Weill Zar lässt sich Photographieren
View record and artist detailsRecord and Artist Details
Composer or Director: Kurt (Julian) Weill
Genre:
Opera
Label: Capriccio
Magazine Review Date: 5/1990
Media Format: CD or Download
Media Runtime: 47
Mastering:
DDD
Catalogue Number: 10 147
Tracks:
Composition | Artist Credit |
---|---|
Zar lässt sich Photographieren |
Kurt (Julian) Weill, Composer
Barry McDaniel, Tsar, Tenor Carla Pohl, Angèle, Soprano Cologne Radio Chorus Cologne Radio Symphony Orchestra Hans Franzen, Tsar's equerry, Bass Heinz Kruse, False assistant, Tenor Hilke Helling, False boy Jan Latham-König, Conductor Kurt (Julian) Weill, Composer Mario Brell, Leader Marita Napier, False Angèle, Soprano Thomas Lehrberger, Assistant, Tenor Ulla Tocha, Boy |
Author:
Here is a marvellous little opera, superbly researched, most winningly performed and handsomely produced in a 1984 studio recording by West German Radio. In its day—the first performance was in 1928—Der Zar was supremely popular on the German stage; only Der Rosenkavalier was produced more often. It fell from grace with the Nazis, and has only intermittently been revived since, an oversight bordering on iniquity which this record should help to remedy.
With an act of terrorism at the heart of the story-line, a certain Zeitgeist hovers in the plot. But Georg Kaiser's libretto borders more obviously on farce than political comment, and it's the sheer fun of the show, combined with its aura of period chic, that gives the work its continued appeal. The plot is deliciously absurd. Photographer Angele and her staff are hijacked in their Parisian studio by a team of would-be assassins, who disguise themselves and lure the Tsar to a portrait session. Under its black cloth, the camera now conceals a gun. Left alone to shoot (as it were) her customer, the imposter Angele finds herself being seduced by the Tsar, who on several occasions manages to swap roles and take control of the camera. As the pace quickens, the police move in. The criminals hastily abort their scheme and escape, leaving the Tsar faced with a new, plainer but authentic Angele. As her (disarmed) camera successfully performs its task, the curtain falls.
Weill's music is wickedly apt. Never does the score allow any moment of wit or irony in the story to go unmarked, and it brilliantly underlines the characterization. Decadent music, part dance, part pure romance, accompanies the Tsar's entry and lingers around his every word. As the two protagonists tussle over possession of the camera, so the heartbeat of the music increases, always to be teasingly interrupted. At the moment of highest drama, Weill plays his trump card: the orchestra falls silent, and instead a gramophone record plays the sultry ''Tango Angele'', recorded under Weill's supervision in 1927; the imposter Angele, drawing the Tsar to the couch, piles him with cushions and makes her getaway. Throughout all this, a male chorus in evening dress makes intermittent comments on the action in the detached manner of a Greek chorus.
Everything about the performance, under Jan Latham-Konig's well-paced direction, does the work justice, and the casting is apt throughout. There is an uneasiness of balance in the section of melodrama, where the spoken dialogue is too obviously suggestive of the studio rather than the stage; but otherwise the recording is attractive. It was a false economy to bond rather than stitch the fat insert booklet; the binding of the review copy is already beginning to disintegrate. But at least we are given the complete text, together with LS's lively English singing translation. Helpful documentation, including some splendid photographs, further add to the pleasure.'
With an act of terrorism at the heart of the story-line, a certain Zeitgeist hovers in the plot. But Georg Kaiser's libretto borders more obviously on farce than political comment, and it's the sheer fun of the show, combined with its aura of period chic, that gives the work its continued appeal. The plot is deliciously absurd. Photographer Angele and her staff are hijacked in their Parisian studio by a team of would-be assassins, who disguise themselves and lure the Tsar to a portrait session. Under its black cloth, the camera now conceals a gun. Left alone to shoot (as it were) her customer, the imposter Angele finds herself being seduced by the Tsar, who on several occasions manages to swap roles and take control of the camera. As the pace quickens, the police move in. The criminals hastily abort their scheme and escape, leaving the Tsar faced with a new, plainer but authentic Angele. As her (disarmed) camera successfully performs its task, the curtain falls.
Weill's music is wickedly apt. Never does the score allow any moment of wit or irony in the story to go unmarked, and it brilliantly underlines the characterization. Decadent music, part dance, part pure romance, accompanies the Tsar's entry and lingers around his every word. As the two protagonists tussle over possession of the camera, so the heartbeat of the music increases, always to be teasingly interrupted. At the moment of highest drama, Weill plays his trump card: the orchestra falls silent, and instead a gramophone record plays the sultry ''Tango Angele'', recorded under Weill's supervision in 1927; the imposter Angele, drawing the Tsar to the couch, piles him with cushions and makes her getaway. Throughout all this, a male chorus in evening dress makes intermittent comments on the action in the detached manner of a Greek chorus.
Everything about the performance, under Jan Latham-Konig's well-paced direction, does the work justice, and the casting is apt throughout. There is an uneasiness of balance in the section of melodrama, where the spoken dialogue is too obviously suggestive of the studio rather than the stage; but otherwise the recording is attractive. It was a false economy to bond rather than stitch the fat insert booklet; the binding of the review copy is already beginning to disintegrate. But at least we are given the complete text, together with LS's lively English singing translation. Helpful documentation, including some splendid photographs, further add to the pleasure.'
Explore the world’s largest classical music catalogue on Apple Music Classical.
Included with an Apple Music subscription. Download now.
Gramophone Digital Club
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Events & Offers
From £9.20 / month
SubscribeGramophone Club
- Print Edition
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Events & Offers
From £11.45 / month
Subscribe
If you are a library, university or other organisation that would be interested in an institutional subscription to Gramophone please click here for further information.