Valery Gergiev’s visits to Wagner, at least on evidence of the Mariinsky’s world tour of the Ring a few years ago, have been scrappy and ill-judged. This Parsifal is different, and on the whole very successful. It runs four hours and 18 minutes, which, for those of us who keep score, is within two minutes of Knappertsbusch (1964), Solti (Decca), and Kubelik (Arts Archives), and nowhere near Levine’s turgid 4:39 or Thielemann’s let’s-get-this-over-with 3:53 (let alone Boulez’s 3:38). And Gergiev makes some very individual choices within.
The Transformation music in Act 1 is slower and heavier than I’ve ever heard it; the effect is one of great agony–very apt–and so is the ensuing Grail Scene. The Prelude to Act 3 is properly weary; the Good Friday music is luminescent and slow; and the whole final scene has a weightiness that makes it seem longer than it is. On the other hand, Parsifal’s entrance in Act 1 is almost precipitous, and the Flower Maidens rock onto the scene with real purpose. The languid Kundry/Parsifal scene strikes me as just right, going from languid to manic at just the right speed.
What I’m saying is that this recording, taken from live performances in June, 2009 in St. Petersburg, is marvelously theatrical, with the situations dictating tempo and flow. The spiritual moments glow in a way that is rarely achieved, and the Mariinsky Orchestra plays magnificently from start to finish.
Besides Gergiev’s leadership and the orchestra’s playing, the other crucial thing about this set is René Pape’s Gurnemanz. Hans Hotter fans will think he sounds too young; I disagree. The voice has weight and authority and enough flexibility to caress some phrases and create quite a grand effect with others. His attention never flags, and he looms over the proceedings as rightly he should; wisdom, piety, and justice never sounded this good. When he comes across Kundry again in Act 3 it’s quite an event.
If beyond Pape and Gergiev the set goes downhill, it doesn’t ever skid into an abyss. Violeta Urmana’s Kundry, like all of her work, is vocally remarkable: there’s not a weak spot in her voice, even in this difficult-to-cast part. But she misses the telling touches that define both Kundry’s seductiveness and her self-loathing. Gary Lehman’s Parsifal is a bit worn–he already has sung Tristan–but the voice is not unappealing and the slight beat in his tone can be overlooked. His attention to the text is more than worthy and he captures the wondrous quality in the role. He’s no Vickers, however, for sheer intensity, or Jerusalem for sheer tone.
If I had never heard George London’s agonized Amfortas or Martti Talvela’s Titural, I might have greater praise for Nikitin and Tanovitski; as it is they’re quite good, if only lacking in the greatest gravitas. Nikolai Putilin handles Klingsor’s weird music with great strength and an audible sneer. The chorus is good without entirely distinguishing itself, and the Flower Maidens range from luscious to, once or twice, frightful.
In summation, I would not do without this set for Gergiev and Pape, but if you own, say, the Kubelik (despite a weakish Kundry), that should suffice. But this one has both a theatricality and loftiness that are hard to beat. [9/15/2010]
