Die Spaziergaengerin Von Sans Souci

Recordings of Die Meistersinger do not grow on trees; more than any other of Wagner’s operas it almost defines “festival opera”. Its four-hour-plus length is just the start: Sachs is an incredibly long role, and the character is complicated (moreso, say, that Gurnemanz in Parsifal–another endurance contest–who is religiously tunnel-visioned); Walther’s biggest moment comes at the opera’s very end and simply cannot be anything but great; Eva is sweet without being cloying and while the role is lyrical, it’s not easy to pin down dramatically; Beckmesser must be foolish but not grotesque; the orchestra is huge, and if the chorus, orchestra, and soloists get through the first act finale with flying colors, they still have the second act’s, which is a true challenge for any conductor to keep both together and clear.

Featuring a true golden-age cast, this 1967 Radio Broadcast hums and bubbles with invigorating warmth and unquenchable passion under the sprightly baton of Rafael Kubelik. Thomas Stewart is a intelligent Sachs, who brings real weight and power to the great Act III monologue but who retains real lyricism for the role's more tender moments. It would be inconceivable that Gundula Janowitz's creamy-voiced Eva would pass him over if it were not for the ardent, fiery Walther of Sándor Kónya, who gives voice to an ethereal rendition of the Prize song. Thomas Hemsley is an nuanced Beckmesser thankfully devoid of caricature, and Franz Crass is a warm, fatherly Pogner. Brigitte Fassbaender may be the most sensuous Magdalena on record, and is paired expertly by the great Gerhard Unger, at his considerable best as David.

Die Ruinen von Athen (‘The Ruins of Athens’) was composed to celebrate the opening of the new German theatre in Pest in 1812. Designed to accompany the play of that name by August von Kotzebue, its incidental music is substantial enough to form a kind of one-act Singspiel and is full of attractive arias, duets and choruses and includes the famous Turkish March. Though the work’s theme was rooted in Greek mythology, in reality it was explicitly political in nature, celebrating Pest as ‘the new Athens’. This is the first ever recording of the work with full narration.

Herbert von Karajan was an Austrian conductor. He was principal conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic for 34 years. During the Nazi era, he debuted at the Salzburg Festival, with the Vienna Philharmonic, the Berlin Philharmonic, and during World War II he conducted at the Berlin State Opera. Generally regarded as one of the greatest conductors of the 20th century, he was a controversial but dominant figure in European classical music from the mid-1950s until his death. Part of the reason for this was the large number of recordings he made and their prominence during his lifetime. By one estimate, he was the top-selling classical music recording artist of all time, having sold an estimated 200 million records.

The 1970 film version of Richard Wagner’s opera Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg is based on a staging by the director Leopold Lindtberg, for which Herbert Kirchhoff designed the set and Rudolf Heinrich the costumes. Leopold Ludwig conducts the Chorus of the Hamburg State Opera and the Philharmonic Hamburg State Orchestra. A quick glance at the cast list of this film production of Die Meistersinger reveals the surprising fact that the vocal protagonists – all stars of international reputation – were almost all associated with the Hamburg State Opera ensemble. This production fascinates by its appealing classical staging, the brilliance of the whole cast and the great camera shots, which are only could be realised in a studio production like this and with the result, that the audience finds itself placed amidst the scene.

Stefan Herheim's idea of staging a midsummer night's dream as a fairytale narrative is enchanting and with this admirably matched ensemble of excellent singer-players, all of whom bring sharp contours to their roles, and the brilliant details of characterization make each scene an experience to cherish. This unbelievably lavish and absolutely splendid stage set radiates youthful charm and conjures up a flood of incomparable images.

This is an excellent spoof/satire of all things American with a side swipe at impoverished European royalty and the operetta genre to boot. Deborah Riedel is absolutely magnificent both in her acting and her singing. Her intentional horribly bad American accent in German is absolutely hilarious and is exactly the way so many Americans speak German although never so completely and swiftly. Yet when she sings, her German, of course, is impeccable and unaccented for, after all, she is an opera singer and will go only so far to dumb down.