Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Remembering Jussi Bjoerling

Remembering Jussi Bjoerling

Remembering the Great Tenor Jussi Bjoerlng

BY WARREN BOROSON
NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM

Some opera singers, as wonderful as their voices were, almost completely faded away once they stopped singing. Perhaps their voices weren’t distinctive enough, or maybe just not good enough. Or they specialized too much — like Friedrich Schorr, famous for his roles in Wagner’s operas.
    In the case of one of my favorites, the tenor Richard Crooks, I suspect that his fleeting fame had something to do with his not making any movies. Perhaps that distinguishes him from tenor Mario Lanza, who made quite a number of films still occasionally shown on television, like “The Great Caruso.”
    Other older singers whose fame seems to have endured, or whose voices have been rediscovered, include Lucia Popp, Conchita Supervia, and — especially — Jussi Bjoerling (1911-1960). I meet a good many sophisticated music lovers who go on and on about the beauty of Bjoerling’s voice and about his clear superiority over other tenors. (Excepting Caruso.) They don’t become similarly enthusiastic about Benjamino Gigli or Mario del Monaco or Richard Tauber.
  I myself am one of Bjoerling’s admirers. In my 20s I collected just about every record he had ever made. When I actually heard him sing at the Met, I wondered: Why don’t critics and others in the audience acknowledge how singularly gifted he is?
   Trying to account for his superiority is not easy. The essential explanation may be that his voice was just unusually beautiful. Someone said that it was a combination of silver and gold — sweet but also powerful.
   His range was so broad that once, when a soprano he was singing with could not continue, he stealthily sang her soprano role for the remainder of the act.
   Critics point out that his voice is consistent. Whether he sang low or high, you know it’s the same singer — his chest voice didn’t differ much from his head voice. And when he sang  any note, he hit it directly in the center. As for his high notes, they were, as one critic pointed out, using the perfect word, “thrilling.” One conductor said that Bjoerling seemed incapable of making a musical mistake. What’s more, his voice did not change with age. Finally, his singing seemed effortless — even those thrilling high notes. I don’t have the impression that Caruso’s singing was effortness: I imagine him hurrying through an aria so as to rush offstage for a smoke.
     Yes, as an actor Bjoerling was rather wooden: “I am a singer, not an actor,” he said. But he acted with his voice. Other criticisms: His voice tended to have conveyed a tinge of melancholy, his Italian was none too good. And yes, he was no Einstein. I’ve never seen a comment he made about the roles he played. What might he have been if not a singer? His answer: a fisherman. What did he do in his spare time — besides fish? He would watch Abbott and Costello movies and Westerns. (There’s an old saying: The higher the voice, the lower the intelligence. It might apply to tenors, like Gigli, as well as sopranos.)  
      I think of Bjoerlng as another Heifeitz. The perfect musician.
     Alas, he drank too much. And if he hadn’t, he might have lived long enough to sing in “Otello” and “Lohengrin.” He was waiting until his voice darkened.
    After drinking, he could become quite nasty. A waiter, hearing him lash out at his family while in his cups, went home and destroyed his Bjoerling records. His wife was thinking of divorcing him, and even consulted a lawyer.
    But he could also be also kind and considerate — especially with new artists, encouraging them and giving them support.  
    He had feuds — for example, with Rudolph Bing, manager of the Met. Someone once said of Bing that beneath his cold and gruff exterior… beat a heart of stone. Actually, Bjoerling seemed to have tried Bing’s patience — continually demanding more money — agreeing to give a concert, then backing out.V
     He started singing at age 4, taught by his father, also a singer. He and his two brothers and their father formed a quartet, which visited the United States. He made his formal American debut in 1937, age 26, at the Met as Rudolfo in “Boheme.”
   He married twice, and his second wife, an opera singer herself, co-wrote Bjoerling’s biography.
   For a long time he had had heart problems, and he died of a heart attack at only 49.                                                                                                                                     ***
      Victoria de los Angeles said, “It was far, far more beautiful voice than you can hear on the records he left.”
     His duet with Robert Merrill of an aria from “Pearl Fishers” became a best-seller. And his recording of “Boheme” with de los Angeles, conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham, is considered, rightly, a classic.
    Sometimes I turn on the radio and hear a singer — and think, wow is he good! Then I think — it must be Jussi. And yes, it turns out to be Jussi.
   He refused to pay for a claque — members of the audience paid to applaud at the right time.
   “The day I have to pay for applause is the day I quit,” he said. The head of the claque said, “We’ll make an exception for you. You don’t have to pay.”  
    He was considered for the role of Caruso in “The Great Caruso,” and he even went to Hollywood for a tryout. The movie people wanted to alter his nose by plastic surgery so he would look more like Caruso — or have an actor play the role, while Jussi sang on the soundtrack. The role went to Mario Lanza.
   In Hollywood Mario Lanza invited him over, they embraced, talked about singing — got drunk. Later, Bjoerling would get angry when his kids praised Lanza’s singing.
    He was banned by the Nazis from appearing in the Vienna State Opera because he wouldn’t learn “Rigoletto” and “Boheme” in German.
     Tenors have a well-justified reputation as lechers. Jussi was an exception. He never fooled around.
     But Ezio Pinza did. The great basso went after every woman around him. Jeanette Macdonald, singing with Pinza in Canada, found the perfect antidote: “Cut it out.”
    Jussi heard that Pinza was hitting on his wife.
   Said he, “My God! And he isn’t even a tenor!”
   My favorite Jussi story:
   He saw a poster for one of his concerts — calling him the world’s greatest tenor. He objected.
    Who’s better? His agent asked.
   Gigli, said Jussi. 
    Gigli cannot sing lieder, said the agent.
   Jussi then named other tenors — Mario del Monaco, maybe Mario Lanza.
    The agent named a failing that each of the other tenors suffered from.
    Jussi thought about it. Then said, “You know, I just MAY be the world’s greatest tenor!”
    In my book, he certainly is.
                                                                                          ***
Bjoerling in Song

Salut demeure, “Faust,” Gounod
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJL1LqX9Uao&feature=related

“O Soava fanciulla,” “Boheme,” Puccini --with Renata Tebaldi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yn7bQXnIx_k&feature=related

Pearl Fishers’ Duet, Bizet — with Robert Merrill
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5PYt2HlBuyI&feature=related

Je crois entendre encore, Pearl Fishers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QFgPtmM7Ps&feature=related

Il mio tesoro, “Don Giovanni,” Mozart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYPRYWt5gQU&feature=related

Only a Rose, Romberg

Merrill on Bjoerling
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zqd5JU_Hxg

Because

La donna e mobile, Rigoletto, Verdi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwTLzAm2jPs&feature=related

Celeste Aida, Aida, Verdi

I Dream of Jeannie, Foster
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09oT6cehVLY&feature=related

E lucean le stelle, Tosca, Puccini
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2buzmEi0OxM&feature=related

Una furtiva lagrima, L’elixir d’amore, Donizetti
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aVjvFX98qMY&feature=related

Nessun dorma, Turandot, Puccini
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPEG914GATk&feature=related

Oh Holy Night

Song of India

Singing unaccompanied

The Bjoerlng Quartet