Schumann’s only opera has gotten, I am absolutely convinced, a completely undeserved bad rap. Written as a deliberate rejection of Wagnerism (whose founder also called Schumann’s opus “bizarre”), the work attempted to set a course for future German opera of all kinds, and the years 1847-49 find Schumann obsessed with what he considered one of his life’s most important projects. Already with the success of Das Paradies und die Peri, which caused a sensation when premiered four years earlier, people were expecting Schumann to compose an opera, and he dearly wanted to. For years he had been exploring possible subjects, and he finally set upon the story of Genoveva, a French legend that had spread into many countries (arriving in Germany in the 1700s) and was well known in Schumann’s day.
The story basically revolves around Siegfried–the Count Palatine–his young wife Genoveva, and Golo, a high-spirited and talented youth who believes that the Count does not know how to treat his wife, and also who falls passionately in love with her. The scenes unfold not so much as a dramatic story but as a series of actions that are all logical consequences of this situation. Neither the Count nor Genoveva can really control the incidences that befall them due to the uncontrollable passions of Golo, manifesting themselves first as love and then later as jealousy and revenge. In the meanwhile we experience the unjustified death of a bystander caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, the vengeance desired by another woman (essentially a witch, Golo’s nurse) who has a sympathetic side but gets in over her head for her own reasons. In the end, Golo hints that he is leaving and may kill himself, while Siegfried and Genoveva reconcile.
The work obviously lacks a type of dramatic structure that would make it palatable to audiences of the time, though Schumann’s trick of using his leitmotifs in a manner more representative of general thematic interests (instead of representing specific characters and actions, as in Wagner) is equally as effective as the Bayreuth master. Liszt and others praised the work, though its critical reception was mixed. But the fact is that it contains some absolutely ravishing music, and deserves a place in the concert, if not operatic, repertory. There are hardly any recordings out there, so this one goes a long way to rectifying the situation in the recorded realm. Kurt Masur ruled the roost for a while, but his effort on Berlin Classics seems unobtainable at the moment.
So this is a reading of some importance, and the first I have heard that really gets me excited about the music, top notch Schumann and well worth any Schumann-lover’s time. Don’t let it slip past you. The only downside is no English libretto, an unfortunate half-star deduction. The presentation is sufficient, thoughs not nearly as detailed as the Teldec production.
— Steven Ritter
