barczablog

The headline isn’t a mistake nor a figure of speech.

Swedish tenor Jussi Björling is one of my favourite singers.  As a child, it was his recordings of the great arias and duets that I usually encountered first, often spoiling me for any other singer.  In addition to his unparalleled operatic output he created a wonderful body of song performances, often songs from Scandanavia that I’ve never heard sung by anyone else.

The immortal voice came from a mortal.  I came to discover his pluses and minuses –as with any artist—as I grew up.  While the tone was stunningly beautiful, I heard critiques suggesting that he was better on record than in person given his limitations as an actor.  Sometimes his pronunciation showed an accent (for example the Italian word “ciel” often sounded like “shell” rather than “chell”), even though this was a singer who performed in many languages  (the CD includes the usual German, French and Italian, but also Swedish and Norwegian).  Note that he sang in a transitional period, when many regional houses still sang everything in the local language (for example, he had learned Tamino in Swedish and never learned it in German because it wasn’t a role he sang internationally), whereas by the time of his retirement most operas were being done in the original language.  He had a habit of sometimes singing higher notes a fraction of a tone sharp, an effect that I found exciting even if it’s not strictly accurate, and bothers some listeners.

And he died in 1960.

How then can I properly appreciate the magical gift of a newly discovered performance, released for the first time in 2016?  October 15^th 1959 was the date of Björling’s recital in Falkoner Centret Concert Hall, Copenhagen, one of the first events in a brand-new facility.  The precious tape of this concert was recently discovered, restored, and now has been released fifty-seven years later for the first time in cooperation with Jussi Björling societies in Sweden, UK and America.  While the recording includes a twenty-four page booklet, the song texts aren’t included but can be found instead on the website of the Swedish Jussi Björling Society with translations (although a couple are missing, possibly because there were late changes in the CD).    The recording concludes with a bonus Voice of Firestone broadcast from 1952, an additional seventeen minutes or so, pushing the total to over sixty-seven minutes in total (the Copenhagen recital comprising almost fifty minutes).

Part of the booklet is the engineer’s explanation as to why these never came to light before: that both the broadcast recording (from 16” lacquer coated discs, exhibiting crackle and disc noise) and the Copenhagen recital recording (on reel-to-reel tape, including dropouts, low-end bumping (bias) noises plus audience coughs) were unserviceable without digital enhancements (NB the re-furbished Voice of Firestone broadcast has previously been made available on an Immortal Performances release of a 1941 Il Trovatore from the Met, and I think I’ve heard it before with its original rough sound).

Here’s the list of tracks on the CD:

The Copenhagen Oct 15^th recital, Jussi Björling with Bertil Bokstedt piano:

1: Mozart: Die Zauberflöte: Dies bildnis ist bezaubernd schön, (sung in Swedish Ja, detta är en ängels bild)

2: Brahms: Die Mainacht

3: Liszt: Es muss ein Wunderbares sein

4. Wolf: Verborgenheit

5: Schubert: Die Forelle

6: Schubert: Die schöne Müllerin: Die böse Farbe

7: Bizet: Carmen: La fleur que tu m’avais jetée (Flower Song)

8: Björling announces a Peterson-Berger song instead of the originally programmed Alfvén song.

9: Petersen-Berger: Jungfrun under lind

10: Alfvén: Skogen sover

11: Sibelius: Demanten på marssnön

12: Sibelius: Säv, säv, susa  

13: Grieg: En svane

14: Grieg: Ein Traum (sung in Norwegian as En drøm)

15: Giordano: Andrea Chenier: Come un bel dì di maggio

16: Tosti: Ideale

17: Richard Strauss: Zueignung

The Voice of Firestone from March 10, 1952 with the Voice of Firestone Orchestra & Chorus, Howard Barlow, Conductor

18: Opening announcements & Firestone: If I Could Tell You

19: Announcements

20: Speaks: Sylvia (with Chorus)

21: Announcements

22: Puccini: Turandot: Nessun dorma

23: Announcements

24: Tosti: L’alba separa dalla luce l’ombra

25: Announcements

26: Herbert: The Princess Pat: Neapolitan Love Song (with Chorus)

