RECORDINGS & REVIEWS
[from Macbeth to Pikovaya Dama]
Macbeth [Live]
Note: Some of the texts may contain letter and word errors due to the difficulty
of reading old newspapers or magazines.
14.01.1960 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Massimo di Palermo
Vittorio Gui
Giuseppe Taddei (Macbeth); Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Ferruccio Mazzoli
(Banco); Mirto Picchi (Macduff); Franco Ricciardi (Malcolm); Stefania Malagu
(una dama di Lady Macbeth); Giudo Malfatti (un medico); Leonardo Ciriminna (un
domestico); Ugo Miraglia (un sicario); Giorgio Rossetti (un araldo)
Cedar – 2 CDs
MACBETH 1960
FANFARE MAGAZINE
LYNN RENE BAYLEY
Verdi Macbeth • Vittorio Gui, cond; Giuseppe Taddei (Macbeth); Leyla Gencer (Lady
Macbeth); Stefania Malagu (Lady-in-waiting); Mirto Picchi (Macduff); Ferruccio
Mazzoli (Banquo); Franco Ricciardi (Malcolm); Teatro Massimo di Palermo O &
Ch • Urania 22.407, mono (2 CDs: 142:38) Live: Palermo 1/14/1960.
This is one of those frustrating live recordings that opera fans, particularly Leyla Gencer fans, both live and die for. It’s also, in this particular incarnation, an excellent performance presented in the cheapest, junkiest packaging imaginable: a flip-over, double-CD box with a four-page “booklet” (I’m being charitable by calling it a booklet) that simply lists the cast and track index. But I suppose we should be grateful that it’s even out. Formerly available on Great Opera Performances (1993), Pantheon (1995), and Living Stage (1999), all its earlier issues have sunk without a trace, so the Urania release is the only one you can get.
The sound quality is awful, and difficult to listen
to. Both voices and orchestra were cramped to an almost unbelievable degree by
the original tape recording, making it even shriller than the 1952 Callas
performance conducted by de Sabata. Unluckily, I never heard Gencer live, but I
did hear Taddei, and this recording is a mere shadow of his voice. Urania has
attempted to correct some of the harshness of sound by introducing a fairly
hefty amount of reverberation. I commend them in their efforts, but the result
is kind of like listening to a very shrill bell ringing in an empty locker
room. What they needed to do was rather less reverb and more equalization:
restore some of those missing mid- and low-range frequencies.
Vittorio Gui was a good, solid, but unimaginative
conductor. His work in this opera lies somewhere between the badly misjudged
phrasing and lack of flow on the Erich Leinsdorf recording (RCA) and the highly
imaginative, atmospheric conducting of de Sabata (EMI). He imparts drama,
cohesion, and a good musical flow, but just misses on atmosphere. Gencer’s
characterization of Lady Macbeth is very good, technically more secure but not
as emotionally intense as Leonie Rysanek or Callas. She was to perfect her characterization
further by the time of her 1968 performance, though by then the steely security
of her high range had become rather more careful. Taddei is one of the most
imaginative and intense Macbeths on record, in his own way the equal of Leonard
Warren. The vastly underrated Mirto Picchi didn’t have a beautiful tenor voice
but he was a great actor, and Macduff’s aria here has real depth and meaning.
Shockingly, it sounds as if there were only 30 people in the audience that
night.
I’m not sure if this recording can be helped by
re-equalization, but you might give it a shot. Except for the Callas
performance, there’s none really finer, no matter how superior studio sound may
be. Your reaction may differ.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
ANTHONY D. COGGI
Verdi Macbeth. • Giuseppe Taddei, baritone (Macbeth); Leyla Gencer, soprano (Lady
Macbeth); Mirto Picchi, tenor (Macduff); Ferruccio Mazzoli, bass (Banco);
Chorus & Orchestra of Teatro Massimo, Palermo, conducted by Vittorio Gui. • Replica ARPL 32451 (three discs, mono; Live
performance January 14, 1960), $29.94 [distributed by German News].
Verdi Macbeth, Don Carlos: Duets. • Tito Gobbi, baritone (Macbeth); Amy Shuard, soprano (Lady Macbeth); Andre Turp, tenor (Macduff); Joseph Rouleau, bass (Banco); Chorus & Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, conducted by Francesco Molinari-Pradelli; Jon Vickers, tenor (Carlos); Tito Gobbi (Rodrigo); Chorus & Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, conducted by Carlo Maria Giulini. • Melodram 435 (three discs, mono; live performances: Macbeth, March 31, 1960; Don Carlo, May 12, 1958), $32.94 [distributed by German News].
Neither performance is likely to displace your favorite from among studio recordings of the Callas “pirate,” but both are worth investigating, less because of the Macbeths than because of their Ladies, neither of whom recorded the role (or much else for that matter) commercially. Taddei's solid, sturdy Verdian baritone is heard to better advantage in the superior sound of his commercial release (London A-1380; no longer listed in Schwann) while Gobbi would surely not want this Macbeth to be the one by which he is remembered. This was, I believe, Shuard's first attempt at the part. She is at her best neither on her entrance nor her final appearance, and, though much of what she does in between is commendable, these first and last impressions are the ones which endure. Macbeth's letter is not so much read as amateurishly declaimed in dreadfully accented Italian, while her terror is so self-consciously externalized in the scene Verdi saw fit to ennoble by titling it “Gran scena del sonnambulismo” that it emerges as just another soprano aria: its climactic high D sung, not con fil di voce as Verdi instructs, but at full tilt and held for a beat or two longer than necessary. Her brightly luminous soprano is one I fancy more in Sieglinde's and Turandot's (to name but two roles for which she is noted) music than in this opera, and though its gleam does bestow a touch of brilliance to the “Brindisi” (even as it draws unwelcome attention to a previously unsuspected kinship with its more famous counterpart in Traviata), I prefer in'this opera a timbre more cupo: precisely, in fact, that of Gencer whose Lady Macbeth (and, some might say, entire career) was overshadowed by Callas'. Unlike Sutherland, Caballé, and Tebaldi, whose qualities differed sufficiently from Callas' for record company moguls to promote them as worthy rivals, Gencer's strengths were all too similar though differing in degree. Thus, though she is likely to sound like Callas on a “good” night vocally, she lacks, to some extent, Callas' intensity and sense of textual nuance. That is, perhaps, an oversimplification, but it's a reasonable description of Gencer's performance here. Since she is a better foil than Nilsson to Taddei's Macbeth, her presence further enhances his dramatic effectiveness.
Gobbi, Melodram's Macbeth, was obviously out of vocal
sorts. High notes are lunged at rather than sung (give him credit though; he
doesn't shy away from them or transpose), his voice grows huskier as the
evening wears on, and his most lyric aria, “Pietà, rispetto, amore,” is omitted
entirely. According to Verdi, the third most important character in the opera
after Mr and Mrs Macbeth was the witch coven, and the ladies of the Covent
Garden chorus and their uncredited chorus master deserve much praise. For once,
the cackling is neither embarrassing nor quaint. The last line of each of the
first-act prophecies fades into nothingness to chilling effect, and the
(unwritten) laughter they supply during the vocally blank bars following their
tale of the drowned sailor is most effective. The men are their match in the
usually risible “Assassins' Chorus,” and together they supply one of the most
touching renditions of “Patria oppressa” I have ever heard. In contrast, the
Palermo choristers, though no less precise, are nowhere near as characterful:
the witches, especially, ignore Verdi's instructions to sound like witches.
Molinari-Pradelli is, for the most part, a secure and knowledgeable conductor,
though, under his baton, the end of the opera (from Macbeth's death on) is more
than a little perfunctory, as though all the important parts had been played
and a “let's get it over with” attitude had taken over. Gui's fiery reading is
more to my taste, especially since in the intervening decade between this
performance and the Florence May Festival one I reviewed in Fanfare VIII: 1 he
apparently learned how to coax the requisite slancio and expansiveness for the
first- and second-act finales out of his colleagues. Apart from Rouleau's
better-than-average Banco on Melodram and Replica's Physician (whose Italian,
unlike that of his London-based counterpart's, does not grate the ear), the
supporting singers on both sets range from adequate on down. Neither
performance is complete. Both abridge Duncan's entry march and omit the second
verse of Lady Macbeth's cabaletta (“Or tutti, sorgete”) as well as the chorus
of Aerial Spirits in the third act (though not, curiously, the line calling
upon them to appear!). In addition, Covent Garden omits the witches' return at
the end of Act I, scene 1 (retained by Gui who cuts, instead, their jaunty
chorus immediately preceding Macbeth's and Banco's entrance) and the extended
ballet sequence.
With but one awkward, avoidable side break, Melodram
manages to squeeze Macbeth onto five sides which allows for a bonus. Though
merely referred to as Don Carlos “Duets” on the cover, Side 6 actually contains
most of the first San Just scene (from Rodrigo's entrance to the end) and the
dungeon scene through Rodrigo's death, with both singers and conductor in top
form.
Melodram's clean, mono sound (probably of broadcast
origin) is consistently better than Replica's which is patched from various
sources. Most of the latter is dim and distant, but Macduff's and Macbeth's
arias, by contrast, are in so jarringly different an acoustic (loud, echoey,
and vocally unflattering) as to raise doubts they are from the same
performance. Surfaces are good on both sets (there are some inexplicable thumps
on Replica's Side 4) and audience noises are at a minimum on both, though the Sicilians
are quicker to applaud than the Londoners. Both boxed sets contain librettos in
Italian only (Replica's tailored to fit the text as sung; Melodram's a standard
reprint oblivious of cuts) but no notes.
Though Callas' Lady Macbeth (Turnabout THS 65131/3)
reigns supreme, her vis-a-vis (Enzo Mascherini) is one of the weakest on disc,
and there is no set which, in my opinion, I can unequivocally recommend over
the others. In my last Macbeth review, I did ultimately opt for the Angel
recording under Muti (SX3833). Given the constraints of space, I shall have to
direct you to that review if you care to know why.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
HENRY FOGEL
Verdi Macbeth. • Leyla Gencer, soprano (Lady Macbeth); Giuseppe Taddei, baritone
(Macbeth); Mirto Picchi, tenor (Macduff); Ferruccio Mazzoli, bass; Chorus &
Orchestra of the Palermo Opera, conducted by Vittorio Gui. • Rodolphe RP 12440/42 (three discs, mono), $35.94
[distributed by Harmonia Mundi USA].
There are a number of problems with this set. The sound is muddy and dry for a 1960 radio broadcast, and suffers from tape dropout throughout and distortion at climaxes. The secondary roles are not well sung. Mirto Picchi's unvaried whine makes one grateful that Verdi gave Macduff little to sing, the choral work is dismally raw-toned and ragged, and the orchestral execution is sloppy despite inspired conducting.
If those are the reasons one cannot recommend this set
as a “basic” Macbeth, there are contradictory factors that will appeal to all
Verdians. Taddei, Gencer, and Gui all turn this affair into gripping operatic
drama, something substantially more than the sum of its parts.
Taddei is an intensely dramatic, incisive Macbeth with
a full comprehension of the Verdi phrase, and the vocal technique and sound to deliver
it. There are moments when he pushes the voice sharp, and others where he
misjudges an effect, but his is a performance of enormous conviction and
presence and a great deal of dramatic specificity. It is that latter attribute
that sets Taddei's Macbeth above virtually all of his recorded competition.
Leyla Gencer cannot be mentioned without the Callas
comparison, not only because of Callas' supremacy in this role but because
Gencer seems to imitate Callas in many matters of phrasing and shading. What
Gencer cannot do is bring Callas' enormous (uniquely so) range of vocal color
to this music. Taken on its own terms, though, Gencer's is a wonderful
performance. Her voice is a very flexible and more traditionally attractive
soprano voice, and she sings with abandon. Her approach does not explore the variety
inherent in Callas' realization of this complex role. However, Gencer soars
through this difficult music with technical security and a great deal of
passion. It is a performance I am very glad to know.
Vittorio Gui's conducting is just what you would
expect from this veteran—dramatic, but with many lyrical and delicate touches.
His tender accompaniment to “Pietà, rispetto, amore” is very beautiful, but he
is also capable of whipping up a heady storm. Minimal notes, in French, on
Gencer are included, as is an Italian-only libretto.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Macbeth by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed
in the following publications:
Harris p.162; Opera on Record p.201; Celletti p.936; Opera
on CD (1) p.47 (2) p.53 (3) p.66; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.40 p.106,
mise à jour septembre 2000; MET p.573; MET (VID) p.359; Penguin
p.487; Giudici p.881 (2) p.1431; Opéra International No.72
septembre 1994 p.112; Répertoire No.108 décembre 1997 p.8; International
Opera Collector Winter 1998 No.10 p.32; Opéra Interational février
1999 No.232 p.68, No.266 mars 2002 p.18
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Orpheus - Juni 1995 S.61
Opera Quarterly - Vol.4 No.2 Summer 1986 pp.138-142 [DAF]
THE GAZETTE
1986.02.14
DIE TAGESZEITUNG
1987.10.10
L'OPERA IN CD E VIDEO
1995
Macbeth
(melodramma in quattro atti di Francesco Maria Piave)
Firenze 14 marzo 1847
(primo rifacimento: Parigi 21 aprile 1865) (secondo rifacimento: Milano 28 gennaio 1874)
Firenze 14 marzo 1847
(primo rifacimento: Parigi 21 aprile 1865) (secondo rifacimento: Milano 28 gennaio 1874)
Personaggi: Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Banco, Macduff, Dama,
Medico
1952 E.Mascherini, M.Callas, I.Tajo, G.Penno, A.Vercelli, D.Caselli; coro e
orchestra Teatro Alla Scala, direttore Victor De Sabata (dal vivo) Nuova Era
(2 CD) ✰✰✰
1959 L. Warren, L.Rysanek, J.Hines, C.Bergonzi, C.Ordassy, G.Pechner; coro e or
chestra del teatro Metropolitan, direttore Erich Leinsdorf Rca (2 CD) ✰
1959 Cast, coro e orchestra come sopra, direttore Erich Leinsdorf (dal vivo) Arkadia
(2 CD) ✰
1960 G. Taddei, L.Gencer, F.Mazzoli, M.Picchi, S.Malagu, G.Malfatti; coro e
orche stra del teatro Massimo di Palermo, direttore Vittorio Gui (dal vivo) Gop
(2 CD) ✰✰
1964 G.Taddei, B.Nilsson, G.Foiani, B.Prevedi, D.Carral, G.Morresi; coro e
orchestra dell'Accademia di Santa Cecilia, direttore Thomas Schippers Decca (2
CD) ✰✰✰
1970 D.Fischer-Dieskau, E.Suliotis, N.Ghiaurov, L.Pavarotti, H.Lawrence,
R.Myers; coro «Ambrosian Opera», London Philharmonic Orchestra, direttore
Lamberto Gardelli Decca (2 CD) ✰
1976 P.Cappuccilli, S.Verrett, N.Ghiaurov, P.Domingo, S.Malagú, C.Zardo; coro e
orchestra Teatro Alla Scala, direttore Claudio Abbado DG (2 CD) ✰✰✰✰✰
1976 S.Milnes, F.Cossotto, R.Raimondi, J.Carreras, M.Borgato, C.Del Bosco; coro
«Ambrosian Opera», New Philharmonia, diret tore Riccardo Muti EMI (2 CD) ✰✰
1983 R.Bruson, M.Zampieri, R.Lloyd, N.Shicoff, L.Aliberti, P.Salomaa; coro e
orchestra della Deutsche Oper di Berlino, direttore Giuseppe Sinopoli PHILIPS
(2 CD) ✰✰✰
1986 L.Nucci, S.Verrett, S.Ramey, V.Luchetti, A.C.Antonacci, S.Fontana; coro e
orchestra del teatro Comunale di Bologna, direttore Riccardo Chailly Decca (2 CD) ✰✰✰✰
1987 L.Nucci, S. Verrett, J.Leysen (S.Ramey), P.Volter (V.Luchetti),
A.C.Antonacci, S. Fontana; coro e orchestra del teatro Comunale di Bologna,
direttore Riccardo Chailly; regia Claude D'Anna, scene Eric Simon, costumi
Didier Sainderichin LD Decca (3 facciate) ✰✰✰✰
1987 R.Bruson, M.Zampieri, J.Morris, D.O'Neill, S.Sweet, J.Becker, coro e
orchestra della Deutsche Oper di Berlino, direttore Giuseppe Sinopoli; regia
Luca Ronconi, scene e costumi Luciano Damiani, regia televisiva Brian Large LD Pioneer Artists (3 facciate) ✰✰✰
Con ogni probabilità fu proprio questa edizione del
Macheth a far nascere i cosiddetti «dischi pirata», quei microsolchi
clandestini che sul finire degli anni Sessanta si andavano a comprare -
pagandoli salatissimi con la scusa che venivano dall'America-solo in certi
negozi e solo dalla tal persona, preceduti dal fatidico e indispensa bile «mi
manda...». Una nascita che rifletteva la lentezza con cui le direzioni
artistiche delle grandi etichette discografiche tenevano dietro ai gusti del
pubblico, i quali stavano cambiando rapidamente sull'onda accade sempre così dell'emozione
suscitata da talune interpretazioni che ribaltavano un certo modo d'intendere
il melodramma. Tale mutamento, è ovvio, vedeva la Callas in prima fila e si
potrebbe riassumere dicendo che nel teatro d'opera stava per l'ap punto
imponendosi il concetto di teatro, con tutto il bagaglio di espressività e di
verità drammatica che questo comporta.
Il Macbeth era nel '52 poco più di un'opera spesare a un
insieme d'amatori piuttosto che a una compagine di professionisti.
1960 G.O.P. Gruseppe Taddei, Leyla Gencer, Ferruccio Mazzoli, Mirto Picchi; direttore Vittorio Gui (dal vivo, Palermo)
Un'edizione che oggi mostra pesanti rughe, anche a
prescindere dal suono, discreto nel suo complesso ma pur sempre inscatolato e
ovattato. La direzione di Gui è apprezzabile per la scelta di tempi molto
appropriati (la lentezza del duetto Macbeth-Lady, ad esempio, crea poco a poco
una suggestiva atmosfera d'ipnotica, sinistra immobilità) e per la rifinitezza
degli accompagnamenti: la qualità del suono poco consente di valutare, invece,
i colori e i particolari strumentali, che non sembrano comunque distri buirsi
su un ventaglio troppo ampio.
Dei due protagonisti principali, Taddei è di gran lunga
il più valido. L'accento scolpisce con incisività (sentire come mordono le
consonanti di «perché sento rizzarsi il crine?») un fraseggio vario, ovunque
interessante ma mai a prezzo della comunicativa, nonostante la sua franca
spontaneità non si sposi idealmente con la psicologia cupa, introversa e
fondamentalmente debole del personaggio. La Gencer entra declamando piuttosto a
spanne la lettera, ma è poi brava nell'aria che segue: la voce è ancora compatta,
l'accento ricorda molto quello della Callas (non è che la imiti: si sente solo
che la sua personalità ha lasciato il segno), gli estremi acuti sono lanciati
un po' allo sbaraglio ma tengono ancora. I guai cominciano al second'atto, quando
i gravi diventano alquanto intubati, gli acuti sono via via sempre più aridi e
schiacciati, l'emissione si incrina accentuando la disparità dei registri e
facendo risuonare nel naso troppe consonanti perché l'accento globale - pur
sempre interessante nelle intenzioni - non ne risenta nella realtà complessiva
del suono. L'interprete, insomma, è senz'altro adatta alla parte: non cosi la
voce, purtroppo.
Decorosi sia Mazzoli che Picchi, ottima la Dama della
Malagù già sedici anni prima dell'incisione con Abbado.
1964 Decca Giuseppe
Taddei, Birgit Nilsson, Giovanni Foiani, Bruno Prevedi; direttore Thomas
Schippers
Un deciso salto di qualità nella storia interpreta tiva
dell'opera si riscontra nella registrazione affidata dalla Decca all'allora
appena trentaquattrenne Schippers, cui evidentemente aveva giovato il successo
riportato nel famoso spettacolo spoletino con la regia di Visconti. Pure, un risultato
anch'esso molto datato. Innanzitutto, la vera e propria frenesia nei tagli: non
solo manca la ripresa della cabaletta di Lady (era ancora la prassi,
all'epoca), ma risulta quasi dimezzata la parte delle streghe, così come
amputata in modo brutale è tutta la sezione centrale del pur sublime coro che
chiude l'opera. Poi, una conce. zione dei tempi davvero difficile da capire,
prima ancora che da condividere, dove s'alternano lentezze esasperanti e scoppi
di sbrigatività altrettanto sgradevoli: una direzione, in sostanza, che sembra
puntare con eccessiva decisione verso la ricerca d'un effetto un tantino
epidermico e di maniera.
Pure, l'orchestra e ancor di più il coro di Santa Cecilia
sono eccellenti nel trovare spontaneamente, nell'insistita brillantezza del
suono voluto da Schippers, una rotondità e una pienezza che donano a molte
pagine (il duetto Lady- Macbeth; i due grandi concertati; «Patria oppressa»,
pagina davvero eccellente) un rilievo singolare: una narrazione insomma che, se
spes so sfiora soltanto la profondità espressiva dell'opera, per lo meno la
«racconta con un linguaggio teatrale da tempi moderni, costante. mente cercandoe
spesso trovandolo - un collegamento col canto in materia di accento e di
coloriti espressivi.
Canto che vede in prima fila Taddei. Al suo ti po
d'espressività così naturalmente spontanea e liricheggiante, Macbeth continua a
restare un tantino estraneo, ma evidente è l'esperienza acquisita nello scavare
tra le pieghe del fraseggio, chiaroscurato in una varietà d'accenti sempre
accoppiata a una spontanea nobiltà nell'attac care e svolgere la frase, retta
poi da una magnifica rotondità di suono: nel duetto, tanto per fare un esempio,
nessuno ha mai saputo accenta re come Taddei «nel sonno udii che oravano i
cortigiani» con quel che segue, tenendo l'intera linea sul fiato d'una
mezzavoce appena alitata eppure timbratissima.
