"Lovers of Wagnerian opera have long admired the singing of Friedrich Schorr as Hans Sachs, the central role in 'Die Meistersinger', as heard in his famed 78rpm recordings and wondered what he would do with the complete role. Fortunately, a recording of a complete performance on stage at the Metropolitan Opera survived from the broadcast of 1936. And while it has less than good sound, it is sufficient to communicate why Schorr was world famous for his portrayal. What makes Schorr's singing of Hans Sachs so memorable? Other singers have conveyed a rich, warm intelligence in this role. Hans Hotter in the 1949 Munich performance, and one or another famous baritone such as Bocklemann, Nissen and Janssen, have suggested something of the humanity of this memorable character; yet only Schorr communicates the essential nobility of Hans Sachs that makes this personage equal to the sublime eloquence of the music and the elevation of Wagner's conception. As a result, what Wagner's genius really gave us in this score shines through, bringing this huge opera to glowing life around a person fit to live in the memory of the human race for all these centuries.
"Nobility in a person is rare enough in human existence to make a profound impression on the lives and spirit of those fortunate enough to recognize it. Nobility, it seems to me, means that state of being or color of character which results from a constant association and service to high principles. No meanness of spirit, no hidden self-concerns or crafty motives for status or comfort, wealth or pleasure, shadow this radiant benevolence. The character of such a person has an unmistakable and unforgettable tone of elevation, resulting from a loftiness of relationship to circumstances which most others warp to personal uses, disguise the action in claims of principle as they may. This state of being, when encountered, puts events into a different focus, and we see that it is possible to live an epic and poetical life even amidst ordinary circumstances. We see, too, that a certain innate grandeur of tone begins to color the attitude and actions of such a person, setting them apart from most others. Indeed, this is the only true royalty, one not composed of titles or crowns or kingdoms. Tone reveals all.
"All this is exactly what distinguishes Schorr’s expression of Hans Sachs. His tone radiates a rich, warm, wise humanity that glows from every note. Such a quality can never be assumed or copied; it results from the integrity of the person. Schorr’s voice, expressed in song, composed of a lyrical, buoyant, poetical colour, seems to endow Hans Sachs with a plenitude of innate powers, confirming in every moment how he came to occupy the position he does in Nuremberg, and in our hearts.
"It is this essential nobility, coupled with indomitable strength, which made Schorr the Wotan of all time, but worked against him as Gunther or Faninal. This same quality also set up fascinating conflicts when he sang the villainous Pizarro in Fidelio to Flagstad’s Leonore. No such conflict exists in Schort’s evocation of Hans Sachs, for here his eloquence of utterance, musicality of spirit, tenderness of expression and grandeur of vision, joined to Wagner's text and music, yield a profound character study of unforgettable stature; here is a representative man in the best sense.
"One of the most memorable aspects of Schorr’s singing was his ravishing mezza-voce. This brought to his powerful and rich tone intimations of a tenderness which lent dimension to the innate strength of his voice. The one single fault in his singing, which became progressively evident, was a certain growing weakness in the upper register. This caused him to break on certain notes, as can be heard in the 1936 and 1940 Walküre and in various moments of Meistersinger.
"Something like this difficulty likely caused one of the great losses in recording history, for Toscanini had engaged Schorr to sing Hans Sachs under his direction at the 1937 Salzburg Festivals after conducting Schorr (and Elisabeth Rethberg) in the Brahms Requiem in a New York Philharmonic concert. Apparently, Schorr’s voice did not sustain him in some way at rehearsals. He was obviously going through a bad patch. Toscanini stated 'I’m worried about Schorr [...] he’s hoarse and breathless on the high notes [...] when I called on him to sing full voice like the others, he said he had a cold. Of course, the management has begun to search around for the few available replacements. Let's hope for the best.” Eventually Schorr was replaced with Nissen. Schorr agreed to withdraw under claim of illness. This was a tremendous loss and I think, perhaps, a great mistake was made. It may be that Nissen’s singing was stronger in certain notes but what a world of wit and wisdom, warmth and nobility Schorr could have given us as complete compensation for these difficulties. Many other singers have negotiated all the notes of this role with no problem whatsoever, but their performances were routine, lacking in those essential qualities of elevated spirit that Schorr, above all others, embodied.
"To hear Schorr sing 'Wahn! Wahn!' or, indeed, every line of Act III, is to hear expression that is immortal in every element. His singing of this particular music, both in his well-known 78s, and in this broadcast performance, brings us the consummate perfection of Schorr’s art, for here Schorr is the very embodiment of benevolent wisdom, as he muses upon the insanity of misrelationships which disfigure the potential beauty of mankind. Sachs endeavors to make sense of why men 'strive and fight, in fruitless rage and spite. What do they gain?' Sachs' contemplation touches us deeply because his grave, sorrowing concerns, the underlying resignation which colors his thoughts with sadness, reflect something that is inestimable in human nature — the large-spirited, warm-hearted nobility of a man concerned not with himself, nor with this or that personal event, but with the pandemonious inclination of human beings everywhere to war with each other. These considerations are floated in a tender reverie in Sachs' Act III Monologue, 'Wahn! Wahn!', as he recollects the absolute absurdity and folly at the heart of the previous night's riot.
"Such considerations as we hear in this passage pale in the expression of an ordinary singer, as they would in the statements of a man whose life, as lived, does not support his philosophy, thus the tone he takes reflects a self-inflated pose that is embarrassing. For this reason, singers with ordinary voices who sing Sachs' role, diminish or obscure the true poetry and profundity of meaning that make the 'Wahn' monologue into an elegiac life-song in which we see and hear, with eager recognition and relief, a truly representative man. Singers like Edelmann, Wiener, Schöffler and others may have good voices, but they lack the special color, timbre and tone which mark the truly great, thus the ordinariness of their expression reduces true eloquence to rhetoric. Even a great singer like Hans Herman Nissen, deeply identified with the role of Hans Sachs, lacked the dignity, warmth, intimacy of tone, humor and poetry we hear from Schorr; Nissen’s wisdom is fit for municipal celebrations and friends but doesn’t speak out over the ages to all of us.
