This is an enthralling performance that every Straussian will want to experience. Mitropoulos made a speciality of the score, his most important contribution to opera interpretation. Souvenirs exist of his performances at the Metropolitan in 1949 with Varnay in the title-part and at the Maggio Musicale in Florence the following year with Anni Konetzni, but his Salzburg reading is the one to have. Those present were apparently bowled over by the occasion.
A Viennese critic of the day, Karl Lobl, quoted on the booklet for this set, commented: “I do not believe that there is another conductor capable of drawing from the score so much excitement and breathtaking tension and who does this – from memory – with so calm, almost relaxed a security and so much feeling for the beauty of the orchestral sound.” That is all confirmed by this issue, in good sound, as is Lobl’s praise for the Vienna Philharmonic. In spite of the shattering impact of the climaxes, Mitropoulos never loses sight of pertinent detail, as in the sudden switch to dramatic irony in the scene for Aegisthus. No other conductor, not even Bohm or Solti in the studio quite matches the frisson of this literally overwhelming performance.
And Mitropoulos is working with Inge Borkh, who – as for Bohm – confirms that she is indeed the most comprehensively equipped soprano for the title-role (even more so than Nilsson), vocally secure – high C apart – and emotionally capable of fulfilling every demand of the strenuous part. In the great scene with Orestes that lies at the heart of the piece she first expresses ineffably the sorrow at his supposed death, the “tausendmal” and “nie wiederkommt” passage done with such a searing sense of loss; then comes the great release of recognition – sung with immense warmth – followed by yet another, almost silvery voice as Elektra recalls her lost beauty. It is a passage of singing to return to again and again for its many insights. Borkh is hardly less impressive in her psychologically tense tussle with her mother, in her wheedling flattery of her sister when she wants Chrysothemis’s co-operation in killing Klytemnestra, or in the charm offensive to fool Aegisthus where her command of textual detail is so sure. Here’s a singer totally inside a role and with the wherewithal to execute her intentions – just what I recall from seeing her in the part in London.
Chrysothemis finds in della Casa an unusual interpreter, wonderfully ecstatic and pure of voice if not as emotionally involving as some and, it is said, dramatically overparted. Madeira, as for Bohm, is a formidable Klytemnestra, her nightmarish thoughts expressed in a firm voice, accurately deployed. Naturally, caught on stage, she is even more involved than in the studio. Bohme, a real bass, presents an implacable, angry Orestes, not as subtle or as sympathetic as Fischer-Dieskau for Bohm or Krause for Solti. Lorenz’s fading Heldentenor is ideal to express Aegisthus’s fatuity. The maids have never, surely, been cast with such secure voices, Kerstin Meyer positive in her few important phrases, and Horne tucked away as Fourth Maid.
Inevitably, cuts are made as is almost always the case in the theatre where, otherwise, Elektra might be left voiceless by the end. If you want the complete score, the famous Solti set, or the slightly lower voltage, but more consistent Sawallisch will do very nicely. If you want Borkh, you must choose between the Bohm in stereo, still excellent, at mid price on DG, or this, for me, unique experience, also at mid price. Dedicated Straussians might like it as an addition to one of the stereo versions. The more recent recordings are really not competitive.'