Adoring the Anti-Diva: Christa Ludwig

Today is the birthday of my very favorite mezzo ever, Christa Ludwig! This provides an excellent excuse for me to gush, so brace yourselves, Gentle Readers.  I've been an admirer of hers since first listen, which was to her Brangäne for the 1966 Böhm Tristan.  I will always imagine "Habet Acht!" in her voice.  The fact that Ludwig's Brangäne is so emotionally as well as vocally rich contributes no small part to the recording's success, for me.  (She recorded the role again under Karajan.)  So much for the grounds of initial respect.  But it was her Leonore which made me fall in love.

With Jon Vickers, (c) EMI, presumed from Fidelio recording sessions

As long-time readers of this blog will know (all too well?) I have a bit of a thing about Fidelio.  The first recording of the opera I heard was the Bernstein/Janowitz/Kollo.  But the one I decided I needed to own was the famous Otto Klemperer recording.  I still remember the impatience with which I stripped the award-sticker-bearing cellophane from the CDs.  I already knew it was legendary.  I wanted to know what it was like.  And I had a quasi-religious experience sitting in the corner of my couch.  There were pictures of the recording sessions in the booklet: Ludwig was a very ladylike figure in suit, pearls, and perfect posture behind the microphone.  I stared at the photograph trying to see what she was channeling to create Leonore: tender and courageous, resolute on the edge of despair.  And I listened to the recording--over, and over, and over again.  I'm sure the way I bonded with it has something to do with the fact that I was living alone and writing a Master's thesis at the time, but I also think it is just pretty darn great.  Someday I plan to own Ludwig's live Fidelio under Böhm, and find the DVD of the 1963 Berlin performance.  But my obsession with her artistry goes far beyond Fidelio.

I once sent my Respected Father--in response to an inquiry! little did he know what he was letting himself in for--an e-mail trying to represent Ludwig's repertoire.  It included Monteverdi, Bach, Mozart, Brahms, Saint-Saens, Mahler (criminally abbreviated,) Wagner (I could listen to her invoking Wotan and Freia forever,) Rachmaninov, and "I am easily assimilated" from Bernstein's Candide:   Obviously I left a lot out, including Carmen (I had a hard time imagining that one, I admit, but I was won over,) and her very moving Suzuki and Adalgisa.  (Vaguely apropos, Ludwig has my vote for best opera memoir title ever, as well: Und ich wäre so gern Primadonna gewesen.)  Another happy confluence of my obsessions occurs when Ludwig sings Lieder; check out the dark, passionate energy of her Gretchen am Spinnrade, or the text-caressing of Sapphische Ode.  I recently decided to treat myself to the (cheap for a set!) 5-CD collection The Art of Christa Ludwig, which, while far from exhaustive, does include lots of Lieder, and makes me very happy.

In addition to all this fabulousness, Christa Ludwig strikes me as the sort of warm, sharp-sighted person who would, were she an aunt, dispense good coffee, possibly biscuits, and definitely no-nonsense advice.  See, for instance, this three-part interview (in French.)  Predictably, my favorite bit is when the interviewer asks if she has a favorite role, and she answers "Fidelio--Leonore in Fidelio," almost before the words are out of his mouth... and then, after a pause, adds with burbling laughter: "Or the witch, in Hansel and Gretel! That was fun!"  Then there are gems like her dancing a tango, or the column on page three of a brochure from the Salzburg Festspiele where she cheerfully reminisces, and talks about the present and future of opera with equal good spirits.  And she quotes Rilke (original here):

I live my life in ever-growing circles
that reach out over all things.
I may not bring the last task to completion
but I will make the attempt. 

I circle around God, around the oldest tower,
and I have been circling for thousands of years
and I don't know yet--am I a falcon, a storm,
or a great song?

 May she have many more full years.