"Only a few truly great voices are, by virtue of certain unique qualities, capable of being instrumental to all that is profound and noble in our highest arts. Clearly, Hans Sachs, in medieval Nuremberg, contemplating the universal insanity of humanity pitting one aspect against the other, could as well offer his warmly toned concerns today as in any other era, but we would suffer few among us to tell us so. In 'Wahn! Wahn!' listen to Schorr change the tone of his indictment of the previous night's strife to ironical humor, without a trace of bitterness or self-righteousness, as he sings 'Gott weiss, das geschah' ('God knows how this befell'), floating his contemplation in a tone of warm-hearted amusement, while the marvelous strains of Midsummer's Eve engulf one with the tender beauty of life. Here Sachs perceives that no world evil was at the base of it all, only some 'glow worm that could not find his mate.' He sees that it is for inconsequentials that we bait and fight each other, some scrap of importance, some bauble or glittering image which yields nothing to the spirit or the communal life into which we are all set. Would it were that we could hold the view of our idiocies like a bubble of laughter in our mouths, as Schorr's Hans Sachs teaches us to do, and turn all this madness 'to serve for noble works.'
"It is because Schorr, in his voice, tone and temperament, so personifies Sachs, that his lyricism can clasp wings on these considerations and lift us to the same philosophical elevation, above the despair of human enmity, to feel, as Wagner's inspiration means us to feel, the human capacity to become superior to circumstances. Wagner, speaking through such a Sachs as Friedrich Schorr, teaches us the sweetness, not of tolerance but of an innate compassion which is strength and tenderness combined, a poetic sweetness-of-being which reminds one of the magic of Midsummer's Eve’s melody at the end of Act II and its reprise in 'Wahn, Wahn'.
"These same qualities pervade much of Schorr's singing in this opera. Consider the delicate poetry of tone with which Schorr commences his Fliedermonolog, so utterly in keeping with the charm which the Elder tree's fragrance throws upon him. Schorr mixes this tone into his contemplations of the poetry he heard from Walther in the previous Act, so that the enspelling creativity of Spring is mixed with the innate musicality and involuntary originality that he sensed in the young man's expression, surrounding Sachs with fragrant reminiscences. The tone that Schorr gives Hans Sachs is truly poetical, yet this is not the ardent rapture of a young man buta restrained, musing, grave, subtle sound in which one can feel the profundity of Sachs' character, just as one would experience depth in certain persons in ordinary life — not by some accrual of facts, nor the conceptual claims they make, nor by the books they've read, but by the tone they take. This, alone, communicates whether we have before us intellectual pose, or the image of deep content rather than the reality itself. This truth is communicated instantaneously, and though we might be unable to explain the grounds for our trust, we are ready to rely on this rare reality at once. Schorr exudes this depth in the very timbre of his voice — it is hued innately with ennobled character — so that the Fliedermonolog focuses us upon Sachs in a depth we are never thenceforth to lose. He is the person whom all eyes follow, one of those rare personages given us through the miracle of great art who stands for a real human being amidst countless thousands of half-asleep, half-alive persons.
"Schorr’s singing in the Fliedermonolog finds him savoring the poetical ideal which is at the secret heart of Walther's words and music. This subtle rapture puts a special magic on Sachs' tender and evocative 'Nun sang er, wie er musst' ('He sang because he must'), which reflects, in the way Schorr sings it, not only his admiration for the freedom and inevitability of Walther’s song-filled expression, but a profound savoring of the beautiful necessity which underlies all the true poetry that issues from the human heart. Sachs’ sense of a higher law governing all the music, one which is deeply related to living, is the source of his germinal awareness that the rules of the Meistersingers are atrophying the true spirit of songfulness; this is what he recognized in their rejection of Walther, and this is what will flower eventually into his whole-hearted support of the young man's inspiring and poetical vision.
"Through Schorr's profound art, all that is ennobling in Wagner's sublime music and text comes through and takes its true stature. And while we would have preferred to hear Schorr within the context of Toscanini's triumphant recreation of the score, there is much in power and poetry here to provide a fitting musical context for Schorr’s incomparable portrayal.
"The joy we take in this preservation is doubled by the fact that we are finally enabled to hear Elisabeth Rethberg's Eva. Her lovely tone in this music, particularly in her ecstatic phrasing in Act II before and during the 'Schusterlied' Scene, or in the scenes she has with Sachs, is something to cherish. Her phrasing in the Act III Quintet does not surpass that of Elisabeth Schumann, who remains the finest on record, nor does she imbue this music with her special personality, as does Lotte Lehmann. Nevertheless, Rethberg's intonation, her special intensity, refinement of expression and emotional warmth makes for a portrayal of Eva that will linger in your memory. So many of the passages she sings are ravishing in their beauty of phrase and ecstatic tone. For instance, when she discovers Walther after she leaves Sachs in Act II, the enthrallment in her tone, the soaring range of her singing of 'Ja ihr seid es' and all the following lines, have no parallel in any of the other performances I've ever heard. I refer in particular to the lines 'Nicht eh'r, bis ich sah den theuersten Mann!' or everything she sings in this stanza, or her sustained tone, so ineffably touching in her parting words, 'Dem Meistergericht'.
"For these two, Schorr and Rethberg, I prefer this Elisabeth Rethberg as Eva performance, though it's in far lesser sonics than the marvelous reproduction of the 1939 Meistersinger with Schorr and Jessner. Both Schorr and Rethberg are in the voice we associate with them in these roles from the 78rpm disc they made together of the 'Footstool duet Sieh' Ev'chen! Dacht'ich doch'. Ever since hearing that record in the 1940s, I've yearned to hear a complete performance with these two artists. Now, here it is.
