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Streaming Tristan und Isolde Online.
Movie Title: Tristan und Isolde Tristan und Isolde is available for streaming or downloading. |
I hope the notation at Amazon that this DVD has been discontinued by the manufacturer is in error. It would be absurd to delete it only weeks after its official release; not only absurd, it would be a travesty, because this DVD place provides a report of an wonderful and deeply consuming performance.
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It must be said that the director, Patrice Chereau, offers interpretations at several moments that will seem strange or obnoxious to purists and traditionalists; this is particularly proper of the bleeding head of Isolde in her final monologue. But I would race skeptics to peep, listen, pay attention to the text and the music, and I acquire most would agree that Chereau has not “imposed” anything, but has drawn from the essence of Wagner’s work some worthy lovely and theatrical effects, making this one of the most emotionally wrenching performances of the opera that I have ever seen. Arguments about the details should not distract from the positive fact that Chereau has produced a performance that is entirely consistent within itself, and consistent with the spirit of Wagner’s work (with, perhaps, a heavy dose of Schopenhauer’s worldview included) .
The principals are unbelievable. Gerd Grochowski plays a youthful and smitten Kurwenal, obviously deeply in fancy with his master and willing to die for him. Michelle DeYoung, made to see far older than her genuine years (quite the opposite of her youthful appearance in the Met production), again performs a sympathetic and nurturing Brangaene, but from a different set on the age spectrum. Both affirm very well.
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Matti Salminen’s Marke is brusque, forceful, almost a King Lear in his initial royal autonomy, but staggered and nearly broken as Tristan’s betrayal sinks in. Of course, his singing of the role is deeply expressive and authoritative.
Ian Storey may not be the greatest remark to construct Tristan, but his acting and his presence are so totally effective, and his singing is always very elegant if not transcendent, that his is definitely one of the best performances of the role that I have seen. The camera gives us great more of his facial expressions, always deeply eager in the moment, than would normally be seen in the theater, and we know that he is an actor constantly inside his character.
Waltraud Meier has sung Isolde many times–this is, I enjoy, her third performance of the role available on DVD–but this must be her definitive performance. Again, as with Salminen and Storey, her acting is profound, her thought of Isolde empathetic and deeply racy. Even in her most anguished moments, Meier is comely and affecting, and her singing, though there are a very few moments when she is a bit flat, is astounding.
Daniel Barenboim makes the La Scala orchestra sound heavenly, and his pacing of the music and attention to the singers makes this one of the truly huge performances available in recorded obtain.
Again, I hope it is not honest that this DVD spot has been withdrawn. It should be seen by every lover of this opera.
This is an overwhelming occasion in nearly every sense, a massive triumph. That we can now have a TRISTAN to be such is no diminutive accomplishment.
First off, the sets, costumes. It is in neo-realistic style, with great stone walls and forbidding grays, blacks and sad colors. The singers are all dressed, refugee-style, long overcoats, shifts. It’s not dreadful, but it composed looks too current (for me) of a chronicle that’s area in “Legendary” times. To be definite, this is far more human, accessible near than the abstracted occupy of the Glyndebourne production; but a more romantic setting is needed for Act 2 (my understanding) to complement the luxuriant, sensual splendor of the central cherish duet. My number 1 choice for an overall belief in terms of matching mood to music is Ponnelle’s, in the 1983 film from Bayreuth. Once you’ve seen it, you can’t forget Johanna Meier and Rene Kollo under that vast, discreetly-dotted-lighted tree, on their knees, facing each other, with a gentle amble wafting through. Wih this visual, bathed in that sensual music, it exactly captures that lushly romantic, mystical otherworldliness the music asks for.
What makes this production work so well is the direction of Patrice Chereau. Chereau rejected directing Tristan for years, because, as he assign it, it was too noteworthy like a “radio play” – best heard, not seen. But having favorite it, he very noteworthy creates a involving, unstatic drama where there is action and movements as a consequence of the music and words. Everything has a specificity and purpose, and they’re all done with unerring dramatic skill and taste. Best of all, Chereau gets performances out of these artists, and there’s a proper collaboration where the singers don’t suffer in sacrifice to the directorial vision. He both abets and frees them, allows them to be natural.
Barenboim’s conducting. I cannot authoritatively justify about speeds, and the orchestral “interpretation” and such, but for what it’s worth, the music sounded drop-dead heavenly to me. The Scala orchestra has never sounded so texturally pretty, everything so pristine and smart, conversely sonorous when it needs to be. Best of all though, he rarely swamps the singers, and guides them through deftly.
