Der Rosenkavalier (review)

Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier enjoys a long history on screen. German sound film pioneer Oskar Messter recorded an aria from the opera shortly after its Dresden premiere in 1911, and both Strauss and librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal collaborated in an abridged and altered silent film version (performed with live orchestral accompaniment) that appeared in 1926 in Dresden and London. In the last decade alone, at least ten DVD recordings have been released.

With this multitude of options, where then does the 2010 offering from Kultur fit in? As a restoration and digital remastering of the original 1962 35mm film by director Paul Czinner, one may safely assume this version offers a marked improvement over its VHS predecessor. Nevertheless, the DVD is not without flaws. The film lacks much of the visual and sonic clarity that some of the newer productions of Der Rosenkavalier offer, and beyond the limitations of the original recording technology, the transfer to a digital format seems to have resulted in a few notable problems. In at least two instances (28:58, 29:15) the sound inexplicably cuts out for a couple of seconds, and elsewhere inconsistencies occasionally appear in the film’s colors.

And yet, this recording stands as an important piece of operatic history. The original lavish production, directed by Rudolf Hartmann and designed by Teo Otto, inaugurated the Salzburg Festival’s Grosses Festspielhaus in July 1960, and the film, recorded in 1961, serves as guide to midtwentieth century singing and staging practices at the festival. Like many opera film directors, Czinner sought to replicate the theatrical experience on screen; before each act, camera shots present Herbert von Karajan entering the orchestra pit to thunderous applause (despite the lack of an audience). Although his filming philosophy was typical of the time, Czinner’s technical approach was atypical. He recorded with three cameras simultaneously (a technique borrowed from television) rather than the just one, and filmed the singers before recording the soundtrack, rather than prerecording the music and having the singers lip-synch on stage. This last fact may account for the often poor synchronization between the audio and video. Czinner employs primarily wide- and mid-range static shots, and fans of more recent operatic films may miss the numerous close-ups and active camerawork that have become de rigueur.

Despite its technical drawbacks, the film is captivating. Under Karajan’s conducting, the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra plays with assurance and finesse, and the cast (Sena Jurinac as Octavian, Anneliese Rothenberger as Sophie, and Otto Edelmann as Baron Ochs) delivers superb singing and acting. Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, in particular, gives a stunning, nuanced performance as the Marschallin. At 191 minutes, the production makes the standard cuts to the score, and the DVD offers no additional features beyond English subtitles and a list of scenes. Although this Rosenkavalier may not satisfy some contemporary tastes, fans of older operatic practices will not want to be without this recording.