"Lawrence Gilman, music critic of the New York Herald Tribune, celebrated 'the limpid and solacing beauty of Madame Rethberg's voice in Meistersinger,' writing of Rethberg's 'sense of the shape and balance of phrases' as well as 'her delicate instinct for line and cadence and proportion.' Out of these elements emerges an Eva who is not simply a lovely maiden, touched with an affection for Sachs she even imagines to be love, but one capable of a much different passion for Walther. Hers is a spirit which soars with such feminine intensity that many of Eva's lines shine with a glowing beauty.
Rene Maison as Walther is better, perhaps, in this role than in anything else preserved from his seasons at the Met, with the capital exception of Loge in Das Rheingold in which he is unsurpassable. This Belgian tenor, born in 1895, made his Metropolitan Opera debut just a few weeks previously in this same role with a nearly identical cast. The timbre of his voice has a certain bleating quality to it which deducts from one’s esteem of his singing but he certainly manages to convey a lyricism and poetry not untouched with virility, which makes for a convincing and quite musical portrayal.
"Eduard Habich, world famed for his portrayal of Alberich, is heard here as Beckmesser, making of this narrow-minded character a believable figure whose outlook and nature avoid caricature. Habich gives us a Beckmesser who is unaware of the comical aspects of his expression (especially in his endeavor to sing his serenade to Eva in the second act) and who is even touching in his earnestness. Interestingly, Habich never reminds one of his memorable Alberich in Rheingold despite his unmistakable voice, and the fact that Alberich and Beckmesser share a tone of cramped injury and rage, thus the two portrayals could easily have struck similarities. Instead, he has reshaped his tonal approach so as to fit it naturally into the utterly different world of medieval Nuremberg. His is a portrayal fit to be heard amidst such vocal luminaries as Schorr and Rethberg, remaining in the memory and enlarging in stature with each hearing.
"Emanuel List is heard as Pogner, and while his recognizable voice is welcome, he is in rather poor vocal condition; indeed, his singing in Act I is the worst ever heard from him in Met broadcasts. Fortunately, he recovers sufficiently to not make a trial of Acts II & III. Of course, every singer, no matter how great, can have a bad night, though not too often does he or she have it broadcast nationally and preserved on transcription discs.
"Karin Branzell is an attractive Magdalene, sprightly and rich-toned. Hans Clemens is less ingratiating, given that his tone often takes on an unattractive nasal bleat, but he is lively and convincing. These last words particularly apply to the Met chorus, which is vitally involved in all that transpires. It is enormously effective in responding to Beckmesser's endeavor to sing the lyrics of Walther's lied in Act II. The confusion and consternation heard from the crowd, which finally gives way to gradations of laughter culminating in a crescendo of hilarity is marvelously authentic and convincing. This, then, is yet another of the many virtues of this performance. Also to be relished is much of Bodanzky’s leadership of the orchestra, though not his confused, lopsided essayal of the complex ensemble that ends Act I, nor the infamous cuts for which he was so notorious.
"Opera lovers came to learn of the existence of a recording of a complete performance of 'Die Meistersinger' with Schorr in Paul Jackson's fascinating book 'Saturday Afternoons at the Old Met'. Professor Jackson was auditioning a private preservation issued by Edward J. Smith that is extremely miniscule, poor-sounding, tinny, and swamped in surface noise. Nevertheless, these problems did not prevent him from hearing the glories of the performance:
"'In company with Chaliapin's Boris, Richard Mayr's Baron Ochs and Pinza's Don Giovanni, Schort's a Sachs is one of the unmatched pontcayals of the century [...] sublime is the word.'
"The better-sounding recording presented here further verifies Paul Jackson's estimate. There are occasions when Schorr's voice turns hollow or he negotiates one or another note with difficulty, but this is no more than a few minor blemishes on a magnificent painting.
"Given this greatness of characterization and voice, 'Die Meistersinger' seems to be irradiated throughout with a warm sunlight and, in the finale to Act II, a magical moonlight, still reflecting the now-hidden sun, casting its spell over the darkened houses of medieval Nuremberg. Wagner has brought this world to poetical life with its guilds and Summer Song Festival. Lawrence Gilman considered 'Die Meistersinger' to possess many dimensions:
"'[...] profound and blithe, tranquil and poignant, homespun and magical. For in this huge and bountiful piece, tragedy is masked by a deep and comprehending humanity that fills up one’s sense with the greatness of the human spirit.'
"For Gilman, as for myself, Friedrich Schorr, above all others, communicated this inspiring quality, suffusing great knowledge with tenderness; a figure touched with a quiet humor and characterized by a love of the old, enlarged by an openness of heart to the new. Gilman’s evocative writing has its chief focus on the music-drama's central personage, Hans Sachs:
"'What a character Wagner has given us here! — this poet, dreamer, man of sorrows: this tragedian who has mastered his grief and does not take too seriously his resignation; who is mellow without softness, noble without offensiveness [...] a man of infinite charm — magnetic, lovable, fine-fibred, yet homespun; a being of fathomless tenderness.'
"Gilman continues:
"'For some, this is the most endearing of all scores, and deep is the happiness of those who are so fortunate as to hear 'Die Meistersinger' revealingly performed as, at the Metropolitan, with the sage, mellowed and glowing Sachs of Friederich Schorr; probably the finest embodiment of the character that is now to be seen in any lyric theater.'
"Harold Schonberg, New York Times music critic, recalled, in his article 'Backward Times' (1994):
"'For 'Meistersinger' there was a Sachs of Schorr and Eva of Rethberg. They set standards for all time in those roles. Schorr had a noble bearing and a kind of wisdom and humanity in his singing that nobody else in my time has been able to duplicate. Rethberg’s silvery voice, so perfectly placed, so easily produced, imbued with an older tradition, so intense and, at the same time, vocally relaxed, was unique.
"Schorr's recordings in the studio, and broadcast from the stage, corroborate this estimate, making unimportant the very few occasions when Schorr cannot adequately manage a particular note. What matter, when this great artist provides the vocal equivalent of the Hans Sachs we imagine? The few 78rpm commercial recordings illuminate much that was unforgettable in Schorr's portrayal but the fullest corroboration comes from hearing this broadcast in 1936. And while Schorr gives us the stature, tenderness and nobility of this human character, his portrayal draws dimension from its setting, not only in Wagner's music, but in the voices of Rethberg and Maison and the milieu that Wagner's music brings to life.
