Before Eaglen there was Nilsson; before Nilsson, Flagstad; and before Flagstad was the singer many believe the greatest Wagnerian of them all, Frida Leider. She brought a bel canto sensibility to her singing, with beautiful tone and seamless legato–and she lent a somber tinge to the warmth of her soprano. Decca’s Leider volume in The Singers series is valuable because it focuses on her earlier recordings, made between 1921 and 1925. These are less readily available since most reissues understandably focus on her work from the late 1920s through the 1930s. She was at her peak then, and recorded in the electrical recording process that supplanted the primitive acoustic method that reduced orchestras to tinny facsimiles of themselves and diminished the color and vocal sheen of soprano voices. By the time these records were made though, Leider was hardly a novice; she was in her early 30s, had been starring in dramatic soprano roles in provincial houses, and was at the brink of Berlin stardom.
The focus here is on Wagner, with good reason. Her “Dich, teure Halle” from Tannhäuser is radiant, the Tristan “Liebestod” overwhelming in its purity and commanding vocal presence, and Kundry’s “Ich sah das Kind” from Parsifal is sung with warmth, though her 1931 remake is even more trenchant. A highlight is the 1925 “Du bist der Lenz” from Die Walküre, where she’s partnered by Lauritz Melchior in a virtually perfect performance, distinguished by legato phrasing in a duet that all too often has the lovers barking at each other. In the Siegfried sequence, ennobled by Leider’s gorgeous tone and vivid response to the text, her partner is a dry-sounding Fritz Soot.
If Wagner’s the main course, the appetizers are a meal in themselves. The disc opens with the Countess’ “Dove sono” from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, sung in German, but with a freedom and discreet rubato that, however unstylish it may seem today, remains compelling. From 1921, her Fidelio “Abscheulicher” is impressive in its grandeur, and similar magisterial singing sparks Weber’s gift to dramatic sopranos, “Ozean, du Ungeheuer!” from Oberon. Decca’s transfers tend to lighten and thin out a voice that was bigger and warmer than reproduced here. They’ve retained the surface noise since filtering it out would remove musical overtones, so historical recording buffs should be satisfied even though we’ve been spoiled by the wizardry of engineers such as Ward Marston. Like others in the series, a slim booklet contains track listings and a brief bio; for texts and translations, put the CD in your computer’s CD-R drive. Don’t ask me why this is considered an enhancement. But while The Singers has been a curiously uneven series, this one gets a firm thumbs up.
