“For God’s Sake, Cecile, Don’t Tame Her!”

So far as I’ve discovered, we don’t know much about Mme. Gilly’s “method.” She apparently left no writings on vocal technique, and Lawrence’s own testimonials are generic. We do know, though, that Madame kept young Marjorie on scales and other exercise patterns for the better part of two years, and then moved to the detailed study and memorization of some dozen major roles, including their traditionally expected points of interpretation. Whatever Madame’s specific beliefs concerning registers, resonance, support, “position” or “placement,” etc. may have been, they resulted in an impressive solidification of the voice, which by the time of Lawrence’s series of French debuts was a bright, “open” dramatic soprano (no hint of  “covering” at the “secondo passaggio“) of, from all reports, considerable power. Notable is the evenly balanced connection at the lower end into a strong, clear, and musically viable chest voice.

The first of the four CDs in the GAV compilation is devoted to live material from Lawrence’s early prime. It opens with Act 1, Scene 3 of Die Walküre, which is to say from “Der Männer Sippe” to the end of the act, from the Met broadcast of Feb. 17, 1940. Brünnhilde had been Lawrence’s customary role in this opera, but she’d been persuaded to add Sieglinde to her repertory, singing it first in San Francisco, and now at the Met. And we might reflect for a moment on the Wagner soprano availabilities for the Met in the late 1930s. Frieda Leider and Florence Easton were recently gone, but Kirsten Flagstad had arrived one season ahead of Lawrence; the estimable Gertude Kappel was still active; Elisabeth Rethberg, Lehmann, and Irene Jessner were regulars in the Jugendlich parts, including Sieglinde; Anny Konetzni, the leading Hochdramatisch of the Vienna State Opera, had been brought in after Leider’s departure, but stayed only a single season, either not being renewed or getting the lay of the land; Gertrud Rünger was also around for one year; Rose Pauly, best known for her Elektra and Salome, was a Sieglinde as well; and Dorothee Manski was on hand as an alternate for any of these roles. There had been performances with Lawrence as Brūnnhilde and Flagstad as Sieglinde. Now, with Lehmann and (especially) Rethberg fading and Helen Traubel (standard rep debut, Dec. 28, 1939 as Sieglinde(I), but clearly headed for Brünnhildes and Isoldes) entering the scene, it certainly made management sense for Lawrence to take on the occasional Sieglinde.

This would be the best-sung Walküre I, 3 ever captured on records were it not for two others, the 1935 Vienna studio recording of the complete act and the NBC Symphony broadcast performance of Feb. 22, 1941. Melchior, without peer as Siegmund, is the constant among these three, and is in top form for all, the only differences being in his responses to the conductors (Bruno Walter with the VPO, Erich Leinsdorf with the Met’s, and Arturo Toscanini with the NBC) and, I think, to his Sieglindes (Lehmann, Lawrence, and Traubel, respectively). One can concede that Lehmann is the most personal and heart-tugging of all Sieglindes,  Walter the most sympathetic of conductors with the richest of Wagner orchestras (and best recorded of these three), that Traubel has an incomparably deep, broad, and beautiful tone in this music, and that Toscanini and his orchestra played with unequaled tautness and sharpness, all without being any less than thrilled by the sound of Lawrence and Melchior leaping and bounding their way through this great scene. From the opening lines of “Der Männer Sippe,” Lawrence’s big, thrusting sound, with its untroubled chest connection, its brilliant top, its sonorous subtonic consonants (“m,” “n”) and unveiled German diphthongs (“ei“) establish complete authority over the music. She and Melchior prod each other eagerly; he’s at his most mettlesome. Leinsdorf’s reading is pushy and rigid, without Walter’s feel for rubato and space for the expansion of tone and suppleness of line; in his defense, we can plead only that he does keep the scene moving, and that the Met orchestra sounds alert. But your attention will be on the singing most of the time, I think.

Footnotes

Footnotes
I “standard rep:” Traubel had previously made only a few appearances as Mary Rutledge in Damrosch’s The Man Without a Country.