"Even in those performances in which the vocal forces convey mundane conceptions, still the greatness of the music enfolds them with its magic. And while music lovers especially esteem one or another part of the score, everyone I've ever known agrees that the conclusion of Act II is the most sublime. Of this Gilman writes:
"'At the close of the second act, as the rioters disperse and the tumult dies down, and the doors are closed and the lights put out, leaving the stage quite empty and dark, the Night Watchman arrives on the scene with his lantern and his ox-horn, rubbing his eyes, singing his quavery call. Then we see the moon rise above all Nuremberg, sleeping in the heart of a forgotten but recovered century, while the murmuring orchestra reminds us of the brooding enchantment of the summer night. Once again, we realize that there is nothing in music to set beside this lovable masterwork, with its beauty and serene philosophy, its delicate, exact recapturing of the hue and fragrance of a vanished day, its perfect veracity and transcendent art.'
"There have been many savourable performances of this masterwork, many of which offer sonics that do justice to Wagner's enchanting music. These belong on the music lover's shelf even in those instances where the portrayal of its central character lacks those memorable qualities which recall the singer's voice whenever we think back upon the music. Yet space must be made on the shelf of any significant collection for this sonically cramped, sometimes noisy preservation, one that may predominate over many hi-fi recordings with a different kind of fidelity. This performance, narrowed in its aural scope, stems from a time when technology was just beginning to assemble its capacities and prospects, delivering to us, 67 years later, these glowing and unforgettable portrayals, taking its place as one of the chief treasures of its era, and even, perhaps, of any age." (Richard Caniell. From the liner notes.)
Performers: Orchestra and Chorus of the Metropolitan Opera, Artur Bodanzky, Friedrich Schorr, Elisabeth Rethberg, Rene Maison, Karin Branzell, Emanuel List
1.1. Vorspiel
1.2. Aufzug I, Szene I: 'Dazu Dir Der Heiland Kam'
1.3. Aufzug I, Szene I: 'Verweilt! Ein Wort'
1.4. Aufzug I, Szene I: 'Da Wär Der Ritter Ja Am Rechten Ort'
1.5. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'David, Was Stehst?'
1.6. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'Mein Herr! Der Singer Meister-Schlag'
1.7. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'Der Meister Tön' Und Weisen'
1.8. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'Aller End' Ist Doch David Der Allergescheit 'st'
1.9. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Seid Meiner Treue Wohl Versehen'
1.10. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Gott Grüß' Euch, Meister!'
1.11. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Beliebt's, Wir Schreiten Zur Merkerwahl?'
1.12. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Das Nenn' Ich Ein Wort'
1.13. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Verzeiht! Vielleicht Schon Ginget Ihr Zu Weit'
1.14. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Wohl, Meister! Zur Tagesordnung Kehrt'
1.15. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Am Stillen Herd In Winterzeit'
1.16. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Nun, Meister, Wenn's Gefällt'
1.17. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Was Euch Zum Liede Richt' Und Schnur'
1.18. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Fanget An!'
1.19. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Seid Ihr Nun Fertig?'
1.20. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Halt Meister! Nicht So Geeilt!'
1.21. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Doch Wird's Wohl Jetzt Mir Kund''
1.22. Broadcast Commentary
2.1. Aufzug II: 'Johanistag! Johanistag!'
2.2. Aufzug II: 'Was Gibt's? Treff Ich Dich Wieder Am Schlag?'
2.3. Aufzug II: 'Nicht Doch, 's Ist Mild Und Labend'
2.4. Aufzug II: 'Was Duftet Doch Der Flieder'
2.5. Aufzug II: 'Gut'n Abend Meister!'
2.6. Aufzug II: 'Könnt's Einem Wittwer Nich Gelingen?'
2.7. Aufzug II: 'Das Dacht' Ich Wohl'
2.8. Aufzug II: 'Da Ist Er!'
2.9. Aufzug II: 'Hört, Ihr Leut', Und Lasst Euch Sagen'
2.10. Aufzug II: 'Jerum! Jerum!'
2.11. Aufzug II: 'Mich Schmertzt Das Lied'
2.12. Aufzug II: 'Den Tag Seh' Ich Erscheinen'
2.13. Aufzug II: 'Zum Teufel Mit Dir Verdammte Gesell'!'
2.14. Broadcast Commentary
3.1. Aufzug III: Vorspiel
3.2. Aufzug III, Szene I: 'Gleich! Meister! Hier!'
3.3. Aufzug III, Szene I: 'Blumen Und Bänder Seh' Ich Dort!'
3.4. Aufzug III, Szene I: 'Wahn! Wahn! Überall Wahn!'
3.5. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Grüß Gott, Mein Junker'
3.6. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Mein Freund! In Holder Jugendzeit'
3.7. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Morgenlich Leuchtend In Rosigen Schein'
3.8. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Das Nenn' Ich Mir Einen Abgesang!'
3.9. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Ein Werbelied! Von Sachs? - Ist's Wahr'
3.10. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Sieh Da! Herr Schreiber? Auch Am Morgen'
3.11. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Das Gedicht? Hier Liess Ich's'
3.12. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'So Ganz Boshaft Doch Keinen Ich Fand'
3.13. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Säng' Mir Nur Wenigstens Einer Dazu!'
3.14. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'O Sachs! Mein Freund! Du Theurer Mann!'
3.15. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Mein Kind: Von Tristan Und Isolde'
3.16. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Die Selige Morgentraumdeut-Weise'
3.17. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Sankt Crispin, Lobet Ihn'
3.18. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Als Nürnberg Belagert War'
3.19. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Hungersnoth! Hungersnoth!'
4.1. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Ihr Tanzt?'
4.2. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Die Meistersinger! Die Meistersinger!'
