Between them these three CDs provide a fascinating view of the variety of styles in which Kurt Weill's music was performed in its early days—a variety indeed that makes a mockery of the obstacles we are told the Weill copyright owners have placed in the way of today's most talented Weill performer because her interpretations don't match their own ideas.
The Teldec issue comes complete with copious notes, lyrics and translations and is very largely a CD transfer of recordings that were previously gathered in an LP collection I reviewed in December 1975. The German Die Dreigroschenoper excerpts are not quite original-cast recordings, but they come pretty close. The singers all appeared in early productions and include, above all, the young Lotte Lenya singing some of Polly's, as well as Jenny's, songs in her original high register. We also hear four songs recorded in 1930 for the French film version, with Albert Prejean caressing Macheath's numbers in a way that turns them instantly into seductive French chansons. In addition there are Lenya's splendid versions of two Mahagonny songs, recorded just before the opera's premiere.
To fill the CD we are offered five contemporary Berlin chansons, of which the ballad Vom Seemann Kuttel Daddeldu was also included on the LP predecessor. It's a most curious and fascinating number, with music by the future composer of Isle of Capri and Red Sails in the Sunset; but even better is a second number sung by Kurt Gerron (the original Moritat singer). This is Rudolf Nelson's Der Nachtgespenst, which BBC Radio 3 included in its Weimar season some years back. If the other three numbers, sung by Marlene Dietrich and Curt Bois, don't make quite the same impact, they none the less leave me wishing for a whole CD of such chansons.
The first of the two well-filled Capriccio CDs, though devoted entirely to Die Dreigroschenoper, largely avoids the recordings on the Teldec disc. It restricts itself to just two Lotte Lenya 78 sides, which in this context serve to demonstrate that nobody could approach her in the singing of Seerauber-Jenny''. More instructive still is to hear Carola Neher, who was intended as the first Polly. With her voice of naive innocence, she sounds just as I always imagined Polly should. Since we also hear Harald Paulsen, the original Macheath, we may piece together from these CDs a pretty iood idea of just how the original cast made the music sound.
The rest of this Capriccio CD contains a no less remarkable collection of foreign and dance-band versions of Die Dreigroschenoper numbers including a tearierking ''Barbara-Song'' by Lys Gauty and a quite unbelievable ''Canon Song'' (much of it in a monotone) from Marianne Oswald. There is also a quite startling version of some of the Kleine Dreigroschenmusik by the man who commissioned it.
If I enjoy best the second Capriccio disc, it is because it provides the greatest Weill variety and the greatest novelties. The Lenya performances of the same two Mahagonny songs, though again dating from 1930, are different from those on the Teldec. Four versions in quick succession threaten to make even ''Surabaya-Johnny'' pall, but I can do nothing but applaud the opportunity to hear contemporary recordings of such items as the ''Tango Angele'' from Der Zar lasst sich photographieren, ''Die Muschel von Maryate'' from Konjunktur, and Ernst Busch's recordings of a couple of numbers from Der Silbersee. Best of all are the eight tracks in which the middle-period Lotte Lenya sings with utter passion and devotion a varied collection of songs with her husband's own captivating piano accompaniment. Even with some fierce egg-frying sounds from the wartime shellac, these are surely jewels beyond price for the Weill lover.'