Just see how I show you my feelings
Had I been living at the time Walter Felsenstein’s film of Verdi’s Otello was released in 1969, such then-innovative elements as the use of color on television and a vernacular translation might have given me new insights into this great opera.
Maybe.
But as I am, I have seen and heard Otello performed many times, in color, in the original Italian, and with much better singers. In watching Walter Felsenstein’s Otello now, its style feels hokey, overblown and alienating.
This telecast used a new German translation of the Italian text, created specifically so Felsenstein’s production could get closer to Verdi’s original intentions. “Just see how I show you my feelings” sings the subtitled Desdemona during her Act III confrontation with Otello. This line pretty much sums up the feel of the whole production: the emphasis is on demonstrating how characters are feeling with broad, choreographed gestures and large facial expressions. The result is a bizarre, alien landscape of contorted bodies and painted faces — sometimes strange, sometimes laughable, but almost always keeping me, the audience, at a distance.
The tragedy is that this is the opposite of Felsenstein’s intention, as indicated in the interviews with him on this DVD (Arthaus Musik 101291
Of course, all of this could perhaps be made up for if the singing was somewhere in between good and magnificent, but alas, here this DVD falls short again. Vladimir Bauer’s Iago is the weakest of the three principals, with a reedy, lightweight voice that sounds at times more like a character tenor than a Verdi baritone. Hanns Nocker’s Otello fairs only slightly better. Nocker certainly has the heft of voice for the part, but tends to bluster his way through key moments. Best of the three is Christa Noack as Desdemona, who succumbs to this style just as the rest, but has some very touching moments, and a sweet if unexceptional soprano.
Ultimately, if you are a Felsenstein scholar, or someone with a particular interest in the history of performance styles in opera, you may find much of value in this Otello. However if you are looking for a great performance of this greatest of operas, I suggest you look elsewhere. If you’re looking for a similar quality of filmed performance- that is, filmed with only so many cameras on a studio set- check out the 1974 filmed performance of Otello with Jon Vickers, Mirella Freni and Peter Glossop, conducted and directed by Herbert von Karajan. Alternatively, you can check out the 1958 filmed performance of Mario del Monaco, Renato Capecchi and Rosanna Carteri. Both are similar to the Felsenstein in terms of the style of performance — but both exceed it in dramatic impact due to the singers involve.
Agreed, with all Felsenstein’s genius, most of his Otello film does not stand the test of time. The “fuoco di gioia” chorus, on the other hand, is quite brilliantly done and demonstrates how Felsenstein worked in depth with each chorister. The feelings of warmth and calm after the storm engulf the screen during that music.
Didn’t Domingo and Ricciarelli also do a movie?
And so far, based on what I’ve seen and read on this site, I’m not impressed with Arthaus
Domingo and Ricciarelli did do a movie- a Zefferelli movie in fact! That was more of a big budget affair with multiple locations, sweeping overhead shots, flashbacks and what have you. It felt a little unfair to compare something shot on studio sets with a fancy pants movie version. The versions I mention were also shot on studio sets, but were- in my opinion- much more engaging.
OMG, squirrel shall henceforth be known as Hanns Nocker!
There was an hysterical article in one of those dreadful Italian magazines, oh OGGI, or something of that ilk, at the time…the title of the glaring headline said “NON MI TOLGO QUESTA CAMICCIA DA NOTTE!!”, i.e., Katia sez, “I’m not going to take off this nightgown!” Guess Franco asked her to.
She didn’t.
It was quite a wonderful film I thought at the time but haven’t seen it again.
One thing I hold against Frengo, even more than those creaky sets in Turandot, is the fact he had the entire Willow Song CUT.
Routine obeisances are paid to Felsenstein’s films by people who should know better and by those who bestow similar praise on the largely worthless musical writings of Adorno.
Maybe the shows played well in house, but the films are largely disappointing. One critic reviewing their DVd issue , Roger Pines, was brave enough to say so in print.
Krunoslav,
I’m sorry but I cannot intuit if you be M or F, so I’ll put you on a default setting….
I am interested in the phrase above in which you say “…on the largely worthless musical writings of Adorno.”
Since I’ve recently purchased, at the intermission of a boring opera performance, a book of Adorno’s, “Sound Figures”, and had planned on giving it to someone as a gift.
Before doing just that, could you tell me something of your objections as to the general opinion of Adorno’s criticism?
