What can I write about a Part II of something I didn’t like as a Part I?

Before I dive right in, let’s cover the basics again:

Haydn’s oratorio Il Ritorno Di Tobia was composed in 1775.

This recording harkens back to 1971.

Despite the age of this recording (42 years, as of today’s date), I think it sounds as fresh as if it had been recorded last week. (Which is more than what I could say about most of yesterday’s selection. It didn’t sound fresh at all.)

The Cast:

Sarah: Veronika Kincses soprano
Raphael: Magda Kalmar soprano
Anna: Klara Takacs contralto
Tobias: Attila Fulop tenor
Tobit: Zsolt Bende baritone

The Musicians:

Budapest Madrigal Choir
Hungarian State Orchestra
Ferenc Szekeres

Incidentally, I couldn’t find much information on the Budapest Madrigal Choir or Ferenc Szekeres. The Hungarian State Orchestra changed its name to the Hungarian National Philharmonic.

I can tell you soprano Magda Kalmar was 27 when this was recorded. Contralto Klara Takcs was 26. Soprano Veronika Kincses was 23. Tenor Attila Fulop was 29. And Haydn was 43 when he composed Il Ritorno Di Tobia.

I can also tell you that, so far, I like Part II better than Part I. I’m not sure why.

However, I think it’s because the first two tracks on today’s CD feature tenor Attila Fulop and soprano Veronika Kincses, both accomplished singers with fine voices.

Track 1 (“Recitative No. 6a: Sara, mia dolce sposa”) is a duet between Tobia and Sarah, played by the aforementioned singers, respectively.

Track 2 (“Aria No. 6b: Quando mi dona”) features a solo performance by Attila Fulop and lots of ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhhh-ah type running up and down a scale with his voice. I’ve heard worse.

Track 3 (“Recitative and aria No. 7ab: Somme grazie ti rendo?..Del caro sposa”) is another solo performance by soprano Veronika Kincses. I’m not sure I had even heard of her prior to yesterday’s ill-fated listening experience. But, I must say that I’m glad to have discovered her. She also does the ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhhh scale climbing – often hitting notes that Attila could only dream of when he was a wee lad with cheek of tan.

Track 4 (“Recitative No 8: Riverlarti a Dio”) features the entire cast. And that’s where I sort of part ways with this Haydn oratorio. I’m not a fan of some of these vocal ranges. Or maybe it’s the performers themselves. Can’t tell.

Again, I must state state that when I don’t dig a singer or an oratorio or a mass or whatever I do not mean that there’s something inherently wrong with whatever it is to which I’m listening. These are very fine, professional vocalists. And Haydn needs no defense. The old saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder” applies most especially to stuff like this. For a guy raised on the Beatles, Yes, Black Sabbath, Emerson Lake & Palmer, Journey, Led Zeppelin, the Who, Rush, et al, I think I deserve a gold star for evening wanting to listen to Il Ritorno Di Tobia, let alone actually doing so.

Until I began studying opera a few years ago (when I listened my way – for six straight months! – through everything Mozart composed), I thought like Jerry Seinfeld did when it came to opera:

I’m still not as gung-ho as Kramer apparently was. But I have learned to appreciate it a great deal more.

By the way. I learned another new word this morning: Recitative. All along, I’d read it as an English word meaning to recite. And it is that. But its definition, according to Wiki, is much richer than that (those Wiki people don’t screw around when it comes to defining words). Here it is:

Recitative /ˌrɛsɪtəˈtiːv/, also known by its Italian name “recitativo” ([retʃitaˈtiːvo]), is a style of delivery (much used in operas, oratorios, and cantatas) in which a singer is allowed to adopt the rhythms of ordinary speech. The mostly syllabic recitativo secco (“dry”, accompanied only by continuo) is at one end of a spectrum through recitativo accompagnato (using orchestra), the more melismatic arioso, and finally the full-blown aria or ensemble, where the pulse is entirely governed by the music.

Recitative does not repeat lines as formally composed songs do. It resembles sung ordinary speech more than a formal musical composition. The term recitative (or occasionally liturgical recitative) is also applied to the simpler formulas of Gregorian chant, such as the tones used for the Epistle and Gospel, preface and collects.

There you have it.

Track 5 (“Chorus No. 9: Odi le nostre voci”) is a total surprise. For me, this is one of those stop-the-presses kind of performances. It’s a composition just shy of nine minutes in length. A little over half-way through (at about the five-minute mark) it shifts gears totally. There’s a pause of about three seconds and then the chorus of voices come in, like a round, each building on the other, rising, rising, rising, getting grander and more spine-tingly.

Listen:

It starts 1:25:21 in the track above. That’s the pause. Then the male chorus begins, lower register first. Then slightly higher. Then the female chorus. Then slightly higher. The intertwining sopranos hitting those stratospheric notes combined with the tenors and baritones…superb. Magical.

This music caught me flat footed. I wasn’t expecting it. I like it, a lot.

Now, I don’t know if that’s because what preceded it wasn’t among my most favorite Haydn compositions, or if this was just really inspired, magical stuff. But I like this Chorus quite a bit.

The delightful track in the YouTube clips ends at the 1:29:05 mark.

Another favorite track is Track 7 (“Aria No. 10b: Come se a voi parlasse”) featuring soprano Veronika Kincses and contralto Klara Takacs, which is surprising because I don’t usually dig the contralto range. But this track features a lot of nice high notes, even from Takacs.

Finally, Track 9 (“Aria No. 11b: Non parmi esser”) is another triumph for soprano Veronika Kincses. Lots and lots of those wonderful high notes that I enjoy so much.

Overall, I like Part II of Il Ritorno Di Tobia better than Part I. For better or worse, tomorrow will treat me to Part III.

Stay tuned.