RECORDINGS & REVIEWS
Gianandrea Gavazzeni
20.10.1972 ATTILA
Orchestra and Chorus of the Theatre of New Jersey
Alfredo Silipigni
OPERADIS
Recordings
of Attila by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed in the following publications:
19.12.1972 ATTILA
Orchestra e Coro del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino
Riccardo Muti
Nicolai Ghiaurov (Attila); Leyla Gencer (Odabella); Veriano Luchetti (Foresto);
Norman Mittelmann (Ezio); Ottavio Taddei (Uldino); Mario Rinaudo (Leone)
Opera Depot – 2 CDs
Recordings
of Attila by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed in the following publications:
(…) E torniamo ora a queste recite fiorentine del dicembre 1972, parlando del quartetto di cantanti ivi impiegato (tutti, curiosamente, tra i 40 e i 44 anni). Dopo il debutto nella difficile parte, compiuto nell’ottobre dello stesso anno nel New Jersey, Leyla Gencer tornava a Odabella negli ultimi anni della sua gloriosa carriera (che si concluderà nel 1983). Non si dirà nulla di sconveniente nel rilevare come i mezzi vocali della cantante turca fossero un po’ appannati, o come lo slancio eroico della cabaletta d’entrata non trovasse perfetta rispondenza in un’emissione forse mai stata veramente adatta al ruolo: ma, grazie anche alla comune passione per la ricerca musicale condivisa con Riccardo Muti (con cui collaborerà ancora a Firenze per Macbeth nel 1975 e in tanti anni a Milano, alla guida dell’Accademia), per l’intensità del fraseggio (che meraviglia, quel “Fuggente nuvolo”, sia nella poesia delle mezzetinte che nell’amorevole accompagnamento dal podio!) e lo slancio della leonessa (anche in un re bemolle sovracuto fuori ordinanza), la Gencer è una Odabella da tenere a mente. Diversissima, ovviamente, dalla Stella che la precedette a Roma’e dalla belcantista Studer che la seguirà a Milano, ma non meno interessante. Se la fulgida vocalità di Veriano Luchetti, vero habitué del ruolo assai acuto di Foresto, è perfettamente adatta alla lettura corrusca eppure analitica di Muti (che, viceversa, non sembrava sintonizzarsi perfettamente con il Cecchele della Rai), l’allora quarantenne canadese Norman Mittelmann, pur con qualche limite di temperamento, ha una vocalità cuprea ed estesa in alto, affatto idonea al personaggio, piuttosto tetragono, di Ezio, che coglie con maggiore efficacia del Guglielmo Tell di qualche mese prima. E infine Nicolai Ghiaurov, che resta il fenomeno vocale capace di soggiogare gli spettatori per tre decenni, e il cui enorme carisma emerge anche in una serata in cui qualcosa non sembra funzionare alla perfezione. Quello che il disco non può ovviamente conservare è l’efficacia della regia di Sandro Sequi e la bellezza delle scene di Pier Luigi Pizzi (con quell’apparizione di Papa Leone in un campo di grano che rimarrà un modello), ma quello che invece sa esaltare, grazie anche al notevole miglioramento acustico garantito da questa rimasterizzazione dei nastri originali, è la concertazione di Muti, che prende una strada ben diversa dai pur lodevoli precedenti di Giulini e Bartoletti e, ancor più che a Roma, unisce lo slancio elettrizzante delle strette all’accento epico dei grandi finali, con un’essenzializzazione quasi novecentesca di colori e fraseggi: la strada verso l’Attila belcantistico degli anni Ottanta è già tutta qui, in un cammino verdiano che, a Firenze, culminerà in un Otello che rimane, forse, il più folgorante dei tanti nella carriera del Maestro Muti.
E Muti porto quei barbari fuori dall'oblio
Attila di Giuseppe Verdi è un melodramma brusco e spiccio. Composto in pieno Risorgimento, ha per sfondo un'Italia in balia dei barbari. Gli studiosi l'hanno sempre giudicata un'opera poco significativa. Non è vero. L'ha dimostrato Riccardo Muti, facendola riemergere dall'oblio nel 1970 e poi riproponendola diverse volte, anche al Metropolitan di New York. La collana di incisioni storiche Maggio Live (in coproduzione con l'etichetta discografica del Maestro, RM Music), ne pubblica adesso in doppio cd l'esecuzione registrata al Teatro Comunale nel dicembre ‘72.
Cast di voci bronzee, valorose, ognuna eroica a suo modo: Nicolai Ghiaurov, che del protagonista grandioso e belluino sa pure lumeggiare le ombre psicologiche, il saldo Norman Mittelmann, generale romano, censurabile soltanto per l'italiano non nitido, il raggiante Veriano Luchetti e Leyla Gencer, l'unica donna, che da sola tiene testa a tutti gli uomini. Muti, di "Attila", esalta la polpa sinfonica, la teatralità impetuosa, la corrusca stringatezza così come la poesia di certe pagine. Per esempio la smagliante cantabilità degli archi nel Preludio, imbevuta di dolcezza e di palpiti, un tratto caratteristico della scrittura verdiana, sempre. Gli stessi archi, che sembrano già quelli di "Traviata", introducono pure la romanza del soprano al primo atto, mentre i filamenti di fiati e arpa che la sostengono si proiettano addirittura fin verso le rive del Nilo, ad " Aida", venticinque anni dopo. Dunque una partitura tutt'altro che convenzionale, a cui questa lettura fiorentina contribuì a restituire buona reputazione.
Dal passato Ritorna "Attila" nell'esecuzione registrata al Teatro Comunale nel ‘72.
A destra, Muti
Neither ease nor expediency prompted me to pair these releases in a single review. I did so because they have so much in common. Both are bel canto operas; both fell out of favor for a time; both owe their modern exhumation to the efforts of prominent conductors (the very ones, in fact, leading the performances at hand); both have the same basic plot (a tyrant, intent on dissolving a once advantageous marriage, ruthlessly attempts to rid himself of a virtuous wife on trumped up charges); and finally (and perhaps most important), both title roles were created by Giuditta Pasta, a description of whose talents seems, at this point, appropriate in light of the roles' vocal and dramatic requirements. Grove describes Pasta's voice as “rebellious,” and goes on to note that though it was not “free from imperfection, the individuality of her impersonations and the peculiar and penetrating expression of her singing made the severest critics forget any faults ... in the sympathy and emotion she irresistibly created.” Further, “the dignity of her face, form and natural gestures fitted her eminently for tragedy, for which she (possessed) the necessary fire and energy.” It is worth noting that before she created Beatrice, Pasta had performed like service for Bellini in La Sonnambula and Norma, an informational tidbit I offer not to titillate trivia enthusiasts but to suggest that the composer really intended his latest heroine to combine the appealing sweet vulnerability of an Amina (a mature one, admittedly) with the ferocity and righteous indignation of his Druid priestess. (Cailas' interpretation of Anna Bolena all but proves that much the same can be said to describe that heroine as well, though the opera preceded all three of the others. A pity she never got around to Beatrice!)
All of which is an unduly roundabout way to explain why, after hearing Gencer's Beatrice, I feel I may have been overly harsh in my criticism of the opera the last time I had occasion to review it in these pages (Fanfare VI:6). Had that recording (and, for that matter, any of the other performances of the work to which I'd been exposed, both “live” and recorded) been sung with the dramatic eloquence Gencer brings to it here, I would surely have been more favorably disposed toward it. In my defense, I did imply that the problem with both Beatrices then under discussion was a too placid and passive interpreter (Sutherland), and I expressed interest in the Beatrice the more theatrically compelling Kabaiwanska, who sings Agnese in one of them, would have provided. Bolena, on the other hand, I have always considered Donizetti's finest tragic opera.
The two are #6 and #8 respectively in Melodram's third series of “interpretazioni liriche indimenticabili,” and both are here expertly sung and acted by Gencer, who for too many years was unfairly dismissed as a “Callas manqué,” but who deserves to be recognized in her own right as a singing actress on the grand scale, and whose name, fortunately, recurs with ever-increasing frequency in these pages. Her voice can, at times, be as hard as Callas', but it is more secure in alt, and though her runs and scales are not as impeccable as Sutherland's, she is capable of exquisite high pianissimi and commands sufficient flexibility to encompass most of the roles' more florid passages. Finally (and again, perhaps most important as respects the works under discussion), she is a most involved participant in the drama: one who delivers the texts intelligently and tellingly.
Would she had better support in these performances! Neither husband possesses the beauty of tone or flexibility his music requires, but Cava's rough-voiced Henry is, at least, more fearsome than the Visconti of Zanasi, whose light-textured baritone projects a less than formidable adversary to a Beatrice of Gencer's mettle. The same tenor, Oncina, is, coincidentally, the “lover” in both, and, though certainly more than adequate, I admired him more in the lighter tenore di grazia parts he had by this time more or less abandoned. Though his prior experience in such roles stands him in good stead in the second-act Beatrice concertato, one can only guess how (or if!) he might have survived “Vivi tu” in Anna Bolena had Gavazzeni chosen not to cut it, for, from all reports, Rubini, who created the role of Percy, pulled out all vocal stops when he sang it. (This is, I suppose, as good a place as any to deplore the numerous, slashing cuts both conductors inflict on these works. As the operas' prime champions, one would think they might have had greater faith in their integrity as musico-dramatic entities.) Both of the “other women” roles are soprano parts, though Seymour is frequently taken by a mezzo. (Agnese, in fact, doubles Beatrice's vocal line up to a B in the second-act quintette, “Al tuo fallo.”) As Agnese, Sgourda tends to wobble until she warms up, while Johnson would be more acceptable a Seymour did, she not have to vie with memories of Simionato.
As “true believers,” not only in the works they are conducting but in the theatrical viability of the genre to which they belong, both Gavazzeni and Gui are fully aware of the need to balance dramatic intensity with a free-flowing melodic line. I was, however, surprised that the latter seemed to play down the power and vigor of the Beatrice “Quintette” (which Verdi surely had in mind when he composed the Macbeth concertato following Duncan's murder) the very power and vigor he brings to so many pages of his recording of Norma, Beatrice's immediate predecessor.