Accanto a lui, lo strapotere vocale della Nilsson produce
suoni d'una facilità e d'un nitore veramente notevoli. Inoltre, questo è un
personaggio che la grande cantante svedese conosceva bene per averlo affrontato
fin dal '47 at Stoccolma, sotto la guida di Busch, e per averlo ripreso da
pochissimo alla Scala (memorabile spettacolo, guidato dalle estrose fantasie di
Scherchen e di Vilar) e a New York: da qui una nettezza d'articolazione, una
capacità di rendere il senso d'ogni frase attraverso un gioco sfumatissimo di
dinamica e di spessore del suono che arriva molto vicino a simulare un grande
fraseggio. Simularlo è cosa diversa dall'evidenziarlo, però: difetta non tanto
la dizione, quanto la capacità di far «suonare» la frase, donandole colore,
atmosfera e in definitiva un'espressività che nasca dalla anziché sulla parola,
sostituita da una meticolosità che finisce sempre con l'essere avvertita e col
dare fastidio.
Resta tuttavia l'immensa ammirazione nei confronti d'un
canto davanti al quale quello d'una Rysanek, ad esempio, semplicemente
sparisce: persino le brunite colorature del Brindisi, nonostante lo spianamento
dei trilli, sono nel complesso assai ben dominate. E resta il grande rispetto
nei confronti d'una vera artista che pale semente s'è impegnata a fondo per
offrire non solo una sterile galleria di folgoranti si naturali (giusto un filo
meno folgorante il re bemolle conclusivo del sonnambulismo), ma un'inter
pretazione: scolpendo quindi un personaggio ancora imperfetto, ma la cui
autorità contribui notevolmente a rivalutare.
1970 Decca Dietrich
Fischer-Dieskau, Elena Suliotis, Nicolai Ghiaurov, Luciano Pavarotti; direttore
Lamberto Gardelli
Raramente un'incisione è stata assemblata in modo
altrettanto infelice. La voce chiara di Fischer-Dieskau, dal timbro come
prosciugato nella propria sostanziale aridità, deve esordire duettando con
quella imponente, vellutatissima, rocciosa di Ghiaurov; poi il suo fraseggio,
analitico al punto di ricercare nuances all'inter no d'un chiaroscuro, s'appaia
con quello brado della Suliotis, rozzo e preoccupato solo di fare sfoggio di
potenza; aggiungiamo pure un Pavarotti che canta Macduff come si trattasse del
tardo verismo, immergiamo nell'atmosfera ferrigna, cupa, barbarica creata da
Gardelli con sonorità in sé molto belle ma indifferenti allo sbalzo di
caratteri: avremo una pallida idea del bailamme espressivo che caratterizza la
registrazione senz'altro meno riuscita di quest'opera. Il canto dei tre uomini,
beninteso, in sé e pers sé non sarebbe male, anche se Fischer-Dieskau nasaleggia
decisamente troppo («Quell'Amen non potei», «Oh questa mano, non potrebbe
l'Oceàno»), ma quanto a intenzioni interpretati ve, ognuno va per conto proprio
con totale indifferenza. Il protagonista, quindi (sostituto in extremis
dell'indisposto Gobbi, che della registrazione era stato il punto di partenza),
disegna una personalità contorta, sfruttando proprio l'aridità del timbro per
suggerire una nevrotica, arcigna instabilità emotiva: l'intelligenza è come
sempre somma, ma l'emozione non troppa, specie quando l'articolazione della
parola si fa talmente sofisticata da cadere nel calligrafismo, nel quale il
minimo errore di pronuncia - che pas serebbe quasi inosservato con un
manierismo minorerisalta fastidiosamente (come la e stret tissima, a gola
chiusa, di «Squillo etérno», tanto per fare un esempio).
Ghiaurov sfoggia una voce in cui bellezza, ampiezza e
personalità si fondono in una linea di canto superba: l'accento, tuttavia,
poggia esclusi vamente sulla potenza, in un appiattimento espressivo alternato
a platealità chese esaltano il cantantemortificano però l'interprete, il quale
andrà ricercato nell'incisione con Abbado, dove veramente toccherà altezze
shakespeariane. Considerazioni analoghe per Pavarotti: voce splendida e facile,
al servizio d'un fraseggio genericamente alla «cuore in mano». Quanto alla
Suliotis, cui la Decca aveva offerto un contratto per ben dieci incisioni che
tuttavia si interruppero a quota cinque proprio con questo Macbeth, bisogna
ascoltarla per credere: oscillante, urlante, gutturale, plateale. Ma temperamentosa
nonostante tutto e contro tutto.
1976 DG Piero
Cappuccilli, Shirley Verrett, Nicolai Ghiaurov, Placido Domingo; direttore Claudio
Abbado
Per mio conto, il Macbeth dei nostri tempi ha una data di
nascita precisa: il 1975, allorché Claudio Abbado diresse lo spettacolo di Gior
gio Strehler che inaugurava la stagione scalige ra. Uno spettacolo che, con
Domingo come unico elemento sostitutivo, trovò la strada dell'incisione l'anno
dopo: incisione tuttora insuperata, benché potrebbe esserlo qualora trovasse
finalmente uno sbocco al laserdisc la videoregistrazione effettuata dalla RAI
in occasione della ripresa del '79, che nel riflettere una delle più alte
fusioni tra direzione e regia che il teatro lirico abbia conosciuto in epoca
moderna, costitui rebbe la più autentica testimonianza d'un avve nimento
teatrale per forza di cose monco nella sua documentazione solo audio. La
direzione di Abbado s'impone innanzitutto per la qualità peculiarissima del
suono, che s'u nisce a una concertazione non meno peculiare: un suono
vibrantissimo eppure come ovattato, nel quale il sussurro soffocato e
l'atmosfera misteriosa sono i tratti dominanti. Un suono mol to bello, inoltre,
pieno e rotondo ma sempre ri finito, anche nei momenti più stravolti e allucinati,
in una morbidezza vellutata che non viene mai meno nel suo piegarsi alle più
sottili mutazioni di spessore, di dinamica, di colorito. Trevor Nunn, uno dei
più grandi registi inglesi contemporanei, ha fissato su video una sensa zionale
regia del Macbeth di Shakespeare, in cui l'intensità della recitazione dei due
veri e propri mostri sacri Ian McKallan e Judi Dench non sale mai oltre il
mezzoforte: la Dench, poi, a un cer to punto del sonnambulismo inarca il
proprio sommesso soliloquio con un lungo, lunghissimo, eterno grido muto, la
bocca spalancata da cui non proviene alcun suono, in un silenzio che romba
negli orecchi con una forza addirittura dirompente. Cosi era già, parecchi anni
prima, il Macbeth di Abbado: l'acme della tragedia consumata nel minimo dei
decibel, ma la cui elettricità, più che scintille, scocca veri e propri fulmini
nella logica teatrale stupendamente unitaria con cui la concertazione incastra
i singoli episodi in una progressione continua, che non conosce la minima
concessione all'effetto gratuito ma individua infallibilmente i diversi climax
drammatici.
Un esempio immediato è la marcia interna su cui fa il suo ingresso Duncano: in questa «musica villereccia», come la definisce Verdi, nel ritmo distante, estraniato, quasi sfilacciato nell'armonia sincopata che sulla carta è poco più di nulla, l'orchestra di Abbado crea una sorta di...
Un esempio immediato è la marcia interna su cui fa il suo ingresso Duncano: in questa «musica villereccia», come la definisce Verdi, nel ritmo distante, estraniato, quasi sfilacciato nell'armonia sincopata che sulla carta è poco più di nulla, l'orchestra di Abbado crea una sorta di...
OPERA (GUIA UNIVERSAL DE LA OPERA DISCOGRAFIA
2001
Macbeth
Opera en cuatro actos, con abreto de Francesco Ma na Plave, estreno de la primera versión en Florencia el 14 de marzo de 1847. Reformacia, el estreno de la segunda versión fue el 19 de abril de 1866 en Paris (es la versión más utilizada hoy en dia
Verd, como romántico un poco de adopción (el movimiento romántico lo descubrió perso nalmente con sus trabajos operisticos y con la orien tación que el mismo público le deba comiendo su indinación por las banalidades y orientándolo hacia las obras de la teratura universal que fue conociendo de adulto Entre sus aficiones fue creciendo la que sentia por las obras de Shakespeare, convertido en popular por la crecione oleada romántica, pero en sus años de trabajo interno sólo pudo escribir una sola ópera shakespeariana Macbeth, Tardio poco divulgado en el siglo paso una breve espa oscura en los años treinta y cuarenta. Despues, ha vuelto y ha obtenido una corona de grabaciones a cada cual mejor
1. ✰ Josef Metternich, Martha Mödl, Theo Hermann, Alfred Hulgert. Coro y Orquesta de la Deutsche Oper de Berlin dirigidos por Joseph Keilberth. Myto. 2 CD. 1950. (En vivo.)
2. ✰✰✰ Enzo Mascherini, Maria Callas, Italo Tajo, Gino Penno. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala de Milán dirigidos por Victor De Sabata. Emi. 2 CD. 1952. (En vivo.)
3. ✰ Josef Metternich, Astrid Varnay, Ludwig Weber, Walter Geisler. Coro y Orquesta de la Radio de Alemania Occidental dirigidos por Richard Krauss. Myto. 2 CD. 1954. (En vivo.)
5. ✰ Giuseppe Taddei, Leyla Gencer, F. Mazzoli, Mirto Picchi. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro Massimo di Palermo dirigidos por Vittorio Gui. Gop. 2 CD. 1960. (En vivo.)
11. ✰✰✰✰ Piero Cappuccilli, Shirley Verret, Nicolai Ghiaurov, Plácido Domingo. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala de Milán dirigidos por Claudio Abbado. DG. 2 CD. 1976.
12. ✰✰ Sherrill Milnes, Fiorenza Cossotto, Ruggero Raimondi, Josep Carreras. Ambrosian Opera Chorus, New Philarmonia Orchestra dirigidos por Riccardo Muti. Emi. 2 CD. 1977.
Hubo un momento en que el Verdi histórico interesaha más en Alemania que en Italia, y a esto se debe el que la primera grabación (1) integral de Macbeth fuese la de Josef Metternich con Martha Mödl (9), por otro lado muy floja, porque la Mödl no tenía el estilo adecuado y Metternich menos. Y aún así, lo volvería a intentar en otra grabación teutónica (3) con Astrid Varnay, en 1954.
De las dos grabaciones (5 y 6) de Giuseppe Taddei, la (5) nos trae a Leyla Gencer en un papel muy adecuado para ella. Pero el sonido es muy flojo y las interpretaciones acartonadas.
Las grabaciones siguientes, dejando de lado la (9), de poco interés, ofrecen a Piero
Cappuccilli en un estado notable de adecua ción al personaje (grabaciones 10, 11, y en mu cho menor grado, la 14).
Opera en cuatro actos, con abreto de Francesco Ma na Plave, estreno de la primera versión en Florencia el 14 de marzo de 1847. Reformacia, el estreno de la segunda versión fue el 19 de abril de 1866 en Paris (es la versión más utilizada hoy en dia
Verd, como romántico un poco de adopción (el movimiento romántico lo descubrió perso nalmente con sus trabajos operisticos y con la orien tación que el mismo público le deba comiendo su indinación por las banalidades y orientándolo hacia las obras de la teratura universal que fue conociendo de adulto Entre sus aficiones fue creciendo la que sentia por las obras de Shakespeare, convertido en popular por la crecione oleada romántica, pero en sus años de trabajo interno sólo pudo escribir una sola ópera shakespeariana Macbeth, Tardio poco divulgado en el siglo paso una breve espa oscura en los años treinta y cuarenta. Despues, ha vuelto y ha obtenido una corona de grabaciones a cada cual mejor
1. ✰ Josef Metternich, Martha Mödl, Theo Hermann, Alfred Hulgert. Coro y Orquesta de la Deutsche Oper de Berlin dirigidos por Joseph Keilberth. Myto. 2 CD. 1950. (En vivo.)
2. ✰✰✰ Enzo Mascherini, Maria Callas, Italo Tajo, Gino Penno. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala de Milán dirigidos por Victor De Sabata. Emi. 2 CD. 1952. (En vivo.)
3. ✰ Josef Metternich, Astrid Varnay, Ludwig Weber, Walter Geisler. Coro y Orquesta de la Radio de Alemania Occidental dirigidos por Richard Krauss. Myto. 2 CD. 1954. (En vivo.)
5. ✰ Giuseppe Taddei, Leyla Gencer, F. Mazzoli, Mirto Picchi. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro Massimo di Palermo dirigidos por Vittorio Gui. Gop. 2 CD. 1960. (En vivo.)
11. ✰✰✰✰ Piero Cappuccilli, Shirley Verret, Nicolai Ghiaurov, Plácido Domingo. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala de Milán dirigidos por Claudio Abbado. DG. 2 CD. 1976.
12. ✰✰ Sherrill Milnes, Fiorenza Cossotto, Ruggero Raimondi, Josep Carreras. Ambrosian Opera Chorus, New Philarmonia Orchestra dirigidos por Riccardo Muti. Emi. 2 CD. 1977.
Hubo un momento en que el Verdi histórico interesaha más en Alemania que en Italia, y a esto se debe el que la primera grabación (1) integral de Macbeth fuese la de Josef Metternich con Martha Mödl (9), por otro lado muy floja, porque la Mödl no tenía el estilo adecuado y Metternich menos. Y aún así, lo volvería a intentar en otra grabación teutónica (3) con Astrid Varnay, en 1954.
De las dos grabaciones (5 y 6) de Giuseppe Taddei, la (5) nos trae a Leyla Gencer en un papel muy adecuado para ella. Pero el sonido es muy flojo y las interpretaciones acartonadas.
Las grabaciones siguientes, dejando de lado la (9), de poco interés, ofrecen a Piero
Cappuccilli en un estado notable de adecua ción al personaje (grabaciones 10, 11, y en mu cho menor grado, la 14).
09.04.1968 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Grande Teatro La Fenice
Gianandrea Gavazzeni
Giangiacomo Guelfi (Macbeth); Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Lorenzo Gaetani
(Banco); Giorgio Lamberti (Macduff); Giampaolo Corradi (Malcolm); Mirella
Fiorentini (una dama di Lady Macbeth); Ledo Freschi (un domestico di Macbeth);
Alessandro Maddalena (un medico); Bruno Tessari (un sicario); Alberto Carusi
(un araldo); Alberto Carusi (prima apparizione); Eva Bianchi (seconda
apparizione); Anna Lia Bazzani (terza apparizione)
Italian Opera – 2 CDs
MACBETH 1968
FANFARE MAGAZINE
DAVID MASON GREENE
Verdi Macbeth, (complete)1; Excerpts2. • Gianandrea Gavazzeni, conductor;
Giangiacomo Guelfi, baritone (Macbeth); Leyla Gencer, soprano (Lady Macbeth);
Giorgio Casellato Lamberti, tenor (Macduff); Lorenzo Gaetani, bass (Banquo);
Chorus & Orchestra of Teatro La Fenice, Venice; Victor de Sabata,
conductor; Maria Callas, soprano (Lady Macbeth); Angela Vercelli, soprano
(Lady-in-waiting); Dario Caselli, bass (Physician); Chorus & Orchestra of
Teatro alla Scala, Milan. • Opera Italiana OPM
1 [ADD]; two discs: 74:31, 75:54. Produced by Sabina di Nicoli. (Distributed by Qualiton.) Live performance: December
7, 1952. Live performance: April 9, 19681.
According to the accompanying booklet (Italian only), this recording “offers a cast outstanding for the names of Leyla Gencer, Giangiacomo Guelfi, and Giorgio Casellato Lamberti” all head-liners who got scant attention from commercial recording interests. Later on, one discovers that its chief purpose is to memorialize the Lady Macbeth of Gencer, “the choicest Lady of our times since Callas.”
Leyla Gencer was born in Ankara, Turkey—the date is
apparently up for grabs—and made her operatic debut there in 1950. After three
further years of study in Italy, she launched a major career there at the
Teatro San Carlo, Naples, in 1953. Three years later she was called to San
Francisco to take over for Renata Tebaldi, who had canceled her appearances in
Francesca da Rimini. She sang there sporadically for a number of years, and was
heard in Chicago, Dallas, Philadelphia, and other American cities, but never at
the Metropolitan, and the most of her quite successful career was in Europe. (I
heard her in Attila in Newark in 1972.)
Gencer did indeed follow the Callas path, singing
coloratura, spinto, and dramatic roles. Her coloratura technique was
remarkable, but there were vocal problems from the start, which she largely
obscured by the passion of her singing and the effectiveness of her acting. She
took advantage of the bel canto revival of her era and left a number of
“private” recordings of then-obscure Donizetti and Verdi operas.
Verdi's intentions for his Lady Macbeth are well known
from a famous letter he wrote Salvatore Cammarano on the subject in 1848. He
saw her as “ugly and evil.” He did not want her to sing in the usual sense of
the word. He wanted her voice to be “harsh, smothered, hollow” in sum,
“diabolic.” On the occasion of Gencer's Venice appearance in the role, a local
critic heard her not as a flawed singer, but as carrying out Verdi's wishes to
the letter.
Perhaps she was, but the recorded result, however
harsh at times, sounds neither hollow nor smothered to these ears. What they
hear all too often is a vibrato a yard wide. The voice sounds old and worn
rather than evil. But perhaps the effect is intended, for though the flaw is
there on my Attila piracy (on the Robin Hood label) taped four years later, it
is by no means so obvious.
Certainly, Gencer pours temperament into her
interpretation, but for me it fails to add up to any clear-cut
characterization. Perhaps one needed to be there. The sleep-walking scene,
which can under usual circumstances stand my hair on end, seems endless and she
eschews the high note at the end. Unfortunately for Gencer, the producers, for
comparison, include in an “appendix” that scene and “Vieni! T' affretta!” as
sung by Callas, supported by de Sabata, in 1952. Even through the dreadful
recording, hers is a character one can believe in.
I have never heard the tremendous size of Guelfi's
voice so well underlined on records, but that is about all we get from him.
Here and there he indulges in some shading—in the “dagger” scene, for instance,
or at the end of the banquet—but mostly he is content to roar. Casellato
Lamberti is a Martinelli-type tenor, wiry and strenuous. Gaetani, about whom I
have no information save that he also was featured in arecently issued “live”
recording of Rimsky-Korsakov's “Maid of Pskov” with Boris Christoff, offers an
effective Banquo. The women of the chorus are frequently sour. Gavazzeni leads
a respectable performance from the orchestra, though the latter is sometimes
sloppy.
The booklet would be a model if only it made some
concessions to non-Italians. It is beautifully printed on high-quality paper,
has art-nouveau decorations, and contains, beside the libretto, a table of the
main events in Verdi's life, a plot-synopsis, a history of the opera, two
articles on Lady Macbeth, and a discography of integral recordings.
In the end, however, this strikes me as the sort of
Macbeth one is apt to get on most nights in most major Italian cities—nothing
special. (The sound, by the way, is adequate if slightly compressed. There is
some audience-noise, a ubiquitous prompter, and at one point a snare-drum
stationed next to the microphone.) Most of the commercial versions I find more
satisfying. If I had to have one only, I'd go with Cappuccini-Verrett-Abbado on
DG.
FANFARE MAGAZINE
ROBERT LEVINE
Verdi Macbeth: Highlights. • Gianandrea Gavazzeni, conductor Leyla Gencer, soprano (Lady
Macbeth); Giangiacomo Guelfi, baritone (Macbeth); Giorgio Casselato-Lamberti,
tenor (Macduff); Lorenzo Gaetani, bass (Banco); Chorus & Orchestra of
Teatro La Fenice, Venice. • Melodram 15002 [AAD]; 74:19. (Distributed by
Qualiton.) Live performance March 9, 1968.
About one hour of the opera is not presented here.
Almost all of the witches music, the solo chorus work, the trio of murderers,
the ballet, and other parts aficianados tend to sit through impatiently have
been excized. If I were cutting Macbeth to fit it on one generously packed CD,
I'd cut it exactly like this, and so, I think, would you. (I can hear the
purists yelling.) And to boot, this is a great performance, with the strongest
Macbeth on discs.
Giangiacomo Guelfi had a thrilling, huge sound. Here,
near the end of his career, he reins it in after the first scene, singing more
expressively than any other recorded Macbeth, including Leonard Warren. Just
listen to his “O vista, o vista orribile” in his first-act duet with his Lady
for real fear and trembling, the descent into lunacy in the Banquet Scene, and
the combination of arrogance, regret, and sadness in his final aria. His vocal
powers may have been on the wane (the waning sounds deliberate here most of the
time in keeping with the character), but his interpretive powers were at their
pinnacle. Great going.
His Lady is Leyla Gencer, the singing vampiress.
Regular readers know how much I admire this controversial singer, she of the
disembodied top, glottal attacks, raw middle, and gutter-level chest voice.
Well, never has she sounded so at home—this was the voice Verdi meant in the
famous “your voice is too beautiful” letter. She skips the fil de voce Db at
the close of the Sleepwalking Scene, although elsewhere the top of her voice is
incredibly free and easy, but it doesn't spoil the moment. Her reading of that
scene lacks the word-for-word spellbinding effect that Callas brought to it,
but it will still cause chills, hampered only by Gavazzeni's rather routine
conducting. Her second-act Brindisi is terrific—she differentiates completely
between the two verses while still managing every one of the notes. Her second
verse is more deliberate and pointed—the Lady is trying to act cool.
