Having hungrily devoured every note of Kertesz's Bluebeard when it was first issued back in 1966, I approached this latest incarnation both with gratitude and a certain sense of trepidation. True, I'd already used Decca's first CD transfer (1/89—nla) for the purposes of comparison, but a more considered reappraisal now seemed inevitable.
Once again, what most strikes me about this production is its sumptuousness, its warmth and a vivid sense of audio theatre. Readers in search of sharp-edged instrumental accents or the texture and tang of native Hungarian singers would be better advised to search out either the first of Janos Ferencsik's Hungaroton recordings (1956—nla) or Dorati's 1962 version for Mercury, reissued last year. Kertesz, on the other hand, favours a far richer sound-stage, with softer contours (his armoury suggests more weight than glinting steel, his torture chamber, anxiety rather than cruelty) and a passionate swell to the string writing.
When it comes to the husband-and-wife team of Walter Berry and Christa Ludwig, one senses more a woman discovering sinister aspects of the man she loves than an inquisitive shrew intent on plundering Bluebeard's every secret. Here, Judith seems perpetually poised to take Bluebeard's arm and linger lovingly about him, while Berry's assumption of the title-role—which is beautifully if not terribly idiomatically, sung suggests neither Angst nor impatience. Ludwig, too, was in wonderful voice at the time of this recording, and instances of her eloquence are far too numerous to list individually. Perhaps the work's spacious introduction provides the best place to sample there, or the lead-up to the seventh door.
Placing this classic recording in the context of its finest rivals (past and present) is fairly easy, in that Kertesz represents the opera's compassionate core, whereas Boulez opts for maximum drama, Sawallisch (9/88—nla) for psychological insight and Ferencsik or Dorati, mobility and native inflexion. If you don't already know the piece and are happiest when listening to mainstream romantic opera, then I'd suggest trying either this splendid-sounding reissue or the (sonically inferior) Boulez on Sony Classical. The current transfer is superb, with a thunderous organ beyond the fifth door and merely the odd rogue edit or spot of tape hiss to betray the passing years.
Having previously referred to Ludwig and Berry as a ''Judith and Bluebeard next door'' (7/93—and meaning their relative homeliness of spirit), I don't now feel inclined to modify that reaction. Yet were I to recommend a Bluebeard 'blind' to someone unused to Bartok's often astringent style then I couldn't imagine that he or she would be disappointed by what remains an exceptional performance, spectacularly well recorded.'