Surfaces are so-so; sound decent enough given its age. No notes in either set; Italian text only in both. Both include sections not sung and omit sections that are! Most curious in this regard is the Beatrice libretto, which at one point and in a glaringly different type-face reproduces the text of a duet for Agnese and Beatrice which Bellini had sketched out, which Gui has scored . . . but which is not included in the recording. Nor is, for the record, the cabaletta with which Sutherland concludes that opera in the London “complete.”
The Bolena to get is the live 1957 La Scala performance with Callas, Simionato, and Rossi-Lemeni conducted by Gavazzeni, a performance that literally sparked the current bel canto revival. I reviewed the Foyer recording (FO 1014, three discs, mono) in Fanfare VII:3, but it is to be found in virtually every pirate's catalog. Beware, however; the Foyer set I received for review contained two copies of Sides 5 and 6, though one was labeled 3 and 4! I can't be as definite as respects my Beatrice of choice. Much as I admire “La Stupenda,” her lack of fervor in either of the only other two recordings of this piece I've heard is a real liability, but on London, at least, she enjoys the support of Cornelius Opthof (Visconti) and Luciano Pavarotti (Orombello), and the sound is a lot better than on any competing version.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
BELLINI Beatrice di Tenda. • Vittorio Gui, conductor;
Leyla Gencer, soprano (Beatrice); Mario Zanasi, baritone (Filippo); Juan
Oncina, tenor (Orombello); Antigone Sgourda, mezzo-soprano (Agnese); Coro e
Orchestra del Teatro La Fenice di Venezia. • NUOVA ERA
23333/34 [ADD]; two discs, 70:39, 78:39. (Distributed by Qualiton.) RECORDED in
1964.
I was very excited to receive this set from the head office in New Jersey. Although Beatrice is hardly my favorite Bellini opera (is it anyone's?) and it is far from a masterpiece, the catalog could use a really fine performance of it just to put it in perspective. The old Sutherland-Pavarotti-Veasey-Bonynge on London has not been reissued (as yet) on CD and last year's Rizzoli set with Mariana Nicolescu was a disappointment on most fronts. So, imagine my joy when I saw that Leyla Gencer had struck again.
And in fact, the interesting Turk is here in fine fettle, singing with her
usual individuality and intelligence, and in good voice to boot. She makes us
feel for Beatrice's plight (it's the same plight as Anna Bolena's, but it's not
as well told or as through-composed) and gets around the difficult music with
great panache and expressivity. She's a winner. She inexplicably sings the
first cavatina and cabaletta up a whole tone (it's not the pitch of the tape);
perhaps this is an alternative about which I haven't heard. Juan Oncina's
Orombello is sincere but his tone is downright whiney at times; it also doesn't
help that Pavarotti's voice still rings in my ears in this music. The role's
not large or important enough to make or break a performance.
The Agnese of Antigone Sgourda is provincial in an energetic sort of way and the oddly placed music sits well for her. She also makes sense of the character. Neither she nor Oncina ever takes any higher options or embellishes the vocal line. Mario Zanasi, with the largest role (Filippo—the Henry VIII character), is properly nasty and impressive, although the voice weakens at the bottom and some of his crueller moments are thus lost.
WARNING: This performance is the edition used by the excellent conductor Vittorio Gui. There are many small, annoying cuts and a bit of re-orchestrating, but they aren't as appalling as what he does to the opera's final pages. He totally eliminates Beatrice's cabaletta and has the chorus sadly, quietly, intoning the beautiful melody of the “Angiol di pace” trio instead. I miss the cabaletta and if you know the opera, so will you—in fact, even if you don't know the opera, you'll miss the cabaletta. This way, the work just sorts of ends. Perhaps on stage the tragedy was underlined this way, but I felt gypped. Otherwise the Maestro's leadership is right-on.
Orchestra and chorus are fine and the sound is good, doctored digital re-mastering. Plenty of cueing points, booklet with slight essay and Italian libretto. Over to you: good for what it is, but no cigar. Let's keep waiting for a real Beatrice.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Beatrice di Tenda by
Vincenzo Bellini are surveyed in the following publications:
CELLETTI
p.44; PENGUIN p.9; GIUDICI p.28 (2) p.72
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Opera Now - April 1995 p.51
Fanfare - March/April 1986 Vol.9 No.4 pp.127-128 [ADC]
Opera Quarterly - Vol.17 No.3 Summer 2001 pp.555-576 [DM]
American Record Guide - January/February 1990 Vol.53 No.1 p.28 [GWL]
LA STAMPA
Leyla Gencer is the subject of one of the few states of the art singer biographies in Italian (by Franca Cella). Usually these Italian books are hagiographies (witness the horribly bad Azali series) where all former colleagues tell how wonderful the singer was, is and will be. Rarely do we get a glimpse of opera politics in these morose texts. Cella delved deeper and didn’t forget to consult the diva’s correspondence. The recording under review gets a prominent place as conductor Gui wrote many letters to Gencer concerning transpositions (she refuses) and the rewriting of the finale according to Bellini’s last ideas (she accepts). Gui, a renowned Rossinian, does more than that. He brings a sense of urgency, of drama that succeeds in vitalizing the somewhat lethargic long melodies of Bellini so that the opera has more in common with young Verdi than is custom with the Catanian composer (in the accompanying booklet Bellini is called a Catalonian; Barcelona will be surprised). In his endeavours Gui is magnificently supported by Gencer. Ofcourse one has to love her somewhat pale timbre and her idiosyncratic way of singing; often switching to one of her fine pianissimi by a less than fine glottal coups. She clearly relishes the conductor’s dramatic tempi and is willing to sacrifice fine sounds for dramatic effects. In short, she often makes it a different opera than Joan Sutherland does in the famous Decca recording and still Gencer’s approach sounds as valid.
Mario Zanasi uses the same method but contrary to Gencer, Zanasi never was a very stylish baritone. He offers power and rage and succeeds but this is more Amonasro and Scarpia than count Filippo. Juan Oncina on the other hand has all the necessary refinement in his lovely voice, that is until the moment arrives style alone will not do and things become a matter of voice and voice alone. Then one notes his frayed top, his lack of squillo and one realizes he was more of a lieder singer. Antigone Sgourda as Agnese sounds a bit overtaxed in the role of Agnese and her voice is too close to Gencer’s to offer the necessary contrast between the two ladies. The sound is exellent and the recording is a worthy alternative for the official Decca one. The Sony recording too with Nicolesco (very much underrated), Cappuccilli, La Scola, Toczyska, Zedda may not be forgotten as the Rumanian soprano offers some of Sutherland’s beauty of sound together with Gencer’s sense of drama.
Belisario [Live]
14.05.1969 BELISARIO
Orchestra e Coro del Grande Teatro La Fenice
Opera d’Oro – 2 CDs
I wrote at some length about Belisario in Fanfare 13:1, and I refer readers
to that review for background information. That performance was from Venice in
May 1969—the opera's first revival this century—and it was such a hit that
Bergamo, Donizetti's birthplace, borrowed the production (and most of the cast)
and presented it for three performances in October 1970. It was again a
smashing success. This is a tape of one of those performances.
The cast differences are in the title role and conductor—in Venice, Giuseppe Taddei and Gianandrea Gavazzeni; here the then-just-emerging Renato Bruson and Adolfo Camozzo, respectively. Belisario is a fine work—close to major Donizetti—and it's good to have this set available.
Leyla Gencer is at her best. I wrote in 13:1 about the role of Antonina,
that it “requires great exclamatory powers, a right-on rhythmic sense, agility,
a ferocious middle and bottom voice, melting pianissimi, and (optional, I
presume) high notes—Gencer has them all. Yes, the register breaks are in
evidence and the raw, nasty low notes may annoy some, but this is a great
portrayal. ...” She is just as exciting here as she was in '69 and just as
solid, if not more so. She's even more potent in the thrilling act I finale
than she had been in Venice, and she sings with more subtlety at times than she
previously had. And she closes the opera with a high D which is so loud that,
I'm sure, it could have been heard in Milan.
Renato Bruson, an always sensitive singer, is ideal as the wronged Belisario. Taddei may have sounded more vulnerable (he was much older) and sung with more power, but Bruson is elegant and the sound itself is handsome and velvety. Umberto Grilli is still serviceable, and Mima Pecile is sweet as Belisario's loving daughter. Zaccaria does not impress. The approach of Camozzo is much like Gavazzeni's—keep it moving and exciting. The chorus and orchestra here are better than in Venice; the sound on both is good bootleg quality, with a slight edge going to this set.
The two bonus final scenes are just that, and frankly, the finale doesn't really withstand hearing three times in a row. The booklet contains some production photos, a good essay in broken English, and an Italian-only libretto. There are enough cueing points. This is an important release for the Donizettian, but in all fairness, owning either this one or the Venice '69 performance strikes me as enough. They are, as I've suggested, equally good. Buyer's choice.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
Myto lives up to its name in resuscitating a treasurable recording of Rossini's Cenerentola that allows us to revel in the special qualities of Sara (aka Zara) Dolukhanova. In the two sources I consulted, the recording variously dates from 1951 or 1953, information lacking in the summary notes provided with the set. For its age, the sound is not bad: Presumably Myto had access to either original tapes or pristine masters. if it is for Dolukhanova that one is first drawn to these discs, listeners will not be disappointed. The smoothness of her singing can still be a model today, imparting character at the same time as we marvel at her way with the coloratura. Conductor Onissim Bron has the measure of the piece, but his treatment of the text has its moments of shock. While the (then) customary cuts—and others as well—are made, Cenerentola gets an extra solo before the act I finale, a cabaletta to Malcolm's aria interpolated from Donna del Lago, but that is nothing compared to the shock in store when we get to the heroine's rondo-finale, which is parcelled out between her and the tenor, negating Rossinian logic. The notes give us biographical information about soprano, tenor, and conductor, evidently forgetting that Belov had his moment as Onegin for Vishnevskaya's first recorded Tatiana. Unfortunately, Rossini's demands are not the same as Tchaikovsky's, and we hear a lot of sliding around the notes instead of cleanly articulated runs. Orfenov also has his problems dealing with Rossinian intricacies, but is a far cry from the namby-pamby hero too long perpetuated as the ideal in the West. Once over the initial shock of Clorinda's first words emerging as "Nyet, nyet, nyet, nyet" instead of "No, no, no, no," it is easy to overlook this drawback in the face of characterful singing, particularly when it is the mezzo.
