Anja Harteros was actually intended for this concert.
With Asmik Grigorian, the Munich Philharmonic have a spectacular stand-in at the start.
And a conductor with debut problems.
"Is that death?" she asks in the last of the Strauss songs, and then announces with "Liebestod": Yes, but what kind of death.
The prelude and finale from Wagner's "Tristan und Isolde" as a framework for the "Four Last Songs" of his self-proclaimed successor, all forced together for the uninterrupted first part of the concert, that's an idea that is as bold as it is clever.
With Asmik Grigorian, this becomes a completely natural matter in the Isarphilharmonie.
Also because she doesn't take your breath away with total identification like usual.
It's more of a cool, self-assured view of the five pieces, not a hot-blooded drama: in the song of the Grigorian, Strauss' "Abendrot" glows at an estimated twelve degrees.
Actually, Anja Harteros was intended for this program of the Munich Philharmonic.
The replacement is spectacular and drives some to Sendling with a "Search Map" note.
The fact that the charismatic Asmik Grigorian in Strauss can only be understood little of the text is also due to the lavishly instrumented orchestra and the widely spread intervals - colleagues like Renee Fleming always fall into a kind of West African dialect in the "Four Last Songs".
Conductor Thomas Guggeis remains too academic
Something else is amazing about Asmik Grigorian: the natural size and penetrating power of her soprano thanks to a distinctive alloy.
Also the rich middle range, the balance at every height level, the easy modeling.
Whether it's a triumphant gesture or the tricky high note at the end of "Liebestod": Everything is allowed to conquer space largely unforced.
And the fact that she only pays tribute to conductor Thomas Guggeis out of the corner of her eye could be self-protection.
The 30-year-old might have irritated her with his restless hitting technique.
Guggeis, Barenboim's pupil and future General Music Director of the Frankfurt Opera, makes it clear in the first part and also later in Bartók's Concerto for Orchestra: he is very familiar with the scores.
A great knowledge of hinge points, details and fields of force speaks from his conducting.
And yet Guggeis is more of a knowledgeable manufacturer than really delving into the works.
This may be due to the Munich debut situation or to a strange distance.
Especially with Bartók, where so much extra-musical, ambiguous, ironic resonates, everything remains a bit too academic.
A virtuosity that does not take you by surprise, the piece is more likely to be recalled.
Guggeis hardly made any real contact with the Philharmoniker.
But what isn't...
