The folk figure of Rübezahl – a kind of magic factotum, largely pro the good and anti the bad – had been the subject of a number of now little-known operas, and even one mooted by Mahler, before Hans Sommer (1837-1922) tackled the subject in this 1904 work. ‘Flanked by Wagner and Strauss’, says the booklet of the composer, who only turned to music after a major career in science. This phrase, however, suggests a more transitional character than one hears in this score: the work is certainly awash with Wagnerian elements, and I detected echoes of The Flying Dutchman, The Ring, Meistersinger and even Parsifal. One motif even brings the jolly Gamekeeper’s music from Rusalka to mind: this is, after all, a folk legend that bestrides what’s now the Czech-German border.

There’s arguably an echo of Strauss’s Feuersnot, too, in the waltzes that dance into the texture as Rübezahl takes on the guise of the piper Ruprecht (the title is misleading in this respect, since Rübezahl is the Sackpfeifer von Neisse, so far as I can tell). But it’s difficult not to agree with Strauss’s own assessment of the work, which he conducted in 1905. ‘[It] brought the decorous older gentleman much respectable success’, he wrote to his parents, but ‘generally speaking the music is too dry and lacks a certain inspiration.’ He didn’t predict it would last on the stage beyond the standard dutiful first runs, and he was right.

Still, it has its charms. We get a nice sense of Humperdinck-like folksy atmosphere, and Sommer rises to the key moments impressively. There’s some colourful gothic character to the final graveyard scene, which eventually sees the demise of the evil Buko – Governer of Neisse, father of the beautiful Gertrud and imprisoner of the wise (and innocent) Bernhard. Wido, who probably counts as the opera’s hero, vows revenge, but is in love with Gertrud. About halfway through, matters are taken out of his hands as Rübezahl/Ruprecht himself starts to steer events.

It’s a muddled plot, which Sommer’s score, not especially adept at offering consistent musical characterisations, does little to help clarify. Overall it’s one of those post-Wagnerian works that seems to look back rather than forwards, taking us down the fairy-tale path that would soon prove to be a dead end.

On this enterprising release from Pan Classics, Laurent Wagner’s cast do what they can to bring it to life, though some are unsurprisingly stretched by Sommer’s demands – Wagnerian stamina is required, but without the pay-off. The sound is decent and the orchestral playing, a few scratchy moments notwithstanding, perfectly fine.

Don’t expect a masterpiece; but, as with any first recording of a long-lost work, this is a valuable addition to a dusty corner of the catalogue. Be warned, though, we have the text only in German, and the translations of the in-depth booklet essays are hardly idiomatic.