Thus far I have picked up the book to read a chapter entitled “Bourgeois Opera”, but somehow am having a time getting into it. Perhaps it is the translation. Perhaps it is me. Perhaps, just perhaps, it is Crap?
This is in a translation by one Rodney Livingstone, Stanford University Press.
My thanks should you care to respond.
holy crap did you actually review this and fail to mention that it is conducted by Kurt Masur?
I have the Felsenstein box set, and have so far watched six out of the seven films (the Otello being the only exception, and given that I was planning on watching it this weekend, this review is very well timed) and agree that by and large the films didn’t hold up very well. Don Giovanni is largely forgettable his Tales of Hoffmann uses a bizarre edition of the score that cuts it to shreds, and his Figaro, though it does have some lovely detailed moments, is a bit of a snooze. Ritter Blaubart (Offenbach’s Bare-bleau) is entertaining, but mainly due to the hilarious character work of Werner Ender as the King and the singing of Hans Nocker (who fares better here than he did as Hoffmann and, apparently, as Otello) and Anny Schlemm (She also sings Donna Elvira, less succesfully). His film of Fidelio, on the other hand, despite copius cuts and poor dubbing, works very well (Fritz Lehmann’s conducting doesn’t hurt). The best of the Box Set is definetly THE CUNNING LITTLE VIXEN. Though it is filmed in black and white (and uses a tenor for Fox Goldenstripe, contrary to the composer’s intent) it is a deeply touching, very well done production of the opera. Rudolf Asmus, as the Forrester, gives one of the best performances of the final scene I have heard in any language. Actually, Asmus is a highlight on many of the sets, appearing in all of the operas except Fidelio and Otello as Bartolo, Leporello, The Four Villians and Popolani in Blaubart. What an artist.
If you’re looking to explore Felsenstein’s work, I’d try to find VIXEN on DVD solo (It was released as such a few years back), or try renting the box set. Don’t fork over the cash on this one right away.
Largely, indeed, pretentios crap, particularly as regards Adorno’s reductive view of jazz and pop music, and his failure really to engage with works NOT in the German canon.
A student of Adorno once gave a paper I heard speaking about how unprecedented the Opening Scene of LULU — with the plot being adumbrated before the curtain by a v=baritone who goes on to play a treacherous role in the piece –was in opera. He was surprised when I pointed out that Berg and German audiences were very familiar with Leoncavallo’s, um, DER BAJAZZO — and that struck me as typical of Adorno-based criticism.
I rmeber seeing the Zefferelli Domingo / Ricciarelli Otello in a theatre, on a 70mm screen – six track sound….those were the days.
Didn’t Zeff also cut the big ensemble in Act 3
also? I remember watching the film in a theater and being really angered by the cuts.
I haven’t seen it since and I pretty much wrote Zeff off after that. He did some really wonderful early work but truly ran out of things to say.
Richard; Yes Zefferelli did do ‘cuts’ in the film,, but the EMI CDs that were released at the same time ‘as a soundtrack version of the film’ was in fact an uncut version of the score ,and balanced differently…especially for domestic listening. EMI even put out promotional covering notes, to stop any confusion about it. Those CDs can then be considered ‘equally, for comparison’ besides all the other studio made versions of it. They were unaffected -by what had transpired ‘with the film’ regards forms of editing or changed sound balances to match visuals -’blow up shots’ etc.
Von Karajan in his Vickers/Freni video version I believe, -cut a section – in Act3 ( a trio?) . If I am not mistaken it is also ‘out’ of the CD version, released around the same time.
“Bare-bleau”? Sounds like a Falcon Studios title.
Ah my old friend the typo. I of course meant “Barbe-Bleu”. You know, Bluebeard.
Have you guys heard that Elisabeth Sordestrom died 2 days ago?
I just heard that. May she rest in peace.
Thank you, Krunoslav.
I see your point. Der Bajazzo, indeed.
With this in mind I shall take another look and bring along a large grain of salt.
Why do I keep hearing the Vicar say “Hogswill!”?
“Why do I keep hearing the Vicar say “Hogswill!”?”
Perhaps because so many here keep posting foolish praise of American and Continental singers who sing louder than lovely.
Both LULU and PAGLIACCI, even when done in English, are hardly pukka, though good old Frank Mullings worked up a splendid temper as Canio at the BNOC.