These performances have always been fitting climaxes to their respective Ring cycles, and at the same time they are wholly typical of the characteristics of conductors and recordings. The effect of either, taken on its own, is as overwhelming as any performance of Gotterdammerung should be. Whether you prefer one to the other depends not so much on the calibre of the interpretation, which is mighty in each case, but on what you want to hear in your home. While the reading of each is not so dissimilar, stemming from the innate dramatic response of both Solti and Bohm, the results are quite contrasted, mainly because of the differences in recording venues and techniques, differences emphasized by CD. I would hate to be without either, but—Cd prices being what they are—inevitably an intending purchaser will be able to afford only one.
The Decca remains a startling experience in the home, a revelation in sound quality enhanced by CD. It also remains a performance dominated by conductor and orchestra. You will never hear so much detail of the orchestral score in the opera house, and you certainly hear less on the Philips. At times, such as in Waltraute's warning and the consequent disaster for Brunnhilde, then again in the closing scenes of the whole work, you feel as if you were in the theatre so involving are the performers; at other times, particularly in direct comparison with the Bayreuth set, you become aware this is a studio performance; the ambience is that of the studio, and the total silence of the background on CD only brings home the point. The very immediacy of the recording also calls attention to the aggressive energy of Solti's conducting, as in the great Second Act confrontation or the Funeral March. If you are in the mood for it, and the neighbours are out of earshot, it is thrilling on its own terms.
By direct comparison, the Philips, its sound quality enormously improved on CD, suggests the natural and excellent acoustic of the Bayreuth theatre; as I said when reviewing the Bohm Die Walkure (414 114-2DH4, 4/85), you imagine yourself in a Bayreuth stall on what must have been a memorable evening in 1967, and even by the side of the Decca, you will be surprised how much of the orchestral tissue can be heard. By the same token, you can also catch the occasional cough, prompter's whisper, and stage movement and that may deter some, though not me, from appreciation of the Bohm set. I actually prefer this evidence of human activity to the sometimes artificially contrived or electronic effects on the Decca—the added thunder at Waltraute's appearance, the baritonal resonance given to Siegfried's voice when disguised as Gunther by the Tarnhelm, the odd back-stage focusing of Alberich, the sword play of Hagen and Gunther in their fight, realistically as some of these are achieved.
Where the casts are concerned, honours are about even. Both performances are dominated by Nilsson's Brunnhilde. Magnificent as she is for Solti, I find her Bayreuth interpretation just that much more taut and consistent, though allowance has to be made for one or two word fluffs. Indeed, with Bohm at his most incandescent, the Immolation must rank as one of the noblest accounts of this music ever recorded. Whichever performance you choose, you will hear a Brunnhilde unlikely to be equalled for long time, vocally quite tireless even on stage and full of interpretative insights that she was not often gien credit for during her distinguished career. With Windgassen, the balance favours his Decca performance, where he is in marginally fresher voice, but in both cases his reliability and musicianship are abiding assets, and his death scene is movingly tender in both versions.
Frick and Greindl were great Hagens. Greindl's is not quite so securely vocalized as his rival's, but Greindl manages to be the more implacable and nasty, his verbal declamation quite frightening, as he could be in the role on stage; here is a case where actuality does tell. His Watch and call to the vassals are performances to savour again and again. Like Greindl, Modl's Waltraute is intent on giving every consonant its due; her performance is very much sung off the words. But she is unsteady and sometimes takes awkward breaths. With a voice in better condition, Ludwig is hardly less vital or concerned in her declamation. Fischer-Dieskau sounds almost too noble for poor, ineffectual Gunther; Stewart, by contrast, has a rough-hewn voice that suites this music. The Norns' scene sounds rather static on Decca; both Silja and Burmeister are superior to their Decca colleagues in conveying the Norns' anxious state of mind. Both sets have delightful Rhinemaidens. Neither Gutrune is ideal, but Watson is steadier, more blonde in tone than Dvorakova.
The Decca set crowns the transformation wrought on the company's historic cycle; those who have the other operas need not hesitate to acquire this one. I was again amazed at its technical achievement and by the thrilling quality of most of the performance. Those who prefer, like myself, to be present at what was a totally inspired stage rendering will want the Philips, also in superb though different sound. We still await Bohm's Rheingold and Siegfried, but I am sure they will match his and Philips's achievement in the other operas, and this will be a more uniformly cast cycle, recorded over two years rather than Decca's eight. And, of course, Karajan's DG set waits in the wings.'