The last couple of days I listened to Merlin by Isaac Albeniz.  Well...
Let me say it like this:  I am glad that I have the CD so I can play it
once or twice a year - when I am in the mood for real camp.  To be fair:
no composer, not even the big bosses, would have had a real chance against
this monster of a libretto.  The singers have to utter sheer nonsense from
the first moment on.  (And they utter this English nonsense with the most
Spanish of Spanish accents.) Hofmannsthal, da Ponte, Illica:  I apologize
for ever thinking low of you.

The music is very Wagnerian, very.  It is okay, there are fine passages.
But when I am in the mood for Wagner (even I am sometimes attacked by this
strange longing) I take the original not an unintentional parody.

And what about the artists? Jose de Eusebio and the Orquesta Sinfonica de
Madrid play with enthusiasm and brio, much more than this strange stuff
deserves.  Carlos Alvarez sings Merlin with a muffled and boring baritone.
When you are tired of his never-changing intonation you can listen to Jane
Henschel and Ana Maria Martinez as Morgan and Nivian:  shrillness has got
new names.  Henschel is not as nerve-racking as Martinez who sounds
terrible:  during her last words on the disc you really fear that she will
collapse.  She sounds like a lyrical soprano who brutally shrieks herself
into a dramatic one.

Ah, but there is Placido Domingo as Arthur.  His tenor is as powerful and
clear as ever, he really gives us a convincing portrait of a naive youth
with a good soul.  The only problem is that this youth is 60 years old.
Nevertheless Domingo is (together with the orchestra) the only reason,
besides curiosity, to listen to this very, very strange piece.  It's like
watching Jeremy Irons playing young Romeo in a B-movie version.

Robert Peters
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