Eichler (t), Esquires; Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Rafael Kubelik, cond. Recorded for broadcast, May 1980

Kurt Moll (bs), Gurnemanz; Heidi Grant Murphy (s), Jane Bunnell (ms), Paul Groves (t), and Anthony Laciura (t), Esquires; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, James Levine, cond. DG, recorded 1991-92

Cesare Siepi (bs), Gurnemanz; Loretta Di Franco (s), Ivanka Myhal (ms), Leo Goeke (t), and Robert Schmorr (t), Esquires; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Leopold Ludwig, cond. Live performance, Apr. 3, 1971

by Ken

We'll come back to the very first morsel we heard above, regarding the murdered swan's flight. The bit we just heard immediately above precedes the chunk we heard last week in the second of our pair of post "teases" ("Two case studies in ignorance -- Siegfried and Parsifal" and "Tease 2: Case studies in ignorance -- Siegfried and Parsifal (continued)," from the later stage of the first scene of Act I of Parisal but as part of a larger chunk of this scene from the later stages of the first of the two scenes of Act I of Parsifal. For all the difficulty I've had figuring out how to proceed from those teases, not to mention the amount of menial labor that will go into executing the provisional new roadmap, there was never any question that one thing we would need to do is to backup into this earlier part of the scene, and shortly we're going to hear a fuller context for these crucial lines.

I also realized that I needed to make clearer that labeling Siegfried and Parsifal as "ignorant" isn't meant as any kind of judgment but merely as a statement of fact -- both of our heroes have come to strapping young-manhood without any significant opportunity to learn the basics of life most of us take for granted, learning them as we do from a combination of normal socialization and instruction.


BEFORE WE PROCEED, LET'S HEAR A LITTLE MUSIC
TO HELP GET US INTO A "PARSIFAL FRAME OF MIND"

On this initial pass at this post, the most we'll be able to do is set out the bare bones, to be filled in tonight and tomorrow with more performances, better context, and more comment. And I do think it'll help if we use the pairing of the Prelude to Act I and the "Good Friday Spell" from Act III to orient ears and brains to the Parsifal sound world. The Jochum recording we've heard before; I don't believe we've heard the Bruno Walter one.

Parsifal: Prelude (Act I) and "Good Friday Spell" (Act III)


Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Eugen Jochum, cond. DG, recorded December 1957

Columbia Symphony Orchestra, Bruno Walter, cond. Columbia-CBS-Sony, recorded Feb. 25, 1959


ANOTHER THING I DIDN'T DO LAST WEEK . . .

Father's Day special -- Wagner's Daland usually knows better than to trust in the wind

DALAND: [coming down from the cliff]:
No doubt! Seven miles away
the storm has driven us from safe port.
So near our goal after a long voyage,
this trick was saved up for me!
STEERSMAN [on board, shouting through cupped hands]:
Ho! Captain!
DALAND: On board with you -- how goes it?
STEERSMAN [as before]: Good, captain!
We have firm grounding.
DALAND: It's Sandwike! I know the bay well.
[0:53] Damn! I already saw my house on the shore.
Senta, my child, I imagined myself already embracing.
Then came this blast from the depths of hell.
Who trusts in wind trusts in Satan's mercy.
Who trusts in wind trusts in Satan's mercy,
trusts in Satan's mercy.
[He goes on board the ship.]
There's no help for it! Patience! The storm is abating;
so fierce a storm couldn't last long.
[On board] Hey, lads! Your watch was long --
to rest then! I'm not concerned anymore.
[The sailors go below deck on the ship.]
Now, steersman, will you take the watch for me?
There's no danger, but it's good if you keep watch.
STEERSMAN: Be without worry! Sleep peacefully, captain!
[DALAND goes into his cabin. The STEERSMAN is alone on deck. The storm has abated somewhat and returns only at sporadic intervals. The waves are still rough on the open sea. The STEERSMAN makes his round once more, then sits down near the rudder. He yawns, then rouses himself as sleep comes over him.]

Karl Ridderbusch (bs), Daland; Harald Ek (t), Steersman; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Karl Böhm, cond. DG, recorded live, 1971

by Ken

In Friday night's preview we met the Norwegian sea captain Daland in happy homecoming mode, in Act II of The Flying Dutchman -- not just happy to be returning to his home and his beloved daugher Senta from an unusually perilous voyage with life and limbs intact, but returning in the company of a stranger, met under extraordinary circumstances, who is the best son-in-law material fate could have sent his way.

Now we're returning, not quite to Act I curtain rise (we'll get there in a moment), but to the brush with death, for him and his crew, that Daland has just survived thanks to a combination of luck and his own nautical skill. With his ship becalmed but safe just off the coast, not far from home, he berates himself for having, incredibly foolishly, let slip his guard against the vagaries of fate. The section we're especially concerned with here is the highlighted one, where for the first time he indulges in sustained singing, when he recalls that literally within sight of home, already imagining himself there, with Senta in his arms, he was beset by a violent storm outburst that caught him almost tragically unprepared.

This extraordinary little set piece he sings is at once one of the most vivid examples I know of the way music, and in particular vocal music, can be used to create character and dramatic urgency and one of the most challenging but potentially rewarding pieces of vocal writing I know. And I've never heard anyone do it fuller justice than Karl Ridderbusch in this live performance from the 1971 Bayreuth Festival.

He sings high, he sings low; he sings with unmatched power and unrivaled delicacy; he attacks every pitch dead-on while binding phrases with ravishing tone and dramatic sweep. Above all he really does sing every note, filling out each syllable with the ravishing sound of a great bass voice under complete, sculpting phrases with seemingly effortless control.

To be perhaps a little clearer, I though we'd listen to this amazing scene chunk again, in an assortment of performances that I consider admirable in many respects (much better than the average one encounters; it would be too easy to make the case with that sort of performance), and then listen to Ridderbusch's again.

WAGNER: The Flying Dutchman: Act I, Daland, "Kein Zweifel! Sieben Meilen fort" ("No doubt! Seven miles away")