Der fliegende Holländer, Boston Symphony Orchestra, March 11, 13 and 15, 2005, Symphony Hall.

When the Boston Symphony Orchestra announced its plans for the current season, the music-loving public, BSO enthusiasts, and especially Wagnerians had much to rejoice about. After all, it is not an everyday occurrence that finds this world-class orchestra supporting a gleaming all-star cast of Wagnerians in this work. Indeed, for many, these performances promised to be the crown jewel of Maestro Levine’s first season as full-time music director. Given the opportunity to hear the work three times in five days, this very long-term subscriber even bought an additional ticket at the start of the season in keen anticipation of being overwhelmed by floods of orgiastic Wagnerian sound.

     Reliable information from insiders on Friday morning (March 11) prepared me for the biggest disappointment of the season: Deborah Voigt was ill and would not be singing that night; in fact, she might not sing at all. At the Thursday dress rehearsal, no one sang the role of Senta.

     However, the BSO management had contacted British soprano Elizabeth Byrne, who came to the rescue, singing the opening performance without the benefit of rehearsal. In retrospect, we must be grateful that Byrne went through a torturous and nightmarish ordeal to save the performance from cancellation. That being said, it remains a mystery how Byrne, according to the hastily inserted biographical note, sang the three Brünnhildes with the Scottish Opera and survived to tell the tale. Surely, the Scottish Opera must play in a 500-seat house and with a 55-piece orchestra. Apparently, management felt that it was better to have a soprano who has worked with Levine (fourth maid in Elektra and a small role in Busoni’s Doktor Faust) than to obtain the services of anyone else.

     From the opening of Act 2, it was painfully obvious that despite the inevitable nerves, this would be a compromised performance. Byrne barely survived the evening. She got through it and saved the show, yes, but it was very rocky going. Many times, with the orchestra in full cry and competing against far more appropriately cast artists, Byrne simply vanished from all mortal ken. After hearing that Byrne had suffered an even worse debacle on Sunday afternoon  (March 13), this listener said many prayers for the health of Voigt and for her return to the final performance. Readers who might have heard the live broadcast will no doubt be nodding their heads.

     This listener counts himself one of the lucky 2,650 who heard Voigt in the final performance. Voigt was phenom-enal, despite a few weak sounds in the lower-middle reg-ister, evidence of her recent illness. Her voice gleamed with power to spare, particularly in the top. She did not offer a detailed and minutely considered reading of the text; instead, hers was a performance of truly compelling sweep and grandeur. One can happily live with this experience for a very long time. It was all one had hoped and wished for—light-years away from her 1994 Levine-led recording.

      The orchestra at both performances was simply in a class by itself. It is no secret that with the arrival of Levine, the BSO is playing far better than it has in quite some time. Whatever one may say about Levine’s programming of contemporary American works, the reality is that he has invigorated the orchestra. I cannot remember the last time these very talented musicians played with such edge-of-the-seat commitment for his predecessor. From the opening bars of the storm-tossed overture, the audience knew that orchestrally at least, these performances would be special. The solo winds made every moment count; the brass was powerful and awe-inspiring and yet did not overwhelm; and the strings never sounded better. Levine’s interpretation is beyond masterly and bears no resemblance to his earlier recording. Eleven years of experience and growth have brought wisdom and maturity to his conception of the work. What a pity there was no commercial recording of the final performance. Rumor has it that the BSO management records all Levine performances for possible future release. Let us hope that at least in this case, management sees the practical commercial benefit of making the third and final performance available to the public.

     The biggest applause of all deservedly went to the 130-voice Tanglewood Festival Chorus. Singing as usual from memory and having had very little rehearsal time, they brought glory on themselves at every choral entrance. What a thrill it was to hear Wagner’s choral parts sung so accurately! The first words of the Norwegian sailors in Act 1 made the audience sit up and take notice. This was no mean feat after Levine’s stunning overture. The spinning chorus was a gem. Levine’s fastidious attention to dynamics here and throughout only served to enhance the superlative work of this fine chorus. The choral high point, the clash between the Norwegian sailors and the crew of the Dutchman, was a shattering experience at both performances. I have heard and assisted in the musical preparation of many a Holländer, and yet the final evening with Voigt is never to be forgotten.

     Juha Uusitalo, in the very demanding role of the Dutchman, offered an eloquent, powerful, and at the same time lyrical reading. He dared to sing as softly as possible. And he dared the audience to really listen to every syllable. He sang the text with such sincere conviction that one felt in the presence of the Dutchman himself, not merely a young Finnish bass-baritone on the brink of an international career. In the third performance, a very special chemistry with Voigt was in evidence: at last Uusitalo had a true partner to sing the long and taxing second-act duet.

     The young Russian bass Mikhail Petrenko, who sang the role of Daland, had a voice to match Voigt’s instrument. Some may quibble that he looked more like Senta’s brother than her father, but when floods of sound poured forth from his majestic bass, no one cared. The truly thankless role of Mary was well sung by Jane Bunnell. The part of the Steersman was capably handled by Paul Groves, who sang lyrically and did not push to make a bigger sound. The role of Erik is tough. One must sing over a large orchestra, with some dramatic moments calling for power. But the two extended parts of the role are lyric cavatinas that must be sung beautifully and with power. Alas, Alfons Eberz brought only sheer power and gruff bluff to the entire performance. His was a true caricature of the typical Heldentenor as a pushed-up baritone. It was impossible to feel sympathy for this character.

–Jeffrey Brody

Jeffrey Brody is the Boston Wagner Society’s music advisor.