Classic Ross Amico

Tag: Wagner

Verdi and Wagner World Stage

What a world. Well over a century after the deaths of two of the greatest opera composers, Verdi and Wagner continue to play a role in world events.

Poor Wagner. Always appropriated by the wrong team.

Verdi outside the Odessa Opera House

Wagner in Mali

https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2022/03/09/mali-russia-wagner/

Verdi’s “Va’ pensiero”

Fly, my thoughts, on wings of gold;
go settle upon the slopes and the hills,
where, soft and mild, the sweet airs
of my native land smell fragrant!

Greet the banks of the Jordan
and Zion’s toppled towers.
Oh, my homeland, so lovely and so lost!
Oh memory, so dear and so dead!

Golden harp of the prophets of old,
why do you now hang silent upon the willow?
Rekindle the memories in our hearts,
and speak of times gone by!

Mindful of the fate of Solomon’s temple,
Let me cry out with sad lamentation,
or else may the Lord strengthen me
to bear these sufferings!

PHOTO: Artistic rivals make peace – Giuseppe Verdi (left) and Richard Wagner – even as the world makes war

March 13, 2022
Liszt’s Operatic Keyboard Magic

In the days before the phonograph, it was common practice to arrange works from stage and concert hall for the piano, so that the music could be disseminated and enjoyed in the home. A figure like Franz Liszt went above and beyond, frequently elevating the original material to a whole other level of artistry.

These “paraphrases,” as he often called them, could hardly have been considered reductions. Most would have been too difficult for amateur pianists. Nevertheless, some of them have become very well known – the “Reminiscences of Don Juan,” “Reminiscences of Norma” and “Rigoletto Paraphrase” spring to mind. This Sunday night on “The Lost Chord,” we’ll sample a few which are perhaps not so frequently heard.

For his famous showdown against rival pianist Sigismond Thalberg, at the Paris salon of Princess Belgiojosa-Trevulzia in 1837, Liszt selected his “Niobe Fantasy,” a prime example of his ability to spin gold from the flax of a now-forgotten opera, in this case by Giovanni Pacini. When the dust settled, Belgiojosa-Trevulzia rose to declare Thalberg the greatest pianist, and Liszt the ONLY pianist – a very diplomatic assessment.

Liszt’s paraphrases were not only means to capitalize on popular operas of the time, they were also a medium through which to champion particular scores. As kappelmeister at the Weimar Court Theatre for many years, Liszt mounted operas by controversial composers of the time, like Wagner and Berlioz. It’s hard to conceive these days just how incendiary a figure Wagner was.

But Liszt thought nothing of breaking a lance for those he believed in. In fact, his reckless idealism and blind generosity would contribute to his being pushed out of the theater directorship. To honor his special relationship with Wagner – who would become his son-in-law – we’ll hear “Valhalla,” based on motives from Wagner’s “Das Rheingold.”

Then, to demonstrate the astonishing breadth of his arrangements, we’ll turn to a paraphrase on Handel’s “Almira.” This dates from Liszt’s later period – his only arrangement from that time based on a Baroque source. It was written in 1879 for his English piano student Walter Bache for performance at the Handel Festival in London. It should be noted that Handel’s operas were virtually forgotten at the time. Again, Liszt’s treatment is by no means a straight transcription, but a skillful reimagining of the Baroque, in almost Busonian terms, and an impressive piece of music in itself.

Handel’s operas may have been regarded as obscurities in those days, but very much the opposite was the case with the grand operas of Giacomo Meyerbeer. In contrast to Handel’s operatic reputation, which has increased enormously in recent decades, Meyerbeer’s once wildly-popular works for the stage have virtually disappeared. There are several reasons for this, not least of which is that these grandest of grand operas cost a fortune to mount.

Liszt made ambitious arrangements of all of Meyerbeer’s greatest works and put some of these through quite extensive revisions. Tonight, we’ll hear a “Grand Fantasy on Meyerbeer’s ‘The Huguenots,” the third of three versions, from 1842.

Liszt’s transcriptions and paraphrases were numerous, and no mere sidebar. On the contrary, they were central to his creative output. He was an astoundingly prolific arranger, especially when considering his other activities as composer, conductor, and teacher.

I hope you’ll join me for “Grand Opera to Hand Opera” – Franz Liszt’s operatic paraphrases for the keyboard – this Sunday night at 10:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.

February 6, 2022
Stokowski’s Wagner Early Philadelphia Recordings

With the possible exception of his own transcriptions of the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, Leopold Stokowski recorded more Wagner with the Philadelphia Orchestra than any other composer.

This Sunday night on “The Lost Chord,” on Stoky’s birthday, we’ll revisit some of his early recordings, originally issued on 78s, including the controversial “Liebesnacht,” the original version of his symphonic synthesis after “Tristan und Isolde” – an arrangement that infuriated listeners, with its inconclusive ending – and the “Liebestod,” which he subsequently undertook, by popular demand, in order to provide a more satisfactory conclusion.

We’ll also hear a superb performance of “Wotan’s Farewell and Magic Fire Music,” from “Die Walküre,” with baritone Lawrence Tibbett, in a role he never sang on stage. And, as an added bonus, Stokowski himself will supply a spoken summary of the “Ring Cycle,” done for CBS radio in 1932, complete with faux middle-European accent. (Stoky was a second-generation Londoner, his father of Polish extraction and his mother Irish.)