4.3. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Wach' Auf, Es Nahet Gen Den Tag'
4.4. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Euch Macht Ihr's Leichet'
4.5. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'O Sachs! Mein Freund!'
4.6. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Morgen Ich Leuchte In Rosigen Schein'
4.7. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Heimlich Mir Graut'
4.8. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Morgenlich Leuchtend In Rosigen Schein'
4.9. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Der Zeugen, Denk' Es, Wählt Ich Gut'
4.10. Broadcast Commentary
4.11. Aufzug II: 'Was Duftet Doch Der Flieder'
4.12. Aufzug III: 'Wahn! Wahn!'
4.13. 'Abendlich Glühend'
4.14. 'Sieh' Evchen!'
4.15. 'Aha! Streicht Die Lene'
4.16. 'Selig, Wie Die Sonne Meine Glückes Lacht'
flac/16-bit
"All this is exactly what distinguishes Schorr’s expression of Hans Sachs. His tone radiates a rich, warm, wise humanity that glows from every note. Such a quality can never be assumed or copied; it results from the integrity of the person. Schorr’s voice, expressed in song, composed of a lyrical, buoyant, poetical colour, seems to endow Hans Sachs with a plenitude of innate powers, confirming in every moment how he came to occupy the position he does in Nuremberg, and in our hearts.
"It is this essential nobility, coupled with indomitable strength, which made Schorr the Wotan of all time, but worked against him as Gunther or Faninal. This same quality also set up fascinating conflicts when he sang the villainous Pizarro in Fidelio to Flagstad’s Leonore. No such conflict exists in Schort’s evocation of Hans Sachs, for here his eloquence of utterance, musicality of spirit, tenderness of expression and grandeur of vision, joined to Wagner's text and music, yield a profound character study of unforgettable stature; here is a representative man in the best sense.
"One of the most memorable aspects of Schorr’s singing was his ravishing mezza-voce. This brought to his powerful and rich tone intimations of a tenderness which lent dimension to the innate strength of his voice. The one single fault in his singing, which became progressively evident, was a certain growing weakness in the upper register. This caused him to break on certain notes, as can be heard in the 1936 and 1940 Walküre and in various moments of Meistersinger.
"Something like this difficulty likely caused one of the great losses in recording history, for Toscanini had engaged Schorr to sing Hans Sachs under his direction at the 1937 Salzburg Festivals after conducting Schorr (and Elisabeth Rethberg) in the Brahms Requiem in a New York Philharmonic concert. Apparently, Schorr’s voice did not sustain him in some way at rehearsals. He was obviously going through a bad patch. Toscanini stated 'I’m worried about Schorr [...] he’s hoarse and breathless on the high notes [...] when I called on him to sing full voice like the others, he said he had a cold. Of course, the management has begun to search around for the few available replacements. Let's hope for the best.” Eventually Schorr was replaced with Nissen. Schorr agreed to withdraw under claim of illness. This was a tremendous loss and I think, perhaps, a great mistake was made. It may be that Nissen’s singing was stronger in certain notes but what a world of wit and wisdom, warmth and nobility Schorr could have given us as complete compensation for these difficulties. Many other singers have negotiated all the notes of this role with no problem whatsoever, but their performances were routine, lacking in those essential qualities of elevated spirit that Schorr, above all others, embodied.
"To hear Schorr sing 'Wahn! Wahn!' or, indeed, every line of Act III, is to hear expression that is immortal in every element. His singing of this particular music, both in his well-known 78s, and in this broadcast performance, brings us the consummate perfection of Schorr’s art, for here Schorr is the very embodiment of benevolent wisdom, as he muses upon the insanity of misrelationships which disfigure the potential beauty of mankind. Sachs endeavors to make sense of why men 'strive and fight, in fruitless rage and spite. What do they gain?' Sachs' contemplation touches us deeply because his grave, sorrowing concerns, the underlying resignation which colors his thoughts with sadness, reflect something that is inestimable in human nature — the large-spirited, warm-hearted nobility of a man concerned not with himself, nor with this or that personal event, but with the pandemonious inclination of human beings everywhere to war with each other. These considerations are floated in a tender reverie in Sachs' Act III Monologue, 'Wahn! Wahn!', as he recollects the absolute absurdity and folly at the heart of the previous night's riot.
"Such considerations as we hear in this passage pale in the expression of an ordinary singer, as they would in the statements of a man whose life, as lived, does not support his philosophy, thus the tone he takes reflects a self-inflated pose that is embarrassing. For this reason, singers with ordinary voices who sing Sachs' role, diminish or obscure the true poetry and profundity of meaning that make the 'Wahn' monologue into an elegiac life-song in which we see and hear, with eager recognition and relief, a truly representative man. Singers like Edelmann, Wiener, Schöffler and others may have good voices, but they lack the special color, timbre and tone which mark the truly great, thus the ordinariness of their expression reduces true eloquence to rhetoric. Even a great singer like Hans Herman Nissen, deeply identified with the role of Hans Sachs, lacked the dignity, warmth, intimacy of tone, humor and poetry we hear from Schorr; Nissen’s wisdom is fit for municipal celebrations and friends but doesn’t speak out over the ages to all of us.
"Only a few truly great voices are, by virtue of certain unique qualities, capable of being instrumental to all that is profound and noble in our highest arts. Clearly, Hans Sachs, in medieval Nuremberg, contemplating the universal insanity of humanity pitting one aspect against the other, could as well offer his warmly toned concerns today as in any other era, but we would suffer few among us to tell us so. In 'Wahn! Wahn!' listen to Schorr change the tone of his indictment of the previous night's strife to ironical humor, without a trace of bitterness or self-righteousness, as he sings 'Gott weiss, das geschah' ('God knows how this befell'), floating his contemplation in a tone of warm-hearted amusement, while the marvelous strains of Midsummer's Eve engulf one with the tender beauty of life. Here Sachs perceives that no world evil was at the base of it all, only some 'glow worm that could not find his mate.' He sees that it is for inconsequentials that we bait and fight each other, some scrap of importance, some bauble or glittering image which yields nothing to the spirit or the communal life into which we are all set. Would it were that we could hold the view of our idiocies like a bubble of laughter in our mouths, as Schorr's Hans Sachs teaches us to do, and turn all this madness 'to serve for noble works.'
