Wednesday, May 28, 2025

Recovering the Forgotten Singer: Margarete Klose (1899-1968)

From the 1930s through the mid-20th century, Ebe Stignani, the acknowledged queen of dramatic mezzo-sopranos, reigned at La Scala, guested widely in Europe, appeared in North and South America (but never at the Met) and committed authoritative renditions of the classic Verdi roles to disc. (insert) Margarete Klose, would have given Stignani a run for the money if she had sung Amneris, Eboli, and Azucena in Italian rather than German. It was the practice in the major European opera houses to use the vernacular—La Forza del destino was Die Macht des Schicksals in Vienna; Götterdämmerung became Il Crepuscolo degli dei in Milan. Klose appeared in London, Brussels, Buenos Aires, and briefly in San Francisco and Los Angeles, but primarily in the German repertoire. A Bayreuth regular, she was a peerless Ortrud, Brangäne, Fricka; Germany and Austria heard her Verdi and Gluck roles auf Deutsch.

Her voice was exceptionally equalized, at home at the extremes of her range, her timbre rich and instantly recognizable. Klose was notable in the Classical utterances of Orfeo and Alceste and in the Romantic outbursts of Eboli and Azucena. In this clip, from a 1938 recording, the finely sculped phrases of Alceste demonstrate her gorgeous tone and scrupulous musicality. The Queen of Thessaly despairs of her husband’s death and beseeches pity from the nether gods in “Divinités du Styx ("Ihr Götter ew'ger nacht").

 

Klose was justly famous for her Orfeo, in both Italian and German. Here is the aria, “Che faro senza Euridice," sung in Italian on a post-War complete recording of Orfeo ed Euridice. 

 

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Klose conquers the extended range, the declamations and lyric phrases, and the dynamic contrast demanded by “O Don fatale (“Verhängnisvoll war das Geschenk)” from Don Carlo. The German-language text in no way inhibits Eboli’s Italianate passion. 


Klose’s seamless legato and luscious timbre combine for an irresistibly seductive Dalila. She sings “Mon Coeur s’ouvre à ta voix (Sieh, mein Herz erschließet sich).” In this mid-1940s clip, the Berlin Philharmonic is conducted by the legendary but allergic-to-recordings Sergiu Celibidache.

 

 

P.S. Highly recommended, from YouTube, are the arias from Un Ballo in Maschera and Il Trovatore, in German.