San Francisco Classical Voice

"Arabella" in a Splendid Performance
September 12, 1998

Richard Strauss' "Arabella" suffers from a peculiar disease: the composer at war with the librettist; even in a fine performance by the San Francisco Opera on September 12, this comes through. Intended at first to be a delightful comedy in the manner of an operetta, and created to order by the poet, all light and teeming with farce, "Arabella," under the ambitious pen of its composer, ended up as an over-written drama of heavy-breathing sentiment.

In 1927 Strauss had made a final attempt to return to the glory of "Der Rosenkavalier"; he begged his librettist, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, to create something frothy, Viennese and gay. These two giants of 20th century German opera had recently risen from the moody depths of "Die Frau ohne Schatten" and "Die aegyptische Helena"; and Strauss sought an antidote to mythic symbolism and fantasy. "Arabella" was the result, more than twenty years after their Rosenkavalier masterpiece. Hofmannsthal was successful in picturing Vienna of the mid-nineteenth century, but he died before the music was finished. Strauss, perhaps unable to help himself, colored that world with something other than whipped cream and gaiety

The San Francisco Opera's performance was almost ideal, musically an exemplary production. Rarely has the orchestra sounded better; the conducting of Donald Runnicles was a model of clarity and passion. For all the bustle of rumbling strings and rambunctious brass Runnicles kept his tight control over the balance between the pit and the stage. One could hear musical lines usually lost in the passion of the moment. The opening music to Act I which usually dominates the singers in busy sound was kept carefully under the voices, yet it still held its exciting, breathless character. When Runnicles allowed the orchestra to soar in ecstasy it was breathtaking.

The soloists were simply wonderful. Franz Grundheber, making his debut with the company, was excellent as the hero, Mandryka. He conveyed every nuance of a country landowner loose in the big city, shy and enthusiastic, but suspicious of Viennese duplicity. Observe the way he first confronts the love of his life, Arabella, at the ball; suddenly too embarrassed to look at her he held his polite head bowed for longer than necessary. At first glance it seemed too contrived, but Grundheber pulled it off. Even in silence and stillness there was power -- a character trying desperately to control his over-eager emotions. His acting was totally artful and true; one believed him in every instance.

Janice Watson (Arabella) was beautiful, accurate, a bit glacial as the heroine (her voice sometimes drowned out by Strauss). She has the best music in the opera, and made the memorable aria that ends Act I a triumph of music and feeling. When her voice soars in the upper registers she brings the listener to the threshold of Schwarzkopf in her prime. Her younger sister, Zdenka, was sung by Mary Mills; she was superb as well. Strauss saw her role as more forthright than Arabella's. Disguised by her parents as a boy to save money -- an impersonation she is frequently in agreement with -- she has intense feelings for the tenor Matteo (though he thinks he loves Arabella). Her desire and frustration are beautifully painted by the composer. Her music is often more dramatically persuasive than that of her older sister's, and at times she was better at singing it.

The sisters' parents were just fine; Judith Forst as their mother and Donald McIntyre in his long overdue debut here as their father could teach the younger members of the cast something about the special art of character acting. They don't have tunes, but they do have well-written personalities to portray. The tenor lover, David Kuebler was letter-perfect in the comic role as the whining Matteo, someone to despise but still feel sorry for. Laura Claycomb as the flirtatious Fiakermilli had all the glitter of a vacuous coloratura and she was swell. The three Counts who continually pursue Arabella were equally well cast by younger members of the company (Stuart Skelton, Jochen Schmeckenbecher and John Autry); the discreet direction of David Edwards gave all of these characters shape and significance.

It must be admitted that, at times, the comic spirit of "Arabella" vanished in emotional sludge. In Acts II and III momentum became sluggish when it could have taken off into the spritz of Viennese operetta. Either the action became wacky as Mandryka fell into self-indulgent jealousy, or it became torpid in all that talk about duels in Act III. No matter what clever blocking the director thought up, he could not cover the dead spots.

Further, sentiment settled in and clogged the works. Who is at fault? One senses the heavy hand of Richard Strauss at work. Clever farce animates the plot in Act III, but his musical imagination responded rather to nobility and earnestness and a rather boring innocence (all delineated in an over-active orchestra). This holds things up. There's so much going on (think also of the wild and vulgar music that begins the act) one wishes for the shallower hand of Johann Strauss to pitch in and empty the score of all that busy rhetoric.

So it isn't an operetta and it isn't "Der Rosenkavalier." Thanks to such an impressive production however, "Arabella" soars as an expression of late Straussian romanticism. The wonderful love duet at the beginning of Act II is worth whatever disappointments follow. The cast took a well-deserved bow and the audience was very appreciative. What was particularly splendid came at the very end: the acknowledgment given by Runnicles to the most underrated figure in the entire world of opera, the prompter. He bent over and extended his hand to Philip Eisenberg, buried in his box at the foot of the stage.

(Marvin Tartak, who twice worked as a rehearsal pianist with the S. F. Opera [1973 and 1983], teaches a course in Opera at City College of San Francisco. He has written program notes for the San Francisco Symphony and Opera, has also has edited two volumes of Rossini for the Fondazione Rossini, and is soon to embark on a third.)

©1998 Marvin Tartak, all rights reserved