"It is because Schorr, in his voice, tone and temperament, so personifies Sachs, that his lyricism can clasp wings on these considerations and lift us to the same philosophical elevation, above the despair of human enmity, to feel, as Wagner's inspiration means us to feel, the human capacity to become superior to circumstances. Wagner, speaking through such a Sachs as Friedrich Schorr, teaches us the sweetness, not of tolerance but of an innate compassion which is strength and tenderness combined, a poetic sweetness-of-being which reminds one of the magic of Midsummer's Eve’s melody at the end of Act II and its reprise in 'Wahn, Wahn'.
"These same qualities pervade much of Schorr's singing in this opera. Consider the delicate poetry of tone with which Schorr commences his Fliedermonolog, so utterly in keeping with the charm which the Elder tree's fragrance throws upon him. Schorr mixes this tone into his contemplations of the poetry he heard from Walther in the previous Act, so that the enspelling creativity of Spring is mixed with the innate musicality and involuntary originality that he sensed in the young man's expression, surrounding Sachs with fragrant reminiscences. The tone that Schorr gives Hans Sachs is truly poetical, yet this is not the ardent rapture of a young man buta restrained, musing, grave, subtle sound in which one can feel the profundity of Sachs' character, just as one would experience depth in certain persons in ordinary life — not by some accrual of facts, nor the conceptual claims they make, nor by the books they've read, but by the tone they take. This, alone, communicates whether we have before us intellectual pose, or the image of deep content rather than the reality itself. This truth is communicated instantaneously, and though we might be unable to explain the grounds for our trust, we are ready to rely on this rare reality at once. Schorr exudes this depth in the very timbre of his voice — it is hued innately with ennobled character — so that the Fliedermonolog focuses us upon Sachs in a depth we are never thenceforth to lose. He is the person whom all eyes follow, one of those rare personages given us through the miracle of great art who stands for a real human being amidst countless thousands of half-asleep, half-alive persons.
"Schorr’s singing in the Fliedermonolog finds him savoring the poetical ideal which is at the secret heart of Walther's words and music. This subtle rapture puts a special magic on Sachs' tender and evocative 'Nun sang er, wie er musst' ('He sang because he must'), which reflects, in the way Schorr sings it, not only his admiration for the freedom and inevitability of Walther’s song-filled expression, but a profound savoring of the beautiful necessity which underlies all the true poetry that issues from the human heart. Sachs’ sense of a higher law governing all the music, one which is deeply related to living, is the source of his germinal awareness that the rules of the Meistersingers are atrophying the true spirit of songfulness; this is what he recognized in their rejection of Walther, and this is what will flower eventually into his whole-hearted support of the young man's inspiring and poetical vision.
"Through Schorr's profound art, all that is ennobling in Wagner's sublime music and text comes through and takes its true stature. And while we would have preferred to hear Schorr within the context of Toscanini's triumphant recreation of the score, there is much in power and poetry here to provide a fitting musical context for Schorr’s incomparable portrayal.
"The joy we take in this preservation is doubled by the fact that we are finally enabled to hear Elisabeth Rethberg's Eva. Her lovely tone in this music, particularly in her ecstatic phrasing in Act II before and during the 'Schusterlied' Scene, or in the scenes she has with Sachs, is something to cherish. Her phrasing in the Act III Quintet does not surpass that of Elisabeth Schumann, who remains the finest on record, nor does she imbue this music with her special personality, as does Lotte Lehmann. Nevertheless, Rethberg's intonation, her special intensity, refinement of expression and emotional warmth makes for a portrayal of Eva that will linger in your memory. So many of the passages she sings are ravishing in their beauty of phrase and ecstatic tone. For instance, when she discovers Walther after she leaves Sachs in Act II, the enthrallment in her tone, the soaring range of her singing of 'Ja ihr seid es' and all the following lines, have no parallel in any of the other performances I've ever heard. I refer in particular to the lines 'Nicht eh'r, bis ich sah den theuersten Mann!' or everything she sings in this stanza, or her sustained tone, so ineffably touching in her parting words, 'Dem Meistergericht'.
"For these two, Schorr and Rethberg, I prefer this Elisabeth Rethberg as Eva performance, though it's in far lesser sonics than the marvelous reproduction of the 1939 Meistersinger with Schorr and Jessner. Both Schorr and Rethberg are in the voice we associate with them in these roles from the 78rpm disc they made together of the 'Footstool duet Sieh' Ev'chen! Dacht'ich doch'. Ever since hearing that record in the 1940s, I've yearned to hear a complete performance with these two artists. Now, here it is.
"Lawrence Gilman, music critic of the New York Herald Tribune, celebrated 'the limpid and solacing beauty of Madame Rethberg's voice in Meistersinger,' writing of Rethberg's 'sense of the shape and balance of phrases' as well as 'her delicate instinct for line and cadence and proportion.' Out of these elements emerges an Eva who is not simply a lovely maiden, touched with an affection for Sachs she even imagines to be love, but one capable of a much different passion for Walther. Hers is a spirit which soars with such feminine intensity that many of Eva's lines shine with a glowing beauty.
Rene Maison as Walther is better, perhaps, in this role than in anything else preserved from his seasons at the Met, with the capital exception of Loge in Das Rheingold in which he is unsurpassable. This Belgian tenor, born in 1895, made his Metropolitan Opera debut just a few weeks previously in this same role with a nearly identical cast. The timbre of his voice has a certain bleating quality to it which deducts from one’s esteem of his singing but he certainly manages to convey a lyricism and poetry not untouched with virility, which makes for a convincing and quite musical portrayal.
