One thing this series should be seen clearly to have done is to knock on the head once and for all the notion that in 'the old days' opera singers would merely 'stand and deliver', and that, as far as opera is concerned, acting is a modern invention. In all of these excerpts the singers are quite obviously acting for all they're worth. I'm afraid the other thing it does is to disabuse us of any notion that this was a particularly good period for singing. Throughout the course of these two discs there come a number of memorable, 'collectable' moments, of which almost all are 'acting' moments, while very few have essentially to do with singing.
Probably the singer whose stock rises most appreciably is Ludwig Hofmann. Though he had a long and successful career, making records throughout it (as Gurnemanz, for instance, in the famous 1929 HMV Karl Muck Parsifal Act 3—Opal, 4/90), he rarely aroused much more than the acquiescent interest accorded a worthy but not very distinctive artist. Here, in quite long excerpts from Tannhauser, Siegfried and Die lustigen Weiber, he makes a strong impression: thoroughly Germanic in method, but at this stage (he was 40 in 1935) proving its worth in firm, powerful and well-sustained singing.
Alfred Jerger, for whose memory the series has already done much, again shows himself to have had far more voice than his studio recordings suggest, though it scarcely matches Kipnis's in quality when the two sing side by side in Don Carlo. Kipnis (despite some over-emphasis and snarling vowels) provides moments of genuinely fine singing, but he is one of the celebrity guest artists in Vienna rather than a member of the company. The other is Jan Kiepura who (typical of the period) is acting all the time but often at the expense of his singing: he does some things very well (notably in the duet with Micaela in Carmen), but his bright, exciting voice already shows signs of losing its steadiness, and in both the Carmen and Turandot solos a pure, even singing line seems to be the last of his concerns.
Of the regular company members, Esther Rethy sounds to me very shallow except on high notes; Maria Reining fine in her ''Porgi, amor'' but wanting a firm 'grip' to the tone elsewhere; Viorica Ursuleac too variable to be satisfying in the Meistersinger Quintet; Hilde Konetzni clear-voiced but lacking the warmth of tone necessary for Elisabeth de Valois. The brief emergence of Franz Volker, Anton Dermota and a Czech tenor (in Gianni Schicchi), Emmerich Godin, is welcome. The famous conductors also come momentarily into identifiable existence, sometimes excitingly. Recordings vary, some chugging rather heavily, some losing contact with stage or orchestra, some remarkably vivid.'