Mondo Musica has been given access to the Fenice archives so that the reconstruction fund will be the beneficiary. Why, however, have they found it necessary to duplicate so much material that has already been through countless reincarnations throughout the LP and CD eras? Yes, Belisario is a product of Donizetti's maturity and worthy of study as a Verdian precursor in its treatment of father-daughter relations, but its otherwise clunky libretto shows that Cammarano, despite Lucia, still had not entirely found his way. The set is recommended only to collectors who do not already possess a copy of the performance of May 14, 1969, especially as the sound offers virtually no improvement over previous editions: Onstage movements, stagehands' conversations, and an odd occasional crackle are still present. In other respects, the performance retains its privileged status, as it is unlikely that you will hear a more representative performance from Leyla Gencer as Antonina. All the familiar elements are there, including the heavenly fil di voce, so that we are reminded of how few singers today are capable of investing themselves so totally in a performance, Nelly Miricioiu being one of the very few carrying on this tradition. Giuseppe Taddei's noble baritone in the title role is the other major attribute, leaving Mirna Pecile's tremulous, lighter mezzo Irene and Umberto Grilli's tenorino Alamiro as honourable colleagues. Once again, it is Gianandrea Gavazzeni who leads us through the work, even though he has performed various bits of surgery, though not the evisceration to which he subjected Anna Bolena; but then Belisario is considerably more concise.
Even odder is the Donizetti-Pizzetti pairing. It is difficult to be much kinder to this performance than I was to that by Alexander Rahbari on the Discover label that I reviewed in the July 1998 issue of Fanfare. Gavazzeni leads an inflamed performance that might offer more pleasure if the sound were less murky, as if it were recorded from behind the fire curtain. And despite the conductor's lifelong advocacy and defense of Donizetti, I would be curious to know the authorization for turning the tenor's solo in the Ingemisco over to the soprano, however wonderfully Gencer sings it, or allowing her some beautifully floated high notes in the "Libera Me." The other soloists are credible, but it is clear that Gencer is the star. Why, however, we are asked to purchase a double album with only 87 minutes of music to hear the Donizetti Requiem (66 minutes) and Ildebrando Pizzetti's "Introduction to Aeschylus's Agamemnon" (21 minutes) is something that defies logic. The Pizzetti starts out with brass fanfares and an impressive slow introduction, but then rapidly deteriorates into Hollywood epic background music, replete with a wordless chorus that moans and groans as well.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
This is the
same performance which is available on Melodram MEL 27051 and which I reviewed
in Fanfare 13:1 (but without the bonus arias the Melodram release offered). I
discussed the opera at some length then and refer readers to that review for
background. In any case, I liked the performance and I still do. Here's what I
felt at the time: The opera has a fine lead baritone role, full of noble,
moving music. Giuseppe Taddei is in strong form as Belisario, the
commander-in-chief of the army of Giustiniano, the emperor of the orient. His
duet with the prisoner, Alamiro, the tenor, is rousing; the long duet with
Irene, his daughter, in the second act, is very touching. When he sings, softly
he occasionally flats, but this is a minor quibble—it's an excellent portrayal.
Tenor Umberto Grilli, normally no prize package, seems to be inspired by the
role of Alamiro, and he sings handsomely and with great involvement. Soprano
Mirna Pecile, a singer who otherwise has faded into oblivion, is given the role
of Irene (Belisario's and Antonina's daughter). She is sympathetic and sincere,
but her tone is nothing to write home about. Nicola Zaccaria is a wise Giustiniano,
and the smaller parts are hard to notice.
The role of Antonina requires great exclamatory powers, a right-on rhythmic sense, agility, and ferocious middle and bottom voice, melting pianissimi, and (optional, I presume) high notes—Gencer has them all. Yes, the register breaks are in evidence and the raw, nasty low notes may annoy some, but this is a great portrayal of an outraged, loving wife. Her part in the first-act finale is thrillingly sung, and she tops the act off with a high C which can tear the roof off. Fans of the strange Turk will not want to be without this. Gianandrea Gavazzeni leads the Venice forces with great energy, and if the chorus is a bit ragged at times, well, so what? The spirit of the work is well served.
Yes, still recommended—in one form or the other. The sound on this new release is marginally less tubby, but the Melodram does include the extended scenes from Devereux, so it's up to you.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
Belisario was the Donizetti work which immediately followed Lucia; it was premiered in Venice in February 1836 and it was a fabulous success. Within a year and a half, it was staged all over Italy, in England, Philadelphia, Berlin, Paris, New York, and Vienna. It contains some splendid music—all of Antonina's (it was composed for the Austrian contralto Caroline Ungher, whom Rossini described as having "The ardor of the south, the energy of the north, brazen lungs, a silver voice, and golden talent"), a terrific, martial tenor-baritone duet in the first act, a hair-raising first finale, an energetic tenor aria and a lovely soprano-baritone duet in the second act, and, of course, the soprano's final scene. This performance, from twenty-five years ago in Naples, is worthy of serious attention.
The opera has a fine lead baritone role, full of noble, moving music. Giuseppe Taddei is in strong form here as Belisario, the commander-in-chief of the army of Giustiniano, the emperor of the orient. Oddly, Donizetti only allows us to know him in duets and ensembles—he has no real solo. As a hero, we hear others praise and honor him. Taddei was always a fine team player, and he is here as well. His duet with the prisoner, Alamiro, the tenor, who turns out to be his son (I only know the bare outline of the plot from fighting my way through the Italian-only libretto Melodram has so kindly provided), is rousing; the long duet with Irene, his daughter, in the second act, is very touching. When he sings softly he occasionally fiats, but this is a minor quibble—it's an excellent portrayal.
Tenor Umberto Grilli, normally no prize package, seems to be inspired by the role of Alamiro, and he sings handsomely and with great involvement. Soprano Mirna Pecile, a singer who otherwise has faded into oblivion, is given the role of Irene (Belisario's and Antonina's daughter). She is sympathetic and sincere, but her tone is nothing to write home about. (The odd construction of this opera, with seemingly two prime donne, allows Irene to have the whole second act to herself, but gives Antonina the work's aria-finale.) Nicola Zaccaria is a wise Giustiniano, and the smaller parts are hard to notice.
In the Ungher role we find Turkish soprano Leyla Gencer at her best. I doubt whether Rossini would ever describe her the way he did Ungher, but she's remarkable in her own way. The role requires great exclamatory powers, a right-on-rhythmic sense, agility, a ferocious middle and bottom voice, melting pianissimi, and (optional, I presume) high notes—Gencer has them all. Yes, the register breaks are in evidence and the raw, nasty low notes may annoy some, but this is a great portrayal of an outraged, loving wife (Belisario, hero or not, is betrayed and dies at the opera's close and Antonina's scena is full of fury). Her part in the first-act finale is thrillingly sung—it's obvious that Ungher's strength lay in what is the middle and bottom of Gencer's voice—although she tops the act off with a high D which can tear the roof off. (Ungher was the contralto soloist at the premiere of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and she found it a bit high.) Fans of the strange Turk will not want to be without this. Gianandrea Gavazzeni leads the Venice forces with great energy, and if the chorus is a bit ragged at times, well, so what? The spirit of the work is well served.
The second CD is filled out with Gencer singing Elisabetta's first-act aria
and final scene from Devereux. It is the same performance I reviewed in Fanfare
12:2 on Hunt CD 545, and I still find it an epic portrayal, full of rage and
excitement.
The sound throughout is surprisingly full, prompter and all, there are plenty of cueing points, no notes, and, as mentioned above, an Italian-only libretto. But don't be deterred—this is an interesting work handled by people who love and respect it, and I recommend it.
OPERADIS
Recordings of
Belisario by Gaetano Donizetti are surveyed in the following publications:
Opéra International avril 1997 No.212 p.24
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Fanfare - Vol.22 No.4 March/April 1999 p.318 [JK]
Orpheus - Juli 2001 S.74 [SL]
Opera Quarterly - Vol.14 No.3 Spring 1998 p.159 [ETG]
American Record Guide - January/February 1990 Vol.53 No.1 p.43 [DA]:
July/August 2000 Vol.63 No.4 p.113 (highlights) [CHP]
L'opera (Milano) - Anno XIII - N.125 gennaio 1999 p.88 [GL]
Ópera Actual (Barcelona) - No.31 enero-febrero 1999 p.79 [LB]
CD COMPACT (Barcelona) - No.117 enero 1999 p.52 [AV]
7.10.1970 BELISARIO
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Donizetti di Bergamo
Adolfo Camozzo
Leyla Gencer (Antonina); Renato Bruson (Belisario); Mirna Pecile (Irene);
Nicola Zaccaria (Giustiniano); Umberto Grilli (Alamiro); Lina Rossi (Eudora);
Bruno Sebastian (Eutropio); Virgilio Carbonari (Eusebio)
Bonus Tracks
14.05.1969 BELISARIO
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro La Fenice di Venezia
Gianandrea Gavazzeni
Sin la tomba e a me negata!.. / Da quel di che l’innocente / Egli e spento
17.05.1969 BELISARIO
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro La Fenice di Venezia
Gianandrea Gavazzeni
Sin la tomba e a me negata!.. / Da quel di che l’innocente / Egli e spento
Arkadia – 2 CDs
25.01.1973 BELISARIO
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro San Carlo di Napoli
Carlo Franci
Leyla Gencer (Antonina); Giuseppe Taddei (Belisario);
Silvano Pagliuca (Giustiniano); Ottavio Garaventa (Alamiro); Bianca Maria
Casoni (Irene); Anna Maria Borelli (Eudora); Luigi Paolillo (Eutropio)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
I wrote at some length about Belisario in Fanfare 13:1, and I refer readers to that review for background information. That performance was from Venice in May 1969—the opera's first revival this century—and it was such a hit that Bergamo, Donizetti's birthplace, borrowed the production (and most of the cast) and presented it for three performances in October 1970. It was again a smashing success. This is a tape of one of those performances. The cast differences are in the title role and conductor—in Venice, Giuseppe Taddei and Gianandrea Gavazzeni; here the then-just-emerging Renato Bruson and Adolfo Camozzo, respectively. Belisario is a fine work—close to major Donizetti—and it's good to have this set available.
