Sunday, June 26, 2022

George Gershwin's "Porgy and Bess", recorded by Cleveland Orchestra/Lorin Maazel (1976)

Gershwin's compositions straddled many genres -- jazz, classical, pop -- and some of his music continues to defy categorization even today.  "Porgy and Bess" was intended as an opera and is still referred to as such, but simple labels should always be tossed aside when dealing with Gershwin's music.  "Porgy and Bess" is no more an opera than, say, "Rhapsody In Blue" is a piano concerto.  The labels conjure up strict classical forms and styles -- they obscure rather than describe the emotional essence of the music.  

I'm no opera expert, I'm not even an opera fan, and I would consider myself an unbiased modern listener when it comes to "Porgy and Bess".  For me, it strays frequently into the realm of musical theatre, mainly thanks to its most famous tunes ("Summertime", "Bess, You Is My Woman Now", "Ain't Necessarily So") which have become American songbook standards.  In other aspects, it is unquestionably an opera, such as the turbulent subject matter (with the story unfolding in a suitably epic style), or the vocal timbre of the lead characters.   People would callously argue whether Gershwin was a "serious" composer or simply a opportunist who knew how to cater to public whims.  These sorts of arguments have always been dumb.  A couple of generations later, such polarizing rhetoric would sound silly if one was speaking about, say, The Beatles, but on the other hand, discussions of "serious" artists "selling out" still persist.  Gershwin undoubtedly has a Midas touch, by some measures, he was the richest composer of all time.

A 1975 NYT article about this recording of "Porgy and Bess", the first ever stereo recording of the entire opera, offers a fascinating snapshot of the times.  The article notes that the recording could not have been made even a few years previously due to the charged political climate.  An opera that highlights the stereotypes of South Carolina blacks, with music and lyrics written by northern Jews based on a play and libretto by white southerners?  The work had come to be viewed as racist, and there's little doubt that in today's climate, it would have been cancelled altogether.  Fortunately the citizenry of 1975 were smarter than that, which is not to say that the recording was without controversy.  The cast speak openly about the lack of career opportunities for black performers, the lack of role models, and the racial homogeneity of opera goers.  Sadly, not enough progress has been made on those fronts in the past decades, and other sectors of the entertainment industry are hardly immune ("Oscars So White", for example).    

The full three-hour opera makes for a compelling listen. Its biggest flaw is the lack of truly star-making, transfixing performances, by this cast of mostly (then)-unknown artists.  McHenry Boatwright as Porgy is the clear highlight, with a voice and presence that strongly contrasts his character's physically feeble nature.  His desperate search for Bess in the final scenes is riveting, ending the opera on a wrenching emotional high.  Francois Clemmons dominates his scenes as Sportin' Life, displaying a natural, sleazy charisma that captures the essence of the character perfectly.  Maazel and the Cleveland Orchestra hold their own, although I'm hard pressed to understand exactly what kind of interpretative vision the conductor provided.  I feel that the opera should be, for lack of a better word, bigger.  The Houston Grand Opera recording from the same year -- a proper touring stage productions -- would be my next purchase.       

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