Casselato-Lamberti is an impassioned Macduff (he has
his aria and the whole finale to the first act), and Gaetani's Banco (the duet
in the first scene and aria in Act II are included) is good without knocking us
flat. The Fenice forces are in fine shape for Gavazzeni's less-than-taut
leadership: This opera, I think, was out of his Fach and he minces where he
should underline. The sound is surprisingly good. Packaging is, as usual,
sleazy but acceptable—jewel box and one folded sheet with a snapshot of Gencer
and a listing of the 19 index points. The cover is red, not blue—Melodram must
have hired someone to head their marketing department.
I wish I had been at this performance, and next to
video, this is the next best thing. Even if you're mad for Verrett, Rysanek,
Warren, Cossotto, and Milnes, you need this.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Macbeth by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed
in the following publications:
Harris p.162; Opera on Record p.201; Celletti p.936; Opera
on CD (1) p.47 (2) p.53 (3) p.66; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.40 p.106,
mise à jour septembre 2000; MET p.573; MET (VID) p.359; Penguin
p.487; Giudici p.881 (2) p.1431; Opéra International No.72
septembre 1994 p.112; Répertoire No.108 décembre 1997 p.8; International
Opera Collector Winter 1998 No.10 p.32; Opéra Interational février
1999 No.232 p.68, No.266 mars 2002 p.18
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Orpheus - Mai 1998 S.57 [IW]; August/September 2000 S.86 [IW]
American Record Guide - May/June 1998 Vol.61 No.3 p.199 [MM]
L'opera (Milano) - Supplemento al n.119 maggio 1998 p.29 [GL]
Ópera Actual (Barcelona) - junio-agosto 1998 No.28 p.104 [LB]
Das Opernglas - März 1998 S.69 [ML]
COURIER-POST
1994.01.30
12.01.1969 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di Firenze
Bruno Bartoletti
Cornell MacNeil (Macbeth); Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Luigi Roni (Banco); Angelo Mori (Macduff); Dino Formichini (Malcolm); Isabella Fite (Dama); Graziano Del Vivo (Medico); Angelo Frati (Domestico); Guerrando Rigiri (Sivaro)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MACBETH 1969
OPERADIS
Recordings of Macbeth by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed in the following publications:
Harris p.162; Opera on Record p.201; Celletti p.936; Opera on CD (1) p.47 (2) p.53 (3) p.66; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.40 p.106, mise à jour septembre 2000; MET p.573; MET (VID) p.359; Penguin p.487; Giudici p.881 (2) p.1431; Opéra International No.72 septembre 1994 p.112; Répertoire No.108 décembre 1997 p.8; International Opera Collector Winter 1998 No.10 p.32; Opéra Interational février 1999 No.232 p.68, No.266 mars 2002 p.18
16.05.1975 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di FirenzeRiccardo Muti
Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Kostas Paskalis (Macbeth); Franco Tagliavini
(Macduff); Aage Haugland (Banco); Carlo Del Bosco (Medico); Maria Borgata
(Dama); Giuliani Bernardi (Malcom)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
OPERADIS
Recordings of Macbeth by Giuseppe Verdi are surveyed in the following publications:
Harris p.162; Opera on Record p.201; Celletti p.936; Opera on CD (1) p.47 (2) p.53 (3) p.66; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.40 p.106, mise à jour septembre 2000; MET p.573; MET (VID) p.359; Penguin p.487; Giudici p.881 (2) p.1431; Opéra International No.72 septembre 1994 p.112; Répertoire No.108 décembre 1997 p.8; International Opera Collector Winter 1998 No.10 p.32; Opéra Interational février 1999 No.232 p.68, No.266 mars 2002 p.18
Comments: Recording of a performance at the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino (May or June 1975). There is a review of a performance with the alternative cast in OPERA November 1975 pp.1027-1029. The CDRs issued by Celestial Audio are (were?) listed as new issues in their website on 1 November 2004
18.05.1975 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di FirenzeRiccardo Muti
Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Kostas Paskalis (Macbeth); Franco Tagliavini
(Macduff); Aage Haugland (Banco); Carlo Del Bosco (Medico); Maria Borgata
(Dama); Giuliani Bernardi (Malcom)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MACBETH 1975
11.11.1977 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di Treviso
Maurizio Arena
Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Renato Bruson (Macbet); Ferruccio Furlanetto
(Banco); Luciano Saldari (Macduff); Osvaldo Alemanno (Malcolm); Marisa Zotti
(Dama); Ledo Freschi (Medico); Gianni Brunelli; (Domestico) Bruno Tessari (Sicaro)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MACBETH 1977
08.11.1979 MACBETH
Orchestra e coro del Teatro Sociale di Mantova
Francesco Maria Martini
Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Juan Galindo (Macbeth); Leonida Bergamonti
(Banco); Luciano Saldari (Macduff); Emilio Salvoldi (Malcolm); Gigliola Caputi
(Dama); Giacomo Bertasi (Medico)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
17.11.1979 MACBETH
Orchestra e coro del Teatro Sociale di Como
Francesco Maria Martini
Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Juan Galindo (Macbeth); Leonida Bergamonti (Banco); Luciano Saldari (Macduff); Emilio Salvoldi (Malcolm); Gigliola Caputi (Dama); Giacomo Bertasi (Medico)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
26.10.1980 MACBETH
Orchestra e coro del Teatro Goldoni, Livorno
Antonio Bacchelli
Leyla Gencer (Lady Macbeth); Mario Zanasi (Macbeth); Mario Rinaıdo (Banco); Luciano Saldari (Macduff); Dino Formichini (Malcolm); Giovanna di Rocco (Dama); Albert Carusi (Medico)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MACBETH 1980
La luce langue, il faro spegnesi Act II Scene II
Madama Butterfly [Live]
11.02.1954 MADAMA BUTTERFLY
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro San Carlo di Napoli
Gabriele Santini
Leyla Gencer (Cio-Cio San); Fernanda Cadoni (Suzuki); Maria Rosaria
Cinquergrana (Kate Pinkerton); Giancinto Prandelli (Pinkerton); Mario Borriello
(Sharpless); Piero de Palma (Goro); Gerardo Gaudioso (Il commissario
Imperiale); Cristiano Dalamagas (Yamadori); Giovanni Amadeo (Bonzo)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MADAMA BUTTERFLY 1954
Maria Stuarda [Live]
02.05.1967 MARIA STUARDA
Orchestra e Coro del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino
Francesco Molinari-Pradelli
Leyla Gencer (Maria Stuarda); Shirley Verrett (Elisabetta I); Franco
Tagliavini (Roberto, conte di Leicester); Agostino Ferrin (Sir Giorgio Talbot);
Giulio Fioravanti (Lord Cecil); Mafalda Masini (Anna Kennedy); Mario Frosini
(un araldo)
Hunt – 2 CDs
MARIA STUARDA 1967
FANFARE MAGAZINE
ROBERT LEVINE
Donizetti Maria Stuarda. • Leyla Gencer (Maria Stuarda); Shirley Verrett (Elisabetta); Franco
Tagliavini (Leicester); Giulio Fioravanti (Lord Cecil); Agostino Ferrin
(Talbot); Chorus & Orchestra of Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, conducted by
Francesco Molinari Pradelli. • Hunt Productions 2 HUNT CD 543 (two compact
discs [AAD]; 69:04, 58:03) [distributed by Qualiton]. Recorded Live, Florence,
May 2, 1967.
For anyone unfamiliar with the great, underrecorded Leyla Gencer, this set will serve as an excellent introduction. Gencer's voice was (indeed, probably is) a very complicated instrument. In the early and middle '50s she was best known as a Verdi soprano, and the sound was even, rich, and well produced, with slightly disembodied piannissimi. By the end of the decade and during the '60s she had moved into the bel canto repertoire, singing Lucia, Elvira ml puritani, a Rossini rarity or two, Donizetti's three queens (Maria Stuarda, Elisabetta, and Anna Bolena—this last she took over from Callas at La Scala), and kept characters like Lady Macbeth and Donna Anna (!). By then the voice had become less well integrated but more interesting—it was in three relatively distinct pieces. It consisted, to make a difficult discussion easy, of a raw, very effective and dramatic if hardly beautiful chest voice, a rather hollow, unfocused (at times) but also colorful middle, and a spectacular, bright, huge top, healthy up to an Eb above high C. The disembodied soft notes remained, always sounding as if they wre coming from the spirit world—sort of the singing vampiress.
Gencer was adored all over Europe but ignored by the
record companies and most of the United States, probably because her repertoire
so closely mirrored first Tebaldi's and then Callas'. Not only did they get
there first, but the former offered creamier sound and the latter deeper
portrayals. Both the Turkish Gencer and the Greek Callas had voices which were
acquired tastes: Callas had an extra dose of genius or two and so hers was more
easily acquired. At any rate, our friendly pirates performed a great service
when they began taping her—she's very special, offers thrills galore, and
deserves to be heard.
Two of Gencer's Queens have now appeared on CD, on a
label called Hunt, and much of the re-mastering is impressive. Even if it
weren't, I would have to recommend this release—of the three available on discs
(although the other two are only out on black disc), this is the finest. Sills
is superb, if overembellished, but the conducting is mopey and the remainder of
the cast are not bel canto people. Sutherland is out of her league. She sings
beautifully at times and offers some impressive fireworks, but much of this
role, in particular its crucial middle act, sits in the weakest part of La
Stupenda's voice and she transposes almost every line up in a most unwelcome
and un-Maria-Stuarda-like way. She is more dramatic than one might have
guessed, but her reading can not be deemed a success.
In brief, the opera, based on Schiller's play, has as
its centerpiece a fictional meeting between Mary Stuart and Elisabeth I in
Fotheringay Park. Mary is proud and Elisabeth is jealous of her beauty.
Elisabeth insults the prisoner Mary and Mary loses her cool entirely—she calls
the Queen “impure child of Anne Boleyn” and a “vile bastard,” thus sealing her
own fate. It is a scene of unsurpassed power in Donizetti, and fans of great
hair-pulling and mud wrestling have a field day with it. Mary's long third-act
scenes, too, are rich in melodic and dramatic invention.
In the pivotal Fotheringay Act (II), Gencer sings her
opening aria dreamily, at exquisite mezza voce—Maria is recalling happier days.
When she hears that Elisabeth is nearing, she turns arrogant and the voice
harshens to good effect. When she does hurl her insults, she sings the notes of
recitative precisely as written—deep, cruel, voice-wrecking. It's
overwhelming—and so is the rest of her portrayal. All the notes, a few slurs in
fioriture aside, are there, and the top is rock solid; indeed, the top D natural
with which she ends the second act is mind-blowingly loud and brilliant.
Gencer is in good company here. Shirley Verrett made
somewhat of a speciality of this Elisabetta, and with very uningratiating music
to sing (Donizetti knew who his heroine was, even though he gave the whole
first act to Elisabetta) she still makes quite an impression. She is
dramatically right on the money and matches Gencer's vituperati veness in Act
II. It is hard to believe that anyone can sing so relentlessly loud without
losing either her voice or her mind, but Verrett manages it. (In her Act 1 duet
with Leicester he sounds like he walked out in the middle.) She was a great
mezzo.
Tenor Franco Tagliavini, as Leicester, the man between
the queens, outshines both Stuart Burrows with Sills and Pavarotti with
Sutherland. The role is thankless and lies in the dangerous e-f-g-a part of the
voice, but he manages it with passion and handsome tone. Agostino Ferrin's Lord
Talbot is impressive and sympathetic, particularly in Maria's confession scene,
and the rest of the cast, chorus, and orchestra are mightily impressive under
Molinari Pradelli's leadership.
The tape has two blips in it: In the middle of the
great confrontation/hair pulling scene five measures drop out and similarly,
eight bars in the Act III scene between Elisabetta and Cecil have disappeared.
The engineers have nicely spliced everything together, but it's pretty jarring.
The sound, as mentioned above, is acceptable. Don't miss this one. Now, where
is the also-pirated 1973 Caballé-Carreras version of this opera?
OPERADIS
Recordings of Maria Stuarda by Gaetano Donizetti are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera on Record 3 p.57; Celletti p.243; MET p.110; MET (VID) p.62; Penguin p.82; Giudici p.186 (2) p.305; Opéra International mars 1997 No.211 p.14; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.225 p.96
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Opera News - December 11, 1993, p.44
Opera Quarterly - Vol.6 No.3 Spring 1989 pp.135-137 [WA]
Opéra International - mars 1995 No.189 p.71
American Record Guide - July/August 2002 Vol.65 No.4 p.91 [DA]
Ópera Actual (Barcelona) - No.54 octubre 2002 p.79 [MC]
DICTIONAIRE DE DISQUES
1988
Maria Stuarda,
opéra.
✰✰ Leyla Gencer (Maria Stuarda), Shirley Verrett (Elisabetta), Franco Tagliavini (Leicester), Agostino Ferrin (Talbot), Ch. et Orch. du mai Musical Florentin, Francesco Molinari-Pradelli. Nuova Era IO 2227/8 (2 c.d.). Enregistré en 1967.
✰✰ Joan Sutherland (Maria Stuarda), Huguette Tourangeau (Elisabetta), Luciano Pavarotti (Leicester), Roger Soyer (Talbot), Orch. et Ch. du Comunale de Bologne, Richard Bonynge. Decca IO 425410-2 (2 c.d.). Enregistré en 1974 et en 1975.
L'intégrale prise sur le vif au Mai Musical Florentin a pour principal atout l'affrontement entre la Maria fière et résignée de Gencer et l'Elisabetta électrisante de Verrett. Le reste est plus routinier mais c'est de toute façon la rencontre entre la mezzo américaine et la soprano turque qu'on attend.
De par l'uniformité de ses couleurs vocales, Sutherland est toujours en retrait dans les rôles dramatiques, se cantonnant dans un registre élégiaque et plaintif. Le timbre de Tourangeau est toujours aussi curieux; l'interprète néanmoins est convaincante. Lorsqu'il chante et phrase avec douceur, Pavarotti, avec sa voix lumineuse, est lui aussi à son meilleur, sans toutefois être très expressif.
L'OPERA IN CD E VIDEO
1995
Maria Stuarda
(opera in tre atti di Giuseppe Bardari) Milano 30 dicembre 1835
Personaggi: Maria, Elisabetta, Leicester, Talbot, Cecil
1967 L.Gencer, S. Verrett, F. Tagliavini, A.Ferrin, G.Fioravanti; coro e orchestra del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, direttore Francesco Molinari Pradelli (dal vivo) Arkadia (2 CD) ✰✰
1974 J.Sutherland, H.Tourangeau, L.Pavarotti, R.Soyer, J.Morris; coro e orchestra del teatro Comunale di Bologna, direttore Richard Bonynge Decca (2 CD) ✰✰✰
1989 E.Gruberova, A.Baltsa, F.Araiza,, E.Ellero d'Artegna, S.Alaimo; coro e orchestra della Radio Bavarese, direttore Giuseppe Patanè Philips (2 CD) ✰✰✰✰
1967 Arkadia Leyla Gencer, Shirley Verrett,. Franco Tagliavini, Agostino Ferrin, Giorgio Fioravanti, direttore Francesco Molinari Pradelli (dal vivo, Firenze)
Grande emozione, lo ricordo benissimo, quella sera al Comunale: era il primo Maggio Musicale dopo l'alluvione di sei mesi avanti, i cui segni erano ancora evidenti ovunque, in città come in teatro. In palcoscenico, la Gencer proseguiva sul cammino delle riscoperte donizettiane-che ormai costituivano l'asse portante della sua carriera - col riproporre Maria Stuarda: ricompar sa in orrida edizione a Bergamo nel '58, e poi mai più fino a quell'anno, quando l'affrontarono sia lei che la Caballé. Il successo ricordo bene come fosse delirante: meno ne capisco, tuttavia, le ragioni. Circa la musica, si tratta senz'altro d'un'opera interessante, ma certo non meritevole di particolari fanatismi: l'ultima mezz'ora è senz'altro un Donizetti maggiore, ma la prima parte dell'ultimo atto è un Donizetti minimo, al pari dell'inizio dell'opera fino al duetto Elisabetta-Leicester che è di buon mestiere e nulla più, così come lo è quello tra Leicester e Maria; e quanto alla famosa - in Schiller - scena tra le due regine, è costruita con abilità e la sua riuscita o meno dipende interamente dal direttore e dalla protagonista. Come dire, in sostanza, che tutto il personaggio di Elisabetta è sfocato e in pratica inesistente è quello di Leicester. Ancor meno, però, sono oggi validi gli entusiasmi suscitati dalla protagonista: una Gencer dai cen tri artefatti, intubati fino alla gutturalità, ribelli nell'organizzarsi attorno a una linea vocale prov vista d'un minimo d'uguaglianza (sfocata, sfocata maledettamente l'invettiva a Elisabetta, e non c'è accento che tenga quando le note non sono scolpite, specie poi in un passo declamato), con passaggi al registro superiore sconnessi, faticosi, che producono una lamina di suono sottile e tirata allo spasimo, che l'accento vuole trasformare in incisivo e drammatico. Ma chi ritiene che il canto e figuriamoci poi il canto del primo Ottocento-debba basarsi innanzitutto sulla produzione d'un suono fermo, compatto, pulito e magari anche bello, sarà sempre a disagio davanti a una concezione di drammaticità che in qualche modo emula l'effetto del registro centrale della Callas senza però possedere l'inimitabile scolpitura brunita e fosforescente. A chi vicever sa piace sentire lo sforzo in ogni nota, piace quel l'incupirsi gutturaleggiante nei passaggi in disce sa, riceverà adeguate emozioni dall'ultima parte dell'opera, che è davvero gencerismo puro. A fronte, una Verrett sensazionale, capace quasi d'illudere che Elisabetta sia un grande perso naggio; il marchio della grande artista è perentorio nello slancio e nel nitore degli acuti - nel duetto con Leicester e nella scena con Maria e nell'accento imperioso ma capace di abbandoni sensuali e di veemente incisività. Tagliavini è al contrario inesistente, con la sua voce asprigna e bianchiccia. Di limitato rilievo sia le due voci gravi che la direzione di Molinari Pradelli.
(opera in tre atti di Giuseppe Bardari) Milano 30 dicembre 1835
Personaggi: Maria, Elisabetta, Leicester, Talbot, Cecil
1967 L.Gencer, S. Verrett, F. Tagliavini, A.Ferrin, G.Fioravanti; coro e orchestra del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, direttore Francesco Molinari Pradelli (dal vivo) Arkadia (2 CD) ✰✰
1974 J.Sutherland, H.Tourangeau, L.Pavarotti, R.Soyer, J.Morris; coro e orchestra del teatro Comunale di Bologna, direttore Richard Bonynge Decca (2 CD) ✰✰✰
1989 E.Gruberova, A.Baltsa, F.Araiza,, E.Ellero d'Artegna, S.Alaimo; coro e orchestra della Radio Bavarese, direttore Giuseppe Patanè Philips (2 CD) ✰✰✰✰
1967 Arkadia Leyla Gencer, Shirley Verrett,. Franco Tagliavini, Agostino Ferrin, Giorgio Fioravanti, direttore Francesco Molinari Pradelli (dal vivo, Firenze)
Grande emozione, lo ricordo benissimo, quella sera al Comunale: era il primo Maggio Musicale dopo l'alluvione di sei mesi avanti, i cui segni erano ancora evidenti ovunque, in città come in teatro. In palcoscenico, la Gencer proseguiva sul cammino delle riscoperte donizettiane-che ormai costituivano l'asse portante della sua carriera - col riproporre Maria Stuarda: ricompar sa in orrida edizione a Bergamo nel '58, e poi mai più fino a quell'anno, quando l'affrontarono sia lei che la Caballé. Il successo ricordo bene come fosse delirante: meno ne capisco, tuttavia, le ragioni. Circa la musica, si tratta senz'altro d'un'opera interessante, ma certo non meritevole di particolari fanatismi: l'ultima mezz'ora è senz'altro un Donizetti maggiore, ma la prima parte dell'ultimo atto è un Donizetti minimo, al pari dell'inizio dell'opera fino al duetto Elisabetta-Leicester che è di buon mestiere e nulla più, così come lo è quello tra Leicester e Maria; e quanto alla famosa - in Schiller - scena tra le due regine, è costruita con abilità e la sua riuscita o meno dipende interamente dal direttore e dalla protagonista. Come dire, in sostanza, che tutto il personaggio di Elisabetta è sfocato e in pratica inesistente è quello di Leicester. Ancor meno, però, sono oggi validi gli entusiasmi suscitati dalla protagonista: una Gencer dai cen tri artefatti, intubati fino alla gutturalità, ribelli nell'organizzarsi attorno a una linea vocale prov vista d'un minimo d'uguaglianza (sfocata, sfocata maledettamente l'invettiva a Elisabetta, e non c'è accento che tenga quando le note non sono scolpite, specie poi in un passo declamato), con passaggi al registro superiore sconnessi, faticosi, che producono una lamina di suono sottile e tirata allo spasimo, che l'accento vuole trasformare in incisivo e drammatico. Ma chi ritiene che il canto e figuriamoci poi il canto del primo Ottocento-debba basarsi innanzitutto sulla produzione d'un suono fermo, compatto, pulito e magari anche bello, sarà sempre a disagio davanti a una concezione di drammaticità che in qualche modo emula l'effetto del registro centrale della Callas senza però possedere l'inimitabile scolpitura brunita e fosforescente. A chi vicever sa piace sentire lo sforzo in ogni nota, piace quel l'incupirsi gutturaleggiante nei passaggi in disce sa, riceverà adeguate emozioni dall'ultima parte dell'opera, che è davvero gencerismo puro. A fronte, una Verrett sensazionale, capace quasi d'illudere che Elisabetta sia un grande perso naggio; il marchio della grande artista è perentorio nello slancio e nel nitore degli acuti - nel duetto con Leicester e nella scena con Maria e nell'accento imperioso ma capace di abbandoni sensuali e di veemente incisività. Tagliavini è al contrario inesistente, con la sua voce asprigna e bianchiccia. Di limitato rilievo sia le due voci gravi che la direzione di Molinari Pradelli.
