Schorr has always been one of the foremost singers in my own personal pantheon, and hearing this record through from start to finish has not only confirmed his place but fortified those strangely militant emotions that certain special singers can arouse in the mild breasts of their normally pacific admirers. Why should a certain tone, a particular way of singing a phrase, make one declaim inwardly (but as though to all the world) that this is what one means by singing, and that by singing one means civilization, and that by civilization one means all that matters in thought, feeling and ways of living? Well, it almost comes to that.
Not that this present selection represents Schorr with anything like completeness. There is nothing of his Wotan—and his Wotan, in passages like the ''Abendlich strahlt'' of Das Rheingold, the Farewell in Die Walkure, and 'Twenty Questions' with Mime in Siegfried, was irreplaceable. His Sachs excelled not in the Cobbling song (heard here) so much as in the two great monologues, the duet with Eva, the moving acknowledgement of Nuremberg's homage. Still, here he is, in a varied repertoire arranged chronologically from Haydn to Strauss, and involving oratorio and Lieder as well as opera, with, in opera itself, a number of well-chosen reminders that his stage life was not entirely Wagnerian.
One role I cannot recall having seen listed in connection with him is Papageno. Dr Alfred Frankenstein in The Record Collector (April 1971) remembered him as the Speaker in Berlin—''What dignity and humanity, what imposing personality''—but it is hard to imagine Schorr, even in youth, as the bird-catcher. Yet the solo here suggests a characterization that had humour and lightness of touch, and the duet with Emmy Bettendorf at her loveliest shows exemplary if somewhat paternal grace, and a rare, unspoilt legato. His Euryanthe solo I see described by Dr Semeonov in the same number of The Record Collector as disappointing, but my own hopes of it ran high and were if anything exceeded: a stunning performance, I thought.
Then here are the Elijah arias, deeply felt, scrupulously sung; ''Es ist genug'' (''It is enough'') in particular has heart and beauty of spirit in it, as well as a consummate vocal mastery. Wolfram's arias, too, have a care for detail of expression, all too easily overlooked because the sheer beauty of sound is so fine in itself. The Evening Star (Tannhauser) lies a little high for him, but has there ever been, even with Janssen, a velvet laid over it more apt in hue and texture. Among the songs, the famous Prometheus, from the Hugo Wolf Society's second volume, possesses the expected majesty of utterance and a movingly human touch as well, and ''Am Meer'' draws on resources of tone, technique and a fine mind, so that it haunts the memory and calls to be heard again.
Colin Attwell's transfers are admirably clean and natural; Dr Robert Jones's record collection must be enviably well stocked, and we are privileged to be able to share in his rarities. And no, Schorr is not perfect: the microphone occasionally picks out obtrusive vibrations, sometimes the phrasing could be broader, and so forth. He is still utterly unforgettable.'