Post tease: Two case studies in ignorance -- Siegfried and Parsifal

Siegfried meets Fafner: Oh joy, Fafner's turned into a murderous dragon!

by Ken

One issue that's extensively tested in Wagner's Ring cycle, and that has been quietly bedeviling us in our enquiries, is whether we really know how to deal with innocence: recognizing it, understanding it, coping with it. I thought that at this point, as we're meeting Siegfried at perhaps his most exposed, we needed at least to drag it out into the open -- as it were, outside the opening to the cave where the giant Fafner, since murdering his brother Fasolt at the end of Das Rheingold and taking sole possession of the Nibelung hoard, including the all-power-conferring Ring and the Tarnhelm that enables the wearer to transform into any form desired, has Tarnhelmed into a murderous dragon and taken up solitary (he hopes) residence in a remote deep-forest cave, where he mostly sleeps on top of the hoard, guarding it against any would-be hoard-snatchers.

We're in Act II of Siegfried, earlier in the act than we were last week ("Not just a tease for next week's post: A little birdie told him"), when we heard Siegfried actually hearing and understanding tidings shared by a newsy Woodbird. Those mutually antagonistic lordlings Alberich and Wotan have just met for the first time since the final scene of Das Rheingold, when Wotan stole the Nibelung hoard from Alberich (who is of course "the Nibelung" of The Ring of the Nibelung) and Alberich, powerless to do anything else, placed a curse on the Ring -- as if that order of wealth didn't come with its own built-in curse. Or maybe Alberich was aiming his curse at some kind of certainty of enforcement of the curse implied by acquisition of all that treasure?


IT'S BEEN OCCURRING TO ME THAT THE THEME
OF SIEGFRIED'S HOPELESS IGNORANCE . . .

On the pleasures of getting lostin Götterdämmerung: revisiting the path to here, Part 2

SUNDAY 8:30pm UPDATE: After the earlier fillings-in, mostly around the Götterdämmerung and Walküre selections, I've added some Siegfried performance notes, and barring some likely (hoped for?) post cleanup, that should be about it!

OH WAIT! The missing "Norn Scene" audio clip is found -- and is now in place below! It's from the Met, March 1974: the beautiful (and beautifully cast) Götterdämmerung broadcast conducted by Rafael Kubelik during his sadly brief time as music director.

Brünnhilde (Deborah Voigt) has been awakened by Siegfried
(Jay Hunter Morris), at the Met, 2013. [photo by Ken Howard]

After being kissed by SIEGFRIED, BRÜNNHILDE opens her eyes. SIEGFRIED stands up and stands before her. BRÜNNHILDE slowly rises to a sitting position. She raises her arms in solemn gestures, greeting the heaven and earth that now she sees again.

BRÜNNHILDE: Hail to you, sun! Hail to you, light!
Hail to you, radiant day!
My sleep was long; I am awakened.
Who is the hero who awoke me?
SIEGFRIED [deeply moved by her look and her voice, stands as if rooted to the spot]:
Through the fire I struggled, which blazes around the rock;
I broke you out of your tight helmet;
I am Siegfried, who awakens you.
BRÜNNHILDE [sitting straight up]: Hail to you, gods!
Hail to you, world!
Hail to you, shining earth!
My sleep is at an end.
I am awakened: it is Siegfried who awakens me!
SIEGFRIED [breaks out in ecstasy]:
I bless my mother, giving me birth!
bless the earth that gave me my strength!
Now I behold those eyes,
bright stars which laugh on my joy!
BRÜNNHILDE [overlapping, in impassioned accents]:
I bless your mother, giving you birth!
bless the earth, that gave you your strength.
Your eyes alone could behold me,
my heart to you alone wakes!
[Each remains in radiant, rapt contemplation of the other.]

Deborah Voigt (s), Brünnhilde; Plácido Domingo (t), Siegfried; Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Antonio Pappano, cond. EMI, from a Voigt-Domingo Wagner CD recorded January 2000

[kind of scrunched to fit the 78 side] Frida Leider (s), Brünnhilde; Rudolf Laubenthal (t), Siegfried; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Leo Blech, cond. EMI, recorded Aug. 27, 1927

Kirsten Flagstad (s), Brünnhilde; Lauritz Melchior (t), Siegfried; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Artur Bodanzky, cond. Live performance, Jan. 30, 1937

Helen Traubel (s), Brünnhilde; Set Svanholm (t), Siegfried; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Fritz Stiedry, cond. Live performance, Feb. 10, 1951

Birgit Nilsson (s), Brünnhilde; Wolfgang Windgassen (t), Siegfried; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Karl Böhm, cond. Philips, recorded live, July 1966

by Ken

For a post that flaunts Götterdämmerung in the title -- and doesn't it seem to go on for inches and inches? -- we're going to be hearing precious little of it today. There will be a little, though, coming up in just a moment, as we revisit, in somewhat expanded form, the first two of the three iterations of what we're calling "the 'Awakening' music," from the "Second Day" (Siegfried) and "Third Day" (Götterdämmerung) of Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung.