OPERA (GUIA UNIVERSAL DE LA OPERA DISCOGRAFIA
2001
Maria Stuarda
Opera en tres actos, con libreto de Giuseppe Bardari, basado en una tragedia de Friedrich von Schiller, estrenada en el Teatro San Carlo ce Nápoles, el 18 de octubre de 1834.
Si alguna ópera de Donizetti debe su recuperación a la Donizetti Renaissance, ésta es une Su surgimiento, de la mano de las grandes civas canoras de los años sesenta se consolido con las grabaciones discográficas que siguieron, y hoy está fir memente enraizada en el repertorio, muchas veces formando parte de la célebre Trilogia de las re nase que ha recomdo muchos teatros
1. ✰✰ Leyla Gencer,' Shirley Verrett, Franco Tagliavini, Agostino Ferrin, Giulio Fioravanti. Coro y Orquesta del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino dirigidos por Francesco Molinari-Pradelli. Arkadia. 2 CD. 1967. (En vivo.)
2. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Shirley Verrett, Eduard Giménez, Ron Bottcher, Alan Baker. Coro y Orquesta de la American Opera Society dirigidos por Carlo Felice Cillario. Mrf 2 CD. 1967.
3. ✰✰✰ Beverly Sills, Eileen Farrell, Stuart Burrows, Louis Quilico, Christian Du Plessis. Coro John Alldis y Orquesta London Philharmonic, dirigidos por Aldo Ceccato. Millenium. 2 CD. 1971.
4. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Shirley Verrett, Ottavio Garaventa, Raffaele Ariè, Giulio Fioravanti. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala, Milán, dirigidos por Carlo Felice Cillario. Myto. 2 CD. 1971. (En vivo.)
7. ✰✰✰ Janet Baker, Rosalind Plowright, David Rendall, John Tomlinson, Alan Opie. Coro y Orquesta de la English National Opera dirigidos por Charles Mackerras, Chandos. 2 CD. 1982. (Versión en lengua inglesa.)
Una de las óperas que Leyla Gencer impulsó durante los primeros años de la Donizetti Renaissance fue esta ópera, aquí grabada (1) que cantó en el Comunale de Florencia con gran éxito. Sin embargo lo cierto es que su vaz no estaba en el mejor momento y el sonido resulta a veces un poco ingrato en los momentos algidos de la particela. Shirley Verrett muestra autoridad como Elisabetta. Tagliavini tampoco estaba bien de voz, pero por razones de envejecimiento notorio. Los res tantes intérpretes están en un nivel correcto, así como la dirección de Molinari-Pradelli.
En plena Donizetti Renaissance la English National Opera tuvo la iniciativa de dar una versión en inglés de esta ópera (7), con una protagonista de gran clase: Janet Baker, que a pesar de tener voz de mezzosoprano se enfrentó valientemente con la parte de Maria Estuardo, en la que mostró una sensibilidad y una capacidad realmente británica de interpretar el drama de la reina prisionera. Espe cialmente emotiva en las escenas de Fotheringay (destacable el aria) y en la plegaria, así como en su breve despedida de su fiel Anna Kennedy. Su oponente, Rosalind Plowright, sin tener las mismas condiciones, cumple may bien en el papel de Elisabetta. David Rendall pasa bastante desapercibido como Leicester. John Tomlinson ya aparece en el cálido papel de Talbot. La dirección de Charles Mackerras es cuidada, procurando dar relieve a los mo mentos orquestalmente excelentes que Donizetti dio a esta ópera especialmente trabajada.
CLASSICAL MUSIC
2002
Maria
Stuarda. Of
Donizetti's three "Tudor Queens," Maria Stuarda is the most gentle,
the most delicate, and the least dramatically interesting. It also presents
major musicological questions, since it exists in several versions. Donizetti
wrote the opera for Naples in 1834, but production was forbidden by the king,
and the composer hastily set the music to a totally new story as Buondelmonte.
He rewrote the work again in 1835 for production in Milan. As the autograph
scores have disappeared, subsequent performances rely on the edition published
in Paris around 1855, an edition supposedly similar to the 1834 Naples
original. Some recordings introduce material from the 1835 Milan version.
Routine is the essence of a 1971 performance from La Scala, in which Caballé seems to intentionally give her detractors all the ammunition they need: sloppy musicality, inert rhythm, and bland characterization (Myto; Gala: Opera d'Oro). Verrett tries her best to wake up the show with flamboyant voice and personality, yet she only confuses Caballé. Cillario is the dutiful conductor. In a 1972 performance for Paris Radio that is quite a contrast, a much livelier Caballé revels in the high, sustained piano passages, even summoning a fair amount of drama for her confrontation scene with Elisabetta (Memories 4417, 2CD). Michèle Vilma (mislabeled as Vilma Menendez) is a regal opponent, not quite secure in her coloratura, but her rich mezzo is a fine contrast to Caballe's ethereal soprano. A young Carreras is a great pleasure as the ardent Leicester. Santi is the dutiful follower of divas.
The most complete recording is from Bologna and is the all-around best recording as well (Decca 425410, 2CD). Sutherland creates even less of a characterization than Caballé, but other than a graceful simplicity of femininity there really is little to work with in the part. Besides, with such superb singing, who cares? Vocal technique, musicality, and sensitivity are all heard in perfect balance-an extraordinary example of her status as a major artist. Huguette Tourangeau's Elisabetta lacks Verrett's force and opulent voice, often forcing her chest tone too high into the register, yet it's an individual portrayal with genuine dramatic….
Routine is the essence of a 1971 performance from La Scala, in which Caballé seems to intentionally give her detractors all the ammunition they need: sloppy musicality, inert rhythm, and bland characterization (Myto; Gala: Opera d'Oro). Verrett tries her best to wake up the show with flamboyant voice and personality, yet she only confuses Caballé. Cillario is the dutiful conductor. In a 1972 performance for Paris Radio that is quite a contrast, a much livelier Caballé revels in the high, sustained piano passages, even summoning a fair amount of drama for her confrontation scene with Elisabetta (Memories 4417, 2CD). Michèle Vilma (mislabeled as Vilma Menendez) is a regal opponent, not quite secure in her coloratura, but her rich mezzo is a fine contrast to Caballe's ethereal soprano. A young Carreras is a great pleasure as the ardent Leicester. Santi is the dutiful follower of divas.
The most complete recording is from Bologna and is the all-around best recording as well (Decca 425410, 2CD). Sutherland creates even less of a characterization than Caballé, but other than a graceful simplicity of femininity there really is little to work with in the part. Besides, with such superb singing, who cares? Vocal technique, musicality, and sensitivity are all heard in perfect balance-an extraordinary example of her status as a major artist. Huguette Tourangeau's Elisabetta lacks Verrett's force and opulent voice, often forcing her chest tone too high into the register, yet it's an individual portrayal with genuine dramatic….
29.12.1969 MARIA STUARDA
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro San Carlo, Napoli
Francesco Molinari-Pradelli
Leyla Gencer (Maria Stuarda); Shirley Verrett (Elisabetta I); Juan Oncina
(Roberto, conte di Leicester); Plinio Clabassi (Sir Giorgio Talbot); Giulio
Fioravanti (Lord Cecil); Vera Magrini (Anna Kennedy)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MARIA STUARDA 1969
25.08.1969 MARIA STUARDA
Edinburgh International Festival
Orchestra e Coro del Maggio Musicale Fiorentino
Nino Sanzogno
Leyla Gencer (Maria Stuarda); Shirley Verrett (Elisabetta I); Franco
Tagliavini (Roberto, conte di Leicester); Agostino Ferrin (Sir Giorgio Talbot);
Giulio Fioravanti (Lord Cecil); Mafalda Masini (Anna Kennedy); Mario Frosini
(un araldo)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MARIA STUARDA 1969
Si, vuol di Francia il Rege Act I Scene II
Era d'amor l'immagine Act I Scene V
O nube che lieve Act II Scene I
Da tutti abbandonata Act II Scene II
Qual loco e questo, E sempre la stessa, Finale Act II Scene III, IV
Quando di luce rosea Act III Scene V
Deh! tu di un'umile perilere il suono Act III Scene VII
D'un cor che muore - Ah! se un giorno Act III Final Scene X
OPERADIS
Recordings of Maria Stuarda by Gaetano Donizetti are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera on Record 3 p.57; Celletti p.243; MET p.110; MET (VID) p.62; Penguin p.82; Giudici p.186 (2) p.305; Opéra International mars 1997 No.211 p.14; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.225 p.96
Medea [Live]
15.12.1968 MEDEA
Orchestra e Coro del Grande Teatro La Fenice
Carlo Franci
Leyla Gencer (Medea); Aldo Bottion (Giasone); Giovanna Fioroni (Neris);
Ruggero Raimondi (Creonte); Daniela Mazzuccato (Glauce); Rina Pallini (prima
ancella); Anna Lia Bazzani (seconda ancella); Alessandro Maddalena (un capo
delle guadrie)
Gala – 2 CDs
MEDEA 1968
OPERADIS
Recordings of Médée [Medea] by Luigi Cherubini are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera on Record 3 p.30; Celletti p.146; MET p.79; Penguin p.59; Giudici p.119 (2) p.196
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Orpheus - Juli 2001
S.74 [SL]
Classic Record Collector - Spring 2002 pp.100-101 [JTH]
American Record Guide - March/April 2002 Vol.65 No.2 p.226 [MM]
CLASSICAL MUSIC
2002
Médée
(Medea). Gluck's
so-called "reform operas" produced an array of successors, the most
successful being the elevated and serious Médée (Paris, 1797). The spoken
dialogue of the original was set to music as recitatives by Franz Lachner in
1854, and they have been used for most modern performances and recordings,
usually in Italian translation. Not only is Médée a classically poised drama,
but it also contains a spleendid title role that dominates the opera. A quick
glance at the list of recordings reveals a predominance of performances by
Maria Callas, and indeed it was she who led the modern revival of the work.
There was little serious competition during her day and practically none since.
The Callas
recordings document her career and her declining vocal state: the drama always
present, the voice less and less reliable. She always performed the opera in
Italian in the Lachner edition. Callas is never less than Callas in her
emotional involvement, but she was able to plumb the drama to a greater depth
when surrounded by like-minded colleagues, which often as not she wasn't. Two
recordings are outstanding. The 1953 La Scala performance led by Bernstein is
ablaze with drama, with Callas at the peak of her vocal security and
interpretive power (Fonit-Cetra 1019; Hunt 516; Melodram 26022). Gino Penno's
Giasone is hardly subtle, but he tries hard to react appropriately to Callas's
tigress. The 1957 studio recording led by Serafin is disappointing (EMI 66435
or Angel 63625, 2CD). You might appreciate his interpretation as
"classically restrained," but too often the feeling is one of
"correctness" with little true emotion. Even Callas seems beset by a
sense of deliberation rather than spontaneous drama. Except for the fine Glauce
of Scotto, her colleagues here are hardly an inspiring lot.
Callas's
1958 Dallas performance occurred within hours of her receipt of a telegram from
Rudolf Bing dismissing her from the Metropolitan Opera, and much of the venom
in her performance may have been inspired by this (Melodram 26005; Italiana
Opera 10, 2CD). Happily, her Giasone was a worthy opponent: Vickers, one of the
few artistic matches she ever had. Berganza, in her American debut, is the
highly persuasive Néris. Rescigno whips the Dallas Symphony (and the audience)
into a musical frenzy. By 1961 (La Scala) Callas was in vocal trouble, the
bright and secure top voice in shambles (Hunt 34028, 2CD). Curiously, Vickers
is distant and uninvolved in these proceedings, although there are strong
contributions from Simionato and Ghiaurov. Thomas Schippers's bland, slow
conducting is not at all helpful.
Only
Olivero came close to matching Callas. She's well represented in a 1967 Dallas
production taped at the dress rehearsal (Music & Arts 670, 2CD). Her
distinctive throaty soprano is passionately involved. Rescigno and the rest of
the cast sound positively inspired. Her 1971 performance at Mantua was her only
Medea in Italy (Myto 911.36, 2CD). Her voice is more forced here, with lots of
chest tone. It's a sure-fire dramatic effect, but vocally risky. The rest of
the cast is adequate at best. Still, Rescigno whips his orchestral forces into
a musical frenzy worthy of Olivero's performance, and the audience responds,
with extensive stretches of ovation included in the recording.
Gencer's
1968 performance is for fans of Gencer: her harsh voice is very much an
acquired taste (Claque 2005, 2CD).
04.06.1969 MEDEA
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Carlo Felice di Genova
Paolo Peloso
Leyla Gencer (Medea); Aldo Bottion (Giasone); Adriana Lazarini (Neris);
Paolo Washington (Creonte); Rita Talarico (Glauce); Rina Pallini (prima
ancella); Anna Di Stasio (seconda ancella); Giovanni Antonini (un capo
delle guardie)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MEDEA 1969
Medea in Corinto [Live]
20.03.1977 MEDEA IN CORINTO
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro di San Carlo
Maurizio Arena
Leyla Gencer (Medea); William Johns (Giasone); Cecilia Fusco (Creusa);
Gianfranco Casarini (Creonte); Gianfranco Pastine (Egeo); Ermanno Lorenzi
(Tideo); Luigi Paolillo (Evandro); Ivana Cavallini (Ismene)
Bonus Tracks
13.03.1977 Medea in Corinto
(General Rehearsal)
Myto – 3 CDs
MEDEA IN CORINTO 1977
FANFARE MAGAZINE
BOB ROSE
Mayr Medea in Corinto • Maurizio Arena, cond; Leyla Gencer (Medea);
William Johns (Giasone); Cecilia Fusco (Creusa); Gianfranco Pastine (Egeo);
Gianfranco Casarini (Creonte); et al; Ch & O del Teatro di San Cario di
Napoli • Myto 3MCD 993.211 (3 CDs 2007:38) Live 3/20/77
Giovanni Simone Mayr was born Johann Simon Mayr in
Bavaria in 1763. His musical talent
was developed at Ingolstadt University, and his first and only composition in
his native tongue was Leider beim Klavier, published in 1786. The following
year he emigrated to Italy, and his first opera, Saffo, premiered in 1794.
During the next 30 years Mayr composed 68 operas, mostly opera buffe. From 1801
to 1821 about 30 of his operas premiered at La Scala. In 1805 he founded a
conservatory in Bergamo. He established what was hailed as a definite concept
in Italy, known as the "Mayr School of Opera." His most illustrious
pupil was Gaetano Donizetti, whom he taught for 10 years. What Mayr did was to
combine the orchestral effects of Viennese Classicism with the more majestic
declamation of the French school, and fuse these two elements with the Italian
melodic line. His influence was much greater than his own accomplishments. He
was much admired by Rossini, and without Mayr we would not have Donizetti, and
without Donizetti we would not have Verdi.
Mayr was forgotten in his native Germany, being
considered a deserter. On the bicentennial of his birth a concert version of
Medea in Corinto, prepared by Heinrich Bauer, was performed by the Bavarian
State Radio. In 1969 a joint edition of the score, prepared by Bauer and Newell
Jenkins, was presented as the first staged opera given at Alice Tully Hall in
Lincoln Center. The performance, featuring Marissá Gal vany, was subsequently
recorded and released on LP by Vanguard. In 1823 Mayr revised certain sections
of the score, and the recording prepared by Jenkins includes certain sections
taken from the 1823 revision, and also eliminated the characters of Evandro and
Tido. This recording if faithful to the original 1813 score. In the 1994 Opera
Rara CD recording, the 1813 version is augmented in bonus tracks with the
revisions Mayr made in 1823. That recording is conducted by David Parry and
features Jane Eaglen, Bruce Ford, Raul Giménez, Alistar Miles, and Yvonne
Kenny.
Felice Romani 's libretto differs from the more
familiar treatment of the Euripedes drama that François Benoit Homann fashioned
for Cherubini. Romani adds the character of Egeo, the King of Athens, a
rejected suitor of Creusa, who supports Medea. In the most compelling dramatic
scene in the opera Medea invokes the furies from the underworld to poison the
bridal dress of Creusa. In the Cheurbini opera it is Medea's children who give
the poisoned dress to Glauce. Herbert Weinstock, in a review of the stated performance
at Alice Tully Hall on December 2, 1969, stated that the work is "a much
more substantial, dramatic, and convincing as a musico-dramatic entity than
many other operas still often performed." I would have to state that this
recording certainly supports that opinion.
Leyla Gencer clearly outshines her competitors as
Medea. She floats her exquisite soft tones in her opening aria "Sommi dei,
che giuramenti," and makes a tour de force in the invocation of the
furies. The supporting cast, although not quite equal to the level of Gencer,
acquits itself well. William Johns, with the exception of a few forced and
flawed high notes, phrases well and modulates his tones in the bel canto style.
Cecilia Fusco's bright coloratura soprano is well suited to the role of Creusa,
and Gianfranco Pastini capably handles the foratura of the lyric tenor role of
Egeo. Maurizio Arena's feeling for the score is quite evident, and his
treatment is authoritative.
The sound is quite acceptable. The booklet contains
brief notes and a libretto in Italian only. There are no timings of the bands,
and the libretto causes problems in act I, scene 12. In the libretto with
translation in the Opera Rara set it is noted, "At this point the first
libretto prints a long passage—a quartet for Egeo, Medea, Creonte, and
Giasone—which we do not include since Mayr does not appear to have ever set
it." This booklet prints the quartet despite the fact that it does not exist.
On the cover page the name of the tenor Pastine is misspelled. There are eight
bonus tracks, which consist of Medea's principal arias and scenes recorded from
the March 13 performance, so Gencer fans have a double dose of her artistry,
although the sound on these tracks is not as good as the sound on the complete
performance.
The Opera Rara recording has to be the first choice.
Eaglen is a fine Medea, vocally more even than Gencer, though she lacks the
passion and fire that Gencer commands. Yvonne Kenney's Creusa is first-rate.
Although Bruce Ford's lyric tenor lacks the heft that William Johns's spinto
provides, he is able to handle the high notes that trouble Johns (both tenors
sing these high notes from the chest, a practice that did not exist in Mayr's
time). Raul Giménez outshines Pastine. Gencer fans should not hesitate, and
anyone interested in the development of the bel canto tradition should have a
recording of this opera.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Medea in Corinto by Giovanni Simone Mayr are surveyed in the following publications:
Celletti p.414; Giudici p.375
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Fanfare - Vol.23 No.4 March/April 2000 p.272 [BR]
American Record Guide - March/April 2000 Vol.63 No.2 p.147 [CHP]
CLASSICAL MUSIC
2002
Medea in
Corinto. Mayr's
1813 setting of the Medea legend in Medea in Corinto was once more popular than
Cherubini's version; it's the best of his extensive output. In a 1969 Clarion
Concerts recording, the excellent performance of Maria Galvany aided her rising
career (Vanguard LP, NA). Gencers a hair-raising, dramatic Medea in a 1977
performance at San Carlo (Myto 993.211, 3CD). Unhappily, her colleagues are
hair- raising for all the wrong reasons; they are truly terrible. A strong case
for the opera was made in 1993 by a most impressive cast (Opera Rara 11, 3CD).
Eaglen sings powerfully with great agility and control, easily en compassing
Medea's demanding music. Kenny's light soprano is an ideal contrast to
Eaglen's, and there's also contrast between Ford and Giménez, both tenors
assured and at ease in their coloratura endeavours. David Parry conducts a
controlled, idiomatic performance.