27: Announcements

28: Firestone: In My Garden and concluding announcements

I think this is an important CD for a number of reasons, that will reveal itself to me in the years to come as I listen incessantly.  Our habits have changed possibly due to shifts in fashion or scholarship, taking us in different directions, so it’s marvelous to hear a singer going back and forth between opera arias and lieder, sometimes bringing the same interpretive approach to bear on both.  His Flower Song is more like lieder than opera, in its remarkable changes of pace and tone, a phenomenally psychological reading unlike anything you’d hear in an opera house.   And although he was only a few weeks removed from the hospital –having had heart problems during the recording of Madama Butterfly earlier the same year—we aren’t easily able to discern any evidence, no signs of compromise.

Several of these are the most perfect realization of a particular piece that I have ever heard (although in the case of the Scandinavian songs, the only other versions are by Björling).

• “Säv, säv susa” and “Skogen sover” sound more delicate and vulnerable than ever, the soft head-voice fluid yet supported, astonishing to reconcile with some of the powerfully macho sounds in the same fifteen minutes of singing
• While this “Zueignung” seems to be a bit of a tug of war with pianist Bokstedt (possibly because the singer didn’t have the same wind & stamina we encounter in other recordings, especially that wonderful concert recording from 1960, where the last note goes on so powerfully) I was struck by the lucid intelligence of this trouper, coping boldly with his limitations.
• This is the first time I’ve ever heard “Die Forelle” sung by someone known to be an avid fisherman, a playful interpretation unlike any I’ve heard.

This recording isn’t just for Jussi fans, but anyone who enjoys good singing and beautiful music.  You can find the CD by going to the Swedish Björling society website ,  then clicking on “Shop” in the menu at the left of the page.  As far as I know you won’t find this in record stores, making this a one-of-a-kind gift for your opera-loving friends / family members. They’ll love you for it.

Let’s set aside the yard-sticks of excellence that critics use.  I went to see Die Fledermaus tonight in its new immersive Opera 5 Production. Although I was the designated driver I was totally immersed. It was fun even though I only had one beer.

It was one of those nights when I was laughing so loud I got funny looks from the lady standing beside me. Hm, that’s odd isn’t it, that we were standing?

A lucky photo i took with my phone of aerialist Jamie Holmes: not precisely your usual operetta.

Let me phrase it differently, even though I did not get drunk but still am in an altered reality, a bit star-struck, and energized by lots of belly laughter.

You know you’ve had a good time when:

• You not only wish that you were in the show as a participant but somehow could slip into the world they’re representing onstage
• You are going back through the photos you took –and when was the last time you were at an opera shooting photos, let alone a hundred or so?—and are surprised by joy, recalling a moment from earlier in the show
• You wish you weren’t saddled with the role of designated driver, unable to take advantage of the free beer.

Ah yes let me repeat that last one. Yes there is free beer, courtesy of Steam Whistle Brewery. The cast sing their praises a few times (mini-ads?) during the operetta.

Chips & beer at the opera?

As one of the more sober persons present I promise you that our enjoyment was genuine rather than drunken, even if the beverages do help remove inhibitions.

I had heard of the premise: that after the exposition of Act I, we are (mostly) standing for Act II, chairs removed to encourage us to mingle with the show. And then when the cops show up for the last scene we’re put behind caution tape, a simple little device as modern as an episode of CSI.

Standing or sitting behind the caution tape

For the last two acts we’re functioning in the round, with audience on all sides, watching performers fully exposed while singing, dancing and/or acting. There’s so much going on you never know where to look. In addition to a talented set of principals, we have a full chorus as well as a series of additional performers.

Oh my. The story is told well enough, the music is spectacular, joyous and full of life, yet it’s really a big happening. Yes Act II is meant to be a party but wow this was real, including aerials, burlesque and dance to go with a few performances from the players we’ve already met.