The casting is from strength, all the design down to the secondary roles. Grochowski’s Kurwenal is strong-voiced, and physically adept, and he really is a fitting catalyst for Tristan in the third act. Michelle DeYoung’s Brangaene is simply outstanding, in a long line of unheralded protaganistas in the role. She sings without any strain, in long-breathed phrases with fair musianship and a sparkling, freely emitted tone. Matti Salminen – here he is, 25 years after being captured in the Ponnelle/Bayreuth film, sounding considerable the same, barring only a few minor patches of dryness of tone. Unbelievable. His restrained implacability is as toweringly menacing as ever; yet the afflict and inflame reach through with a reserve that indicates a seething interior. That we have Pape, the newer Marke, and Salminen, the established broken-down, in this role is an unparalleled luxury.
If there is a better matched pair of lovers today than Ian Storey and Waltraud Meier, I haven’t seen them yet. Vocally, physically and histrionically, they embody the lovers to the hilt. Simply effect, it would be hard to notice Eaglen and Heppner after these two (sorry, but they are so naggingly poor and restricted) .
Storey is a unique name to me. He is a enormous, chunky contain of a man, huge, and ruggedly glorious. His masculine bearing is the perfect counterpoint to the lithe, feminine Meier (this is the most aesthetic, romantic pair you’ll explore) . The bid may divide some. It matches the ‘burly” description – a substantial, baritonal sound. Typical of a lot of “baritonal” Heldentenor-types, it is not especially shining or free on top, but neither is it unduly strained. There’s a valid flutter to the tonal output, but not a scurry at all; a bit of a grain to it, not meltingly glorious, but noteworthy, staunch, outpouring. And what an actor. Responsive to Chereau’s direction and the sagacity of his leading lady, his performance is like a tidal wave of power and emotion. Storey completely submerges himself into Act 3, where he gives and gives of unspeakable intensity, while never dreary vocally. The camera captures his face, sweating profusely and his raw physicality swept into the drama; talk about immersion. The unflagging energy and passion is almost frightening; it is, all told, an overwhelming portrayal.
The best for last – Meier’s Isolde. The best since the previous Meier, Johanna. When I read a decade and a half ago that Meier would be undertaking Isolde, I was extremely doubtful. She was billed as a mezzo when I first heard her; it was in the Barenboim Verdi Requiem recording. I distinctly take being unconvinced by Meier. At that time, as a mezzo, she was to me unsteady in the middle, and pushed on top. Most mezzos who have sung the Verdi Requiem have burly, solid, colossal middles; Meier did not. I’m lead to fill, then, that Meier was never really a mezzo, but a fair soprano. Here as Isolde, her upper middle is far freer and expressive than her lower-middle (but now that sounds better because she’s not sitting on it) ; but her top sounds better to me now than it did years ago. The result of singing Isolde – and others – with a higher teessitura – has freed her express into the worthy category?
Let it stand that pitch and placement wise, there are a few ( and I DO mean literally, ‘few’) suspect notes. But, given that the percentage rate of failure and anguish that has plagued this role, Meier’s assumption is a complete success – triumph, fair, to be more specific.
Vocally, she has all the qualifications. A smoothness of emission. The ability to contour phrases. To enlighten softly without it becoming constricted. An ability to roar forte with a honorable measure of freedom. The ability to tailor, bend, expand, straighten out the tone according to the color of the words related to the music. To instruct a just legato without it being pushed, and to last all night long without developing a crab in the tonal output. Proponents of Leider, Flagstad, Nilsson may argue plausibly that Meier is a more on the lyrical side of dramatic than is ideal; but those ladies ain’t around. And Barenboim has thoughtfully given her notify the aural cushioning it needs.
Best of all though, her portrayal is a totality in itself. It is hard to imagine any Isolde so physically convincing, free and unfettered. Long years of performing this role has given her a spontaneity so that every go, every line is organically woven into her interpretation. There is not a deceptive fade anywhere, not a moment where she could be said to be floundering. She is a joy to look. A blooming woman, she moves like a dancer. This is a singing actress in every sense of the word, neither one taking precedence nor sacrificing the other. How often does one earn the “compleat artistry”?
Every facet of isolde is realized, you find the whole gamut, the whole anecdote. The ultimate catharsis and resolution in Meier’s wonderful “Quiet und Leise” is almost too much: when she intones those first lines, the sheer radiance of her singing produces something of an intoxicatingly ethereal, almost ugly sense of release. In this context to what has followed before, “Level-headed und Leise” is a stroke of genius on Wagner’s portion – a staunch delaying of gratification if ever there was one. You realize that, excerpted in concert, it has not nearly as mighty of an emotional wallop than if it caps the opera in toto.
The explosion of applause toward the performers by the Scala audience is a fitting stop to a momentous occasion.
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