Monte Ivnor [Studio]
17.10.1957 MONTE IVNOR
Orchestra e Coro della RAI Milano
Armando La Rosa Parodi
Leyla Gencer (Edali); Renato Gavarini (Imar); Miriam Pirazzini (La
vecchia); Nestre Catalani (Tepurlov); Anselmo Colzani (Wladimiro Kirlatos);
Leonardo Montreale (Ileapo dei gendarmi / Maravid); Miriam Pirazzini (Naiké);
Salvatore de Tommasso (Droboj); Walter Brunelli (Ivanaj / Un operaio); Agusto
Pedroni (Danilo); Giorgio Alporta (Gregor Miroj); Jole de Maria (Kuttarin)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
MONTE IVNOR 1957
RADIOCORRIERE.TV
1957 October 13 - 19
MARIA RINALDI
MONTE IVNOR
un'opera di Lodovico Rocca
Dramma d'anime e di popolo, ispirato da un romanzo di Franz Werfel, fu rappresentato per la prima volta al Teatro dell'Opera di Roma nel 1939
Monte Ivnor, quarta opera di Lo dovico Rocca compositore di valore e attuale direttore del Conservatorio Giuseppe Verdi di Torinosi trova esattamente tra il dibak, che è del 1938, L'uragone, che è del 1932 If dramma musicale venne rappre sentato la prima volta al Teatro dell’Opera di Roma il 23 dicembre 1939, sotto la direzione di Tullio Serafin, ottenendo un successo caloroso, tan to che venne subito ripreso da altri teatri, anche dell'estero. La trama, stesa da Cesare Meano, fu ispirata al romanzo quaranta giorni del Musa Dagh di Franz Werfel: ma nel 1939 la cosa doveva essere igno rata a causa dell'origine ebraica del lo scrittore. Non solo, ma l'azione venne anticipata al secolo XIX e per la località venne preferito un paese montano sulle rive del Mar Caspio. Se qualche personaggio sof fre per forzato mutamento di tem po e di luogo, se qualche momento dell'azione perde di efficacia rispet to al lavoro originale, la colpa non può essere attribuita al Meano, ma alle assurde leggi di quell'epoca. 11 commediografo fu infatti costretto a mutare e a mascherare il romanto del Werfel, quasi non avesse avu to già sufficienti preoccupazioni con il solo trapasso dalla forma narra tiva a quella teatrale. Comunque è indubitato che il Meano riusel à tra sferire buona parte dello spirito ani matore e del clima eroico dell'episodio guerriero nel libretto per mu sica, tanto è vero che fu notate co me bagliori corali che si accen dono nei tre atti non mutano il tone dell'opera: accenti di speranza, esplo sioni mistiche, invocazioni che ri spondono agli accenti disperati di chi si trova in grave periglio. I dramma presenta infatti la popola zione di un piccolo paese alpestre sulla quale pesa, da parte di un ne mico invasore, una minaccia di bando. Popolani e maggiorenti stanno per rassegnarsi alla loro dura sorte, quando un signore del luogo, Via dimiro Kirlatos, propone di resistere al nemico, trincerandosi con le ar mi su di una montagna che sovra sta il paese, il Monte Ivnor. Tutto il popolo sale la montagna. Ma ecce che nel dramma del popolo viene ad inserirsi un dramma d'anime. Una donna, Edali, già promessa al gio vane Imar, si accende di segrete amore per il capo e apostolo del paese, Kirlatos 1 deluso Imar intuisee il pericolo di perdere l'amata accecato dalla gelosia, tradisce i proprio popola, pur di colpire il ri vale. Il tradimento di Imar apre al nemico la via per raggiungere punto vitale della resistenza. La di fesa disperata cui ricorre il piccolo paese non sembra che valga a sal varlo. Il nobile Kirlatós perde nella battaglia il fatto che adora. Mancano le munizioni, i viveri sono pres soche finiti, serpeggia la ribellione che si volge contro il generoso capo. Ma quando tutto sta per rovinare, ecco alcune navi apparire all'orie zonte. Se navi amiche ed è la salvezza. Ma il valoroso Kirlatos ri marrà sulla montagna. Nemmeno la fanciulla che, nell'ora tragica, gli al presenta per palesargli il suo amo re, riuscirà a rimuovere la sua de cisione. Anzi, con dolci parole di per dono, l'eroe affida la giovane svenuta al traditore pentito. Rimasto solo, Kirlatos potrebbe fuggire, ma non muove un passo. Una pattuglia ne mica gli va incontro. E colpito al petto e cade in terra, là dove cadde il figlio prediletto.
L'opera, pur presentando contra sti notevoli fra i maggiori perso naggi, ha un sao tipico sfondo eo rale dove Rocca palesa il meglio della sua personalità e della sua tec nlea musicale. Un'opera di azione e di alti sentimenti, dove è sempre salvo il fondamento drammatico e teatrale. Tutto questo conferma, e la critica lo ha rilevato, che Rocca non è soltanto un maestro del con trasto e del colore, ma un conosc tore del teatro, un artista dall'anime sensibile che sa raggiungere i neces sari equilibri. La sua umanità, prevalentemente dolorosa, lo guida ver so notevoli elevazioni; la sua anima, che conobbe più di un'amarezza. riesce a cantaré con naturalezza del cissime sinnenanne. Dalla serenità di quadri tanto mistici come la di scesa delle campane e il batte simo, Rocca passa con rilevante facilità ad episodi di eccezionale im portanza, come quelli dell'apparizio ne di Kirlatos e della morte del gio vane Danilo,
Nonostante in varietà degli epi sodi non manca un lo conduttore teso con indiscussa sapients: quello tessuto apertamente dal condottiero e segretamente da personaggi più oscuri come la vecchia Naike. In Monte Ionor i dramma sorge con evidente plasticità, tanto che di ogni personaggio e di ogni momento dell'azione si coglie infallibilmente il late realistico e quello a sfondo morale: intrecelo non facile a realiz zarsi, ma che era senza dubbio nel le segrete mire del compositore to rinese, Volendo è possibile penetra re un po plù addentro nella par titura, per rilevare come parola e musica formino una cosa sola, senza mai cadere in quel recitativo piatto e incalore che senza fallo conduce alla monotonia, Giustamente qualcu no ha rilevato che nella partitura esistono punti salienti, nei quali la musica s'individua in modo palese, come se azione e suono fossero sorti In un sol tempo. E questa crediamo sia la miglior lode che possa rivol gersi a un musicista del secolo XX.
un'opera di Lodovico Rocca
Dramma d'anime e di popolo, ispirato da un romanzo di Franz Werfel, fu rappresentato per la prima volta al Teatro dell'Opera di Roma nel 1939
Monte Ivnor, quarta opera di Lo dovico Rocca compositore di valore e attuale direttore del Conservatorio Giuseppe Verdi di Torinosi trova esattamente tra il dibak, che è del 1938, L'uragone, che è del 1932 If dramma musicale venne rappre sentato la prima volta al Teatro dell’Opera di Roma il 23 dicembre 1939, sotto la direzione di Tullio Serafin, ottenendo un successo caloroso, tan to che venne subito ripreso da altri teatri, anche dell'estero. La trama, stesa da Cesare Meano, fu ispirata al romanzo quaranta giorni del Musa Dagh di Franz Werfel: ma nel 1939 la cosa doveva essere igno rata a causa dell'origine ebraica del lo scrittore. Non solo, ma l'azione venne anticipata al secolo XIX e per la località venne preferito un paese montano sulle rive del Mar Caspio. Se qualche personaggio sof fre per forzato mutamento di tem po e di luogo, se qualche momento dell'azione perde di efficacia rispet to al lavoro originale, la colpa non può essere attribuita al Meano, ma alle assurde leggi di quell'epoca. 11 commediografo fu infatti costretto a mutare e a mascherare il romanto del Werfel, quasi non avesse avu to già sufficienti preoccupazioni con il solo trapasso dalla forma narra tiva a quella teatrale. Comunque è indubitato che il Meano riusel à tra sferire buona parte dello spirito ani matore e del clima eroico dell'episodio guerriero nel libretto per mu sica, tanto è vero che fu notate co me bagliori corali che si accen dono nei tre atti non mutano il tone dell'opera: accenti di speranza, esplo sioni mistiche, invocazioni che ri spondono agli accenti disperati di chi si trova in grave periglio. I dramma presenta infatti la popola zione di un piccolo paese alpestre sulla quale pesa, da parte di un ne mico invasore, una minaccia di bando. Popolani e maggiorenti stanno per rassegnarsi alla loro dura sorte, quando un signore del luogo, Via dimiro Kirlatos, propone di resistere al nemico, trincerandosi con le ar mi su di una montagna che sovra sta il paese, il Monte Ivnor. Tutto il popolo sale la montagna. Ma ecce che nel dramma del popolo viene ad inserirsi un dramma d'anime. Una donna, Edali, già promessa al gio vane Imar, si accende di segrete amore per il capo e apostolo del paese, Kirlatos 1 deluso Imar intuisee il pericolo di perdere l'amata accecato dalla gelosia, tradisce i proprio popola, pur di colpire il ri vale. Il tradimento di Imar apre al nemico la via per raggiungere punto vitale della resistenza. La di fesa disperata cui ricorre il piccolo paese non sembra che valga a sal varlo. Il nobile Kirlatós perde nella battaglia il fatto che adora. Mancano le munizioni, i viveri sono pres soche finiti, serpeggia la ribellione che si volge contro il generoso capo. Ma quando tutto sta per rovinare, ecco alcune navi apparire all'orie zonte. Se navi amiche ed è la salvezza. Ma il valoroso Kirlatos ri marrà sulla montagna. Nemmeno la fanciulla che, nell'ora tragica, gli al presenta per palesargli il suo amo re, riuscirà a rimuovere la sua de cisione. Anzi, con dolci parole di per dono, l'eroe affida la giovane svenuta al traditore pentito. Rimasto solo, Kirlatos potrebbe fuggire, ma non muove un passo. Una pattuglia ne mica gli va incontro. E colpito al petto e cade in terra, là dove cadde il figlio prediletto.
L'opera, pur presentando contra sti notevoli fra i maggiori perso naggi, ha un sao tipico sfondo eo rale dove Rocca palesa il meglio della sua personalità e della sua tec nlea musicale. Un'opera di azione e di alti sentimenti, dove è sempre salvo il fondamento drammatico e teatrale. Tutto questo conferma, e la critica lo ha rilevato, che Rocca non è soltanto un maestro del con trasto e del colore, ma un conosc tore del teatro, un artista dall'anime sensibile che sa raggiungere i neces sari equilibri. La sua umanità, prevalentemente dolorosa, lo guida ver so notevoli elevazioni; la sua anima, che conobbe più di un'amarezza. riesce a cantaré con naturalezza del cissime sinnenanne. Dalla serenità di quadri tanto mistici come la di scesa delle campane e il batte simo, Rocca passa con rilevante facilità ad episodi di eccezionale im portanza, come quelli dell'apparizio ne di Kirlatos e della morte del gio vane Danilo,
Nonostante in varietà degli epi sodi non manca un lo conduttore teso con indiscussa sapients: quello tessuto apertamente dal condottiero e segretamente da personaggi più oscuri come la vecchia Naike. In Monte Ionor i dramma sorge con evidente plasticità, tanto che di ogni personaggio e di ogni momento dell'azione si coglie infallibilmente il late realistico e quello a sfondo morale: intrecelo non facile a realiz zarsi, ma che era senza dubbio nel le segrete mire del compositore to rinese, Volendo è possibile penetra re un po plù addentro nella par titura, per rilevare come parola e musica formino una cosa sola, senza mai cadere in quel recitativo piatto e incalore che senza fallo conduce alla monotonia, Giustamente qualcu no ha rilevato che nella partitura esistono punti salienti, nei quali la musica s'individua in modo palese, come se azione e suono fossero sorti In un sol tempo. E questa crediamo sia la miglior lode che possa rivol gersi a un musicista del secolo XX.
Foto: Leyla Gencer a colloquio con un vigile a Milano, in piazza della Scala. Il soprane turco, protagonista dell'opera di Lodovico Rocca. Interpreta il personaggio di Edali.
THE LISTENER
1958.11.20
DYNELEY
HUSSEY
MUSIC
Displaced Persons
THE TRAGEDY of the wholesale removal of populations from their established homes is no new one, though it has become more conspicuous during the past two decades. The danger of taking as a subject for a work of art such a topical theme, which is bound to arouse sympathy in all decent-minded people, is that the artist will not be able to transmute the raw material of reality into the more abiding substance of art. We can see what happens if this transmutation does not take place, in Menotti's The Consul, a 'slice of life' served up with an absolute minimum of worth-while music.
Lodovico Rocca, whose Monte Ivnòr, broadcast last week,. proved to be one of the B.B.C. Opera Department's best discoveries among unfamiliar works, does not fall into that error. The action, which might have taken place in some village of the Süd Tirol sub consule Mussolini, is removed to some vaguely specified locality in Asian Russia in the last century. Even so, performances of the opera were stopped by the Italian authorities soon after its production in 1939. It cut too near the bone.
As a music-drama Monte Ivnòr is a first-rate I piece of work. It is about real people, in whose actions one can believe, and not about the cardboard figures of Puccinian melodrama. Musically Rocca owes a good deal to Puccini. His melody in passionate scenes tends to rise and fall in an arc, the descent being given urgency by the introduction of a triplet. It is a type that derives through Puccini from Verdi, and in this respect, Rocca cannot be called an original or even a very distinguished creator of vocal melody.
Structurally his opera has a continuity derived, perhaps, from Mussorgsky, though there are precedents nearer home in Puccini's Girl of the Golden West which (whatever its gross faults) is more completely durchkomponiert than his earlier operas, and in the operas of Pizzetti. But the Mussorgskian influence is there, not only in the prominence given to the chorus, the ordinary citizens of the martyred village, but also in certain of the melodies, notably that of Kirlatos's lament for his son. This intensely moving scene has the bare simplicity of the Idiot's song in Boris.
There were no famous names in the cast; the only singer I can remember having heard was Miriam Pirazzini, an admirable contralto who gave a beautiful performance in the part of an old woman. If there were no outstanding voices, all the singing was both musicianly and dramatic. Anselmo Colzani as Kirlatos, the leader of the forlorn hope, sang his music with authority and with deep feeling, so that we could believe in his powers of leadership and in the depth of his suffering. As Edali, the woman who loves him and is rejected by the lonely man, Leyla Gencer gave just the right touch of visionary faith to her performance. It is one of the virtues of the opera that its end is as honest as the rest. When the people who have turned against him are saved, Kirlatos stays behind and is killed, but Edali, rejected, does not stay with him to share his fate in the conventional love-and-death duet.
The performance, recorded in Italy under the direction of Armando La Rosa Parodi, seemed excellent. More use might, perhaps, have been made of radio-technique, as was done in Louis de Meester's Tentation de Saint-Antoine, to bring out clearly the frequent passages of dialogue set against a choral background. The chorus, by the way, often resorts to speaking and shouting without regard to the music-this surely an abdication of his responsibilities by the composer who should create the impression of hubbub by musical means.
Displaced Persons
THE TRAGEDY of the wholesale removal of populations from their established homes is no new one, though it has become more conspicuous during the past two decades. The danger of taking as a subject for a work of art such a topical theme, which is bound to arouse sympathy in all decent-minded people, is that the artist will not be able to transmute the raw material of reality into the more abiding substance of art. We can see what happens if this transmutation does not take place, in Menotti's The Consul, a 'slice of life' served up with an absolute minimum of worth-while music.
Lodovico Rocca, whose Monte Ivnòr, broadcast last week,. proved to be one of the B.B.C. Opera Department's best discoveries among unfamiliar works, does not fall into that error. The action, which might have taken place in some village of the Süd Tirol sub consule Mussolini, is removed to some vaguely specified locality in Asian Russia in the last century. Even so, performances of the opera were stopped by the Italian authorities soon after its production in 1939. It cut too near the bone.
As a music-drama Monte Ivnòr is a first-rate I piece of work. It is about real people, in whose actions one can believe, and not about the cardboard figures of Puccinian melodrama. Musically Rocca owes a good deal to Puccini. His melody in passionate scenes tends to rise and fall in an arc, the descent being given urgency by the introduction of a triplet. It is a type that derives through Puccini from Verdi, and in this respect, Rocca cannot be called an original or even a very distinguished creator of vocal melody.
Structurally his opera has a continuity derived, perhaps, from Mussorgsky, though there are precedents nearer home in Puccini's Girl of the Golden West which (whatever its gross faults) is more completely durchkomponiert than his earlier operas, and in the operas of Pizzetti. But the Mussorgskian influence is there, not only in the prominence given to the chorus, the ordinary citizens of the martyred village, but also in certain of the melodies, notably that of Kirlatos's lament for his son. This intensely moving scene has the bare simplicity of the Idiot's song in Boris.
There were no famous names in the cast; the only singer I can remember having heard was Miriam Pirazzini, an admirable contralto who gave a beautiful performance in the part of an old woman. If there were no outstanding voices, all the singing was both musicianly and dramatic. Anselmo Colzani as Kirlatos, the leader of the forlorn hope, sang his music with authority and with deep feeling, so that we could believe in his powers of leadership and in the depth of his suffering. As Edali, the woman who loves him and is rejected by the lonely man, Leyla Gencer gave just the right touch of visionary faith to her performance. It is one of the virtues of the opera that its end is as honest as the rest. When the people who have turned against him are saved, Kirlatos stays behind and is killed, but Edali, rejected, does not stay with him to share his fate in the conventional love-and-death duet.
The performance, recorded in Italy under the direction of Armando La Rosa Parodi, seemed excellent. More use might, perhaps, have been made of radio-technique, as was done in Louis de Meester's Tentation de Saint-Antoine, to bring out clearly the frequent passages of dialogue set against a choral background. The chorus, by the way, often resorts to speaking and shouting without regard to the music-this surely an abdication of his responsibilities by the composer who should create the impression of hubbub by musical means.
RADIOCORRIERE.TV
1959 June 28 - July 04
ALFREDO
CUCCHIARA
CON LEYLA
GENCER E ANSELMO COLZANI
«MONTE IVNOR»
di Rocca
Lodovico Rocca
è nato a Torino nel 1895. Appartiene, dunque, a quella generazione di musicisti
cresciuta nel clima febbrile del più rivoluzionario rinnovamento formale e
stilistico, delle più disparate esperienze nella ricerca di un proprio
linguaggio che insieme han no condizionato e sconvolto il gusto e il costume
artistico contemporaneo.
Aperto alle
nuove voci della musica, ma intimamente estraneo ad ogni precostituito programma
estetico, Lodovico Rocca fedele alle ha saputo rimanere proprie vocazioni,
azioni, alla propria natura riflessiva e siva e pensosa, soffusa di dolente
pessimismo. Autore di una folta serie di composizioni sinfoniche e da camera
alcune delle quali, come Schizzi francescani e Salmodia, scritte per i Festival
internazionali di Venezia, si affermò nel teatro nel 1933 con Dibuk, autentica
rivela zione fra le 180 opere presentate al Concorso indetto dalla Scala.
Monte Ivnor,
rappresentata al Teatro dell'Opera di Roma nel 1939, è la sua seconda opera importante
e fortunata, Come nel Dibuk ritroviamo anche qui - pregnanti motivi centrali
gusto dell'Oriente e l'idea dominante della morte; e quei toni ora casti ed
elegiaci, ora ironici c caricaturali che improntano le sue musiche migliori. Ma
è soprattutto nella drammatica vocalità corale e nella espressiva duttilità del
tessuto sinfonico che il musicista torinese då, ancora una volta, la misura più
originale del suo temperamento operistico. Per Monte Ivnor, che al suo sorgere
dovette superare non pochi ostacoli di natura politica e razziale, il
compositore trovò in Cesare Meano il librettista congeniale. Il dramma si
ispira al celebre Tomanzo di Franz Werfel I quaranta giorni del Musa Dagh.
Siamo sulle
rive del Mar Caspio, verso la fine del secolo scorso. Sugli inermi abitanti di
un paesino alpestre pesa, da parte del nemico invasore, un'aperta minaccia di
bando. Popolani e maggiorenti sono quasi rassegnati al loro tragico destino,
quando un signore del luogo, Vladimiro Kirlatos, un uomo maturo che ha
viaggiato e conosciuto il mondo, si leva a rincuorarli e a trado, st scinarli
sul Monte Ivnor, l'im pervia montagna che domina il villaggio. Ma prima, in
obbedien za ad un'antica tradizione, il pa triota ha staccato le campane della
chiesa che il popolo in mesta processione porta al cimitero dove resteranno
sepolte fino al giorno della vittoria.
Sul monte,
trasformato in fortezza, la la vita del paese riprende, avvicendando i i suoi
pacifici episodi alle azioni di guerra contro il nemico. Ma ecco nel dramma del
popolo inserirsi un dramma d'anime. La bella Edali, già fi danzata al giovane
Imar, si accende di segreto amore per il Kirlatos. capo della resistenza, Imar
intuisce, e accecato dalla gelosia, pur di colpire il rivale, al nemico la via
per raggiungere il centro della fortezza. La disperata resistenza del popolo
riesce a contenere l'urto del nemico, ma nella battaglia il nobile Kirlatos
perde il figlio che adora. Intanto le munizioni sono finite, quasi esauriti i
viveri; e già fra il popolo stremato comincia a serpeggiare il veleno dello
scoraggiamento e della ribellione quand'ecco la salvezza: rombo di cannone
annuncia l'arrivo delle navi amiche. Il popolo di Monte Ivnor tumultuando di
gioia scende, verso il mare, in contro alla vita. Soltanto Kirlatos rimane
sulla montagna del suo sogno e del suo sacrificio con la memoria del figlio
perduto, sordo alle voci d'amore della piccola Edali che ora affida, svenuta,
al traditore pentito Imar, Una pattuglia nemica gli viene incontro e l'eroe
l'affronta, cadendo colpito a morte sulla terra che custodisce il corpo del
figlio diletto.
In Monte Ivnor
Guido Pannain dopo la prima esecuzione romana sono accentuate le qualità di cui
Rocca aveva dato prova con il Dibuk. Gli è accaduta una cosa molto semplice, ma
estremamente difficile: di poter trovare un suo modo personale di ottenere il
dramma in musica, liberandosi da schiavitù e debolezze. Dire che egli segua
l'azione da vicino è poco: egli la investe addirittura con la sua musica. Ne fa
una cosa di suoni; se ne appropria e ne è dominato. Urti di passioni, sacrifici
e dolori, la gioia di una nascita, come la morte del giovi netto eroe, figlio
di Kirlatos, costituiscono come le vertebre del dramma che si svolge con ininterrotto
interesse, in sicurezza e unità stilistica, serrato, vibran te, emotivo».
OPERADIS
This recording is reviewed in the following
publications:
Orpheus - März +
April 2008 S.57 [KC]
Classic Record Collector - Winter 2007 pp.96-97 [JTH]
Comments: According to the EJS discography (p.384) this recording was made on 16 March 1957 and broadcast on 17 October 1957 by RAI Torino. However, it is listed as a production of RAI Milano in «50 anni di opera lirica alla RAI 1931-1980» (p.147)
Norma [Live]
18.07.1964 NORMA
Orquesta y Coro Estables del Teatro Colon, Buenos Aires
Bruno Bartoletti
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Adriana Lazzarini (Adalgisa); Bruno Prevedi
(Pollione); William Wildermann (Oroveso); Sofia Schultz (Clotilde); Italo Tajo
(Flavioa)
House of Opera – 2 CDs
NORMA 1964
Casta Diva Act I Scene IV
Fine al rito Act I Scene IV
Oh, Rimembranza! Act I Scene VIII
Il mira... Ei! Pollion!... Va parte qui.. Act I Scene IX
Dormono entrambi... Teneri figli... Act II Scene I
Mi chiami, o Norma... Mira o Norma Act II Scene III
Ei, tornera... Act II Scene VI
In mia man alfin tu sei... Act II Scene X
Qual cor tradisti Act II Scene XI & Finale
All'ira vostra... Deh! Non voleri vittime Act II Scene XI & Finale
FANFARE MAGAZINE
MARCK MANDEL
Verdi Ernani. • Manno
Wolf-Ferrari, conductor; Leyla Gencer, soprano (Elvira); Gianfranco Checchele,
tenor (Ernani); Giuseppe Taddei, baritone (Carlo); Ruggero Raimondi, bass
(Silva); Orchestra, ABAO Chorus of Bilbao; Bruno
Bellini Norma: Oh
rimembranza; Deh, con te lie prendi... Mira, o Norma.