"Eduard Habich, world famed for his portrayal of Alberich, is heard here as Beckmesser, making of this narrow-minded character a believable figure whose outlook and nature avoid caricature. Habich gives us a Beckmesser who is unaware of the comical aspects of his expression (especially in his endeavor to sing his serenade to Eva in the second act) and who is even touching in his earnestness. Interestingly, Habich never reminds one of his memorable Alberich in Rheingold despite his unmistakable voice, and the fact that Alberich and Beckmesser share a tone of cramped injury and rage, thus the two portrayals could easily have struck similarities. Instead, he has reshaped his tonal approach so as to fit it naturally into the utterly different world of medieval Nuremberg. His is a portrayal fit to be heard amidst such vocal luminaries as Schorr and Rethberg, remaining in the memory and enlarging in stature with each hearing.
"Emanuel List is heard as Pogner, and while his recognizable voice is welcome, he is in rather poor vocal condition; indeed, his singing in Act I is the worst ever heard from him in Met broadcasts. Fortunately, he recovers sufficiently to not make a trial of Acts II & III. Of course, every singer, no matter how great, can have a bad night, though not too often does he or she have it broadcast nationally and preserved on transcription discs.
"Karin Branzell is an attractive Magdalene, sprightly and rich-toned. Hans Clemens is less ingratiating, given that his tone often takes on an unattractive nasal bleat, but he is lively and convincing. These last words particularly apply to the Met chorus, which is vitally involved in all that transpires. It is enormously effective in responding to Beckmesser's endeavor to sing the lyrics of Walther's lied in Act II. The confusion and consternation heard from the crowd, which finally gives way to gradations of laughter culminating in a crescendo of hilarity is marvelously authentic and convincing. This, then, is yet another of the many virtues of this performance. Also to be relished is much of Bodanzky’s leadership of the orchestra, though not his confused, lopsided essayal of the complex ensemble that ends Act I, nor the infamous cuts for which he was so notorious.
"Opera lovers came to learn of the existence of a recording of a complete performance of 'Die Meistersinger' with Schorr in Paul Jackson's fascinating book 'Saturday Afternoons at the Old Met'. Professor Jackson was auditioning a private preservation issued by Edward J. Smith that is extremely miniscule, poor-sounding, tinny, and swamped in surface noise. Nevertheless, these problems did not prevent him from hearing the glories of the performance:
"'In company with Chaliapin's Boris, Richard Mayr's Baron Ochs and Pinza's Don Giovanni, Schort's a Sachs is one of the unmatched pontcayals of the century [...] sublime is the word.'
"The better-sounding recording presented here further verifies Paul Jackson's estimate. There are occasions when Schorr's voice turns hollow or he negotiates one or another note with difficulty, but this is no more than a few minor blemishes on a magnificent painting.
"Given this greatness of characterization and voice, 'Die Meistersinger' seems to be irradiated throughout with a warm sunlight and, in the finale to Act II, a magical moonlight, still reflecting the now-hidden sun, casting its spell over the darkened houses of medieval Nuremberg. Wagner has brought this world to poetical life with its guilds and Summer Song Festival. Lawrence Gilman considered 'Die Meistersinger' to possess many dimensions:
"'[...] profound and blithe, tranquil and poignant, homespun and magical. For in this huge and bountiful piece, tragedy is masked by a deep and comprehending humanity that fills up one’s sense with the greatness of the human spirit.'
"For Gilman, as for myself, Friedrich Schorr, above all others, communicated this inspiring quality, suffusing great knowledge with tenderness; a figure touched with a quiet humor and characterized by a love of the old, enlarged by an openness of heart to the new. Gilman’s evocative writing has its chief focus on the music-drama's central personage, Hans Sachs:
"'What a character Wagner has given us here! — this poet, dreamer, man of sorrows: this tragedian who has mastered his grief and does not take too seriously his resignation; who is mellow without softness, noble without offensiveness [...] a man of infinite charm — magnetic, lovable, fine-fibred, yet homespun; a being of fathomless tenderness.'
"Gilman continues:
"'For some, this is the most endearing of all scores, and deep is the happiness of those who are so fortunate as to hear 'Die Meistersinger' revealingly performed as, at the Metropolitan, with the sage, mellowed and glowing Sachs of Friederich Schorr; probably the finest embodiment of the character that is now to be seen in any lyric theater.'
"Harold Schonberg, New York Times music critic, recalled, in his article 'Backward Times' (1994):
"'For 'Meistersinger' there was a Sachs of Schorr and Eva of Rethberg. They set standards for all time in those roles. Schorr had a noble bearing and a kind of wisdom and humanity in his singing that nobody else in my time has been able to duplicate. Rethberg’s silvery voice, so perfectly placed, so easily produced, imbued with an older tradition, so intense and, at the same time, vocally relaxed, was unique.
"Schorr's recordings in the studio, and broadcast from the stage, corroborate this estimate, making unimportant the very few occasions when Schorr cannot adequately manage a particular note. What matter, when this great artist provides the vocal equivalent of the Hans Sachs we imagine? The few 78rpm commercial recordings illuminate much that was unforgettable in Schorr's portrayal but the fullest corroboration comes from hearing this broadcast in 1936. And while Schorr gives us the stature, tenderness and nobility of this human character, his portrayal draws dimension from its setting, not only in Wagner's music, but in the voices of Rethberg and Maison and the milieu that Wagner's music brings to life.
"Even in those performances in which the vocal forces convey mundane conceptions, still the greatness of the music enfolds them with its magic. And while music lovers especially esteem one or another part of the score, everyone I've ever known agrees that the conclusion of Act II is the most sublime. Of this Gilman writes:
"'At the close of the second act, as the rioters disperse and the tumult dies down, and the doors are closed and the lights put out, leaving the stage quite empty and dark, the Night Watchman arrives on the scene with his lantern and his ox-horn, rubbing his eyes, singing his quavery call. Then we see the moon rise above all Nuremberg, sleeping in the heart of a forgotten but recovered century, while the murmuring orchestra reminds us of the brooding enchantment of the summer night. Once again, we realize that there is nothing in music to set beside this lovable masterwork, with its beauty and serene philosophy, its delicate, exact recapturing of the hue and fragrance of a vanished day, its perfect veracity and transcendent art.'