Leyla Gencer is at her best. I wrote in 13:1 about the role of Antonina, that it “requires great exclamatory powers, a right-on rhythmic sense, agility, a ferocious middle and bottom voice, melting pianissimi, and (optional, I presume) high notes—Gencer has them all. Yes, the register breaks are in evidence and the raw, nasty low notes may annoy some, but this is a great portrayal. ...” She is just as exciting here as she was in '69 and just as solid, if not more so. She's even more potent in the thrilling act I finale than she had been in Venice, and she sings with more subtlety at times than she previously had. And she closes the opera with a high D which is so loud that, I'm sure, it could have been heard in Milan.
Renato Bruson, an always sensitive singer, is ideal as the wronged Belisario. Taddei may have sounded more vulnerable (he was much older) and sung with more power, but Bruson is elegant and the sound itself is handsome and velvety. Umberto Grilli is still serviceable, and Mima Pecile is sweet as Belisario's loving daughter. Zaccaria does not impress. The approach of Camozzo is much like Gavazzeni's—keep it moving and exciting. The chorus and orchestra here are better than in Venice; the sound on both is good bootleg quality, with a slight edge going to this set.
The two bonus final scenes are just that, and frankly, the finale doesn't really withstand hearing three times in a row. The booklet contains some production photos, a good essay in broken English, and an Italian-only libretto. There are enough cueing points. This is an important release for the Donizettian, but in all fairness, owning either this one or the Venice '69 performance strikes me as enough. They are, as I've suggested, equally good. Buyer's choice.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
I wrote at some length about Belisario in Fanfare 13:1, and I refer readers to that review for background information. That performance was from Venice in May 1969—the opera's first revival this century—and it was such a hit that Bergamo, Donizetti's birthplace, borrowed the production (and most of the cast) and presented it for three performances in October 1970. It was again a smashing success. This is a tape of one of those performances. The cast differences are in the title role and conductor—in Venice, Giuseppe Taddei and Gianandrea Gavazzeni; here the then-just-emerging Renato Bruson and Adolfo Camozzo, respectively. Belisario is a fine work—close to major Donizetti—and it's good to have this set available.
Leyla Gencer is at her best. I wrote in 13:1 about the role of Antonina, that it “requires great exclamatory powers, a right-on rhythmic sense, agility, a ferocious middle and bottom voice, melting pianissimi, and (optional, I presume) high notes—Gencer has them all. Yes, the register breaks are in evidence and the raw, nasty low notes may annoy some, but this is a great portrayal. ...” She is just as exciting here as she was in '69 and just as solid, if not more so. She's even more potent in the thrilling act I finale than she had been in Venice, and she sings with more subtlety at times than she previously had. And she closes the opera with a high D which is so loud that, I'm sure, it could have been heard in Milan.
Renato Bruson, an always sensitive singer, is ideal as the wronged Belisario. Taddei may have sounded more vulnerable (he was much older) and sung with more power, but Bruson is elegant and the sound itself is handsome and velvety. Umberto Grilli is still serviceable, and Mima Pecile is sweet as Belisario's loving daughter. Zaccaria does not impress. The approach of Camozzo is much like Gavazzeni's—keep it moving and exciting. The chorus and orchestra here are better than in Venice; the sound on both is good bootleg quality, with a slight edge going to this set.
The two bonus final scenes are just that, and frankly, the finale doesn't really withstand hearing three times in a row. The booklet contains some production photos, a good essay in broken English, and an Italian-only libretto. There are enough cueing points. This is an important release for the Donizettian, but in all fairness, owning either this one or the Venice '69 performance strikes me as enough. They are, as I've suggested, equally good. Buyer's choice.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
Belisario was the Donizetti work which immediately followed Lucia; it was premiered in Venice in February 1836 and it was a fabulous success. Within a year and a half, it was staged all over Italy, in England, Philadelphia, Berlin, Paris, New York, and Vienna. It contains some splendid music—all of Antonina's (it was composed for the Austrian contralto Caroline Ungher, whom Rossini described as having "The ardour of the south, the energy of the north, brazen lungs, a silver voice, and golden talent"), a terrific, martial tenor-baritone duet in the first act, a hair-raising first finale, an energetic tenor aria and a lovely soprano-baritone duet in the second act, and, of course, the soprano's final scene. This performance, from twenty-five years ago in Naples, is worthy of serious attention.
The opera has a fine lead baritone role, full of noble, moving music. Giuseppe Taddei is in strong form here as Belisario, the commander-in-chief of the army of Giustiniano, the emperor of the orient. Oddly, Donizetti only allows us to know him in duets and ensembles—he has no real solo. As a hero, we hear others praise and honour him. Taddei was always a fine team player, and he is here as well. His duet with the prisoner, Alamiro, the tenor, who turns out to be his son (I only know the bare outline of the plot from fighting my way through the Italian-only libretto Melodram has so kindly provided), is rousing; the long duet with Irene, his daughter, in the second act, is very touching. When he sings softly, he occasionally fiats, but this is a minor quibble—it's an excellent portrayal.
Tenor Umberto Grilli, normally no prize package, seems to be inspired by the role of Alamiro, and he sings handsomely and with great involvement. Soprano Mirna Pecile, a singer who otherwise has faded into oblivion, is given the role of Irene (Belisario's and Antonina's daughter). She is sympathetic and sincere, but her tone is nothing to write home about. (The odd construction of this opera, with seemingly two prime donne, allows Irene to have the whole second act to herself, but gives Antonina the work's aria-finale.) Nicola Zaccaria is a wise Giustiniano, and the smaller parts are hard to notice.
In the Ungher role we find Turkish soprano Leyla Gencer at her best. I doubt whether Rossini would ever describe her the way he did Ungher, but she's remarkable in her own way. The role requires great exclamatory powers, a right-on-rhythmic sense, agility, a ferocious middle and bottom voice, melting pianissimi, and (optional, I presume) high notes—Gencer has them all. Yes, the register breaks are in evidence and the raw, nasty low notes may annoy some, but this is a great portrayal of an outraged, loving wife (Belisario, hero or not, is betrayed and dies at the opera's close and Antonina's scena is full of fury). Her part in the first-act finale is thrillingly sung—it's obvious that Ungher's strength lay in what is the middle and bottom of Gencer's voice—although she tops the act off with a high D which can tear the roof off. (Ungher was the contralto soloist at the premiere of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and she found it a bit high.) Fans of the strange Turk will not want to be without this. Gianandrea Gavazzeni leads the Venice forces with great energy, and if the chorus is a bit ragged at times, well, so what? The spirit of the work is well served.
The second CD is filled out with Gencer singing Elisabetta's first-act aria
and final scene from Devereux. It is the same performance I reviewed in Fanfare
12:2 on Hunt CD 545, and I still find it an epic portrayal, full of rage and
excitement.
The sound throughout is surprisingly full, prompter and all, there are plenty of cueing points, no notes, and, as mentioned above, an Italian-only libretto. But don't be deterred—this is an interesting work handled by people who love and respect it, and I recommend it.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Belisario by Gaetano
Donizetti are surveyed in the following publications:
Opéra
International avril 1997 No.212 p.24
This recording is reviewed in the following publication:
Opéra International - avril 1997 No.212 p.24, p.52
L’OPERA IN CD E VIDEO
Carlo Felice Cilario
Leyla Gencer (Caterina Cornaro); Luigi Risani (Andrea Cornaro); Jaume Aragall (Gerardo); Renato Bruson (Lusignano); Plinio Clabassi (Mocenigo); Fernando Iacopucci (Strozzi); Eva Ruta (Matilde); Claudio Terni (un cavaliere) Giocomo Maggiore, maestro del coro
Memories – 2 CDs
This is a reissue, Myto having previously released this performance on CD. Caterina Cornaro is one of the more obscure Donizetti operas; however, there have been several recordings. This performance was released on LP by MRF; it featured a booklet with commentary, plot summary, and libretto in Italian and English. Shortly afterwards, MRF released another recording featuring Montserrat Caballé and José Carreras. On a Phoenix CD another performance featuring Caballé and Giacomo Aragall was released. Recently, Bongiovanni released yet another recording featuring Margherita Rinaldi and Ottavio Garaventa that was reviewed by David L. Kirk in Fanfare 30:4, which I have not heard.
Caterina Cornaro was a historical figure born in Venice in 1454; at the age of 14, she was contracted to marry James de Lusigan, who was the king of Cyprus. They were married four years later in 1472. James died within the year of the marriage from an illness, not in battle, as portrayed in the opera. The story of Caterina Cornaro inspired several operas, Lachner’s Catharina Cornaro, Halévy’s La reine de Chypre, Balfe’s The Daughter of St. Marks, which was issued on LP by Rare Recorded Editions, and Pacini’s La regina di Cipro.
