[Met Performance] CID:82170



Tristan und Isolde
Metropolitan Opera House, Mon, November 27, 1922




Tristan und Isolde (156)
Richard Wagner | Richard Wagner
Tristan
Curt Taucher

Isolde
Margarete Matzenauer

Kurwenal
Clarence Whitehill

Brangäne
Sigrid Onegin

King Marke
Paul Bender

Melot
Carl Schlegel

Sailor's Voice
Angelo Badà

Shepherd
George Meader

Steersman
Louis D'Angelo


Conductor
Artur Bodanzky


Director
Samuel Thewman

Set Designer
Joseph Urban

Costume Designer
Mathilde Castel-Bert





Tristan und Isolde received six performances this season.

Review 1:

Review of W. J. Henderson in the Sub

UNEVEN PERFORMANCE FITS ITS HAPPIEST NEW-COMERS IN ONEGIN AND BENDER

Tristan was a liar. The management of Bayreuth, Inc., may sue for libel, but history is behind us, even if Richard Wagner isn't. It rather grieved us the other day, while browsing for new thoughts on an ancient theme, to read that Tristan, son of Rivlan and Blancheflor, trained by Rual the Seneschal to be the most accomplished here of all knightly romance (a linguist, a chess champion, a scientists of venerie and a finished musician long before he came to the Metropolitan), was likewise famous as the most fluent liar of his parlous times. In fact, according to the Bleheris version, he lied more than he loved - and he was always loving. Wagner may have been aware of this trifling defect in the character of the rising young man whom he incorporated into the greatest of music dramas. For Wagner turned him into a tenor - a circumstance guaranteed to explain away all social sins.

Now there is a new tenor singing in last night's performance of "Tristan und Isolde" at the Metropolitan - the first of the season. The new tenor was Kurt Taucher of Dresden, heard here only once before in the first "Walkuere" last week, stripped of his Siegmund's beard. Mr. Taucher disclosed a serious and highbrowed mien, more akin to that of a young William Jennings Bryan than to that of a young Tristan on a slight and soberly conducted body. There was nothing very romantic about him, either in acting or singing, and, though he is versed in Wagnerian traditions, betrayed even more fully than the evening of his debut did that his voice lacks the Wagnerian tone, the dramatic and free ring which Tristan needs and deserves. Optimists will use the right to call him an improvement on his immediate predecessor of last season. And if that lukewarm compliment takes any chill off his welcome, let it serve. Then too, there was Mr. Paul Bender in the role of King Mark and Mme. Sigrid Onegin singing the Brangaene a first time. These were all the innovators. For the rest the cast was as last year. Mme. Matzenauer as Isolde, Mr. Whitehill as the Telramund.

It was interesting to see what Mr. Bender, whose Hunding of last week was so cruel and vindictive a character, would make of King Mark. Not all the ancient versions paint him as an easy Mark. In at least one of them he is jealous and suspicious of his wife and Tristan long before their discovery. The poets treat deliciously one episode, which Wagner omitted: Mark in a fit of jealousy banishes Tristan and Isolde from the court; they fly to the woods, where they lead an idyllic life, blissful in each other's company, Mark hunting in the forest comes upon them sleeping in a cave - with a sword between them. Of course Tristan has known that Mark is in the neighborhood and placed the sword there at the very last moment. But Mark is melted by their innocence. Through a cleft in the rock a beam of light falls on Isolde's face. Mark kindly crams his glove into the crevice and goes his way determined to forgive and forget. Which he does - until the next time. Mr. Bender's King Mark is decidedly to do with that next time. It is a stern but human king, not simply ordained by divine right of bassos, but big, sore, sorrowful, brawny with impotence, vengeful with a broken heart. He sang the long soliloquy richly and roundly.

The other newcomer, Mme. Onegin, gloried in the role of a Wagnerian handmaiden more successfully than she did in that of a Verdian princess last week. Her Brangaene was a lovely thing -plastic, personable, alive to the vocal detail. The dramatic meaning and the fine, wholly open tones of her voice pronounced a benison over the lovers that was one with the starry night. She brings to the part a sympathy, a foreshadowing of grief and tragedy that most Brangaenes are content to leave behind. Her singing was beautiful. Her voice fulfilled the promise of Carnegie Hall, as wall as the comparison made of it then with Mme. Matzenauer's. They are voices remarkably alike in color. Mme. Onegin's lighter, smoother, far more natural and agreeable.

Mme. Matzenauer pays the penalty with her Isolde of thrusting her mezzo up to soprano heights. The thrusting no longer comes easy, and some horrifying notes result. Of course, it is a feat to be able to command such a range - but the commanding is not pleasing. And voluptuous as her lower register is, it made a dark scramble with what ought by all operatic rights to be the darker voice of Brangaene. Mme. Matzenauer wore a tall golden crown in the first act; an enormous affair, pronged with what looked like the seven deadly ?sins.

Mr. Whitehill's Telramund kept up a picturesque level, established by this admirable artist in other operas. He makes the grizzled, faithful servant a strength and character that are more than voice and stature. Mr. Bada sang a little disappointingly from the riggings of the ship. Mr. Meader artistically from the ground; and Messrs., Schlegel and D'Angelo were the Melot and the non-steering Steersman.

It was a performance none too smooth and sagging under the lack of buoyancy of Mr. Taucher and the surplus of it of Mme. Matzenauer. Mr. Bodanzky strove with musicianly determination to give it a genuine lift - and the happiest moments of the evening were the purely orchestral ones. Tristan may have been a more accomplished liar, but he could not deny his Wagner.



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