Leonard Bernstein’s operetta Candide is an often-wounded musical masterpiece. The injuries invariably have been inflicted by the non-musical portions of the presentation. First there was Lillian Hellman’s doctrinaire version. The “Chelsea Theatre Version” was more entertaining, but at the cost of giving the musical the air of a Playboy Ribald Classic. Finally Bernstein approved a definitive musical text, which was recorded on one CD with written synopses of the action in the program book. Therefore, the idea of having a version with text, starring Jerry Hadley (a veteran in the role of Candide) and in multi-channel SACD, presents an irresistible prospect.
At first sight, the CD package does not make a promising impression. The most prominent words on the cover are “Candide” and “Loriot”, with Loriot in type twice the size of Bernstein’s name. Loriot, it turns out, is a pleasant-looking 75-year-old man in half-moon reading glasses. He is the only person whose picture is printed in this package. The same picture, six times. It turns out he is a cartoonist and German media figure (and also a descendant of the musical and martial von Bülow family of Prussia) who reads his own text between all the musical numbers, all in German. The musical bits themselves are in English, but in the CD booklet no translation is provided for the German texts. Listeners not fluent in that language are left to wonder at the warm laughter that greets several of the narrator’s lines. In short, this set is not designed for an English-speaking market at all.
So far, it seems that the Candide curse continues: Bernstein’s masterly music sabotaged once more by bad decisions. Shockingly, the German readings are actually the best part of this dreadful live performance. Hadley’s voice is tired, thready, and wobbly. His performance is stiff and uninvolved–a classic phone-in job. Sylvia Koke (Cunegonde) is puzzling. In ensembles she sometimes shows a strong, steady high register, but when she invades ledger-line territory on her own she sounds shrill and desperate. This results in a bizarre “Glitter and be gay” wherein it is the coloratura passages that sound tortured and the minor-key verses that sound happier.
At least Koke and Hadley sound like they understand the English words they sing, which is not true of Raimund Nolte (Maximilian), Thomas Gazheli (Pangloss), or Marjana Lipovsek (Old Lady). To understand what they sing, you have to turn to the program book. Gazheli’s voice is pinched and unpleasant; Lipovsek evidently thinks it is funny to smear and screech her part.
The orchestral sound is well-focused and transparent–so much so that I could tell which individual players were at fault in the numerous moments of sloppy ensemble. Add conducting by David Stahl that too often starts at the expected tempo, only to sag, and you can see why this review is intended primarily as a warning: “Don’t even think of buying this.”