Donizetti’s version begins with a two-scene prologue. Scene 1 takes place in the ballroom of the Cornaro Palace in Venice. It is the wedding day of Caterina and a young French nobleman, Gerardo. A stranger approaches Caterina’s father, Andrea and orders him to cancel the wedding. The stranger reveals himself as Mocenigo, a member of the ruling Counsel of Ten, and the Counsel has demanded that Caterina marry Lusignano, the King of Cyprus. Andrea is forced to cancel the proposed wedding. The second scene takes place in Caterina’s apartment. Her maid arrives with a message from Gerardo that he is coming to free her from the orders of the Counsel. Andrea warns her that if she does not agree to marry Lusignano, Gerardo will be executed. When Gerardo arrives, Caterina, in despair, declares that she no longer loves him, and Gerardo curses her.
In the first act, Mocenigo, in a square in Nicosia, dreams of the day when the whole island of Cyprus will fall under the domination of Venice. He is informed that Gerardo is in the city. Lusignano enters and expresses his sorrow for Caterina, who has been a victim of political intrigue. Mocengio’s henchman, Strozzi, and his band of assassins have orders to find Gerardo and kill him. Their attempt fails due to the assistance of Lusignano, who explains to Gerardo that Caterina had to obey the orders of the Counsel of Ten. The two men make a vow of friendship.
In the second scene Caterina’s attendants try to comfort her. Lusignano enters and tells her that a visitor requests an audience. The visitor is Gerardo; they both confess that they still love each other. Mocenigo enters and denounces Caterina as an adultress. Lusignano calls for the guards to arrest Mocenigo, who leaps to a balcony and waves a scarf signaling people to start a rebellion, but the soldiers arrive to take him prisoner. In the final act, set in the hall of the Royal Palace, Gerardo calls on soldiers to follow him into the battle in the streets between the Cypriots and Venetians. Caterina offers a prayer for victory. Her prayer is answered, but Lusignano is carried in, mortally wounded. In her final aria, Caterina asks the people to swear faith to her as Queen.
This performance of Caterina Cornaro was reviewed in Opera by Enrico Tellini. He said that it was one of the most important happenings of the year. He wrote: “The title role was sung by Leyla Gencer who was in glorious voice. Giacomo Aragall sang with enthusiasm and clear pronunciation, while Renato Bruson was so elegant in his phrasing that his singing appeared a lesson.” Tellini was less enthusiastic about Plinio Clabassi, but I admire him. However, I certainly agree with Tellini in regard to the other singers. Carlo Felice Cillario’s conducting is excellent.
Caterina Cornaro was premiered on January 18, 1844. It was not a success. The last 19th-century performance was at Parma on February 2, 1845. This performance was the first revival of the opera since that date. In Fanfare 10:5, Anthony D. Coggi [Fanfare] reviewed the recording issued on Rodolphe featuring Montserrat Caballé, Giacomo Aragall, and Ryan Edwards. (That performance was also issued on CD by Phoenix.) In his review he stated that this Gencer/Aragall/Bruson performance was superior, although at that time it was only on LP. While this is not one of Donizetti’s best operas, it does have striking moments, and is certainly well worth having. The audience is loud and enthusiastic; there is much applause and shouts of bravo.
Since Caterina Cornaro is a short opera, there are 14 bonus tracks from a live performance of Lucrezia Borgia given in October 1971. Both Gencer and Grilli are very good in their roles. On both the Caterina Cornaro complete opera, and the Lucrezia Borgia excerpts the sound is good. Unfortunately, there is no booklet, only a list of bands.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Caterina Cornaro by
Gaetano Donizetti are surveyed in the following publications:
CELLETTI
p.195; GIUDICI p.221; Opéra International avril 1997 No.212 p.25
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Opera News - May 1994 p.48
Orpheus - Juni 1993 S.61
Opéra International - No.184 octobre 1994 p.77
Diapason - janvier 1993 p.112
SYDNEY MORNING HERALD
15.04.1973 CATERINA CORNARO
USA Premier
New York, Carnegie Hall
Orchestra and Chorus of the New Jersey Opera
Alfredo Silipigni
Leyla Gencer (Caterina Cornaro); Samuel Ramey (Andrea Cornaro); Giuseppe
Campora (Gerardo); Giuseppe Taddei (Lusignano); James Morris (Mocenigo); John
Sandor (Strozzi); Maria di Giglio (Matilde)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
Recordings of Caterina Cornaro by
Gaetano Donizetti are surveyed in the following publications:
CELLETTI
p.195; GIUDICI p.221; Opéra International avril 1997 No.212 p.25
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Orpheus - Juni 1996 S.63
Opéra International - avril 1997 No.212 p.25, p.52
Ópera Actual (Barcelona) - marzo-mayo 1998 No.27 p.84 [JV]
Cavalleria
Rusticana [Live]
Recordings of Cavalleria rusticana
by Pietro Mascagni are surveyed in the following publications:
Recordings of Der Freischütz by Carl
Maria von Weber are surveyed in the following publications:
Don Carlos [Live]
Recordings of Don Carlos [Don Carlo]
by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed in the following publications:
Fernando Previtali
Bruno Prevedi (Don Carlos); Nicolai Ghiaurov (Filippo II); Sesto Bruscantini (Rodrigo, marchese di Posa); Leyla Gencer (Elisabetta de Valois); Fiorenza Cossotto (La principessa d'Eboli); Luigi Roni (Il Grande Inquisitore); Franco Pugliese (un frate); Virginia de Notaristefani (Tebaldo); Rita Misiano (La contessa d'Aremberg); Athos Cesarini (Il conte di Lerma); Fernando Jacopucci (un araldo reale); Giovanna di Rocco (una voce dal cielo)
Melodram – 3 CDs
The Don Carlo performance was given April 24, 1968 in Rome, and is of the Italian five-act version of the opera. Although my interest was first ignited by the presence of Turkish soprano Leyla Gencer (always an interesting, alive performer), it is the remarkable Rodrigo of Bruscantini that stays longest in the memory. He brings a nobility of phrase, a steadiness of tone, and a variety of intensity to his singing that can serve as a lesson to baritones more famous for Verdi singing than he was. His singing announces itself as important the minute he opens his mouth.
Gencer doesn't disappoint either, although at times the tone is a bit steely (whether due to her own problems or recording quality is hard to determine). She floats some of her trademark pianissimi, and sails into the role with utter abandon.
Unfortunately, Elisabetta and Rodrigo cannot carry this opera and the level drops once away from Bruscantini and Gencer. Ghiaurov was an important Philip in the 1960s, but seems to have phoned this performance in, and Roni lacks the vocal stature for his big scene. Any performance of Don Carlo ultimately stands or falls on two principals: the tenor and the conductor. In both of these areas, this performance is at its weakest.
Bruno Prevedi's tenor, unvarying in its sound, used at a single dynamic level (forte) almost throughout, and unpleasantly whiny in quality, wears out its welcome early on. Prevedi made a decent career in the 1960s and '70s because his voice carried well and had a certain impact due to its size and brilliance, and because he reliably never sank below an acceptable level. But listening to any of his recordings gives meaning to the damning phrase “useful tenor.” In the Don Carlo/Rodrigo scenes the difference in utterance of phrases between Bruscantini and Prevedi serves to magnify the latter's inadequacy.
Fernando Previtali's conducting, especially when combined with the dry Italian broadcast sound heard here and scraggly orchestral execution, is lacking in colour and dramatic or musical specificity. His musical gestures are satisfactory in a generalized way, but with the availability of performances led by Giulini, Solti, Karajan, and Abbado, the routine nature of his conducting is made even more apparent.
The arias used to fill out the third disc (thus giving us three generously packed CDs) are stunningly sung by Gencer; all are from complete performances that have circulated on “private label” LPs for years and would be better found in that form (particularly the Trovatore and Macbeth). No notes or libretto are included; there is a listing of each of the tracks used for access (a total of 21 in the opera—not particularly generous).
OPERADIS
Recordings of Don Carlos [Don Carlo]
by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed in the following publications:
L’OPERA IN CD E VIDEO
26.04.1960 DON GIOVANNI
Francesco Molinari-Pradelli
OPERA (GUIA UNIVERSAL DE LA OPERA DISCOGRAFIA
Mario
Petri, bar (Don Giovanni); Sesto
Bruscantini, bar (Leporello); Teresa
Stich-Randall, sop (Donna Anna); Leyla Gencer, sop (Donna
Elvira); Luigi Alva, ten (Don Ottavio); Heinz
Borst, bass (Commendatore); Graziella
Sciutti, sop (Zerlina); Renato Cesari, bar (Masetto); RAI
Milan Chorus & Symphony Orchestra; Francesco
Molinari-Pradelli, cond (live: Milan, April 26, 1960) also available
as a DVD on VAI 4314
This splendid Don Giovanni was apparently first issued on CDs by Opera d’Oro in 2003, followed as a DVD from VAI in 2005 (since it originates from Milan television). Datum apparently also issued it earlier, since I found an alternate cover online, but this particular incarnation came out two years ago with all of the live bonus tracks used to fill out the third CD (the performance runs just 23 minutes too long to fit onto two CDs). Somehow, I missed all of these other releases, however; the major classical magazine I wrote for was much too busy sending me recordings of Chopin (which generally turns me off) and Liszt (with whom I became well over-saturated…he wasn’t that great of a composer) to review.
Let’s get the negatives out of the way first. It’s mono broadcast sound, and occasionally, as in the overture, the orchestra can sound a trifle scrappy. Teresa Stich-Randall’s laser-focused, virtually non-vibrato voice is not to everyone’s taste (which I was stunned to discover, since I’ve always loved her, and she would surely be a major star in today’s HIP Mozart performances), and openly dramatic singing never was her forte, but I find her much more exciting here than on the Hans Rosbaud performance (more on that below). Leyla Gencer also tends to underplay Donna Elvira a bit; she’s not the firebrand here that one heard in her performances of Il Trovatore or La Vestale. But that’s about all you can say to criticize it. Considering its time and place, the conducting is surprisingly brisk; only “Il mio tesoro” is slowed down a bit, and that was probably because tenor Luigi Alva couldn’t sing his runs and divisions at the quicker tempo. In many ways, this recording surpasses Rosbaud’s famous recording with Stich-Randall as Anna, a performance that suffered from the simply awful singing of Antonio Campo as Don Giovanni and Marcello Cortis as Leporello. The reason why the Rosbaud performance is more famous is partly due to his high reputation, especially in Europe, as a great architectural conductor, and partly due to the much more glamorous names (and voices) of Suzanne Danco as Donna Elvira, Anna Moffo as Zerlina and Nicolai Gedda as Don Ottavio—but Danco wasn’t any more dramatic than Gencer, and Gedda also slowed down “Il mio tesoro” and had a terrible time with the runs.
