In his well-informed insert-note, Clemens Hosingler points out that this recording can lay claim to be the first-ever of Die Zauberflote, being completed shortly before the Beecham 1937-8 Berlin recording (EMI, Nimbus and Pearl, 3/90). He also argues, quite convincingly, that it is to be preferred to that classic in the sense that no compromises had to be made over the casting (Walter Legge was forced to drop Tauber and Kipnis since they were not Aryans), and because the dialogue (and a deal of it) had been included. Much as I admire the Beecham, I concur on these points and would add that there is a greater sense here of a prepared ensemble. At the same time Keilberth was renowned for persuading singers from all the major German houses to take part in his broadcasts, then – of course – something of a novelty. More importantly, he evinces a touch with the work that is even more light-textured, I would suggest more authentically Mozartian, than Beecham’s. Indeed, as you listen to the delicacy and clarity of the orchestral playing, you can hear a pre-echo of period-instrument readings. This is not to say that Keilberth does not give full weight to the serious side of the work. Then, where the dialogue is concerned, it is spoken in a natural, unaffected manner that I hear in few other versions, except perhaps the Furtwangler 1951 Salzburg set recently brought to light by EMI (see above).
The principal singers were all experienced in their roles on stage, and it is possible that the smaller parts were filled by little-known members of the Stuttgart Opera. Ludwig is a true Prince among Taminos (in the Dermota and Wunderlich class), his strong, even tone poised between the lyric and the heroic, his phrasing forward and ardent. It would be hard to better his account of both arias. His Pamina, Trude Eipperle, at the age of 27, provides pure, radiant, though not always wholly steady tone in a likeably unsophisticated performance, against Lemnitz’s more artful one for Beecham. Papageno was one of Schmitt-Walter’s most notable roles. His light baritone skips easily through aria and speech as he communes very directly with the listener. Husch (Beecham) has the better voice, but Schmitt-Walter matches him in easy charm. Piltti was a reigning Queen of Night in Vienna at the time. Not quite as accurate as Beecham’s Berger she is slightly more characterful. Manowarda is an authoritative but slightly rusty Sarastro, Hann a benign, articulate Speaker. The Papagena is a delight. Buchta’s Monostatos is sung with a wonderfully malign touch.
The Stuttgart Radio Chorus and Orchestra, well rehearsed, are exemplary in every respect, with the benefit of an ethereal flautist. The recording, though it occasionally suffers from interference, has a winning intimacy to it. I enjoyed this truly historic performance and recommend it wholeheartedly.'