I hope you’ll join me for “Magic Fire” – Leopold Stokowski’s early Wagner recordings with the Philadelphia Orchestra – this Sunday night at 10:00 EDT, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.

April 18, 2021
Parsifal Good Friday Music from Wagner & Stokowski

For Good Friday, here’s my annual posting of Leopold Stokowski’s sublime Houston recording of the “Good Friday Spell” from Wagner’s “Parsifal.”

As an added bonus, enjoy a fascinating 1927 recording of the Transformation Music and Grail Scene from Act I, set down at the Bayreuth Festspielhaus. The recording employs the original bells designed by Wagner, which were later melted down by the Nazis for ammunition during World War II. A rare opportunity to experience “Parsifal” as Wagner actually knew it. (The bells begin at 5:57.)

Muck had been associated with the Bayreuth Festival since 1892. He became its principal conductor in 1903. Between 1901 and 1930, he conducted “Parsifal” at Bayreuth 14 times.

IMAGE: Set design by Paul von Joukowsky for the 1882 Bayreuth debut of “Parsifal”

April 2, 2021
Like Microplastics, Wagner Is Everywhere

Every year during Holy Week, I try to listen to Wagner’s “Parsifal” – whether I need it or not. This year, I am especially interested to do so, since I have been reading Alex Ross’ recent book, “Wagnerism.”

Ross, music critic at The New Yorker for the past quarter century, makes a convincing case that Richard Wagner was the single most influential artist, not only in music, but in all spheres of life, of perhaps the last 180 years.

A mite hyperbolic? I thought so too, but as chapter is laid out upon chapter, over the course this 700-page tome, one soon comes to realize – from Tannhäuser’s Venusberg to Lohengrin’s swan-boat, from Alberich’s Ring to Amfortas’ wound – that in fact, he’s absolutely right!

And not simply because of Wagner’s prominent, recurrent archetypes, but also because of his underlying ideas, and how they’re processed and presented in his overwhelming music dramas.

Literature, poetry, visual art, architecture, design, theater, dance, movies, politics, economics, religion, philosophy, nationalism, prejudice, psychology, technology, and sexuality – for better or worse, there is almost no one who has not been influenced in some way or other by Wagner. Not only in the West, but in the entire industrialized world.

This applies even to those who have never heard of Wagner, or even a note of his music. It would seem that one embraces, rejects, or grapples with Wagner, or affects indifference or lives in ignorance, but sooner or later, even the most skeptical will be steamrolled by someone or something driven by his ideas. Seriously, once you take in the evidence, your head will explode.

To be honest, I found Ross’ approach to be a little lightweight at first, the kind of book that would impress readers who don’t really know that much about a subject. The writing is not particularly stylish. Most of the supporting evidence is not dwelt upon for more than a few pages. Some examples are little more than namedropped. That’s not to say it’s not well-written and that there aren’t plenty of insights along the way.

But it soon becomes apparent that Ross has a longer, larger aim, and that he knows exactly what he’s doing. The sheer scope of the narrative serves to illustrate the inescapable accumulation of Wagnerian influence on the development of human society.

I hasten to add, this is not an academic exercise. It is not at all dry or abstruse. The book is geared toward a popular audience, not the ivory tower. Furthermore, it can be ridiculously entertaining.

From the Department of You Can’t Please Everyone comes this delicious assessment of “Parsifal,” by the Futurist firebrand Filippo Tommaso Marinetti. Without going too much into the history behind it, Marinetti was fed up with the “Parsifal” craze that swept Europe in 1914. Previously, the opera had been permitted only to be performed at Wagner’s own specially-outfitted Festspielhaus in Bayreuth, where it had been staged since 1882. The monopoly was lifted on January 1st. In the next six months, “Parsifal” was performed in no fewer than 50 European opera houses.

Marinetti responded with a two-page screed, titled “A bas le Tango et Parsifal!” (“Down with the Tango and Parsifal!”), from which this is but an excerpt:

“If the tango is bad enough, ‘Parsifal’ is even worse, as it inoculates the dancers, swaying to and fro, bored and listless, with an incurable musical neurasthenia. How can we avoid ‘Parsifal,” with its downpours, its puddles, and its floods of musical tears? ‘Parsifal’ is a systematic devaluation of life! A factory cooperative of sadness and despair. Tuneless stretching and straining for weak stomachs. Poor digestion and heavy breathing for forty-year-old virgins. Whining of flabby and constipated old priests. Wholesaling and retailing of bad consciences and a stylish effeminacy for snobs. Blood deficiency, feebleness of the loins, hysteria, anemia, and greensickness. Prostration, brutalization, and violation of Mankind. Ridiculous scraping of failed, mutilated notes. Snoring of drunken organs sprawling in the vomit of foul-tasting leitmotifs. False tears and pearls flaunted by a Mary Magdalene with a plunging neckline more suited to Maxim’s. Polyphonic pus from Amfortas’ festering scabs. Worn-out wailings of the Knights of the Holy Grail. Nonsensical Satanism of Kundry… Antediluvianism! Antediluvianism! Enough of it!”

Ouch!

Yeah, that about sums it up. I can’t wait to listen to it again.

March 30, 2021

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