Here, everyone is in good or great voice; Petri is not only a much better singer than Campo but a first-rate vocal actor; Bruscantini leans towards humor as Leporello but doesn’t ham it up; and more importantly is the way all the voices line up. What I mean by that is that every singer here has a “lean” timbre, tightly focused and projected like laser beams, which makes all the different lines in the fast-faced ensembles “sound” clearly and cleanly. You just don’t get that in recordings where the singers have rich, creamy voices, because rich, creamy voices have overtones that often overlap the other singers. Even in Riccardo Muti’s recording of the opera, which I consider to be a great one, you have such rich vocalists as Cheryl Studer (Donna Anna), Suzanne Mentzer (Zerlina) and Samuel Ramey (Leporello), and such voices, when singing together with others, create a blend and not a separation of sound in one’s ear. In many operas, particularly Italian and German operas of the mid-19th century, such a blend is not only welcome but preferred, but in Mozart it can sometimes obscure the fine filigree of the vocal writing. Listening to this performance is, to quote Arturo Toscanini, “like reading the score,” if you know what I mean, and that in itself makes this a truly valuable performance, especially for musicians and those of us who treasure clarity in Mozart’s vocal ensembles. Indeed, the singers’ perfect diction allows Molinari-Pradelli to take “Giovinette che fate all’amore” and “Ho capito, Signor, si!” at a very brisk pace, similar to what we hear nowadays from many HIP performances, except with much better string tone and better voices. The only cast member I’ve never heard of before is Heinz Borst as the Commendatore, and although he’s not the darkest or most dramatic singer I’ve heard in the role, he’s sinister enough in the final scene to get by.
It also helps that most of the cast, excepting Stich-Randall, Gencer and bass Heinz Borst as the Commendatore, are of Italian descent—and that includes Luigi Alva who, though born in Peru, had Italian parents and grew up speaking Italian. This also makes a difference, since Italian-speaking singers have much more perfect diction in that language and can make the words “tell” with greater force. I can’t even recall seeing another Don Giovanni with so many Italians in the cast, though I admit that I haven’t heard every single performance floating around.
The orchestra is just a mite heavier than we’re used to hearing it today, although by 1960 musicians had learned that you shouldn’t use a full symphony orchestra to play Mozart. With that being said, it’s the orchestra more so than the singers that suffers most from the mono TV sound, but it’s reproduced well enough here that it’s not a consistent problem.
One thing that surprised me was how firm Leyla Gencer’s voice sounds here. I’ve gotten so used to hearing her with that unusual flutter in the voice, not quite a wobble but still noticeable, that I didn’t realize that she could sing with a firmly solid tone. Although this was a televised broadcast, there was no audience present, thus you will listen in vain for bursts of applause after the arias and duets.
As for the conducting, Molinari-Pradelli actually takes much of the opera at quicker tempi than Rosbaud did, all to the music’s benefit. The only exception is “Il mio tesoro,” which Luigi Alva was used to taking at a somewhat relaxed tempo because he could just barely get through the runs at that speed without messing them up.
Probably the most surprising casting choice in this performance will be, for many listeners, that of comic baritone, Sesto Bruscantini, as Leporello. Although several baritones have sung this role, they have all been ones with richer voices, such as Giuseppe Taddei on the 1959 Giulini recording. Most of the time it is sung by basso cantates; earlier generations were used to Salvatore Baccaloni, audiences around the time of this performance were used to Fernando Corena, and in later years it was sung by Wladimiro Ganzarolli, Ferruccio Furlanetto and Samuel Ramey, all of whom had richer voices. Bruscantini manages the part pretty well, but the attentive listener will note that he just barely gets most of his low notes, and at least once during “Madamina” he sings an alternate higher note. But you surely can’t complain that you can’t distinguish between the voices of the Don and his servant—they surely sound entirely different, and he certainly sounds like a servant. Moreover, in those massed ensembles Bruscantini’s brightly-focused voice helps us hear the various lines of the music more clearly. (As an historical footnote, one should remember that, in the 18th century, baritones were considered to be a species of bass, since basso roles in operas didn’t often go down as low as those of Osmin or Sarastro, and baritones seldom went up to a high A, usually stopping at G or Ab.) There’s also a bit of luxury casting here with the excellent baritone Renato Cesari, who often sang leading roles, as Masetto. Petri, excellent throughout, sings the most seductive performances of “La cì darem la mano” and “Deh’ vieni alla finestra” I’ve ever heard.
The natural reverb of the empty theater also greatly helps the voices of Alva and Graziella Sciutti, which often sounded shrill and nasty on records. Here, you realize that Alva had a very nice-sounding tenor voice and Sciutti, though still penny-bright, was not as naggingly brittle as she sometimes sounded on discs, which goes to prove that records sometimes lie to you.
As for the bonus tracks, most of them are very good and all are extremely interesting. We start with Lizzie Schwarzkopf singing an aria from Idomeneo, and she’s in excellent voice, displaying a nice trill and without the annoying mannerisms that later crept into her singing (I don’t know the year of the performance; my download had no booklet). Nicola Rossi-Lemeni singing “Non più andrai” was a real surprise, but he does a very fine job with it, and Angelo Questa’s conducting is alert and lively. Lisa Della Casa sings a fine “Porgi amore,” but the conductor, one Franco Mannino, gives new meaning to the word “lugubrious.” Stich-Randall’s “Dove sono” is beautiful as expected, and Mario Rossi gives her a better tempo than Mannino did for Della Casa. Stich-Randall does sneak a couple of little catch breaths in, but gives the illusion of singing it in one continuous line. Absolutely stupendous. Tito Gobbi sounds like his usual self-singing “Aprite un po’ quegli occhi,” which is a little snarly but still rhythmically alert and enjoying himself. But nearly all of these tracks are interesting and revealing of the different artists involved, the only disappointment being the in-one-ear-and-out-the-other Alda Noni. The most unusual performances are Boris Christoff singing Leporello’s catalogue aria (much livelier than on his studio recording ofit) and Gencer singing “Martern aller arten” in Italian. Except for the fact that she only sang one trill (near the end), she did a good job with it.
Bottom line: except for the
sometimes-scrappy sound of the orchestra, which unfortunately can’t be fixed
(I’ve read online that the DVD has even poorer sound than this CD incarnation),
this is a Don Giovanni for the ages. It is now my historical
performance of preference, even over the Busch, Krips and Giulini recordings,
the latter of which I always felt was over-hyped. I highly recommend it.
Georg Solti
Cesare Siepi (Don Giovanni); Leyla Gencer (Donna
Anna); Sena Jurinac (Donna Elvira); Mirella Freni (Zerlina); Richard Lewis (Don
Ottavio); Geraint Evans (Leporello); Robert Savoie (Masetto); David Ward (Il
Commendatore)
Douglas Robinson, chorus master
Royal Opera House – 3 CDs
Solti and several of the singers in this performance made commercial recordings of Don Giovanni—sometimes more than one—so I suppose the main draw of this release is the opportunity to hear those who didn’t (Gencer in particular), or to hear otherwise unpreserved cast combinations. This performance is a curious mixture of ingredients—old stylistic practices and new, the local and the international, and so on. The mixture is inconsistently successful because the ingredients sometimes clash, but one good thing that can be said about this Don Giovanni is that it won’t put you to sleep. It’s an exciting if often shaggy performance, with the emphases on wit and beauty rather than on the score’s seriousness. This is not its first time on CD, although this might be its most affordable incarnation so far.
It’s best to discuss Solti first, because I think he sets the tone for this
performance more than any of his singers do. There’s no precious understatement
to his conducting; he lays his cards on the table right from the outset and
gives us a reading of considerable red-bloodedness. While not precisely hard
driving—the start of the act I finale is more Rossini than Mozart—he
nevertheless pushes the music along with few breathing points, and he allows
the standard cuts. Both of these factors make this a good Don Giovanni to hear
when you’re in a hurry, but not so good if you like real dramatic weight and
the occasional Mozartean still-point. Unanimity of ensemble singing is not a
strength of this performance either. One doesn’t expect perfection outside of the
recording studios, but by the same token, one doesn’t necessarily want to hear
the same imperfections over and over again on a CD.
Siepi was a fine Giovanni in Krips’s studio recording from the previous decade. Here, he is more of a bastard than before, although he maintains the suave veneer of a gentleman. The voice still is in excellent shape, and so Siepi’s Giovanni is a powerful sun around which the other singers’ planets can rotate. Evans contributes the standard comic Leporello, healthily sung, with the buffo elements bumped up a little for the entertainment of the locals. He’s funny but not very likeable, particularly in his bullying of Masetto. Lewis’s Ottavio is noble and sensitive, and not as effete as many. In fact, “Dalla sua pace” is memorably handsome, although even at Solti’s efficient tempo, “Il mio tesoro” starts to stretch him. As Masetto, the capable Savoie otherwise makes little impression one way or another, although Ward’s vengeful Commendatore is distinctive.
