Few tenors can deliver Tamino’s “Die Bildnis” from The Magic Flute with stylish elegance, manage Meyerbeerian coloratura, and also excel in killer Wagnerian roles such as Siegfried. Fewer still manage it with the stunning excellence of Jacques Urlus (1867-1935), a Dutch tenor who was the reigning heldentenor in the days before Melchior. My first brush with Urlus came years ago, from an old Rubini LP in which his rendition of “O Paradiso” from Meyerbeer’s L’Africaine captured the wondrous rapture of that aria like none before (or since). Since then I’ve wondered why the historical recordings labels haven’t given him the full treatment, with comprehensive, well-transferred and annotated sets encompassing his recorded legacy. Failing that, I’ll settle for this CD from Preiser sampling his prime years–between 1907 and 1912–with two tracks from 1924 that show the 57-year-old singer’s ample voice and artistry undimmed. At times, the voice itself is uncannily like Melchior’s in timbre, but within moments it asserts its complete individuality–less baritonal, with an ample top that just misses Melchior’s “ping”.
Everything here is sung in German, but with such artistry that Otello’s “niun me tema” and Radames’ “Celeste, Aida” suffer not a whit. Even when Eleazer’s “Rachel, quand du Seigneur” from Halévy’s La Juive becomes “Recha, als Gott dich einst,” Urlus overcomes the substitution of guttural effects for liquid vowels with such feeling, legato phrasing, and declamatory power that you can’t object. We hear a similar sensitivity to style in his singing of Don Jose’s “Flower Song” from Carmen, delivered with lovely legato and a slowly broadening tone that fills out during the aria without ever becoming overheated in the modern manner.
A big chunk of the disc is appropriately devoted to Wagner, where Urlus’ bel canto approach strongly contrasts with the “Bayreuth Bark” style of Wagnerian singing that was then becoming entrenched. Among the Wagnerian highlights here are Urlus’ sensitive “mein lieber Schwan” and finely detailed “In fernem land” from Lohengrin, his Walküre and Gotterdämmerung arias, and a rousing yet elegantly phrased Rienzi “erstehe, hohe Roma, neu.” It’s easy to see why he was revered as the Wagner tenor of his day. By the way, that “O Paradiso” isn’t on the disc. Here’s hoping that Preiser’s saving it for a second volume of one of the authentic tenor greats of the last century.