"There have been many savourable performances of this masterwork, many of which offer sonics that do justice to Wagner's enchanting music. These belong on the music lover's shelf even in those instances where the portrayal of its central character lacks those memorable qualities which recall the singer's voice whenever we think back upon the music. Yet space must be made on the shelf of any significant collection for this sonically cramped, sometimes noisy preservation, one that may predominate over many hi-fi recordings with a different kind of fidelity. This performance, narrowed in its aural scope, stems from a time when technology was just beginning to assemble its capacities and prospects, delivering to us, 67 years later, these glowing and unforgettable portrayals, taking its place as one of the chief treasures of its era, and even, perhaps, of any age." (Richard Caniell. From the liner notes.)
Performers: Orchestra and Chorus of the Metropolitan Opera, Artur Bodanzky, Friedrich Schorr, Elisabeth Rethberg, Rene Maison, Karin Branzell, Emanuel List
1.1. Vorspiel
1.2. Aufzug I, Szene I: 'Dazu Dir Der Heiland Kam'
1.3. Aufzug I, Szene I: 'Verweilt! Ein Wort'
1.4. Aufzug I, Szene I: 'Da Wär Der Ritter Ja Am Rechten Ort'
1.5. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'David, Was Stehst?'
1.6. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'Mein Herr! Der Singer Meister-Schlag'
1.7. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'Der Meister Tön' Und Weisen'
1.8. Aufzug I, Szene II: 'Aller End' Ist Doch David Der Allergescheit 'st'
1.9. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Seid Meiner Treue Wohl Versehen'
1.10. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Gott Grüß' Euch, Meister!'
1.11. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Beliebt's, Wir Schreiten Zur Merkerwahl?'
1.12. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Das Nenn' Ich Ein Wort'
1.13. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Verzeiht! Vielleicht Schon Ginget Ihr Zu Weit'
1.14. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Wohl, Meister! Zur Tagesordnung Kehrt'
1.15. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Am Stillen Herd In Winterzeit'
1.16. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Nun, Meister, Wenn's Gefällt'
1.17. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Was Euch Zum Liede Richt' Und Schnur'
1.18. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Fanget An!'
1.19. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Seid Ihr Nun Fertig?'
1.20. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Halt Meister! Nicht So Geeilt!'
1.21. Aufzug I, Szene III: 'Doch Wird's Wohl Jetzt Mir Kund''
1.22. Broadcast Commentary
2.1. Aufzug II: 'Johanistag! Johanistag!'
2.2. Aufzug II: 'Was Gibt's? Treff Ich Dich Wieder Am Schlag?'
2.3. Aufzug II: 'Nicht Doch, 's Ist Mild Und Labend'
2.4. Aufzug II: 'Was Duftet Doch Der Flieder'
2.5. Aufzug II: 'Gut'n Abend Meister!'
2.6. Aufzug II: 'Könnt's Einem Wittwer Nich Gelingen?'
2.7. Aufzug II: 'Das Dacht' Ich Wohl'
2.8. Aufzug II: 'Da Ist Er!'
2.9. Aufzug II: 'Hört, Ihr Leut', Und Lasst Euch Sagen'
2.10. Aufzug II: 'Jerum! Jerum!'
2.11. Aufzug II: 'Mich Schmertzt Das Lied'
2.12. Aufzug II: 'Den Tag Seh' Ich Erscheinen'
2.13. Aufzug II: 'Zum Teufel Mit Dir Verdammte Gesell'!'
2.14. Broadcast Commentary
3.1. Aufzug III: Vorspiel
3.2. Aufzug III, Szene I: 'Gleich! Meister! Hier!'
3.3. Aufzug III, Szene I: 'Blumen Und Bänder Seh' Ich Dort!'
3.4. Aufzug III, Szene I: 'Wahn! Wahn! Überall Wahn!'
3.5. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Grüß Gott, Mein Junker'
3.6. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Mein Freund! In Holder Jugendzeit'
3.7. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Morgenlich Leuchtend In Rosigen Schein'
3.8. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Das Nenn' Ich Mir Einen Abgesang!'
3.9. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Ein Werbelied! Von Sachs? - Ist's Wahr'
3.10. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Sieh Da! Herr Schreiber? Auch Am Morgen'
3.11. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Das Gedicht? Hier Liess Ich's'
3.12. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'So Ganz Boshaft Doch Keinen Ich Fand'
3.13. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Säng' Mir Nur Wenigstens Einer Dazu!'
3.14. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'O Sachs! Mein Freund! Du Theurer Mann!'
3.15. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Mein Kind: Von Tristan Und Isolde'
3.16. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Die Selige Morgentraumdeut-Weise'
3.17. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Sankt Crispin, Lobet Ihn'
3.18. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Als Nürnberg Belagert War'
3.19. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Hungersnoth! Hungersnoth!'
4.1. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Ihr Tanzt?'
4.2. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Die Meistersinger! Die Meistersinger!'
4.3. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Wach' Auf, Es Nahet Gen Den Tag'
4.4. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Euch Macht Ihr's Leichet'
4.5. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'O Sachs! Mein Freund!'
4.6. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Morgen Ich Leuchte In Rosigen Schein'
4.7. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Heimlich Mir Graut'
4.8. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Morgenlich Leuchtend In Rosigen Schein'
4.9. Aufzug III, Szene II: 'Der Zeugen, Denk' Es, Wählt Ich Gut'
4.10. Broadcast Commentary
4.11. Aufzug II: 'Was Duftet Doch Der Flieder'
4.12. Aufzug III: 'Wahn! Wahn!'
4.13. 'Abendlich Glühend'
4.14. 'Sieh' Evchen!'
4.15. 'Aha! Streicht Die Lene'
4.16. 'Selig, Wie Die Sonne Meine Glückes Lacht'
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