Turning to the women, interest centers on Gencer’s Anna, because she made so few studio recordings. Predictably, she’s no wilting violet, and her big sound helps her to create a character who is strong enough to stand up to Giovanni, to say nothing of Ottavio. Again, her first aria is more successful than her second, as her voice and temperament are better at projecting righteous indignation than conciliation. With such a forward Anna, it’s harder to create a contrast between Anna and Elvira, and Jurinac really isn’t successful doing so. One way to play this role is to make her into a crazy woman, a sort of Holy Roller, which I don’t include among Jurinac’s skills. “Mi tradì” is a passionate outpouring of hurt love, but elsewhere, Jurinac seems uncomfortable, as if she wanted to be in a more classically proportioned performance than the one in question. Freni’s sweet Zerlina provides plenty of contrast with Gencer and Jurinac, but the performance is only two-dimensional. Arguably, a Don Giovanni in which Zerlina and Masetto don’t matter very much is lamed in one of its limbs. To my mind, that is what happens here.
The sound is not particularly good, which suggests that it was taken not from a broadcast but from an in-house job. It’s muffled, peaky, and sometimes unsteady. In addition to pre-echo, there are extraneous noises typical of reused and imperfectly erased recording tape. None of these faults is fatal. If the performance were astonishing, I’d probably overlook them entirely. However, as the performance is merely interesting, they’re a little intrusive. There’s little applause between numbers; I can’t tell if it has been edited out, where possible, or if Solti’s precipitous conducting discouraged it.
As is typically the case with Opera d’Oro’s cheaper line, there’s no libretto, just a brief introduction and a plot synopsis. The low price might make this set attractive to first-time collectors, but that would be false economy: I can recommend this set only to those who know this opera well, and who are looking for something specific from this particular performance. As for the rest, almost any of the stereo studio recordings by Krips, Giulini, Karajan, Solti, and so on would be a safer bet.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
I reviewed this performance in the November/December 2006 issue after it was released on Opera d’Oro 1452. I refer readers to that review for detailed comments about the performance itself. There are good reasons to consider the present release, though, even if you’ve already acquired the Opera d’Oro discs. Primary among these is that the sound has been greatly improved. Opera d’Oro’s sound was muffled, sometimes unsteady in pitch, and occasionally disturbed by tape artifacts such as print-through. Roger Beardsley is responsible for the re-mastering on the present release, and he has nearly worked wonders. Although the sound is monaural, and one would not mistake it for a studio recording of the period, it is much easier to enjoy. I think most listeners will be able to listen through the sonic anomalies with no trouble. Contrary to what I had guessed in the earlier review, this is not an in-house recording, but one made “off-air” by an unidentified enthusiast. What a long life it has had!
Royal Opera House (the label, not the house itself!) has packaged this release lavishly, with a slipcase housing the jewel box, and a thick booklet containing both an essay about the performance and a complete Italian-English libretto. (Opera d’Oro’s booklet contains just a track listing and a plot summary.) Furthermore, Royal Opera House retains a post-opera address made to the audience by the company’s General Administrator Sir David Webster, in which tribute is paid to Bruno Walter who had died two days earlier. Webster’s remarks (rather pompous, I must admit), are followed by Solti conducting the orchestra in the March of the Priests from Die Zauberflöte. None of this appears on the Opera d’Oro discs. Perhaps it will help the reader to know that, having reviewed the present set, I am going to keep it and retire the Opera d’Oro discs. The price of the Royal Opera House set is midline; the Opera d’Oro is budget. Spend the extra money if you really want to hear this performance.
I suspect that Gencer is the curiosity that will draw most listeners in, since she made so few (any?) studio recordings. It is also interesting to hear performers who made studio recordings of this opera, but not with each other. As I said last time, this performance is a curious mixture of stylistic practices old and new, and although the ingredients sometimes clash, the performance is undeniably lively. There’s more humor and surface beauty than depth.
While not insensitive, Solti is red-blooded and driven, in his typical manner. Siepi is meaner and more reckless than he was on the Krips recording, and he is complemented by a frankly buffo Evans as Leporello—a man who can laugh at Donna Elvira’s discomfort at hearing the contents of Don Giovanni’s little black book. Richard Lewis sounds a little over-parted in “Il mio tesoro,” but otherwise, he is a noble Don Ottavio. Robert Savoie is a whimpering, blustering Masetto, and Ward is a distinctive Commendatore, once he reaches the afterlife.
Among the women, the ballsy Gencer is more successful than Jurinac, who sometimes sounds a little uncomfortable, and fails to create a defined character. I like Freni (and Masetto) better than I did before. (I found her two-dimensional, but now I appreciate both her sweetness and her cleverness—another benefit of the improved sound?)
Studio recordings by Krips, Giulini, Karajan, Solti, and so on remain a better first-choice for those who are making their first acquaintance with this opera, but those who are curious about any aspect of the present performance—or who (like me) simply can’t get enough of Don Giovanni—probably will find the Royal Opera House set very enjoyable.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
One formula for putting on a good Don Giovanni during the 60s: get Cesare Siepi and surround him with worthy colleagues. In London in February 1962, the formula worked as expected. Solti's leadership strikes me as a bit hard-driven and heavy-handed but it bristles with nervous energy most of the time and the singers can cope with his tempos: the various pitfalls are overcome . . . with distinction, in some cases. Two of them are the Anna and Elvira of, respectively, Gencer and Jurinac, performances of such musical and technical accomplishment that they stand out even in these surroundings. O.K., let's nitpick: in “Mi tradi,” Jurinac runs short of breath but still brings the aria off brilliantly. Nine years later, in another country under another conductor, her age is starting to catch up with her, but she's still a very respectable Elvira . . . better than most that you've heard. I might as well mention that Giulini induces Gundula Janowitz to give her all as Anna, but her all isn't quite enough in “Non mi dir.”
Back to the Solti performance: Geraint Evans gives Leporelló a nastier edge
than Siepi's frequent partner, Fernando Corena, and manages it convincingly.
The others in the cast sing as you'd expect them to (if you don't know what to
expect from Robert Savoie, he's a good Masetto). The frequency range seems
limited. Is this twenty copies removed from the original? Anyway, the sound is
much duller than it should be on a 1962 broadcast, which is what I assume this
to be.
As a bonus, GDS gives us Gencer as Elvira in ten minutes' worth of music from a 1960 RAI broadcast. She should be quite a good one, but her low notes seem weak to me. The CDs have all the cueing access you need with the “sidebreaks” occurring after the two tenor arias. Neither of Siepi's commercial Dom satisfies me and I'm not sure which one I like better, but I think he and Corena are in absolutely prime form on the later RCA Victor one. If that performance had Gencer and Jurinac instead of Birgit Nilsson and Leontyne Price, the choice would be a lot easier. This performance's pluses and minuses (very few) make it quite competitive, but the annoyingly dull sound is an ever-present anchor, dragging it down.
The sound is brighter and clearer, if not without a little distortion, on the 1970 Giulini broadcast. If you know the conductor's EMI recording of a decade earlier, you'll know what a compliment I'm paying him when I say that he's almost as good here as he was there, held back a bit by the RAI orchestra. In the title role, Nicolai Ghiaurov is a hearty sort of Don Giovanni with a big, healthy voice; I sometimes found myself picturing Henry VIII on a spree (Robert Shaw, not Charles Laughton). He sounds like he's having a grand time until the very end. No seduction here: he expects them to just collapse before him. No Don has sounded more sincere in “Vivan le femmine! Viva il buon vino! Sostegno e gloria d'umanità!” Sesto Bruscantini is the conventional, buffo sort of Leporelló and does it well enough, given an inclination to vocal mugging. The rest of the cast, given my reservations about Janowitz and Jurinac, is good enough.
As a generous and, possibly, not-to-be-appreciated bonus, we get seven excerpts from Mozart's incidental music to the play, Thamos, King of Egypt, rendered in Italian with a narrator setting each scene (but in Italian) for us. Leonardo Monreale has little to do here, but is in excellent voice. Giulini follows the procedure some other conductors have used, having soloists sing the parts of the Priests and Sun Maidens and using the chorus when both groups sing together. I wonder if he would conduct this music with as much vitality now. Fernando Cajati is the narrator and Maria Grazia Marescalchi speaks the very brief part of Sais, one of the characters in the play (because she speaks during one of musical interludes).
Consuming about two-and-a-quarter CDs, Don Giovanni has sixty-six cueing points. The Thamos excerpts have one each.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Don Giovanni by
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart are surveyed in the following publications:
High Fidelity November 1960 Vol.10 No.11 p.127: November 1965 Vol.15 No.11 pp.71-72, pp.128-132; Opera on Record p.71; CELLETTI p.467; Opera on CD (1) p.19 (2) p.23 (3) p.24; L'Avant Scène Opéra No.24 p.132, No.172 p.178 ; MET p.299; MET(VID) p.168; PENGUIN p.231; Classic CD September 1993 p.32; Opera on Video p.26; GIUDICI p.451 (2) p.766; International Opera Collector Winter 1997 No.6 p.18; Diapason No.450 juillet-aoüt 1998 p.50; Le Monde de la Musique No.223juillet-aoüt 1998 p.56; l'opera (Milano) Anno XII - N.124 dicembre 1998 - Speciale Scala - Stagione 1998/99 p.111; Répertoire No.131 janvier 2000 p.20, No.132 février 2000 p.20; American Record Guide January/February 2002 Vol.65 No.1 pp.56-57; International Record Review February 2002 p.22
(The) Gramophone - September 2007 pp.90-91 [JBS]
Opera - August 2007 p.1004 [AB]
Opera News - January 2008 pp.60-61 [RP]
Fanfare - Volume 30 No.2 November/December 2006 pp.212-213 [RT]; Vol.31 No.3 January/February 2008 pp.191-192 [RT]
Orpheus - März + April 2007 S.58 [GH]
Diapason - No.550 S septembre 2007 p.128 [JC]
International Record Review - July/August 2007 p.79 [PB]
American Record Guide - January/February 2008 Vol.71 No.1 pp.133-134 [RVL]
Classic Record Collector - Spring 2008 pp.94-95 [TP]
Classica Répertoire - No.75 septembre 2005 p.106 (mention) [AT]: No.95 septembre 2007 p.77 [AT]
Ópera Actual (Barcelona) - No.107 enero-febrero 2008 p.90 [JR]
ALLEGRO MAGAZINE
The BBC broadcast the performance but unfortunately the original tapes have been lost and what we have on these discs is a private off-air recording, which has its limitations. The sound in general is small-scale and congested, there is a great deal of distortion in forte passages, some variation in tape speed and also some drop-outs. The orchestral sound is scrawny and undernourished but the voices are, in the main, well caught, even though they vary in strength due to the singers’ positioning on stage. The Stone Guest, who should be a thundering experience in the church yard scene in act 2, is very distant and doesn’t convey the frightening situation. The recording is also afflicted with stage noises, which quite often heighten the live feeling. One example is after the sextet in act 2 when Leporello eventually manages to run away from Don Ottavio, Masetto et al and we vividly hear Geraint Evans’ footsteps disappearing. Audience reactions are also captured; sometimes laughter, obviously as a reaction to visual gags.
