It wasn’t very long ago that CD reissues of Erna Berger were hard to come by–but three have been released in the past year. I’d guess that’s more a coincidence than the result of a sudden boomlet of fans thirsting for more of a long-forgotten singer (outside of Germany, anyway). This Naxos disc, subtitled “A Vocal Portrait”, should satisfy not only Berger’s fans and vocal connoisseurs but also the merely curious since it covers a cross-section of her repertoire in 17 selections recorded in her prime between 1934 and 1949. Not that dates signify much with this singer, for she retained her vocal resources longer than most, as evidenced by a recent Orfeo release of a broadcast liederabend made when she was 62. (Type Q5865 in Search Reviews).
There’s some duplication here with the Berger disc in Decca’s The Singers series (type Q4873 in Search Reviews), but given Naxos’ price and Ward Marston’s superior transfers, it’s the one to get. Everything’s sung in German with the exception of an aria from Weber’s Ines de Castro. That means her Violetta, Madame Butterfly, and Mimi lack two essential Italianate components: the language and the idiomatic voice. Given that nature never intended Berger as a Verdi or Puccini heroine it’s surprising just how good she is in a sweet, affecting “Mi chiamano Mimi” and how listenable is her fragile Butterfly, except for her inability to swell the voice to fit the bigger phrases of “Un bel di”. Violetta’s big first-act scena from Traviata though, misses fire, the voice too small, too high, too northern to rise above the routine. Once you sit back, accept the translated texts as pre-1950 period authenticity, and go with the flow, you can appreciate the fluidity and ease of sections of those arias and all of Gilda’s “Caro nome”, along with Berger’s renditions of French arias from Bizet’s Pearlfishers and Auber’s Fra Diavolo. Her famous Queen of the Night is represented by two arias, one of which, “Der Hölle Rache”, derives from the Beecham recording. She’s too light-voiced and warmth-challenged to fully render “Martern aller Arten” from Mozart’s Abduction from the Seraglio, yet she does find the warmth to make “Letzte Rose” from Flotow’s Martha a thing of ravishing beauty.
Two 1934 selections from Johann Strauss’ Die Fledermaus and her 1949 “Frühlingsstimmen” top off the disc with foot-tapping delights. Adele’s “Spiel’ich die Unschuld vom Lande” from Fledermaus also suggests the importance of good transfers. When I heard it on the Decca set, I felt Berger was too heavy-handed; in Naxos’ superior transfer, I hear a smile in the voice and enjoy her singing. What struck me as a “thin, piping voice” on Decca now sounds fuller and far more natural. It’s very possible that today we can be more blasé about Berger’s ease with high-lying lyric roles because we have so many exponents of that repertoire, including some like Natalie Dessay who can perform remarkable technical feats while infusing characterization and warmth into their every trill.