Bartoletti, cond; Leyla Gencer, soprano (Norma);
Adriana Lazzarini, mezzo-soprano (Adalgisa); Orchestra of the Teatro Colon,
Buenos Aires. • Giuseppe di Stefano Records GDS 21031 [AAD]; two discs: 66:55, 58:47.
(Distributed by Qualiton.) Live performance:
Oviedo Festival; September 3, 1968 1. Live performance: July 12, 1964
2.
I expounded at some length about Ernani—the opera and
various recordings—in the very last issue; this new release from Giuseppe Di
Stefano follows hard upon. The Turkish soprano Leyla Gencer—a stimulating,
quirky, unpredictable artist—and stalwart Italian baritone Giuseppe Taddei are
the drawing-cards here; unfortunately, in neither case were my hopes fulfilled.
Gencer's opening scene isn't entirely comfortable—there's a certain amount of
under pitch singing in the aria, and the fioritura at the end is pushed and
rhythmically insecure. The cabaletta is better, despite some ill-tuned high
notes and guttural scooping (a trademark effect that figures prominently also
in act IV). Better still, in her duet with Carlo, she makes telling use of
chest voice (another signature), and of the dotted rhythms so prominent
throughout Verdi's score. But in act II her timbre turns markedly sour during
her duet with Ernani (she and Checchele are both out of tune by the time it's
over), and she later comes to grief in act III (at “Ah! signor, se t'è
concesso”), where, scrambling to stay in place and seemingly short of breath,
she misses her re-entrance after Carlo's interjection and ends up vocalizing
wordlessly until her last few syllables. In act IV she caps the final trio with
an interpolated, dead-on high D, to the clear delight of the audience, but to
no musical or dramatic purpose whatsoever. In sum, a performance of interest
only to Gencer devotees. (Attention, newcomers: Robert Levine [Fanfare]
provides thoughtful comments about this soprano in Fanfare 12:2,
November/December 1988, in his reviews of four Donizetti portrayals on Hunt.)
Taddei offers a generalized Carlo, displaying a high degree of rhythmic
imprecision, a monochromatic “Oh de' verd'anni miei” and an ineffective “O
sommo Carlo” Tenor Checchele can sing tolerably but lacks dramatic presence and
vocal staying power; his intonation ultimately goes away, especially when he
tries to moderate his volume, and his death scene makes no effect whatsoever.
(Some sort of buzzer goes off between his final cries of Elvira's name; his
time is obviously up.) Aside from a misplaced entrance at one point in act II,
Raimondi provides a solidly sung Silva, but since he sounds younger than
Taddei, the dramatic balance isn't convincing. The erratic conducting is marked
by a singular lack of coordination between stage and pit; the orchestral
playing is sloppy, the chorus terrible; numerous standard cuts are taken
(including Suva's cabaletta); and the audience often seems unsure of whether or
not to applaud. The sound is harsh; the overall perspective, plus fluctuations
in pitch and volume, bear witness to a hand-held tape recorder; a few measures
of music are lost here and there (including the opening drumroll). There are
seventeen cueing points on the first disc and twelve on the second, with the
break between acts II and III. An Italian-only libretto is provided, plus
pictures of Gencer, Taddei, and, in living color as usual, Mr. Di Stefano. The
Norma duets, from a 1964 broadcast, are well sung, but don't leave much of an
impression beyond that.
My first-choice Ernani remains the 1956
Mitropoulos-led Met broadcast, with Milanov, del Monaco, Warren, and Siepi,
which made just as strong an impression on my recently acquired Foyer CDs as it
did on borrowed Foyer LPs the last time 'round. Once past a weak first act,
Muti's Scala performance on EMI, with Domingo, Freni, Bruson, and Ghiaurov, is
an otherwise good bet in digital sound.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Norma by Vincenzo Bellini are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera January 1958 p.12; Opera on Record p.154; Celletti p.50; Opera on CD (1) p.40 (2) p.46 (3) p.51; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.29 p.106: No.236 p.76; MET p.21; MET (VID) p.10; Penguin p.10; Orpheus No.13 1994 Festival p.22; Giudici p.31 (2) p.57; Diapason No.439 juillet-aoüt 1997 p.48; Répertoire No.112 avril 1998 p.86; Opéra International juin 2000 No.247 pp.66-70; Donizetti Society Newsletter June 2000 pp.21-23; American Record Guide September/October 2000 Vol.63 No.5 pp.73-83; Gramophone January 2002 p.28; Classica Répertoire No.94 juillet-aoüt 2007 p.66
THE ASSOLUTA VOICE IN OPERA
2003
……. of sad
contemplation that climaxes in a decrescendo at "dimenticar." Her
threat that Adalgisa must be burned, even her impeccable trills at Adalgisa's
name, are given an incongruous delivery. "Indegno," though, is more
compelling as she infuses this with a dangerous smile at being too late.
Unfortunately, "è tardi" is less effective, since it lies too low for
her. She seems almost to italicize "ti" in "ti vo' ferire."
There is no carry-through in what seems another sad reading, this time for
"Già mi pasco," followed by a withdrawn "farti alfin." The
ending of this duet is spectacular as Sutherland opts for a surging top note
before rejoining John Alexander. Nothing is particularly inexpressive in her
change of heart at "Son io" and her determination to end her life. It
simply lacks individuality and does not deliver the play of light and shade
desired. Amazingly beautiful, however. She returns to an interpretive stance
marked by regret in "Qual cor tradisti." We would expect the flourish
at "Un prego ancor" to be handled nicely, and it is, and there is an
authentic surge of urgency to her final poignant plea, particularly when she
reaches the words "di lor pietà." Sutherland concludes with some
tasteful embellishments as she repeats her final words to her father.
Certain aspects of Sutherland's Norma come out crisper and more nuanced in a later recording made also for Decca/London with, for once, an authentically soprano Adalgisa in Montserrat Caballé. Luciano Pavarotti sings Pollione, Samuel Ramey an impeccably bel canto Oroveso, and, as usual, Richard Bonynge conducts. Bonynge's way with the score in this later recording is more imbued with a sense of theatre, but, despite the greater variety in his approach, Sutherland's easy and honest delivery of every note exactly as Bellini wrote it is best heard in the earlier set of 1964.
A strong contrast is provided in Leyla Gencer's Norma with a more profound reading of the title role, but with frequent vocal compromises. Even the earliest and freshest souvenir of Gencer's Norma, in 1965 at La Scala, already has the glottal attacks that were to become ubiquitous, but one can be thankful that the instrument itself retains most of its vibrancy and color. In fact, its amazing capacity to weather the most continual abuse heartens us, despite the paradox that lies in such keen musical insights being projected in such an unmusical way. This "live" performance is another case of a reading that has been available on one or two different labels, including Melodram, but where each issue has been of typically limited distribution. Gencer's La Scala colleagues include Bruno Prevedi as Pollione, Giulietta Simionato repeating her Adalgisa of 1955 and Nicola Zaccaria his Oroveso. Gianandrea Gavazzeni conducts.
Gencer is strongly disapproving in her opening "Sediziose voci," though the glottal attacks undermine her authority to a degree. The instrument's continued strength is reflected in an effective low B, emphatic and sure on "morrà," and in her still beautiful pianissimo, heard here on a haunting "mieto," heralding an equivocal "Casta Diva." The opening phrases are unsteady, and there is a laboured turn on "queste." One is grateful for a properly smoky "vel" and rhythmically alert passagework leading into "Tempra, o Diva." As is too often the case, the syncopation is merely repeated in place of Bellini's original crescendo. But the second statement is enhanced by an evocative turn on "regnar tu fai" done piano, even though the piano on the final "ciel" loses focus. In the materia di mezzo, we have a reasonably assured diminuendo on "cor" of "il cor non sa," however stark the effect seems without the familiar chain of upward turns on "sa." There are no untoward slips in the passagework of "Ah! bello a me ritorna," but it's not ideally fluent. One has to admire, though, a nakedly defiant inflection on "il mondo intero." Gencer drops off for a few phrases to deliver the climactic top note.
Gencer is inspired in conveying her conflicting feelings over the children in the next scene, a special urgency in "Soffro in vederli," and in her electrifying intimation of Pollione's leaving her, the low B flat at "dubbio." Then, in her initial exchange with Adalgisa, there is a residue of haughtiness, with an effective softening at "rimembranza" and at "Così trovava," which becomes a single long phrase, capped by a lovely piano on "trovava." However, in "Ah! tergi il pianto," the top note is unsteady, while the long diminuendo on "Ah sì" starts weakly, only becoming steadier as it softens. One must admire the neat passagework in "Ah sì, fa' core" and a good climactic high C, even though there is an ungainly transit to the low at the conclusion of the downward scale. The score is followed at the end of the duet with no interruption for applause, thus generating a fine dramatic momentum for Norma's shock at recognizing that Adalgisa is Pollione's beloved. This registers strongly in a deeply astounded "Ei," compromised a moment later by her anticipating a beat on "Ben io compresi?" In addressing Pollione directly, Gencer is at first deeply hurt for "e per chi," then aflame with fury for the "Oh non tremare," where there are some pitch problems, especially at the crucial "figli tuoi." She rattles fearsomely through some of the passage work and still displays a good high C, but she runs short of breath whenever going down the scale toward "fellon," losing... "lon" both times. Her anguished rage is surprisingly undifferentiated in "Oh di qual sei tu vittima," and even in the materia di mezzo there isn't much holding back for "Lo compi." "Vanne, sì" has just as much fury, and one "indegno" is even spoken! She climaxes the scene with a strong high D. It is clear in this scene that the voice itself is in fine shape. One could only wish she showed a keener discipline in the bel canto passages and in a more carefully calibrated rage, however heartfelt her involvement in Norma's anguish.
Norma's emotional trials in the opening scene of Act II are made vivid enough in Gencer's interpretation. But with all the intrinsic strength of her vocal resources, signs of sloughing off accumulate, perhaps due to fatigue. The dramatic engagement remains as compelling as ever. No attempt is made to accommodate an awkward register break across "supplizio assai," and "si solleva il crin" seems poorly supported. There is a horrifying rasp on "uccido," and in the "Teneri figli" solo, the "Delizia mia" starts unsteadily, becoming better as it softens toward the end. When Norma abruptly cuts off the wistful strains of "Teneri figli" on "E io li svenerò," Gencer again fails to sustain a level tone, and "morti" turns gravelly. Perhaps this reflects dramatic expression, but if that was what was intended, it is not clear enough. There is so much dramatic insight of another sort in the anguish that Gencer projects here that the vocal mishaps come off as accidental and distracting. They don't seem integrated with her vocal projection of character. She is certainly effective in her quick "Feriam," followed by a hair-raising fermata on a prolonged and utterly secure "Ah! no" giving the lie to any suspicion of vocal trouble. So it seems to be inattention that is at fault. Still, the registers continue unmalleable in her initial exchange with Adalgisa. One can salute a convincing cry of anguish for "gli perdono, e moro" and a lovely piano on "Pei figli suoi." In "Deh! con te," "serbati" is given a richly expressive portamento, "abbandonati" gets a diminuendo, and while there are aspirates in the closing phrases, the high C is attacked and sustained perfectly. Gencer seems to be gasping in sorrow for her "Ah! perchè" in response to Adalgisa's "Mira o Norma" while some tones seem unintentionally constricted to no apparent purpose. Dramatic purpose there is, however, once she accedes to Adalgisa's plea in the materia di mezzo. Her "Hai vinto" vividly conveys the point of no return and becomes the epitome of a new hope. Unfortunately, both Gencer and the usually spirited Simionato fail to capitalize on this and do not deliver the ascending staccati in the cabaletta crisply. These are not really staccati at all, and this lack makes much of the concluding insieme limp.
In Gencer's final scene, the high C in the opening flourish of hope is also compromised, attacked flat and not successfully sustained. Typically, the high C suddenly becomes fine in her call for vengeance, and her "Sterminio" is properly awesome as well, but the gravelly problems return as she confirms that it's war, once and for all. It's surprising that, once Pollione is caught, there is no attempt to make "Son vendicata adesso" an aside, and her "Sì, Norma" is also an entirely public pronouncement. There is a desperate urgency both to her astonishment at not having the heart to slay Pollione on the spot and to her hasty announcement to the multitude. Then, at the opening of Norma and Pollione's fateful duet, the unsteadiness returns, together with some aspirates. Her "Giura" is partly spoken, but this is effective in context, redeemed, in addition, by her sorrowful treatment of the confession of having nearly killed the children. This is one of the most compelling moments of Gencer's final scene. It is complemented by the admirable drive of her "Solo! Tutti/I Romani," culminating in a sure reading of its headlong passagework and a blazing "perirà." Then, we are thrown back to parlando for "è tardi," and she misjudges her breath in the "Già mi pasco." Gencer and Prevedi plunge immediately into the transitional sequence following the duet without waiting for applause. Here, we have one of Gencer's most telling inflections: her aside, "Io rea, L'innocente accusar del fallo mio?" is a brilliant moment of alarmed self-awareness, intimate in its delivery.
The key moment of Gencer's "Son io" has too marked a portamento, but a good diminuendo on "i" of "io," offset by a clumsy release. The effect of Norma's sacrifice is better heightened by Gencer's more elegant portamento on... "ge" ... of "ergete." The "Qual cor tradisti" is enhanced by fine decrescendo at the end of the first three phrases but culminates in a slightly scooped final note, which only reaches true pitch when it becomes piano. What a pity that "Romano" goes flat and the word "con" founders on a nasty register break. In the final materia di mezzo, Gencer's "Oltre ogni umana idea" is an entirely public proclamation, while her "Son madre" is a hasty, muted admission for her father alone. The poignant flourish on "Un prego ancor" is attacked full voice and only becomes piano on the bridge note immediately before... "go" of "prego." This is followed by a wrenching sob. The closing "Deh! non volerli" comes out as a devastating wail, with a choppy line at "abbi di lor pietà." This is a troubled reading by a singer with great insight, a fine instrument, but unsure technical control.
In assessing the next recorded interpretation, featuring Elena Souliotis, it has proved impossible to avoid a personal approach. For one thing, the critical brickbats thrown its way are startling: "much that is simply below standard"; "She [hasn't] the delicacy"... "a lack of variety, and insistence-which some- times amounts to vulgarity-on making effects by power rather than subtlety"," "the sort of release that can ruin a record company's reputation"... "the opera is massacred"... "It would be tedious to list [all Varviso's cuts]" ... "imitation Callas without the genius" ... "seems stiff and amateurish" ... "mezzo-like sound thins out drastically in the upper register."
However, this Decca/London 1967 recording does not seem as uniformly awful as this reviewer had been led to expect. The cuts may be severe, but that doesn't necessarily make the performance worthless. Since both Souliotis and Anita Cerquetti were mainstays of the Decca/London catalogue and had similarly abbreviated careers, the tendency has been to pair them together as some- how comparable. I would submit that Souliotis may have been the more imaginative artist, however superior Cerquetti's basic instrument. Souliotis has clearly "connected" with Bellini's music. There is an affecting directness to much of her singing, and the voice is capable of sounding plangent and well-focused. I, for one, feel convinced by her reading. She offers a richer and more steady sound here than in her Anna Bolena. Interpretively, she doesn't match the subtlety of someone like Callas, particularly in the Margherita Wallmann broadcast of 1955. But then, who does? Souliotis still gives a vivid enough reading to transform the listener into a spectator - and there are some musical felicities as well. It's a rare musician who, in the frenzy of the "Vanne, sì" at the conclusion of the first act, can soften the "Figli oblia, promesse, onore" just enough to convey the nostalgia of what Pollione and Norma once had. This is imagination and alert technical delivery combined. Granted, Souliotis has no trill, but, after all, neither do some others. She occasionally exaggerates the contrasts already built into Bellini's own score, threatening "To gilde refined Gold, to paint the Lilly." She doesn't sound as opulent as a Milanov or a Sutherland-let alone a Cerquetti. But few do. Souliotis offers a creditable assumption, not merely better than her Bolena vocally, but a thoughtful, musical reading with individual touches that linger in the memory long after. Such insights suggest a stylistic acuity of a high order. She is not "stiff and amateurish"! Mario Del Monaco repeats his Pollione …..
Certain aspects of Sutherland's Norma come out crisper and more nuanced in a later recording made also for Decca/London with, for once, an authentically soprano Adalgisa in Montserrat Caballé. Luciano Pavarotti sings Pollione, Samuel Ramey an impeccably bel canto Oroveso, and, as usual, Richard Bonynge conducts. Bonynge's way with the score in this later recording is more imbued with a sense of theatre, but, despite the greater variety in his approach, Sutherland's easy and honest delivery of every note exactly as Bellini wrote it is best heard in the earlier set of 1964.
A strong contrast is provided in Leyla Gencer's Norma with a more profound reading of the title role, but with frequent vocal compromises. Even the earliest and freshest souvenir of Gencer's Norma, in 1965 at La Scala, already has the glottal attacks that were to become ubiquitous, but one can be thankful that the instrument itself retains most of its vibrancy and color. In fact, its amazing capacity to weather the most continual abuse heartens us, despite the paradox that lies in such keen musical insights being projected in such an unmusical way. This "live" performance is another case of a reading that has been available on one or two different labels, including Melodram, but where each issue has been of typically limited distribution. Gencer's La Scala colleagues include Bruno Prevedi as Pollione, Giulietta Simionato repeating her Adalgisa of 1955 and Nicola Zaccaria his Oroveso. Gianandrea Gavazzeni conducts.
Gencer is strongly disapproving in her opening "Sediziose voci," though the glottal attacks undermine her authority to a degree. The instrument's continued strength is reflected in an effective low B, emphatic and sure on "morrà," and in her still beautiful pianissimo, heard here on a haunting "mieto," heralding an equivocal "Casta Diva." The opening phrases are unsteady, and there is a laboured turn on "queste." One is grateful for a properly smoky "vel" and rhythmically alert passagework leading into "Tempra, o Diva." As is too often the case, the syncopation is merely repeated in place of Bellini's original crescendo. But the second statement is enhanced by an evocative turn on "regnar tu fai" done piano, even though the piano on the final "ciel" loses focus. In the materia di mezzo, we have a reasonably assured diminuendo on "cor" of "il cor non sa," however stark the effect seems without the familiar chain of upward turns on "sa." There are no untoward slips in the passagework of "Ah! bello a me ritorna," but it's not ideally fluent. One has to admire, though, a nakedly defiant inflection on "il mondo intero." Gencer drops off for a few phrases to deliver the climactic top note.
Gencer is inspired in conveying her conflicting feelings over the children in the next scene, a special urgency in "Soffro in vederli," and in her electrifying intimation of Pollione's leaving her, the low B flat at "dubbio." Then, in her initial exchange with Adalgisa, there is a residue of haughtiness, with an effective softening at "rimembranza" and at "Così trovava," which becomes a single long phrase, capped by a lovely piano on "trovava." However, in "Ah! tergi il pianto," the top note is unsteady, while the long diminuendo on "Ah sì" starts weakly, only becoming steadier as it softens. One must admire the neat passagework in "Ah sì, fa' core" and a good climactic high C, even though there is an ungainly transit to the low at the conclusion of the downward scale. The score is followed at the end of the duet with no interruption for applause, thus generating a fine dramatic momentum for Norma's shock at recognizing that Adalgisa is Pollione's beloved. This registers strongly in a deeply astounded "Ei," compromised a moment later by her anticipating a beat on "Ben io compresi?" In addressing Pollione directly, Gencer is at first deeply hurt for "e per chi," then aflame with fury for the "Oh non tremare," where there are some pitch problems, especially at the crucial "figli tuoi." She rattles fearsomely through some of the passage work and still displays a good high C, but she runs short of breath whenever going down the scale toward "fellon," losing... "lon" both times. Her anguished rage is surprisingly undifferentiated in "Oh di qual sei tu vittima," and even in the materia di mezzo there isn't much holding back for "Lo compi." "Vanne, sì" has just as much fury, and one "indegno" is even spoken! She climaxes the scene with a strong high D. It is clear in this scene that the voice itself is in fine shape. One could only wish she showed a keener discipline in the bel canto passages and in a more carefully calibrated rage, however heartfelt her involvement in Norma's anguish.
Norma's emotional trials in the opening scene of Act II are made vivid enough in Gencer's interpretation. But with all the intrinsic strength of her vocal resources, signs of sloughing off accumulate, perhaps due to fatigue. The dramatic engagement remains as compelling as ever. No attempt is made to accommodate an awkward register break across "supplizio assai," and "si solleva il crin" seems poorly supported. There is a horrifying rasp on "uccido," and in the "Teneri figli" solo, the "Delizia mia" starts unsteadily, becoming better as it softens toward the end. When Norma abruptly cuts off the wistful strains of "Teneri figli" on "E io li svenerò," Gencer again fails to sustain a level tone, and "morti" turns gravelly. Perhaps this reflects dramatic expression, but if that was what was intended, it is not clear enough. There is so much dramatic insight of another sort in the anguish that Gencer projects here that the vocal mishaps come off as accidental and distracting. They don't seem integrated with her vocal projection of character. She is certainly effective in her quick "Feriam," followed by a hair-raising fermata on a prolonged and utterly secure "Ah! no" giving the lie to any suspicion of vocal trouble. So it seems to be inattention that is at fault. Still, the registers continue unmalleable in her initial exchange with Adalgisa. One can salute a convincing cry of anguish for "gli perdono, e moro" and a lovely piano on "Pei figli suoi." In "Deh! con te," "serbati" is given a richly expressive portamento, "abbandonati" gets a diminuendo, and while there are aspirates in the closing phrases, the high C is attacked and sustained perfectly. Gencer seems to be gasping in sorrow for her "Ah! perchè" in response to Adalgisa's "Mira o Norma" while some tones seem unintentionally constricted to no apparent purpose. Dramatic purpose there is, however, once she accedes to Adalgisa's plea in the materia di mezzo. Her "Hai vinto" vividly conveys the point of no return and becomes the epitome of a new hope. Unfortunately, both Gencer and the usually spirited Simionato fail to capitalize on this and do not deliver the ascending staccati in the cabaletta crisply. These are not really staccati at all, and this lack makes much of the concluding insieme limp.