For the past five years a series of small companies have been competing for attention on the Toronto scene. For the most part Against the Grain have seemed to be the most accomplished, certainly as far as their ability to maintain a consistently high level musically & dramatically, including A Little Too Cozy, their most recent transladaptation. Now Opera 5 step up to the plate with Fledermaus, a show bursting with ideas, beauty, and charisma, that doesn’t just answer, but would be my choice for the most interesting show from a Toronto opera company this year even if it’s not precisely an opera: and that’s not just the free beer talking.  And who would have expected it..? Operetta is really the same form as the musical, although no one would mistake Fledermaus for Assassins or Light in the Piazza, to mention two of the more adventurous examples of the form.  What we saw and heard was something far more daring.

There’s plenty of credit to be had for the overall effect, a fun deconstruction of the space in the tradition of Brecht, even if old Bert might have some qualms about the show’s politics (as the only thing even a bit Marxist was the beer for all, a celebration of something capitalist). Opera 5 Artistic Director Aria Umezawa clearly knew what she was doing in her stage direction and in the translation she created. The bold choice to broaden the disciplines from just singing in Act II is totally legit (lest any purist claim that an operetta can’t include burlesque or aerialists), and one of the most sure-handed bits of stage-craft I’ve seen in a long time. While I admired what I heard coming from Johannes Debus, once you get past the pit & the musical presentation, there was nothing from the COC this year with the confident swagger of this show.

Alongside Umezawa I want to mention Jennifer Nichols, whose choreography goes beyond anything I’ve ever seen in an opera. The only thing I can compare it to is the few times in amateur musicals or a church choir where we’re working with people who don’t sing. Nichols creates a world populated by dancers and amateurs alike, graceful and empowered whether they’re in dancing shoes or not. I’m reminded of Pina Bausch whose wonderfully moral influence can be seen in Nichols’ willingness to work with bodies of every age, shape, and fitness level, a democratic world that’s genuinely representative of everyone and not just the elite few.  [morning after addendum: recalling Madison Angus as Ida, whose party performance was one of my favourite moments in the show, a fit of choreography against choreography that was like an answer to anyone –like me– who finds virtuosity troubling.  Conventional dance, emulating other  sorts of romantic virtuoso display seems to proclaim “look at me, i’m better than you”. Nichols seems to offer a loving alternative, untroubled by any skills deficiencies, and using attitude above all.  It’s the most curious mix of edgy (when Ida gets heckled for her faux dance) and forgiving (her response: because she can handle it) that i’ve ever encountered, but that’s not a contradiction. It’s adulthood.]

The small orchestra led by Patrick Hansen matched the theatre at 918 Bathurst beautifully. For Act I, most of which is played up on the stage at one end, the acoustics were at times a little difficult, the text sometimes lost in the space’s reverb. But once the show came into the middle of the space, my gosh what a difference, as everyone sang full out right in front of us, and fearlessly.  Umezawa kept the different constellations of bodies moving to ensure that everyone played out in all directions, so that we were all included.

There were many splendid performances to enjoy. Rachel Krehm as Rosalinda enjoyed the comical oversize costume elements that were part of the Brechtian design scheme by Matthew Vaile. We’re put into a self-conscious self-reflexive sort of world at times resembling cabaret, yet the singing was full-out operatic, Krehm rising every time to the powerful high notes without losing her sense of fun. Julie Ludwig as Adele was every bit as good in her singing, while Michael Barrett as Eisenstein came into his own once he started to play several levels of inebriation at the party scene. It was great to hear Keith Lam’s warm baritone, camping it up as a flamboyant Dr Falke, alongside the brilliant physical comedy of Geoffrey Penar as Frank. Erin Lawson was a highly original Orlofsky, while Justin Ralph was a modern version of the foppish Alfred, complete with pop – song references.

I should mention, too, the ways in which Fledermaus flies free of the operetta tradition. There’s the persona of Pearle Harbour played by Justin Miller (must be Canadian with that spelling), aerialist Jamie Holmes and burlesque artist Rubie Magnitude. A pair of dancers—Drew Berry and Lily McEvenue—raised the bar (no pun intended) in several numbers.

There are two more performances of Opera 5’s Die Fledermaus at 918 Bathurst St. Friday & Saturday nights.  Don’t miss it!