Surely one of the saddest facts of gramophone history is Furtwangler's death at, for a conductor the relatively early age of 67. Had he lived another five or, better ten years we might have had a complete Ring from him in stereo and so much else that might have been of the stature of this Walkure recording. The great advantage this performance has over The Ring, conducted by Furtwangler and taken from Rome radio broadcasts is that it boasts the presence of the Vienna Philharmonic, who knew the great but eccentric conductor's ways as well as any other orchestra and gave him playing of superb quality throughout.
As for the interpretation, I don't want to patronize the Levine (DG, 11/88) or Haitink (EMI 12/88) readings, both of which I have enjoyed as much as AW, with similar reservations, but Furtwangler's performance has an inevitability about it in terms of pacing, incandescent sonority and dramatic bite that can only come from years of familiarity with the score. Even Krauss in his complete set doesn't make one sense the sheer power and majesty of Wagner's writing in quite the same way, though he comes near it (Laudis/MDC, 6/88). Listen to the menace of Hunding's music, the erotic charge in the love music, the sense of impending tragedy as Wotan departs at the end of his long Narration, itself never allowed to lose momentum, or the way Furtwangler allows the ''Todesverkundigung'' to develop a natural shape, or the tenderness that enters the music at Siegmund's words over the sleeping Sieglinde or the opening of the floodgates in the Farewell. Then there is the complete mastery of transition, something in which this conductor surpasses all others. As AR commented when the set last appeared on LP in 1966: ''One feels that Furtwangler carries all Wagner's directions in his head and visualizes each scene in the composer's terms''.
However, I part company with AR in his criticism of Rysanek and Modl. To be sure Rysanek starts a little unsteadily but before long she is not only in radiant voice but suffuses the role with her own youthful impetuosity—she was only 28 at the time. Nobody except Lehmann sings the part on record with more inner involvement and feeling. Modl may have her vocal weaknesses; her timbre and vocal method are perhaps an acquired taste, like Barstow's, but she shares that soprano's ability to get behind the notes to their real import, as at ''So wenig achtest du'' in the scene with Siegmunde, or her appeal to Wotan in Act 3. These attributes she shares with her coeval Varnay on the Krauss set. Margarete Klose matches Ludwig's authority as Fricka (Levine). If some of the beauty of her voice had departed by 1954, she remains totally commanding in the part as she gradually forces Wotan, metaphorically speaking, into a corner. Her Wotan is Frantz. Much as one wishes Hotter had been chosen for this set, one has to admire Frantz's undoubted strengths. His firm tone and clear articulation count for much in suggesting the part's authority, agony and compassion, and his absolutely idiomatic German makes him preferable to James Morris (for both Haitink and Levine) even if Frantz's tone isn't so warm. One always comes to his performance with doubts and goes away convinced.
But perhaps the most telling vocal performance of all is Suthaus's Siegmund. The last true Helden-tenor, he is still an underrated singer. Here, inspired by his conductor, he gives an object-lesson in phrasing, enunciation and eloquence to any tenor attempting the role just as he did when I heard him sing it in Paris in 1957 under another great Wagnerian, Knappertsbusch. His sense of line allied to his firm tone are most telling in ''Wintersturme'' and in his encounter with Brunnhilde while the desperate ''Walse'' cries in Act 1 are as they should be. There's as secure a clutch of Valkyries as on any other set of this work. As a whole, the singers in this cast prove that, as compared with most of their modern counterparts, there is no substitute for having German as your native language where Wagner is concerned or for long familiarity with your role.
Of course, the recording is in mono only and you won't expect to hear here the range and depth of orchestral sound found on the two later sets, but the voices are as faithfully caught as those on any recent version. With two sides each lasting around 79 minutes, the whole work has been accommodated on three CDs selling at mid price so that the set represents an undoubted bargain. Text and translation are included. I would not place this performance above Krauss's as a total experience but that is available only as part of a complete Ring, but unless modern sound means more to you than the calibre of the interpretation I would prefer this Walkure to either the Levine or the Haitink.'