The last studio recording of Lohengrin was conducted by Sir Georg Solti and, like this new DG set, it was a Vienna Philharmonic spectacular. The 1987 Decca recording marked the completion of Solti's epic Wagner cycle: whether or not this DG release proves to launch an Abbado cycle, it is likely to arouse high expectations.
For many potential purchasers the burning question will be: is there an Abbado 'angle', a distinctive approach? What is immediately clear is that this conductor shuns any hint of ponderousness. Tempos are generally brisk but they are never inflexibly enforced, and at one point at least—the Mendelssohnian contrasting material of the Act 3 Prelude—there is even an uncharacteristic slackening of pace. Normally, lingering is not on the agenda, and even a slow tempo, like that adopted for the sumptuously blended processional music in Act 2, is shaped with the eventual, powerfully delivered climax clearly in view. Elsewhere Abbado's concern to avoid over-weighty textures and laboured phrasing risks making some of Wagner's most sublime music—the Act 1 Prelude, for example—seem as restless as it is serene. But Wagner at the other extreme, as in the tub-thumping Act 3 March, is as atavistically thrilling as it has ever been.
Abbado seems to have sought vocal lightness too, and with mixed results. Waltraud Meier is a major strength. Incisive but never merely shrill, she relishes the words with unusual sensitivity; Ortrud's line about the sweetness of revenge has never been more honeyed in its venom. Meier's presence makes one regret that Wagner didn't allow Ortrud more material in Act 3, and she achieves a balance between vocal command and dramatic conviction that is hard to match. Hartmut Welker is a Telramund whose lack of vocal weight is not in itself a liability, except when the recording seems to underline his tendency to dryness of tone in long passages of declamation. Andreas Schmidt is a relatively unassertive Herald, Kurt Moll a dependably expressive King Henry, though here too the recording often seems to isolate his voice in an over-analytical manner.
As Elsa and Lohengrin, Cheryl Studer and Siegfried Jerusalem offer very different angles on lightness. Studer conveys less of Elsa's impulsiveness than on the live Bayreuth set, conducted by Peter Schneider; indeed, she can seem reticent to the point of disengagement, for all the undoubted refinement of her singing. Jerusalem can also sing quietly and smoothly, and does so to memorable effect, but the role's more histrionic phrases threaten a harshness, reminding us that Tristan and Siegfried are the roles with which he is most frequently associated today. This imposing Lohengrin is nothing if not the master of his own fate. Others, including Schneider's Paul Frey, convey more vulnerability.
The large ensembles never let you forget that this is a studio recording, with individual lines occasionally brought forward in a disconcerting way. The extreme dynamic range reminded me of Karajan's mannered but thrilling EMI recording, and it cannot be said that the orchestral sound suffers from the way in which the voices are treated. Once again the VPO covers itself with glory, and the chorus projects its extended contributions without counter-productive over-emphasis.
Complete on three rather than four CDs, the new DG scores over the competition, but the purely musical virtues of other versions cannot be dismissed out of hand. Solti's otherwise uneven cast is dominated by the remarkable duo of Placido Domingo and Jessye Norman. Yet it is Schneider, on Philips, who offers what is in most respects the best mainstream account currently available. It is full-bloodedly yet never crudely theatrical, and the recording balances voices and orchestra in a more pleasing and straightforward way than DG's new 4D production. Schneider makes the traditional and defensible cut after ''In fernem Land'', but his good all-round cast strengthens the argument that the most naturally effective Wagner interpretation is achieved in the theatre—and especially at Bayreuth.'