Georg Solti recorded Don Giovanni twice commercially, first in the 1970s and again in the 1990s; the latter being the most successful. As can be expected from him this early reading is dynamic and occasionally hard-driven, sometimes also a bit heavy-handed. This was long before period performance practice had made its entrance. It was obviously a lavish production but it was criticized at the time because it took so long to change the scenes. This is nothing that the listener needs to worry about, and provided one can accept the mono sound and the shortcomings I have listed above there is a lot to enjoy. Zeffirelli-Solti had picked a cast that is among the best on any recorded performance.
Four of the singers are represented on ‘regular’ recordings of this opera. Cesare Siepi sang the title role twice for Decca under Josef Krips and Erich Leinsdorf. He was a great favourite, not least at the Metropolitan, both for his dashing stage appearance and for his superb singing and acting. He was a master at adapting his voice to the differing moods and attitudes of this many-faceted character. Listen for example to the recitative in the first act when he tries to ensnare Zerlina. In the duet La ci darem la mano his voice shivers with passion. Elsewhere he can be menacing, cynical, proud or just good-humoured. He sings a rousing Champagne aria. He is wheedling and sly in the scene where, disguised as Leporello, he coaxes Masetto to hand over his weapons. The serenade has been more honeyed in other versions. This Don Giovanni is so self-assured that he doesn’t need to be ingratiating. He sings it rather quickly and straightforwardly. Sometimes he and Geraint Evans’ Leporello deliver their lines in recitatives at machine-gun rattle speed, which may have been effective on stage but on record it tends to sound merely breathless. Geraint Evans – the knighthood lay in the future when this recording was made - set down this role for EMI under Barenboim in 1975. Alongside Figaro and Falstaff this was one of his signature roles. With his crystal-clear enunciation and perfect Italian – Italians thought him Sicilian – he is ideal in the role. He makes the most of his solo scenes, wringing the last drop of meaning out of the catalogue aria. Mirella Freni, very early in her career, is a fresh, lyrical and lovely Zerlina, Batti, batti, o bel Masetto wonderfully nuanced. She also recorded it twice: for EMI with Klemperer in the mid-1960s and a decade later for Philips with Colin Davis. Philips also recorded the opera in conjunction with the Mozart celebrations in 1956 with Rudolf Moralt conducting and Sena Jurinac singing Donna Elvira. She catches to perfection the vacillating feelings of this unhappy character and the aria Ah, fuggi il traditor boils with anger, sorrow and frustration. Her voice seems to have hardened a little and acquired an edge, compared to the Philips recording but it is still a fine achievement. In the late 1950s she also recorded Donna Anna for DG under Fricsay, a role that was a size too big for her, even though she sang it with style. Solti’s Donna Anna is, however, superbly suited to the part and she is probably the main reason for acquiring this set. Turkish soprano Leyla Gencer was for many years regarded as one of the greatest singers of her generation but for some reason she was almost totally ignored by the record companies. Was her voice badly suited to the microphone? Judging from this recording it wasn’t at all. On the contrary hers is one of the most consummate readings ever, both interpretatively and vocally. She was often compared to Callas and she has the same identification, the same intensity but has none of the defects of Callas, no disfiguring vibrato, no shrillness and a better feeling for Mozartean style. Try her in the recitativo accompagnato and aria Don Ottavio, son morta! … Or sai chi l’onore (CD1 tr. 22-23) and I am sure you will be convinced of her greatness. At her side Richard Lewis’s Don Ottavio tends to pale, but on his own he is excellent: stylish, nuanced and with a fine legato. His Dalla sua pace (CD1 tr. 25) is on a par with Anton Dermota’s, which is praise indeed. Robert Savoie is a good Masetto and he sounds so miserable after he has been beaten up by Don Giovanni that one almost feels his pain. David Ward is a monumental Commendatore.
There are good notes by Patrick O’Connor and the booklet also has the full libretto with English translation, as is the rule with these issues in the Royal Opera House Heritage Series.
Not a first or only choice but a splendid complement to a recording in
modern sound. First class singing by all hands and one of the best Donna Annas
anywhere.
Recordings of Don Giovanni by
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart are surveyed in the following publications:
Links from OPERA NEWS
Archives related with Leyla Gencer's Performances
Assassinio nella
Cattedrale > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... Leyla Gencer's First Chorister is the voice (shiny
and powerful) first heard; her
soaring commentary returns frequently, sometimes accompanied by the less ...
Opera News - Once More
to the Cathedral
... nella Cattedrale had its premiere at La Scala on
March 1, 1958, with bass Nicola
Rossi-Lemeni in the role of Thomas Becket and soprano Leyla Gencer as the ...
Assassinio nella
Cattedrale > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... In her topmost notes she may not quite equal the
late Leyla Gencer, who created
the role, or Virginia Zeani, who quickly took it up; but Marrocu is one of few
...
ATTILA
Grandissimo
Maestro > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... I
conducted Attila for the first time in Florence in the early '70s [1972], with
[Nicolai] Ghiaurov as Attila and, as Odabella, Leyla Gencer. ...
Conquering Attila > Opera News
> The Met Opera Guild
... Sandro Sequi's 1972 Florence production of Attila, below, with
Veriano Luchetti
(Foresto) and Leyla Gencer (Odabella) Foto Marchiori/Opera News Archives. ...
BELISARIO
DONIZETTI: Belisario
... Alaimo and Joyce El-Khoury; for thrilling drama, find
Gianandrea Gavazzeni’s
rough-and-ready 1969 Venetian performance with Giuseppe Taddei and Leyla
Gencer. ...
Opera
News - Belisario
... Canadian soprano Joyce El-Khoury
operates on a narrower format than did Leyla Gencer, the best-known Antonina of
the late-twentieth-century Donizetti revival. ...
CATERINA CORNARO
Opera News - Caterina
Cornaro
... After 1845, no performances of the opera were
given until 1972, when it
was resurrected in Naples for Leyla Gencer. It has yet to ...
Caterina Cornaro, Castor
et Pollux I Festival de Radio France et ...
... The proud title role attracted two great divas in
the twentieth century, Leyla Gencer
and Montserrat Caballé, both of whom revived the work with success. ...
DON GIOVANNI
Don Giovanni > Opera
News > The Met Opera Guild
... Richard Lewis's mild-mannered Ottavio, singing
sweetly in all-too-English
Italian, is no match for Leyla Gencer's awe-inspiring Anna. ..
The Practice > Opera
News > The Met Opera Guild
... Similarly, we have Leyla Gencer, a soprano not
given to pulling punches, cast as
an emotive Donna Elvira in a terrific Don Giovanni conducted by Francesco ..
Don Giovanni > Opera
News > The Met Opera Guild
... edgy at the top. Leyla Gencer displays much
agility, not much expressive
urgency, as Donna Elvira. Graziella Sciutti, the sweetest ...,
(SE), "STUDIO" Recording of Excerpts
(STC), Composite "STUDIO" Recording made up from more than one source
(SCE), Composite "STUDIO" Recording of Excerpts from more than one source
(LI), "LIVE" Recording
(LE), "LIVE" Recording of Excerpts
(LC), "LIVE" Composite Recording from more than one performance
(LCE), Excerpts from more than one "LIVE" Performance
(RA), A Radio Performance
(RE), Excerpts from a Radio Performance
(RC), Composite Radio Performance from more than one broadcast
(RCE), Excerpts from more than one broadcast performance
(FI), Film or/and sound track of a film
(FE), Excerpts of an opera from a film or/and the sound track of a film
CELLETTI, Il Teatro d'Opera in Disco by Rodolfo Celletti - Rizzoli - 1988
EJS Discography, EJS: Discography of the Edward J. Smith Recordings - The Golden Age of Opera, 1956-71 by William Shaman, William J. Collins, and Calvin M. Goodwin - GreenwoodPress - 1994
GIUDICI, L'Opera in CD e Video by Elvio Giudici - il Saggiatore Milano - 1995. Second Edition - 1999 - is indicated by (2)
HARRIS, Opera Recordings - A Critical Guide by Kenn Harris - David and Charles - 1973
MARINELLI, Opere in Disco by Carlo Marinelli - Discanto Edizione - 1982
MET, The Metropolitan Opera Guide to Recorded Opera - edited by Paul Gruber - Thames and Hudson - 1993
MET(VID), The Metropolitan Guide to Opera on Video - edited by Paul Gruber - W.W. Norton & Co. Ltd. - 1997
More EJS, More EJS: Discography of the Edward J. Smith Recordings by William Shaman - William J. Collins - Calvin M. Goodwin - Greenwood Press 1999
NEWTON (Verdi), Verdi - Tutti i libretti d'opera edited by Piero Mioli
PENGUIN, The Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs by Edwin Greenfield - Robert Layton - Ivan March - Penguin Books 1993
Discos Gramófono (Barcelona), Compañía del Gramófono Sociedad Anónima Española
Gramófono (Barcelona), Compañía del Gramófono Sociedad Anónima Española