So no, there won't be any trace this week of the third iteration, which comes so, um, dramatically in the next-to-last scene of Götterdämmerung. We've still got too much ground to cover before we might logically come to it. Nevertheless, even though it wasn't part of my original plan, I'm thinking that maybe we do want to get there at some point, but for sure not this week, or likely even next.

My thinking for this week is that, considering that last week ("On the pleasures of getting lost in Götterdämmerung: revisiting the path to here, Part 1") we were poking around the actual awakening of Brünnhilde, in Scene 3 of Act III of Siegfried, why not start with the awakening itself? And as long as we're awakening her, why not revisit the great succession of Brünnhildes, from Frida Leider to Kirsten Flagstad to Helen Traubel (maybe not unequivocally part of this line of succession, but so close, I think, to rating a place in this line of succession) to Birgit Nilsson?

By the way we're not done with this scene, which is on today's itinerary. But before we come back to it, I thought we might have another reminder of the point we're aiming to get back to, which is the second of the three "Awakening" iterations, in such strikingly altered musical form. Trust Wagner to begin the vastest of his operatic creations in such seemingly understated, and yet such richly detailed, form. And so, without further ado --

WE'RE BACK AT THE START OF GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG, AND NOW (AS PROMISED) WE'RE GOING JUST A BIT DEEPER IN

On the pleasures of getting lostin Götterdämmerung: revisiting the path to here, Part 1

Siegfried tries to awaken Brünnhilde

[As SIEGFRIED approaches the sleeper again, he is again filled with tender emotion at the sight of her. He bends over her.]
Sweet and quivering, her lovely mouth.
A gentle gladness charms fear from my heart!
Ah! how enchanting her warm, fragrant breath!
[As if in despair] Awaken! Awaken! Holiest maid!

-- from Siegfried, Act III, Scene 3 (singing translation by
Andrew Porter, used in the Remedios-Goodall performance)

[in English] Alberto Remedios (t), Siegfried; Sadler's Wells Opera Orchestra, Reginald Goodall, cond. EMI-Chandos, recorded live, August 1973

Lauritz Melchior (t), Siegfried; Berlin State Opera Orchestra, Robert Heger, cond. EMI, recorded May 12, 1930

Lauritz Melchior (t), Siegfried; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Artur Bodanzky, cond. Live performance, Jan. 30, 1937

Günther Treptow (t), Siegfried; Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Rudolf Moralt, cond. Myto, live recording of a 1949 concert performance of the act

Set Svanholm (t), Siegfried; Orchestra of the Teatro alla Scala, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. Live performance, Mar. 23, 1950

Wolfgang Windgassen (t), Siegfried; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Karl Böhm, cond. Philips, recorded live, July 1966

Siegfried Jerusalem (t), Siegfried; Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Daniel Barenboim, cond. Teldec, recorded live, June-July 1992

[Note: We'll be hearing a fuller version of this scene in Part 2 of this post, when we'll talk a little about the performances. Meanwhile, I hope you're storing up your impressions of them! -- Ed.]

by Ken

As I explained in last week's still-unfollowed-up-on "post taste," "This is where we'd really like to start this week, but --," our inquiry into that starkly mysterious and foreboding character Hagen has led us back to the start of Götterdämmerung. Because what precedes in Wagner's Ring cycle is such a vast expanse of meticulously detailed music drama, it can be easy to forget how massive its final leg is in its own right -- at least until we're buckled in for the nearly two-hour expanse of Götterdämmerung's Prologue and Act I.

Götterdämmerung: Prologue: Orchestral prelude


Bavarian State Orchestra, Wolfgang Sawallisch, cond. EMI, recorded live at the Bavarian State Opera, November 1989

This two-minute prelude is the low-keyed and nevertheless magisterial opening of Götterdämmerung, aka Twilight of the Gods, the "Third Day" of The Ring of the Nibelung -- or by normal counting standards the fourth opera, since Wagner counted Das Rheingold, a massive expanse in its own right (running an uninterrupted two and a half to two and three-quarters hours), strictly as a prologue to the three "days" that follow.

What I'm trying to give a feel for is the way Wagner's unique operatic method enables him to create such finely detailed moments -- and there are no moments in the entire expanse of The Ring (let's call it roughly 14-15 hours; even among the handful of recorded Rings I spot-checked there were outliers: Böhm-Bayreuth 1966-67 at the quick end, at 13:39, and Goodall-English National Opera,1973-77, at the gradual end, at 16:03) that aren't finely detailed -- that are nevertheless bound musicodramatically to countless other moments in that vast expanse. In a bit we're going to hear the little Götterdämmerung orchestral prelude again and this time continue on a bit in the Prologue, taking in just a little of the chillingly awesome Norn Scene.

