I was surprised by reading In Varnay’s biography that though she thought very highly of Hotter, with whom she teamed for many a Bayreuth Ring and felt had been shabbily treated by Rudolph Bing, she found London the more persuasive Dutchman. And I admired him in the role in the theatre. He had compelling physical presence, his voice was of just the weight, size, and reach for the part, and his singing was always sturdy and focused. But this re-encounter with the recording has been disappointing. By this time (1960) his voice, though not yet compromised by illness, has narrowed and lost some of its roomy beauty. More importantly, his tendency to present his music as demonstrations of studied word formation and calculated interpretive decisions (not much of Hotter’s naturalness and spontaneity in these matters) is particularly in evidence here; he seems to never let go and just sing. The work is still to a very high standard, since the demonstrations are well done. But I did not feel myself caught up in the Dutchman’s fate, and as Wagner observed, there’s not much that can be done if that hasn’t happened.

Giorgio Tozzi is the Daland, as on many nights in the house. No doubt it can be said that his Italianate basso cantante sound is not quite the right one for this character—”too noble”—and I can concede the point if it’s Weber we’re speaking of. But what a handsome, generous voice this was (and it’s at its peak here), and what an alert, genial presence its owner. I find it hard to complain. Liebl’s pleasing tenor, on the lyric side of the Jugendlich category, tended to thin out rather badly above A-flat or so—that high B-flat phrase, and some others, too, pretty well receded from earshot in the auditorium. But he was knowledgeable in the style, sang a respectable line, and the recording helps him out, so his Erik is entirely enjoyable.

These recordings, quite different artistically and technically, boasted top-echelon casts in their day. That echelon has long since scrolled from view.

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I know I promised a bibliography. But looking back through both parts of this article, I see that all the references self-identify, with the conceivable exception of Wagner’s own essay, “Acting: Performing the ‘Flying Dutchman.'” It has appeared in many English-language versions. I have taken it from Albert Goldman and Evert Sprinchorn’s Wagner on Music and Drama, H. Ashton Ellis, trans., E. P. Dutton, 1964.

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NEXT TIME: My next post will appear in four weeks, not three. This is owing in part to the unusual scheduling of this two-part post in a single week, and in part to the difficult conditions prevailing during the pandemic. But it is also due to the beginning of my work on an exciting collaboration with Marston Recordings, namely a multi-CD release of the complete run of the RCA Victor recordings of Lawrence Tibbett, regarded by some as America’s greatest singing actor, and by any measure one of the important baritones of the 20th Century. I’ll be writing annotations for this project, and the research and listening entailed will be a time-and-energy-absorbing task for the next two or three months. I’ll announce more about this as we get closer to a release date. The subject of my next post is also still up in the air, since the situation is still so fluid, but there are some delicious possibilities. What they finally come down to will emerge on May 8, and I’ll try to give you a heads-up.

And a warning: Since the hour is very late and I am already past my deadline, I am releasing this post without a final proof-reading. I’ll get to that, but meanwhile feel free to inform me of gaffes.