Ah, Der fliegende Holländer. The very name conjures forth the scent of brine and the taste of the North Sea's chill kiss. Wagner's first significant plunge into the mythic depths that would define his colossal career, a work still resonating with the primal forces of storm and human yearning. One recalls, of course, the composer's own harrowing sea voyage from Riga to London in 1839 aboard the schooner "The Thetis" – a journey beset by tempest and delay, where he took refuge in the tales of the spectral Dutchman from his sailors. That experience, etched deeply into his soul, surely infused the very fabric of this opera with an authentic, salt-laced dread and longing.
What’s truly striking, and I find myself pondering it anew with each listen, is how strangely this work predicts Wagner’s later, grander notions of sacrifice, longing, and ultimately, union. Here, in the story of the cursed sailor and the unwavering maiden, we find the very genesis of themes that would consume him for decades, long before his deep engagement with Schopenhauer's philosophy. Senta's desperate act, her willingness to hurl herself into the abyss for the Dutchman's redemption, prefigures the redemptive power of love and the dissolution of individual will that marks his later masterworks. It's as if the deep, churning waters of his subconscious were already echoing the philosophical truths he would later consciously embrace.
And now, Decca, that grand old vessel of sound, brings us a fresh voyage, catalogue number 487 0952, setting sail this past April. My anticipation, I must confess, was as taut as a marlin spike.
The opera, in its raw, elemental power, stands as a crucible. It asks much of its interpreters: not merely vocal prowess, but a profound understanding of the windswept desolation and the glimmer of redemptive light. Many a captain has navigated these waters before – the stoic Klemperer, the fiery Solti, the introspective Karajan. Each has left their indelible mark, like barnacles on a ship's hull, making any new entry a matter of keen scrutiny.
A Bracing Voyage
From the very first surge of the Overture, Edward Gardner, at the helm of the Norwegian National Opera Orchestra and Chorus, steers a course that is, quite simply, bracing. He plunges us directly into the maelstrom with a propulsion that refuses to linger unduly. I found myself gripping the edge of my seat, caught in the taut, immediate drama he cultivates. This isn't a Holländer that wallows in its own grandeur; it's one that embraces its taut construction and storm-lit sweep unapologetically. The orchestral playing is precise, cutting through the tempest with a focused energy that truly thrilled me.
Voices in the Gale
Now, to the voices, those human instruments wrestling with the tempest within and without. The casting, particularly of the central figures, is crucial, and here Decca has placed its faith in a pairing that certainly captures the imagination: Lise Davidsen as Senta and Gerald Finley as the Dutchman.
Davidsen's Senta is, for me, the undeniable star of this particular constellation. Her performance is nothing short of towering. From the very first notes of the ballad, sung initially with an almost otherworldly piano, her control and sheer vocal power are utterly compelling. She doesn't portray a fragile romantic; rather, she embodies a woman driven by elemental forces, a force to reckon with, and her formidable vocal reserves are deployed with stunning effect in full cry. There's a palpable sense of regret that this might be her first – and perhaps last – Senta on disc, given her declared intention to move to other Wagnerian heroines. Such is the ephemeral nature of these vocal blossoms.
Gerald Finley's Dutchman, by contrast, offered a more nuanced, perhaps even more introspective, portrayal. His suave bass-baritone is certainly present, and he wrings every last psychological nuance from text and line. However, I did find that in the crucial duet with Davidsen, his voice, while sensitive and thoughtful, felt at times rather swamped by the orchestra and the sheer amplitude of his colleague. His is a weary, aristocratic Dutchman, perhaps lighter in voice than some are accustomed to, yet his inwardness provides a compelling counterpoint to Davidsen's radiant strength.
Supporting Anchors and a Glorious Chorus
The supporting cast is uniformly strong, providing firm anchors in this turbulent world. Stanislas de Barbeyrac's Erik is impressively spinto-heavy yet retains a lyrical quality, bringing real poetry to what can often be an ungrateful role. Brindley Sherratt's Daland is gloriously grounded, bluff, and straightforward, a refreshing pragmatist. Eirik Grøtvedt's Steersman possesses an unusual softness and a lovely note of tenor sweetness, making his brief moments truly memorable. And Anna Kissjudit's Mary certainly boasts an ample, vibrant hue.
But the true glory of this recording, beyond the principal soloists, is the Chorus of the Norwegian National Opera. They are magnificent. Their contribution is lusty and alive, bringing the bustling scenes to vivid life. You truly believe this is a crew who knows their way around a tempest, and their collective sound is simply thrilling.
The Sound of the Sea
The recording itself, drawn with remarkable precision from two live concert performances in 2024, captures the raw energy of the moment without any of the distracting interferences one sometimes encounters. Its astonishing clarity and the absence of extraneous stage or audience noise lends it a pristine quality that makes it sound remarkably akin to a meticulously crafted studio recording. This is a considerable achievement, meaning the listener is entirely immersed in Wagner’s turbulent sound-world. The sound is excellent, with little ambient noise to pull one from the illusion, and a balance that allows orchestral detail to shine without brass overwhelming other sections. This live capture, in fact, contributes significantly to the palpable sense of drama and immediacy that permeates the entire performance, offering the best of both worlds: live vitality with studio purity.
In sum, Decca's new Holländer sails into port as a most significant addition to the discography. While the vocal balance in the central duet might invite discussion for some, Davidsen's Senta alone is worth the price of admission. Gardner's propulsive, unyielding direction ensures that the opera's dramatic pulse is felt keenly throughout, a visceral journey across turbulent seas. For those who seek a Holländer that is fiercely accented, swiftly paced, and alive with a fresh sense of urgency, this recording, available on two CDs or in various digital formats, is a compelling contender, a powerful testament to Wagner's enduring genius. It is a triumph in its own right, and one that encourages repeated listening, much like the relentless, hypnotic churn of the ocean itself.
Opera: Richard Wagner - Der fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman)
Label: Decca Classics
Catalogue Number: 487 0952
Release Date: April 18, 2025
Format: 2 CDs (also available for digital download in various qualities including MP3, FLAC/ALAC/WAV, and Hi-Res FLAC/ALAC/WAV)
Performers:
The Dutchman: Gerald Finley (bass-baritone)
Senta: Lise Davidsen (soprano)
Daland: Brindley Sherratt (bass)
Erik: Stanislas de Barbeyrac (tenor)
Mary: Anna Kissjudit (mezzo-soprano)
Steersman: Eirik Grøtvedt (tenor)
Orchestra & Chorus: Norwegian National Opera Orchestra and Chorus
Conductor: Edward Gardner
Recording Venue: Oslo Opera House, Oslo, Norway
Recording Dates: August 2024 (drawn from two live concert performances)
Producer: Jørn Pedersen
Engineer: Arne Akselberg
Total Duration: Approximately 131 minutes
