Profil – 17. November 2019

Günter Wand (1912-2002) left us dozens of gramophone records: complete symphonic cycles and impressive live recordings of his concerts with the NDR Symphony Orchestra and the Berlin Philharmonic. The archetypical anti-star all his life and for that very reason under-appreciated, this conductor only attained international recognition in his old age as an unequalled interpreter of classical music. Accordingly, most of these multiple-award-winning benchmark recordings date from his later years. Wand's music-making moved those who heard it with its impeccable balance of perfection coupled with faithfulness to the original, emotional fulfilment, intellectual control, utmost sensitivity and spiritual penetration. He described his mission as "serving music", a cause to which this totally unpretentious man remained committed for seventy years. He rose to be one of the true "greats" of the twentieth century, a figure standing head and shoulders above our restless times, his name synonymous with the highest musical quality.

"When the ci-hitty gets into a bu-hoys sy-hist-em, he loses his a-hankerin' for the cou-huntry." So intones W.C. Fields in his Yukon-based Victorian absurdist two-reeler The Fatal Glass of Beer (1933). However, if the city you lived in was Salzburg, Austria, the idea of "a-hankerin' for the cou-huntry" was a popular one, and Salzburg's court composer Johann Michael Haydn paid tribute to it through these two little "Abbey operettas" written not for a civic theater, but for the theater at the Benedictine University in Salzburg. Haydn's singspiel Die Hochzeit auf der Alm (The Wedding on the Alpine Pasture, 1763) was intended as a mere opener to Salzburg scribbler Florian Reichssiegel's ponderous five-act Latin tragedy Pietas conjugalis in Sigismundo et Maria; however, it was the singspiel that won the day.