Johan Botha tenor
1 Regina Schörg soprano
2 Michaela Schuster soprano
Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra
Simone Young conductor
Remembering a Pledge Fulfilled
by Wilhelm Sinkovicz
What an amazement – a new recording of
Bohème at the Vienna Volksoper? This
is in and of itself a risky venture. Operalovers
are a spoiled lot – especially when Puccini
and beautiful singing are concerned. And Viennese
audiences are especially picky. They are true
melomaniacs – continuing to prefer Donizetti over
Richard Wagner’s so-called advances in the 19th
century, for example. And the seventies and eighties
were an era of beautiful voices. This brings us,
however, to the small paradox that beautiful voices
don’t always mean beautiful singing. Stated even
more emphatically: beautiful voices and beautiful
singing have less and less to do with each other.
Recent opera history has seen a quick-changing
succession of amazing new voices, but the main
focus is increasingly on a pure – often perceived as
erotic – timbre. Truth to tell, these vocal phenomena
– whether celebrated for their Italianità or their
sensuality – are less and less capable of real singing.
Actually, they don’t really sing at all, if one measures
them by the standards of true bel canto singing. Even
Verdi’s contemporaries missed this in his works,
because the master placed too much emphasis on
expression and too little on the art of composing
balanced vocal lines. This was the argument of
critics mourning the end of the bel canto genre as
found in its zenith in the works of Rossini and Bellini.
According to purists, Verdi – and later Puccini, to
an even greater extent – ultimately contributed
to the downfall of the art of singing. And singers
in the 20th century have taken this modern vocal
style, vulgarized it even more – and then applied it
to every type of music imaginable. If one compares
this to the artificial vocal artistry of singers from the
early ages of the gramophone, who wanted to save
at least some remnants of bel canto culture on wax
cylinders, then what was practiced on opera stages
of the world towards the end of the 20th century
must be simply and brutally called noise. With some
colors and shades, but still noise. What does this
have to do with a CD of Wagner’s works? A lot. We’re
talking about Johan Botha, of course. About Johan
P. Botha, as his name was printed on the program
of the Vienna Volksoper. He appeared in the role
of Rudolf in a new German-language production of
Bohème, and was the reason that connoisseurs in
the audience sat up and pricked their ears at his
first entrance: a singer with discernable phrasing
and finely chiseled vocal modulations long thought
to have died out; heard in recent history only from a
few little-known outsiders…
Vienna regulars still rhapsodize about the big
aria and Botha’s high C, brilliantly begun and slowly
reduced to a piano, about his pianissimos in the duets
– specifically the one in the third act. And everyone
who said at the time that the South African tenor’s
voice would begin to develop from the lyric to the
heldentenor was right. What listeners heard was a
pledge. And it was quickly fulfilled. Botha soon began
making forays into the world of German opera. And
because he could really sing – as he had sufficiently
proven with Puccini – it seemed as though the Italian
heldentenor roles had been composed just for him.
When had a tenor sung such a Radames? With
such sparkling clear and brilliant development – but
also such profound and careful shaping in the often
overlooked chamber musical scenes in this work.
Vienna has become Botha’s artistic home. This
showed itself in the tenor’s lack of conceit when
it came to supporting the Volksoper – the “little
sister” of the Vienna State Opera – in an ambitious
undertaking: Wagner’s Meisteringer von Nürnberg.
No one could have imagined a better Walther von
Stolzing than Botha – and despite the fact that
the tenor has long been engaged at the larger,
international, more fashionable theater on Vienna’s
Ring – he sang alongside Falk Struckmann’s Hans
Sachs and gave his triumphal debut in a role which
has come into disrepute as unsingable.
This was Botha’s debut as an incredible Wagner
singer, and the tenor has confirmed this fact many
times since. Whenever Botha learned a new Wagner
role, audience at the premieres always reported
a touch of the legendary. In Botha’s first Vienna
Lohengrin, for example, amazement was rampant
in scenes where the main character – where most
colleagues are fighting an uphill battle to muster
their vocal reserves and simply survive – sang and
sang and sang – brilliantly and with no apparent
effort. During the Grail narration, he stems his
powerful body against the sword which has been
driven into the ground, and, well, narrates – every
syllable clear, perfectly phrased and articulated. If
Wagner had known Botha, he wouldn’t have deleted
the second part of this monolog, which hardly any
singer now dares to take on. And we finally hear this
part again on this CD. Together with Simone Young,
one of the tenor’s most significant partners on the
conducting podium, Botha has accomplished a
studio performance which he previously realized on
stage with Daniel Barenboim in Berlin – as the first
tenor in half a century and to the astonishment of the
audience.
Such positive shocks happen regularly during
Botha’s performances. To recount another example,
Botha was performing Gustav Mahler’s Lied von
der Erde under Giuseppe Sinopoli at the Vienna
State Opera. It was time for the tenor entrance in
Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde, one of the horrors
of every singer, where mercifully, wave after wave
of orchestral melody more than once covers up
and washes away the singer’s helplessness. This
time, the Vienna Philharmonic played for all it was
worth, nowhere holding back. Botha shone through
all fortissimos, remained perfectly relaxed even
when Mahler requires the singer to hold a high A for
several bars and decrescendo to a piano. Botha did
it. “Does he know how hard that is?!“ whispered one
or another in the audience. “Let’s hope no one tells
him!“ was the answer.
Since then, fans can’t wait for the next new
Botha role, especially in Wagner and Richard
Strauss operas, which have been completely
orphaned in recent years. Finally, a Kaiser for Frau
ohne Schatten who is worthy of this title; finally one
who is not afraid to take on Apollo in Daphne. It was
perfectly logical to expect that the new Parsifal
(2004, Vienna State Opera) would be child’s play for
Botha. Just as his involvement in the concertante
performance of Eugen d’Albert’s Tiefland with the
Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra under Bertrand
de Billy (recently released on CD) helped rehabilitate
a completely misunderstood work. Then, there are
the assets of this unmistakable tenor voice to marvel
at: radiance with no loss of power at the top of the
range, a range of colors allowing every possible
expressive nuance and – the really amazing thing in
a singer with so much power – the ability to carefully
model phrases and adapt them perfectly to the text
at hand.
Vienna’s music-lovers are already excited that
Botha will soon be singing a new Wagner role: Erik in
Flying Dutchman. And they are already speculating
about what his Tristan would be like. Most assume
that they won’t have to wait much longer. When
one listens to this CD, one can already imagine
Siegmund.
Dr. Wilhelm Sinkovicz is the lead music reviewer of
the Austrian daily newspaper Die Presse.
Translation: Elizabeth Gahbler