Germany is at war with Hungary. The king has come to raise an army. The young duke of Brabant has disappeared. His regent, the count of Telramund, accuses his sister of killing him. What’s more, he wants to be duke himself. Into this mess, a knight on a boat drawn by a swan enters. It is safe to say that Richard Wagner’s 1850 opera, Lohengrin, starts off like a Hollywood blockbuster.
It might be worth noting, too, that the knight refuses to reveal his name.
This opera, which was written as Mr. Wagner transitioned from Romantic grand opera to his own music-drama, is a good place to start with Wagner. Unlike, say, Tristan und Isolde, Lohengrin even has one of the most famous tunes in the Western world. Every time you hear “Here Comes the Bride,” you’re really hearing the Bridal Chorus from Act III. While the German might be a problem, a libretto (which can be found online) and some patience will allow you to follow the story.
I won’t ruin the story for you, but I will say this: happy endings are for Mozart.
Now that I’ve gotten my obligatory, “This is Lohengrin, and this is why you should listen to it” nonsense out of the way, I want to discuss a particular recording of the opera.
Lovro von Matačić’s 1959 Bayreuth performance of Lohengrin is as compelling a traversal of this early Wagner opera as one could want. Sándor Kónya’s performance as the eponymous knight with a secret name was and is, perhaps, the reference interpretation. While Wolfgang Windgassen’s 1954 performance for Eugen Jochum on the Green Hill shows what a tenor steeped in Wagner can do with the role, Mr. Kónya mademakes a powerful case for the merits of a lighter, more lyric tenor in the part.
As a quick aside, despite the quality of the live 1954 recording, Mr. Windgassen can be heard better – and for better comparison – on the Deutsche Grammophon set, Wolfgang Windgassen singt Wagner.
Elisabeth Grümmer’s Elsa is also very nice. She managed to come close to capturing the spirit of a young lady in a lot of trouble on a lot of levels. This role doesn’t necessarily call for a Kirsten Flagstad or Birgit Nilsson (though, Mr. Jochum’s 1954 performance has Nilsson in this role), nor does it require someone who could pull off Kundry (Parsifal) or Senta (Der fliegende Holländer). Elsa is not Wotan’s daughter, a woman who mocked Christ and has since suffered, or a merchant’s deranged daughter. Mrs. Grümmer seemed to understand that fact.
The supporting cast for Mr. von Matačić is reasonable, with Franz Crass as King Heinrich, Ernest Blanc and Rita Gorr as the treacherous couple, Friedrich von Telramund and Ortrud. Jochum, though, probably has the better all-around cast. Hermann Uhde was one of the great Wagnerian baritones, and he sang Telramund for Mr. Jochum. Astrid Varnay had Ortrud, and was probably somewhat more forceful than Ms. Gorr. Ms. Varnay, it should be noted, was Brünnhilde in Joseph Keilberth’s fabulous 1955 performances of Der Ring des Nibelungen.
Mr. von Matačić’s conducting is very reasonable and very sensitive. The Bayreuth orchestras of the so-called Golden Age were really quite excellent, and he put it to good use. His tempi seem well-judged, and he certainly let Mr. Wagner’s sound-world unfold and envelop the listener. This opera is fantastic, in a literal sense, and it encompasses a wide range of emotions – so, too, does the music have a wide range of style and mood. Mr. von Matačić seemed to understand this, and his approach reflected that. This is idiomatic Wagner, and – given some of the interpretations that have intervened – I can see no higher praise to offer.
Orfeo, the label for this release, is probably one of my favorite labels today. In particular, its relationship with Bayerischen Rundfunks (Bavarian Radio) and the Bayreuther Festspiele allows it to release official recordings, endorsed by the Bayreuth authorities, of particularly great performances from the Green Hill. As another example, Orfeo has – at mid- or even low-price – Hans Knappertsbusch’s massive and monumental 1956 performances of Der Ring des Nibelungen. While I believe that Mr. Keilberth’s recording, out for the first time ever recently on Testament, from 1955 is probably the definitive Golden Age cycle, Mr. Knappertsbusch’s version is not without considerable merit.
All things considered, this Lohengrin is a great one. The combination of Sándor Kónya and Elisabeth Grümmer alone should recommend it as a first choice, but Lovro von Matačić’s intelligent and idiomatic style makes it all the more desirable. After a summer of complaint about Festspielleiter Wolfgang Wagner’s succession and the botched Meistersinger his daughter, Katharina Wagner, staged, this record is a reminder of the days when Bayreuth was great – regardless of perspective.