In Gencer's final scene, the high C in the opening flourish of hope is also compromised, attacked flat and not successfully sustained. Typically, the high C suddenly becomes fine in her call for vengeance, and her "Sterminio" is properly awesome as well, but the gravelly problems return as she confirms that it's war, once and for all. It's surprising that, once Pollione is caught, there is no attempt to make "Son vendicata adesso" an aside, and her "Sì, Norma" is also an entirely public pronouncement. There is a desperate urgency both to her astonishment at not having the heart to slay Pollione on the spot and to her hasty announcement to the multitude. Then, at the opening of Norma and Pollione's fateful duet, the unsteadiness returns, together with some aspirates. Her "Giura" is partly spoken, but this is effective in context, redeemed, in addition, by her sorrowful treatment of the confession of having nearly killed the children. This is one of the most compelling moments of Gencer's final scene. It is complemented by the admirable drive of her "Solo! Tutti/I Romani," culminating in a sure reading of its headlong passagework and a blazing "perirà." Then, we are thrown back to parlando for "è tardi," and she misjudges her breath in the "Già mi pasco." Gencer and Prevedi plunge immediately into the transitional sequence following the duet without waiting for applause. Here, we have one of Gencer's most telling inflections: her aside, "Io rea, L'innocente accusar del fallo mio?" is a brilliant moment of alarmed self-awareness, intimate in its delivery.
The key moment of Gencer's "Son io" has too marked a portamento, but a good diminuendo on "i" of "io," offset by a clumsy release. The effect of Norma's sacrifice is better heightened by Gencer's more elegant portamento on... "ge" ... of "ergete." The "Qual cor tradisti" is enhanced by fine decrescendo at the end of the first three phrases but culminates in a slightly scooped final note, which only reaches true pitch when it becomes piano. What a pity that "Romano" goes flat and the word "con" founders on a nasty register break. In the final materia di mezzo, Gencer's "Oltre ogni umana idea" is an entirely public proclamation, while her "Son madre" is a hasty, muted admission for her father alone. The poignant flourish on "Un prego ancor" is attacked full voice and only becomes piano on the bridge note immediately before... "go" of "prego." This is followed by a wrenching sob. The closing "Deh! non volerli" comes out as a devastating wail, with a choppy line at "abbi di lor pietà." This is a troubled reading by a singer with great insight, a fine instrument, but unsure technical control.
In assessing the next recorded interpretation, featuring Elena Souliotis, it has proved impossible to avoid a personal approach. For one thing, the critical brickbats thrown its way are startling: "much that is simply below standard"; "She [hasn't] the delicacy"... "a lack of variety, and insistence-which some- times amounts to vulgarity-on making effects by power rather than subtlety"," "the sort of release that can ruin a record company's reputation"... "the opera is massacred"... "It would be tedious to list [all Varviso's cuts]" ... "imitation Callas without the genius" ... "seems stiff and amateurish" ... "mezzo-like sound thins out drastically in the upper register."
However, this Decca/London 1967 recording does not seem as uniformly awful as this reviewer had been led to expect. The cuts may be severe, but that doesn't necessarily make the performance worthless. Since both Souliotis and Anita Cerquetti were mainstays of the Decca/London catalogue and had similarly abbreviated careers, the tendency has been to pair them together as some- how comparable. I would submit that Souliotis may have been the more imaginative artist, however superior Cerquetti's basic instrument. Souliotis has clearly "connected" with Bellini's music. There is an affecting directness to much of her singing, and the voice is capable of sounding plangent and well-focused. I, for one, feel convinced by her reading. She offers a richer and more steady sound here than in her Anna Bolena. Interpretively, she doesn't match the subtlety of someone like Callas, particularly in the Margherita Wallmann broadcast of 1955. But then, who does? Souliotis still gives a vivid enough reading to transform the listener into a spectator - and there are some musical felicities as well. It's a rare musician who, in the frenzy of the "Vanne, sì" at the conclusion of the first act, can soften the "Figli oblia, promesse, onore" just enough to convey the nostalgia of what Pollione and Norma once had. This is imagination and alert technical delivery combined. Granted, Souliotis has no trill, but, after all, neither do some others. She occasionally exaggerates the contrasts already built into Bellini's own score, threatening "To gilde refined Gold, to paint the Lilly." She doesn't sound as opulent as a Milanov or a Sutherland-let alone a Cerquetti. But few do. Souliotis offers a creditable assumption, not merely better than her Bolena vocally, but a thoughtful, musical reading with individual touches that linger in the memory long after. Such insights suggest a stylistic acuity of a high order. She is not "stiff and amateurish"! Mario Del Monaco repeats his Pollione …..
09.01.1965 NORMA
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro alla Scala
Gianandrea Gavazzeni
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Bruno Prevedi (Pollione); Giulietta Simionato
(Adalgisa); Nicola Zaccaria (Oroveso); Piero de Palma (Flavio); Luciana Piccolo
(Clotilde)
Bonus Tracks
HIGHLIGHTS NORMA
30.01.1965 NORMA
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro di San Carlo / Fernando Previtali
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Fiorenza Cossotto (Adalgisa); Gianfranco Cecchele
(Pollione); Ivo Vinco (Oroveso)
24.07.1965 NORMA
Orchestra e Coro dell'Arena di Verona / Gianandrea Gavazzeni
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Fiorenza Cossotto (Adalgisa); Bruno Prevedi
(Pollione); Ivo Vinco (Oroveso)
18.07.1964 NORMA
Orquesta y Coro Estables del Teatro Colon / Bruno Bartoletti
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Adriana Lazzarini (Adalgisa); Bruno Prevedi
(Pollione); William Wildermann (Oroveso)
Myto – 3 CDs
NORMA 1965
MUSICWEB
2018 September
Bellini’s Norma - A
discographical survey
by Ralph Moore
There are around 130 recordings of Norma in the catalogue of which only ten were made in the studio. The penultimate version of those was made as long as thirty-five years ago, then, after a long gap, Cecilia Bartoli made a new recording between 2011 and 2013 which is really hors concours for reasons which I elaborate in my review below. The comparative scarcity of studio accounts is partially explained by the difficulty of casting the eponymous role, which epitomises bel canto style yet also lends itself to verismo interpretation, requiring a vocalist of supreme ability and versatility.
Its challenges have thus been essayed by the greatest sopranos in history, beginning with Giuditta Pasta, who created the role of Norma in 1831. Subsequent famous exponents include Maria Malibran, Jenny Lind and Lilli Lehmann in the nineteenth century, through to Claudia Muzio, Rosa Ponselle and Gina Cigna in the first part of the twentieth. Maria Callas, then Joan Sutherland, dominated the role post-war; both performed it frequently and each made two bench-mark studio recordings. Callas in particular is to this day identified with Norma alongside Tosca; she performed it on stage over eighty times, and her interpretation casts a long shadow. Artists since, such as Gencer, Caballé, Scotto, Sills, and, more recently, Sondra Radvanovsky have had success with it, but none has really challenged the supremacy of Callas and Sutherland. Now that the age of expensive studio opera recordings is largely over in favour of recording live or concert performances, and given that there seemed to be little commercial or artistic rationale for producing another recording to challenge those already in the catalogue, the appearance of the new Bartoli recording was a surprise, but it sought to justify its existence via the claim that it authentically reinstates the integrity of Bellini’s original concept in matters such as voice categories, ornamentation and instrumentation.
Dead at only thirty-three, Bellini nonetheless left us half a dozen masterpieces of which Norma and I Puritani are the best, replete with the long, flowing melodies which sent Verdi into ecstasies. Greatest of those melodies is that showpiece aria “Casta diva”, performable only by a soprano of supreme gifts; if it does not come off, the opera is fatally compromised. The simplicity of Romani’s poetic utterance is couched in long, florid lines of melismata and ornamentation and it requires both power and delicacy to encompass its demands.
Despite the allure of its principal role, Norma also offers juicy and highly dramatic parts to tenors, mezzo-sopranos and even basses – although Oroveso is not perhaps among the plum bass role in the operatic repertoire, the choruses are positively banal and there is nothing for a baritone. Adalgisa’s arias, however, are enchanting and the duets between Norma and Adalgisa offer some of the most beguiling singing in thirds in the whole operatic repertoire. The trios concluding Act 1, too, are splendidly melodic and dramatic; the female voices entwine with a tenor who must be a singer of the highest quality; great tenors who have evidently enjoyed displaying their trumpeting tones as Pollione include Martinelli, Del Monaco, Vickers and Corelli, all of whose voices are beefier than what Bellini had in mind, but Pollione’s martial arias and opportunities for grandstanding have proved irresistible to a big-voiced tenors who must have the nerve to hit a resounding top C and a B flat within a few minutes of his entrance – even though many cravenly duck it - as well as sounding like a hero while essentially portraying one opera’s greatest ratfinks...
Sympathetic, flexible, idiomatic conducting and a fine orchestra matter, too, as some of the instrumental writing is exquisite; I think particularly of the atmospheric prelude to Adalgisa’s first entrance with “Sgombra è la sacra selva” or the sinuous introduction to the opera’s most famous aria, “Casta diva”.
I assess below all ten studio recordings plus a selection of fourteen live performances. As with previous surveys, I plead that I cannot begin to encompass everything available but have aimed to include here at least a sample of the most notable and interesting versions.
The recordings
Vittorio Gui – 1937 (studio mono) Cetra, Grammofono 2000, Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - EIAR Torino
Chorus - EIAR Torino
Norma - Gina Cigna
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Giovanni Brevario
Oroveso - Tancredi Pasero
Clotilde - Adriana Perris
Flavio - Emilio Renzi
The first voice we hear is that of one of the great basses of that era, Tancredi Pasero whose, vibrant, flickering voice with its fast vibrato pins backs the listener’s ears. Vittorio Gui, who also conducts an excellent performance starring a young Callas in 1952 and reviewed next, really keeps things moving so that the opera does not degenerate into a series of set pieces but relaxes during the most affecting passages such as the duet “Mira, O Norma” to accommodate his singers and allow their music to breathe. Tenor Giovanni Brevario has not the subtlest or most beautiful voice, but he gives a strong, virile account of Pollione. Cigna has none of Callas’ verbal acuity with the text, but she has a big, ductile soprano with a mezzo-ish tint and some slight squalidness up top betraying its origins in that tessitura. She conveys a regal grandeur, albeit in a generalised way, and the pyrotechnics hold no terrors for her. She is matched by a young Ebe Stignani in majestic voice, with a resonant lower register and the steadiest of lines; she blends beautifully with Cigna.
Until the slurring inherent in the original 78s has been corrected via a Naxos or Pristine type of remastering this cannot be a strong recommendation as the constant slips and slides in pitch are disconcerting, but it remains recommendable as a supplement for the enthusiast tolerant of historical recordings, as the quality of performance is high.
Vittorio Gui – 1952 (live mono) Warner, EMI
Orchestra - Covent Garden
Chorus - Covent Garden
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Mirto Picchi
Oroveso - Giacomo Vaghi
Clotilde - Joan Sutherland
Flavio - Paul Asciak
On first listening, I was immediately struck by the firm, vibrant Oroveso, Giacomo Vaghi, then the neat, virile tone of the Pollione, Mirto Picchi - a pity he completely shirks the opening top C and even ducks the concluding B flat in “Me protegge”. Callas is never less than stellar in all the extant recordings, both live and the two studio versions, and here she is once more in best voice for a role which surely resonated more with her than Tosca, a character she actively disliked for all that her assumption was definitive. With Stignani’s entrance we enter operatic heaven; her duets and trios with Picchi and Callas are sheer delight.
Gui conducted the first complete recording fifteen years earlier and is completely at home in this music.
The sound is too poor – brash, tinny and a bit papery up top – for this to be a prime recommendation but it’s listenable if you are habituated to historical sound. (This was for me the discovery of the whole collection in the “Callas Live” set from Warner.)
Antonino Votto – 1953 (live mono) Divina
Orchestra - Teatro Verdi di Trieste
Chorus - Teatro Verdi di Trieste
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Elena Nicolai
Pollione - Franco Corelli
Oroveso - Boris Christoff
Clotilde - Bruna Ronchini
Flavio - Raimondo Botteghelli
It needs to be emphasised that this Divina issue is as authentic and complete a record of the live 1953 performance as can be bought, whereas the Melodram issue from 1991 is a complete hodgepodge of a fabrication, patching the final result with snippets from recordings made between 1949 and 1958; thus, less than half the music there is from that evening of 19th November, 1953. No doubt Melodram aimed simply to produce as close a representation as possible of that evening of November 19th, but it isn't an honest product insofar as the labelling gives no indication of the disparate sources or of the fact that less than half of the music is from Trieste - it was in fact ultimately withdrawn.
This Divina issue, however, is the real thing, having collected and re-mastered all the surviving excerpts of the Trieste recording as could be found. It is thus almost complete, running to 100 minutes; notable omissions are the overture and practically two thirds of the music from the Act I duet "Oh rimembranza!" but it would seem that this is as good as we are ever going to get unless more supposedly lost material emerges.
All this and more regarding other Callas "fakes and forgeries" is explained in detail by Callas enthusiasts and experts Milan Petkovic and Dr Robert E. Seletsky in the extensive and fascinating CDROM support material, which includes articles regarding Callas in Norma, Tosca and Turandot, photographs, reviews, audio samples, discographies and a catalogue. Having said all that, it must be admitted that even after expert clean-up the muddy, distorted, mono sound, plagued by interference, is such that it can only appeal to historical buffs. Ensemble is a murky mess; Individual voices, however, emerge comparatively unscathed and with a cast such as this it is there that most interest will be concentrated, opening with Christoff's grand, steady and imposing Oroveso - his only one on record and easily the best of all accounts of the High Priest. Corelli is in his sappiest, most ringing voice, the youthful tremulousness in his vibrato now under control; despite the sheer size and voluptuousness of his sound he employs some pleasing subtleties such as careful diminuendos - which became his trademark, and which perhaps contributed to his decline. As is so often the case with a role which demands vocal heft and a trenchant lower register, Elena Nicolai sounds too mature and stentorian for the supposedly young and vulnerable Adalgisa, but she shares that minor handicap with many a successful exponent of that role such as Stignani, Cossotto and Tourangeau - and the voice per se is splendid.
Callas is in her finest vocal estate, just during her dramatic weight loss period and the onset of insecurities. This is arguably her best "Casta diva" and virtually everything goes as she intends it to. The later refinements which accompanied encroaching frailties are missing; she sings "straight" and very beautifully. Were the sound better, I would unhesitatingly recommend it as her best outing as Norma, but I still return to the 1955 performances with the same conductor and the other with Serafin, and even to the 1960 studio recording for the benefits of enhanced insight and more grateful acoustics.
This is perhaps the best sung of all Callas' various recordings of Norma even if it is still in trying, albeit re-mastered, sound. It also offers a lot of fascinating support material on CD-ROM.
Tullio Serafin – 1954 (studio mono) Warner, EMI, Naxos, Brilliant
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Mario Filippeschi
Oroveso - Nicola Rossi-Lemeni
Clotilde - Rina Cavallari
Flavio - Paolo Caroli
I cannot give this recording an unqualified recommendation when there is competition of far greater quality provided by Callas herself in her other recordings. No other artist, including Sutherland or Caballé, can touch her from interpretative point of view, but if you want to hear her worthily partnered, too, you need to go elsewhere
In truth, that great artist Ebe Stignani was sounding too mature for Adalgisa by this stage of her career, Filippeschi is very ordinary and blaring as Pollione and Rossi-Lemeni is gruff, gritty and unsteady of line compared with the smooth production of Zaccaria. I readily admit that if no other recordings with Callas were available, I'd probably be happy with it. I keep the highlights disc, just to hear Callas in best, youthful voice, but there are better options for a complete recording.
Tullio Serafin – 1955 (radio broadcast, mono) Frequenz, Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - RAI Roma
Chorus - RAI Roma
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Mario Del Monaco
Oroveso - Giuseppe Modesti
Clotilde - Rina Cavallari
Flavio - Athos Cesarini
Callas is again in superb voice here but her performance for Votto later the same year is marginally even better; furthermore, the later recording at La Scala, reviewed immediately below, now enjoys the considerable advantage of Pristine’s remastering as well as having a better cast all-round. Stignani’s mezzo sounds rather too mature for Adalgisa - indeed, her majestic delivery rather negates any impression of vulnerability or naivety - and there is audible wear in her tone. Serafin moulds the music more effectively than the passive Votto but that is not enough to swing the balance in favour of this recording compared with the RAI/Pristine issue.
Antonino Votto – 1955 (live mono/Ambient Stereo) Pristine
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Giulietta Simionato
Pollione - Mario Del Monaco
Oroveso - Nicola Zaccaria
Clotilde - Gabriella Carturan
Flavio - Giuseppe Zampieri
Pristine Sound Engineer Andrew Rose tells us in the liner-notes that his research into which Callas Norma to re-master indicated that this live 1955 performance was the best candidate - and I agree with him. This performance probably enshrines the best of all Callas' many assumptions of this role and Simionato's Adalgisa, in particular, is a performance to treasure. Del Monaco is a real Helden Pollione but not brutal or insensitive, nor necessarily inferior to Corelli's equally virile Roman in the studio recording. Votto is a relaxed, pliant accompanist, reluctant to impose himself upon four such experienced and musical soloists - and the supporting roles are well taken, too.
The RAI broadcast from earlier the same year is also estimable; it has the same two principals and the advantage of Serafin’s more flexible conducting over the rather staid Votto but it must also be said that the great Ebe Stignani was by that stage of her career rather mature for the youthful Adalgisa, Giulietta Simionato’s impassioned singing is more apt, and Zaccaria is marginally preferable over Modesti as Oroveso.
Rose tells us that his investigations revealed that the tapes of both this and that RAI performance were sharp. He has corrected this fault here with the result that the voices sound fuller, richer and altogether easier on the ear. Flutter has been removed, and individual sound strands emerge more cleanly and better differentiated instead of melding into the familiar orchestral mush. Following the practice of previous issues, Rose has resorted to substituting the overture missing from the original recording with that from the RAI broadcast and no-one is likely to complain or hear any difference. The Pristine “Ambient Stereo” treatment also lends added presence to the rather thin, scratchy sound whose relative inadequacy is more noticeable in purely orchestral rather than vocal passages. This will never be an aural treat, but Pristine’s re-mastering has given us the best we are ever going to hear.
As the years go by, it is increasingly apparent that we shall not hear the likes of either Callas or Del Monaco again. Even if their emphatic and even stentorian delivery is sometimes rather removed from what we might expect from a quintessential bel canto opera we hear great delicacy and some lovely divisions from Callas in her big arias. There will always be some flap and wobble even in her finest recordings, but these flaws are negligible alongside her peerless ability to inflect the music with unforgettable intensity and pathos; this cleaned-up recording remains the finest memorial to her most famous role.
Gabriele Santini – 1958 (live mono) Opera d'Oro, Myto, Living Stage, GOP
Orchestra - Teatro dell'Opera di Roma
Chorus - Teatro dell'Opera di Roma
Norma - Anita Cerquetti
Adalgisa - Miriam Pirazzini
Pollione - Franco Corelli
Oroveso - Giulio Neri
Clotilde - Giannella Borelli
Flavio - Piero De Palma
Anita Cerquetti's career was very short, so any addition to the two commercial recordings she made is welcome, and this is the most famous of her live performances, made at her peak while only twenty-six years old. Her career was to last only four more years, and one can only wonder what she might have done had she been able to continue but it was not to be.
The fame of this performance is enhanced by the fact that she took over from an ailing Maria Callas and triumphed as Norma. Italian audiences loved her, and you can clearly hear why here. I say "clearly" but in fact the sound is pretty dismal and it makes little difference which label you buy - Opera d'Oro, Myto, Living Stage or GOP - they are all the same as the sound is irredeemably dim and distant and I doubt whether even Andrew Rose could work much Pristine magic on it, although he has yet to try. It is dry, peaky and boomy, the orchestra and chorus badly recessed, so that we can only just hear how energised the choral singing and conducting are; Santini was of course a safe pair of hands.
But the cast is stellar: Corelli is in finest, most ringing and heroic voice, the vibrato attractively fast but not irksome or obtrusive in the way that early in his career earned him the cruel nickname "Pecorelli" ("Little sheep" or perhaps better, "Baa-lamb"). He is impassioned and virile; surely the best Pollione ever. Giulio Neri's bass is impressively cavernous, if rather "woofy" to my ears; a mere four months later this great artist was dead from a heart attack at only 49. Miriam Pirazzini is very good, if not quite n the same class as the greatest exponents of the role of Adalgisa, such as Stignani, Simionato, Cossotto, Ludwig and Horne. The supporting cast features the ubiquitous comprimario tenor Piero De Palma and Sumi Jo's teacher, Gianella Borelli. But what of Cerquetti? Hers was a huge, clear, bright, steady soprano, utterly even throughout its range (if with a slightly "short" top with the occasional slightly screamed top C), tackling the coloratura with ease, evincing no strain in sustaining long legato lines and bringing plenty of temperament to her characterisation. Perhaps all she lacks is the last ounce of individuality which marks out the Normas of Callas and Ponselle, but her Norma is still mightily secure and satisfying. She brings surprising delicacy to the conclusion of "Casta diva" and the enraptured audience moos with pleasure, awarding her an ovation which lasts over two minutes and is included in its entirety here. The series of duets between Norma and Adalgisa at the beginning of Act 2 is sublime.