For now, though, let's just note that the music out of which this two-minute orchestral intro is fashioned is what I'm going to call "the 'Awakening' music," the music to which we witness Brünnhilde awakening from her long sleep in the final act of Siegfried, the "Second Day" of The Ring.


AS YOU'VE PROBABLY GATHERED, ONE OF OUR DESTINATIONS
TODAY IS THE "AWAKENING" ITSELF, BUT NOT BEFORE . . .

John Macurdy (1929-2020): as Verdi's King of Egypt and Grand Inquisitor, Wagner's Fafner (x2), and Mozart's Commendatore

LATE, LATE THURSDAY UPDATE: Zounds, I think we've got the whole thing in place (though without an even minimally respectable proofreading, and I expected to have more things to say along the way, but I'm afraid this may have to be good enough).
WELL, ONE MORE THING (from the wee hours of Friday): Just when I thought we were done, it occurred to me that the order had to be switched, moving the Don Giovanni excerpts, until then sandwiched between the Verdis and the Wagners, to the end. By happy coincidence this put the five performances we're sampling to represent John Macurdy's career in chronological order. What really happened, though, is that once the Don Giovanni texts were finally in place, it suddenly became obvious that we had to finish with Don Giovanni.



OK, this isn't the king we want -- it's King Heinrich of Brabant (Lohengrin) rather than the King of Egypt (Aida) -- but a king's a king, right? And a sturdy all-purpose bass like the late John Macurdy is gonna sing a bunch of kings, not to mention priests, and of course papas -- and the odd inquisitor. Photo by Louis Mélançon/Metropolitan Opera

From the Triumphal Scene (Act II, Scene 2) of Verdi's Aida


John Macurdy (bs), King of Egypt; Carlo Bergonzi (t), Radamès; Metropolitan Opera Chorus and Orchestra, Georg Solti, cond. Broadcast performance, Dec. 7, 1963

[NOTE: Yeah, the Italian original of the King's first line should be italicized, but by the time I noticed this, fixing it would have required retyping the whole danged thing. -- Ed.]

by Ken

In the prepost to this remembrance of John Macurdy, I said we'd be hearing this 38-year Met mainstay in three characteristic roles, but in the event it'll be four or possibly five: two Verdis (the King of Egypt and the Grand Inquisitor), one Mozart (the Commendatore), and either one or two Wagners, depending on how we count the Rheingold and Siegfried Fafners.

It's seems only right that we begin with the King of Egypt. I think it was the first role I heard him in, and I'm pretty sure the first I saw him in, not long after he joined the Met. For the decades following he and Paul Plishka, whose Met career overlapped his , were pleasant constants in my early decades of Met experience.

It's interesting, though, to go back and hear just how fine a sound Macurdy made back then as the King, both above and in this additional Aida clip.

The King prepares the Egyptians for war

Sunday Classics inquiry: How can Mime solve his problem?

WAGNER: Siegfried: Act I Prelude



Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond. Decca, May and Oct. 1962

Bayreuth Festival Orchestra, Daniel Barenboim, cond. Teldec, recorded live, June-July 1992

Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded Dec. 1968 and Feb. 1969

Sadler's Wells Opera Orchestra, Reginald Goodall, cond. EMI-Chandos, recorded live, August 1973

by Ken

I would have liked, but couldn't find, a nice image of a darkened theater to accompany these miraculous opening pages of Siegfried, the third installment in Wagner's cycle The Ring of the Nibelung, mostly occupied with music associated with the dwarflike Nibelungs, plunging us into the crisis faced by the Nibelung we will re-meet when the curtain rises, Mime (that's two syllables: MEE-muh), the brother of "the" Nibelung, Alberich, the Nibelung of the title.

This is such amazing,music, starting with that weird trio for two bassoons and bass tuba over hushed timpani, punctuated by those stabbing fluorishes first from the cellos, then from the violas. It's music that's murky, growly, mysterious, music that seems to me to demand a heightening of all the senses -- and above all of the imagination, for both performers and listeners. From the performers' standpoint, this is where your musicianship and musicianly instincts are tested, or rather exploited.

You'd have to be a real dunderhead to miss the potent brew of expectation and dread trembling to life here. As it happens, I heard just such a dunderheaded performance; that's one of two recent encounters that I want to tell you a little about, encounters that landed us here at the start of Siegfried, the third installment in Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung.

I don't think any of our conductors here have anything to apologize for. Though I've arranged them in order of increasing range of inquisitiveness, Solti's performance seems to me quite lovely, alert and shiveringly alive. Barenboim, however, hears somewhat darker colors, and a more foreboding tread. Then Karajan really digs in, and finally Goodall takes the most searching view, taking nothing for granted here.


I HAD AN EXCHANGE WITH A NEW READER --