There are a few recordings of Strauss where the singing, the conducting, the orchestra, and all other elements of the production and engineering work together to create a recording that is definitive across all standards. This is one such recording, and even as great and brilliant Rosenkavaliers by eminent conductors like Carlos Kleiber, Bernard Haitink and Christian Thielemann come with their own sets of strengths, Solti still trumps them all in a reading of the opera that not only sets the tone for the music but also for Strauss and Hofmannsthal's delightful Viennese drama. More so than Karajan and Erich Kleiber, Solti sets the music on a kind of propulsion and pulse that never flags, allowing the multiple scenes that usually substitute well for melatonin to capture the listener's attention.
Solti himself once consulted Strauss on the ideal baton technique for this opera, and the composer remarked as a matter of fact that one should look no further than the text to find the rhythmic pulse on which this Viennese clock runs. Solti took this to heart and produces a reading of the Straussian score that is clearly intertwined into the humor and comedy of the text. It is not nearly as indulgent as Karajan's classic Philharmonia interpretation, but this is for the better. The exchanges during the more placid and contemplative episodes of the opera are paced so naturally that any student of German can tune his ears to the sometimes witty, sometimes philosophical, and oftentimes intimate gabfest. In keeping with the majority of the work in his Straussian operas, Solti conducts this opera with the Vienna Philharmonic. The orchestra's assets have never been put in greater display than in this opera where the gossamer strings, the mellifluously dovetailed woodwinds, and the burnished, bronzen brass sections are balanced so create a perfect sound picture of the bygone Viennese epoch.
The cast couldn't be bettered. While Elisabeth Schwarzkopf and Maria Reining have been passed down by history as the definitive Marschallins, I would say that Regine Crespin betters them both by combining a naturally regal, feminine, beautiful, and sympathetic tone with a sense of expression that is always sensitive to the text without overtly focusing on too many details. This is a Marschallin of poise and elegance, of wisdom and refinement. Passionate and funny in Act I, she comes to her own in Act III and creates a portrait of the character that is described by a graciousness unparalleled by Schwarzkopf's cool interpretation. All the wisdom of the Marschallin in the first Act is played to a tee, with that deep and contemplative scene about time never sung better as it is in this recording. Only Reining could equal Crespin in her assumption of the part, and the French soprano betters her due to her security of voice. Crespin's Marschallin was thankfully captured at the prime of her instrument, producing the most sonorous sounds that truly define the grace and elegance of the Princess von Wurdenburg. A class act, if there were any other.
Yvonne Minton plays the Count Octavian di Rofrano in this recording. While many listeners consider Christa Ludwig to be the ultimate German mezzo, the Australian singer Minton in a way betters Ludwig's assumption by creating a count more boyish and more alive in comparison to the former's Octavian. Ludwig was never particularly fond of the role either, and in the end, even if her vocalism is memorable, Minton creates a character that is more alive, more youthful and vibrant, and more in keeping with the qualities of a callow youth in love. Along with Helen Donath's gorgeous and unparalleled bell-like Sophie, Minton sings the finest presentation of the Rose on disc. The glorious, lush orchestral backdrop is simply perfect and creates the ideal foil for these two talented singers to soar in one of the most beautiful scenes in the opera. But ultimate doesn't get better than when the two singers are joined by Crespin's Marschallin in what must be the best closing trio in recordings--sung with refulgent tone and intimately expressed to end a most memorable recording.
Manfred Jungwirth is delightful and vocally resplendent as Ochs, and he creates a dumb, funny, and comic relief of a character that plays into the irony of the opera. Luciano Pavarotti is perfect as the Italian tenor, and the rest of the cast rounds out what I deem as the finest Rosenkavalier of all time.