Paul
Lincke: Overtures, Volumes 1 and 2.
Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester Frankfurt conducted by Ernst Theis. CPO.
$16.99 each.
It is impossible to fully and fairly evaluate Paul Lincke (1866-1946) in
the 21st century without confronting and thinking through some
elements of the 19th and 20th. In the 1800s, the
influence of Jacques Offenbach (1819-1880) was far more extensive and far
deeper than more-recent audiences enamored of his incessant tunefulness may realize.
Franz von Suppé imitated Offenbach directly; the best of the Gilbert and
Sullivan operettas have a strong Offenbach feeling about them, and there are
some deliberate borrowings here and there; and there was more than a little
cross-pollination between Offenbach and Johann Strauss Jr. (including their
creation of, respectively, the companion waltzes Abendblätter and Morgenblätter).
There is a general impression that Offenbach’s influence waned rapidly after
his death, or rather that he became influential in fields quite different from
his own – specifically musical theater. In some ways this is correct –
certainly the operetta direction of Lehár veered sharply away from the
Offenbach model – but in other respects, Offenbach remained very much the pole
star for other composers.
This is where Lincke comes in. The two excellent CPO volumes of Lincke’s
music, ebulliently performed by the Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester Frankfurt
conducted by Ernst Theis, again and again sound so strongly “Offenbachian” that
listeners – especially lovers of Offenbach’s particular brand of genius – will
likely be astonished that the 18 works on the two CDs are not better known and
more frequently heard. But that gets to the difficulty of Lincke himself. A
lifelong Berlin resident and devoted lover of the city, the apolitical Lincke
had a highly successful career that was upended, as was so much else, by World
War I; indeed, there were signs it was already fading when hostilities broke
out. Lincke stopped writing for the stage altogether in 1917, channeling his
creativity in other ways both musical and nonmusical (he founded and ran a
highly successful publishing business). His pronounced attachment to
Offenbach’s style and predilections in harmony, orchestration and other areas happened
to coincide with the cultural demands of the Third Reich – and Lincke became (and
did not object to becoming) a musical figurehead for that odious regime, ending
up having a complicated relationship with it (much as Lehár did). Lincke’s
entwinement with the Third Reich inevitably colors analyses of his life and
music, and it is this that seems largely to have kept his music comparatively
unknown on international stages.
Strictly from a musical standpoint, this is a real shame, because the
unabashed delights to be heard again and again throughout the two CPO discs
provide a pleasurable anodyne to a great deal of more-intense 20th-century
music and, for that matter, to the stresses of 21st-century life. Each
of the discs opens with one of Lincke’s most-famous works. The first starts
with Berliner Luft, a kind of
semi-official theme song for Berlin as a city and the piece for which Lincke
remains best-known. The second disc starts with Frau Luna, Lincke’s first huge hit and a work that was re-staged
and reincarnated numerous times from its first performance in 1899 through to a
“gala-ized” version staged in 1935. These pieces are relentlessly tuneful,
excellently orchestrated, and packed with features that are instantly
recognizable as throwbacks to the Offenbach era, from types of tunes (waltz,
galop, etc.) to pacing to the use of specific instrumental highlights
(percussion touches, for example). Among the remaining pieces on Volume 1 are Lysistrata, Casanova, Venus auf Erden,
Grigri, an entrance piece called Siamesische
Wachtparade, and the waltz Verschmähte
Liebe – perhaps Lincke’s most-famous non-stage piece. Among the works on
Volume 2 are Nakiris Hochzeit, Ein
Libestraum (Lincke’s last large-scale piece, composed in 1940), Im Reiche des Indra, Das blaue Bild, the
waltz Sinnbild, and the Brandbrief-Galopp. There is no
particular order to the presentation, either chronological or otherwise, and in
some ways the sequencing is odd: the Siamesische
Wachtparade is on Volume 1, while the overture to the operetta from which
it is drawn, Nakiris Hochzeit, is on
Volume 2.
Each CD concludes with two of the unusually conceptualized pieces that
Lincke wrote after he ceased to produce stage works: they are overtures to
theater pieces that do not exist. Volume 1 includes Ouvertüre zu einer Operette and Ouvertüre
zu einem Ballett; on Volume 2 are Ouvertüre
zu einer Revue and Ouvertüre zu einer
Festlichkeit. This last was written in 1933 and performed at festivities
marking Lincke’s 70th birthday in 1936, and is his longest overture
– and one of his best. However, considering the fact that Lincke’s birthday was
being celebrated within the Third Reich and by the official enforcers of its
cultural norms may significantly undercut the enjoyment and appreciation of the
piece for some listeners.
Lincke’s music, heard without historical context, is a very strong example of just how extensive Offenbach’s influence was in the many years after his death – but it can be hard to separate Lincke from the situation in which he lived his later life. He actually died not in Berlin but in a town in the Harz Mountains, to which he fled as the Allies closed in on Berlin and eventually bombed most of it to rubble – including Lincke’s house. Lincke’s music is wonderful in practically every way, but some audiences may find it unpalatable to the point of being unlistenable because of its associations with the world within which so much of its composer’s later life took place.
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