KARAJAN Strauss: Die Fledermaus Ballet & Gala, Walztes & Overtures (1960, 1940-42) - PACO070

This is Andrew Rose’s reissue of the gala sequence from Karajan’s 1960 recording of Die Fledermaus, along with four rare early 1940s recordings of Strauss pieces with the Berlin Philharmonic. In his notes, Rose explains the splitting up of the gala from the main recording of Fledermaus: It seems that the LP copy he transcribed to CD didn’t include either.

I never thought this particularly long gala sequence, with its inclusion of Broadway and pop tunes of the time, was really appropriate within Fledermaus, despite what one considers “tradition.” Moreover, I felt that Renata Tebaldi sounded both dull in interpretation and vocally uncomfortable, and as someone who spent the better part of a decade (1971–81) collecting everything that Jussi Björling ever recorded, I have to say—very subjectively—that this performance of Dein ist mein ganzes Herz is, for me, the worst piece of singing by him issued commercially. The voice sounds strained and labored throughout, with even a touch of wobble—the only Björling recording to have a wobble. Of course, there were mitigating circumstances. He had suffered a heart attack in March 1960, just before a performance of La Bohème at Covent Garden. The reason he refused to cancel was that Queen Elizabeth was present, and Björling had been raised to believe that you never canceled for royalty. He had also just finished recording the Verdi Requiem at the Sofiensaal with Fritz Reiner, and in fact was currently rehearsing Un ballo in maschera for yet another recording, this time with Georg Solti. Thus he was overworked at a time when what he desperately needed was rest. I’m sure that John Culshaw pressed him into service for this gala just because he was handy and under contract, but it was a bad idea to issue his contribution. One could also say the same of Ljuba Welitsch’s Wien, Wien nur du allein, where the singer’s poor vocal estate, like Björling’s, is not at all helped by Karajan’s ridiculously slow tempos. Good grief! Even Richard Tauber would fall apart trying to sing the piece at this tempo!

The other subpar contribution here is not the result of being in poor voice but of just being who she was, and that is Joan Sutherland’s unintelligible, portamento-ridden, droopy version of Il bacio. (I almost fell on the floor laughing as she uncorked a downward portamento that I thought would actually fall through the floor.) Otherwise, there are some really fun moments here, particularly Fernando Corena’s singing of the French pop tune Domino, an unbuttoned Nilsson performance of I Could Have Danced All Night (complete with a ringing high C at the end), Berganza’s ear-ravishing performance of the little Lavilla Lullaby, and those two well-known vaudevillians, Simionato and Bastianini, having great fun with Anything You Can Do. Leontyne Price’s version of Summertime (this might be her earliest recording of it) is fresh-toned and glorious.

As for the early Strauss recordings, they show a Karajan much more in the true Viennese waltz tradition. The music has plenty of gemüchlichkeit, even with throbbing string vibrato in the performance of Artist’s Life that I’m sure the Karajan of the 1950s would have denied ever having done. The same may be said of the other pieces from this era. This is certainly not the way we’d hear this music performed today, and to a certain extent that’s good, but considering that this is Johann Strauss and not Richard, I say go for the schmaltz!

Performance-wise, then, it’s a mixed bag. Sonically, it’s a treat. Rose has managed to slightly reduce the frustrating tunnel sound that Decca-London had recently begun indulging in (and which would last a decade), which makes the orchestra and voices sound rather clearer. Your decision to acquire it will, of course, depend on your nostalgia for this particular recording or your curiosity in hearing it if you haven’t already.

Lynn René Bayley

This article originally appeared in Issue 35:6 (July/Aug 2012) of Fanfare Magazine.