This live Teatro Massimo recording of the “incomplete” version of Berg’s opera is something of an antidote to the Boulez/Stratas outing on DG. Where Boulez is careful and reverent to each note, conductor Stefan Anton Reck is, in the best possible sense, a little reckless. This is Lulu “hot”, camping it up for romantic fire, unafraid to drag a phrase here and there for effect, yet still respectful. Reck understands the meaning of each scene, the reason for the interludes (apart from being just great cover for a set change), and how the music serves the story; he has a finely tuned sense of pacing. Not to say Boulez does not, but he seems more concerned that all pitches are heard clearly and more concerned with score than action. Reck is happy with some mist: he finds it sexy, mysterious, and appropriate. Under him the Orchestra del Teatro Massimo is always in good form, and he allows it to serve the function of both accompanist (and commentary) during the sung portions and soloist, bringing the ensemble effectively to the foreground in the interludes and the Suite.
The only problem here–and it is a real problem–is the sound quality. Yes, it’s a live recording, where often a certain precision is traded for the captured energy of the concert hall, but here it just sounds flat, as if the singers were in another, much closer room. No voice can stand up to that sort of scrutiny. The orchestra sounds lush and alive on its own but does not mix well with the voices–a serious drawback for an opera.
The casting is excellent all around. Anat Efraty makes the title role appropriately eerie and seductive–she’s not afraid to go a little over the top as the part demands. Ian Storey, as Alwa the erstwile composer, is a little thin, but that works very well for the role, the character being a touch on the measly side. Theo Adam wheezes through the role of Schogolch (the asthmatic) with humor and aplomb. As the sinister Doktor Schön, Jürgen Linn is creepy, unafraid to twist his beautiful voice into ugly sounds. Roderick Kennedy as the Animal Trainer and Roderigo (the athlete) is disgusting, in the best, most beautiful way.
It is a strange choice not to perform the more accepted completed version (as finished by Friedrich Cerha, himself a composer of note and student of Berg), and therefore listening to this version will require a period of adjustment for serious Lulu enthusiasts. Here, the Jack the Ripper murder scene, which Berg didn’t live to finish, is done as a pantomime, using the music we have now come to know as the extracted Lulu Suite. You can rest assured she still dies in the end, shouts and all, but it feels a little less than satisfying dramatically.