This cannot be a first recommendation, but it is surely a desirable supplement for the Norma aficionado, as long as the trying sound can be endured.
Tullio Serafin – 1960 (studio stereo) Warner, EMI
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Christa Ludwig
Pollione - Franco Corelli
Oroveso - Nicola Zaccaria
Clotilde - Edda Vincenzi
Flavio - Piero De Palma
This recording has the advantage of being studio recorded in good stereo sound – very welcome after all those tinny, live mono recordings - and also partners Callas with superlative singers in Corelli, Ludwig and - for the third time - Zaccaria. Callas' voice had not so much deteriorated by the time of this recording, apart from a few flapping top notes; the decline in her voice was not a linear process, as her later recordings of La Gioconda and the 1960 Norma testify, Furthermore, there are huge compensations in the delicacy of her characterisation; she introduces new subtleties and even when her voice does not quite do her bidding you can sense the emotions guiding it.
The cast here is glamorous and indeed there is an air of glamour about the whole thing, starting with Corelli’s glorious tenor. I just drink in Corelli’s voice and when he obliges us by sailing up to the top C that occurs a few bars into his first aria, “Meco all’altar di Venere”, I can’t stop grinning. There is a such pathos, such tenderness, such a depth of suffering in Callas’ vocalisation that I can easily forgive the odd wobble and a little loosening. Ludwig was a clever and unexpected choice; she has depth of tone without sounding the least bit too old and the role sit squarely in the middle of her lustrous mezzo-soprano and the fervent feeling with which she invests “Deh, proteggemi, O Dio!” matches Callas for intensity.
Serafin has the advantage of an orchestra which plays beautifully, and he supports his singers ideally without unduly lingering. The cumulative combination of the advantages of this recording makes it highly desirable.
Richard Bonynge – 1964 (studio stereo) Decca
Orchestra - London Symphony Orchestra
Chorus - London Symphony Orchestra Chorus
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Marilyn Horne
Pollione - John Alexander
Oroveso - Richard Cross
Clotilde - Yvonne Minton
Flavio - Joseph Ward
It is true that I sometimes find Bonynge's beat here a bit limp, and I concede that to love this set you must have a taste for Sutherland's soprano. To some, she was and remains the prima donna assoluta in her chosen territory and even if she sometimes lacks the variety of a soprano sfogato like Callas, her singing per se is often simply breath-taking. What trills, what legato, what agility. As always, the power as she rises up and above the stave is astonishing and she is worthily partnered, especially by Marilyn Horne who, despite being neither the soprano for whom the role was written or having a voice which sounds as if it would complement her Norma, seems to match Sutherland perfectly. One reason is the complete unity of their phrasing; they listen carefully and match each other perfectly in those passages in thirds.
Both Americans John Alexander and Richard Cross, despite having distinguished careers, were relatively little recorded but they really shine here, having refined, passionate, properly registered voices of the old school. Alexander is especially virile and impressive, avoiding the clumsiness which sometimes afflicted the Pollione of tenors like Del Monaco and Corelli without ever sounding effete.
You can find some very strange, absurd and off-base reviews of this landmark recording. It was Norma, along with Lucia and Alcina which put Sutherland on the map as one of the greatest dramatic-lyric coloratura sopranos ever and enabled her to consolidate what Callas had begun in wresting such roles away from tweety-birds to big-voiced singers able to do them proper justice. One of the daftest things I read too often is the "theory" that she was a pushed-up mezzo; I am quite certain that no singer whose true Fach lay in a lower tessitura could expand the way she does as she soars up to top C, D and E-flat.
The later recording has its merits, but this is closer to perfection and captures Sutherland in her youthful prime shortly after she burst upon the operatic world.
Gianandrea Gavazzeni – 1965 (live mono) Myto
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Leyla Gencer
Adalgisa - Giulietta Simionato
Pollione - Bruno Prevedi
Oroveso - Nicola Zaccaria
Clotilde - Luciana Piccolo
Flavio - Piero De Palma
Recording companies lamentably neglected Leyla Gencer, so we invariably have to hear her in what used to be called “pirate” recordings. This one is in excellent mono sound, conducted in spirited fashion by the ever-reliable Gavazzeni. This was obviously a prestigious production with a star cast of La Scala regulars. Matters open promisingly with Zaccaria’s instantly-recognisable bass although the potential weak link is the tenor, Bruno Prevedi – a good but never quite front-rank singer. He had an attractive, baritonal timbre which reminds me of Bonisolli and no unpleasant mannerisms. He is not especially stylish and sometimes a bit effortful, edging just under the note, but he is just about competent. The trouble is, much better tenors like Corelli ring in the ears.
Of course, Gencer is wonderful; she, too, has an inimitable tone: rich, flexible, with a little glottal catch in it which is always suggestive of tears and the audience clearly approves. She is matched by Simionato whose powerful mezzo negotiates Adalgisa’s music easily even if she sounds too smoky, stentorian and sophisticated for the role. Their partnership will appeal to many, Gavazzeni allows them to linger over the cantilena passages in their duets and their voices blend and entwine deliciously. However, there are some intonation issues there, too, and other recordings offer a more completely satisfying experience.
Silvio Varviso - 1967 (studio stereo) Decca Eloquence
Orchestra - Santa Cecilia
Chorus - Santa Cecilia
Norma - Elena Souliotis
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Mario Del Monaco
Oroveso - Carlo Cava
Clotilde - Giuliana Tavolaccini
Flavio - Athos Cesarini
My own copy of this 2CD set was expertly and privately re-mastered for personal use and not as a commercial issue, but this Decca recording has now once more become available to both lovers of the opera and of Elena Souliotis (spelled “Suliotis” in her earliest public incarnation), whose career and indeed life were both sadly curtailed; she died of heart failure aged 61 having long previously retired.
I am indebted to my skilled amateur sound engineer friend who provided me with the CDs for the following information: originally released in 1968, it was one of the last LPs to be issued in both mono and stereo versions, although the latter was available only in the US, on the London label. It remained available through the early 70's after only one pressing batch and then disappeared, apart from the highlight’s discs on both Decca and London.
In fact even that "complete" recording was not: in order to fit it onto four LP sides rather than the normal six, the producers opted to trim it by adopting the regular, small stage cuts and some of what must admittedly be adjudged the more banal music, such as the first rum-ti-tum Druid march before "Casta diva", which is in any case repeated later, some cabaletta repeats, an internal cut in "Qual cor tradisti, qual cor perdesti" and, more substantially, the whole first scene of Act II, "Ah! del Tebro". This reduces the role of the chorus and considerably shortens Oroveso's part to that of an "extended comprimario". It is strongly sung by Carlo Cava but the reduction in his music is no great loss and what remains is priceless: three great voices giving it their all. For me, as so often in this opera, the highlight is the extended trio at the climax concluding Act I; we shall not again hear three voices like theirs singing out with such wild abandon.
Del Monaco was in his early fifties when this recording was made and beginning to slide in his attack on top notes but still in typically marvellous, trumpeting voice, even if he may be heard to greater advantage in live recordings with Callas in the mid 1950's.
Souliotis' good fortune was to arrive on the operatic scene just as Callas' star was dimming; her mistake was to attempt and give too much too soon. Only 24 at the time - under half her tenor's age - she clearly lacks a finished technique: the registers are disjointed, and she sometimes resorts to a strange, disembodied and unsupported crooning when trying to sing high-flying passages softly, as in "teneri figli", and yet it is too easy to carp when so much else is simply wonderful. I find that her voice exercises a strange fascination, it is such an individual instrument. Comparisons with Callas are inevitable, not to the detriment of either singer, but because both have such a gift for enlivening and declaiming text and both make such telling use of their trenchant lower registers at such points as in her recitative before "Casta diva" on "Romani" and "morra", and "ed odio" at the beginning of Act II. Vocal production can be lumpy and vibrations fluttery, yet she can cope with the fioriture of "Ah! bello a me ritorna" and the sheer size of the instrument matches that of her fellow singers. We are blessed in the presence of the young Fiorenza Cossotto in one of her most celebrated roles, which she sang alongside Callas; she is simply flawless, easily encompassing the wide tessitura of Adalgisa's part and absolutely thrilling when singing her duet with Del Monaco.
The recording is excellent, made in a big, broad acoustic rather than the over-miked sound we hear too often today which is presumably engineered to compensate for voices being too small. Varviso's conducting is wonderfully energised; he takes quite a few passages a little faster than is normal - for example, the glorious harmonised-in-thirds music whose soft tread accompanies Adalgisa's first entrance - but he also knows when to relax and give his singers space - and sometimes Souliotis evidently really needs it simply to get the notes out; this is one of the killer roles of all opera. This was, Souliotis apart, an all-Italian production and it is infused with dramatic energy. The cuts mean it cannot be a first recommendation, but I love it.
Richard Bonynge – 1969 (live mono) Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - Teatro Colón (Buenos Aires)
Chorus - Teatro Colón (Buenos Aires)
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
by Ralph Moore
There are around 130 recordings of Norma in the catalogue of which only ten were made in the studio. The penultimate version of those was made as long as thirty-five years ago, then, after a long gap, Cecilia Bartoli made a new recording between 2011 and 2013 which is really hors concours for reasons which I elaborate in my review below. The comparative scarcity of studio accounts is partially explained by the difficulty of casting the eponymous role, which epitomises bel canto style yet also lends itself to verismo interpretation, requiring a vocalist of supreme ability and versatility.
Its challenges have thus been essayed by the greatest sopranos in history, beginning with Giuditta Pasta, who created the role of Norma in 1831. Subsequent famous exponents include Maria Malibran, Jenny Lind and Lilli Lehmann in the nineteenth century, through to Claudia Muzio, Rosa Ponselle and Gina Cigna in the first part of the twentieth. Maria Callas, then Joan Sutherland, dominated the role post-war; both performed it frequently and each made two bench-mark studio recordings. Callas in particular is to this day identified with Norma alongside Tosca; she performed it on stage over eighty times, and her interpretation casts a long shadow. Artists since, such as Gencer, Caballé, Scotto, Sills, and, more recently, Sondra Radvanovsky have had success with it, but none has really challenged the supremacy of Callas and Sutherland. Now that the age of expensive studio opera recordings is largely over in favour of recording live or concert performances, and given that there seemed to be little commercial or artistic rationale for producing another recording to challenge those already in the catalogue, the appearance of the new Bartoli recording was a surprise, but it sought to justify its existence via the claim that it authentically reinstates the integrity of Bellini’s original concept in matters such as voice categories, ornamentation and instrumentation.
Dead at only thirty-three, Bellini nonetheless left us half a dozen masterpieces of which Norma and I Puritani are the best, replete with the long, flowing melodies which sent Verdi into ecstasies. Greatest of those melodies is that showpiece aria “Casta diva”, performable only by a soprano of supreme gifts; if it does not come off, the opera is fatally compromised. The simplicity of Romani’s poetic utterance is couched in long, florid lines of melismata and ornamentation and it requires both power and delicacy to encompass its demands.
Despite the allure of its principal role, Norma also offers juicy and highly dramatic parts to tenors, mezzo-sopranos and even basses – although Oroveso is not perhaps among the plum bass role in the operatic repertoire, the choruses are positively banal and there is nothing for a baritone. Adalgisa’s arias, however, are enchanting and the duets between Norma and Adalgisa offer some of the most beguiling singing in thirds in the whole operatic repertoire. The trios concluding Act 1, too, are splendidly melodic and dramatic; the female voices entwine with a tenor who must be a singer of the highest quality; great tenors who have evidently enjoyed displaying their trumpeting tones as Pollione include Martinelli, Del Monaco, Vickers and Corelli, all of whose voices are beefier than what Bellini had in mind, but Pollione’s martial arias and opportunities for grandstanding have proved irresistible to a big-voiced tenors who must have the nerve to hit a resounding top C and a B flat within a few minutes of his entrance – even though many cravenly duck it - as well as sounding like a hero while essentially portraying one opera’s greatest ratfinks...
Sympathetic, flexible, idiomatic conducting and a fine orchestra matter, too, as some of the instrumental writing is exquisite; I think particularly of the atmospheric prelude to Adalgisa’s first entrance with “Sgombra è la sacra selva” or the sinuous introduction to the opera’s most famous aria, “Casta diva”.
I assess below all ten studio recordings plus a selection of fourteen live performances. As with previous surveys, I plead that I cannot begin to encompass everything available but have aimed to include here at least a sample of the most notable and interesting versions.
The recordings
Vittorio Gui – 1937 (studio mono) Cetra, Grammofono 2000, Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - EIAR Torino
Chorus - EIAR Torino
Norma - Gina Cigna
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Giovanni Brevario
Oroveso - Tancredi Pasero
Clotilde - Adriana Perris
Flavio - Emilio Renzi
The first voice we hear is that of one of the great basses of that era, Tancredi Pasero whose, vibrant, flickering voice with its fast vibrato pins backs the listener’s ears. Vittorio Gui, who also conducts an excellent performance starring a young Callas in 1952 and reviewed next, really keeps things moving so that the opera does not degenerate into a series of set pieces but relaxes during the most affecting passages such as the duet “Mira, O Norma” to accommodate his singers and allow their music to breathe. Tenor Giovanni Brevario has not the subtlest or most beautiful voice, but he gives a strong, virile account of Pollione. Cigna has none of Callas’ verbal acuity with the text, but she has a big, ductile soprano with a mezzo-ish tint and some slight squalidness up top betraying its origins in that tessitura. She conveys a regal grandeur, albeit in a generalised way, and the pyrotechnics hold no terrors for her. She is matched by a young Ebe Stignani in majestic voice, with a resonant lower register and the steadiest of lines; she blends beautifully with Cigna.
Until the slurring inherent in the original 78s has been corrected via a Naxos or Pristine type of remastering this cannot be a strong recommendation as the constant slips and slides in pitch are disconcerting, but it remains recommendable as a supplement for the enthusiast tolerant of historical recordings, as the quality of performance is high.
Vittorio Gui – 1952 (live mono) Warner, EMI
Orchestra - Covent Garden
Chorus - Covent Garden
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Mirto Picchi
Oroveso - Giacomo Vaghi
Clotilde - Joan Sutherland
Flavio - Paul Asciak
On first listening, I was immediately struck by the firm, vibrant Oroveso, Giacomo Vaghi, then the neat, virile tone of the Pollione, Mirto Picchi - a pity he completely shirks the opening top C and even ducks the concluding B flat in “Me protegge”. Callas is never less than stellar in all the extant recordings, both live and the two studio versions, and here she is once more in best voice for a role which surely resonated more with her than Tosca, a character she actively disliked for all that her assumption was definitive. With Stignani’s entrance we enter operatic heaven; her duets and trios with Picchi and Callas are sheer delight.
Gui conducted the first complete recording fifteen years earlier and is completely at home in this music.
The sound is too poor – brash, tinny and a bit papery up top – for this to be a prime recommendation but it’s listenable if you are habituated to historical sound. (This was for me the discovery of the whole collection in the “Callas Live” set from Warner.)
Antonino Votto – 1953 (live mono) Divina
Orchestra - Teatro Verdi di Trieste
Chorus - Teatro Verdi di Trieste
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Elena Nicolai
Pollione - Franco Corelli
Oroveso - Boris Christoff
Clotilde - Bruna Ronchini
Flavio - Raimondo Botteghelli
It needs to be emphasised that this Divina issue is as authentic and complete a record of the live 1953 performance as can be bought, whereas the Melodram issue from 1991 is a complete hodgepodge of a fabrication, patching the final result with snippets from recordings made between 1949 and 1958; thus, less than half the music there is from that evening of 19th November, 1953. No doubt Melodram aimed simply to produce as close a representation as possible of that evening of November 19th, but it isn't an honest product insofar as the labelling gives no indication of the disparate sources or of the fact that less than half of the music is from Trieste - it was in fact ultimately withdrawn.
This Divina issue, however, is the real thing, having collected and re-mastered all the surviving excerpts of the Trieste recording as could be found. It is thus almost complete, running to 100 minutes; notable omissions are the overture and practically two thirds of the music from the Act I duet "Oh rimembranza!" but it would seem that this is as good as we are ever going to get unless more supposedly lost material emerges.
All this and more regarding other Callas "fakes and forgeries" is explained in detail by Callas enthusiasts and experts Milan Petkovic and Dr Robert E. Seletsky in the extensive and fascinating CDROM support material, which includes articles regarding Callas in Norma, Tosca and Turandot, photographs, reviews, audio samples, discographies and a catalogue. Having said all that, it must be admitted that even after expert clean-up the muddy, distorted, mono sound, plagued by interference, is such that it can only appeal to historical buffs. Ensemble is a murky mess; Individual voices, however, emerge comparatively unscathed and with a cast such as this it is there that most interest will be concentrated, opening with Christoff's grand, steady and imposing Oroveso - his only one on record and easily the best of all accounts of the High Priest. Corelli is in his sappiest, most ringing voice, the youthful tremulousness in his vibrato now under control; despite the sheer size and voluptuousness of his sound he employs some pleasing subtleties such as careful diminuendos - which became his trademark, and which perhaps contributed to his decline. As is so often the case with a role which demands vocal heft and a trenchant lower register, Elena Nicolai sounds too mature and stentorian for the supposedly young and vulnerable Adalgisa, but she shares that minor handicap with many a successful exponent of that role such as Stignani, Cossotto and Tourangeau - and the voice per se is splendid.
Callas is in her finest vocal estate, just during her dramatic weight loss period and the onset of insecurities. This is arguably her best "Casta diva" and virtually everything goes as she intends it to. The later refinements which accompanied encroaching frailties are missing; she sings "straight" and very beautifully. Were the sound better, I would unhesitatingly recommend it as her best outing as Norma, but I still return to the 1955 performances with the same conductor and the other with Serafin, and even to the 1960 studio recording for the benefits of enhanced insight and more grateful acoustics.
This is perhaps the best sung of all Callas' various recordings of Norma even if it is still in trying, albeit re-mastered, sound. It also offers a lot of fascinating support material on CD-ROM.
Tullio Serafin – 1954 (studio mono) Warner, EMI, Naxos, Brilliant
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Mario Filippeschi
Oroveso - Nicola Rossi-Lemeni
Clotilde - Rina Cavallari
Flavio - Paolo Caroli
I cannot give this recording an unqualified recommendation when there is competition of far greater quality provided by Callas herself in her other recordings. No other artist, including Sutherland or Caballé, can touch her from interpretative point of view, but if you want to hear her worthily partnered, too, you need to go elsewhere
In truth, that great artist Ebe Stignani was sounding too mature for Adalgisa by this stage of her career, Filippeschi is very ordinary and blaring as Pollione and Rossi-Lemeni is gruff, gritty and unsteady of line compared with the smooth production of Zaccaria. I readily admit that if no other recordings with Callas were available, I'd probably be happy with it. I keep the highlights disc, just to hear Callas in best, youthful voice, but there are better options for a complete recording.
Tullio Serafin – 1955 (radio broadcast, mono) Frequenz, Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - RAI Roma
Chorus - RAI Roma
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Ebe Stignani
Pollione - Mario Del Monaco
Oroveso - Giuseppe Modesti
Clotilde - Rina Cavallari
Flavio - Athos Cesarini
Callas is again in superb voice here but her performance for Votto later the same year is marginally even better; furthermore, the later recording at La Scala, reviewed immediately below, now enjoys the considerable advantage of Pristine’s remastering as well as having a better cast all-round. Stignani’s mezzo sounds rather too mature for Adalgisa - indeed, her majestic delivery rather negates any impression of vulnerability or naivety - and there is audible wear in her tone. Serafin moulds the music more effectively than the passive Votto but that is not enough to swing the balance in favour of this recording compared with the RAI/Pristine issue.
Antonino Votto – 1955 (live mono/Ambient Stereo) Pristine
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Giulietta Simionato
Pollione - Mario Del Monaco
Oroveso - Nicola Zaccaria
Clotilde - Gabriella Carturan
Flavio - Giuseppe Zampieri
Pristine Sound Engineer Andrew Rose tells us in the liner-notes that his research into which Callas Norma to re-master indicated that this live 1955 performance was the best candidate - and I agree with him. This performance probably enshrines the best of all Callas' many assumptions of this role and Simionato's Adalgisa, in particular, is a performance to treasure. Del Monaco is a real Helden Pollione but not brutal or insensitive, nor necessarily inferior to Corelli's equally virile Roman in the studio recording. Votto is a relaxed, pliant accompanist, reluctant to impose himself upon four such experienced and musical soloists - and the supporting roles are well taken, too.
The RAI broadcast from earlier the same year is also estimable; it has the same two principals and the advantage of Serafin’s more flexible conducting over the rather staid Votto but it must also be said that the great Ebe Stignani was by that stage of her career rather mature for the youthful Adalgisa, Giulietta Simionato’s impassioned singing is more apt, and Zaccaria is marginally preferable over Modesti as Oroveso.
Rose tells us that his investigations revealed that the tapes of both this and that RAI performance were sharp. He has corrected this fault here with the result that the voices sound fuller, richer and altogether easier on the ear. Flutter has been removed, and individual sound strands emerge more cleanly and better differentiated instead of melding into the familiar orchestral mush. Following the practice of previous issues, Rose has resorted to substituting the overture missing from the original recording with that from the RAI broadcast and no-one is likely to complain or hear any difference. The Pristine “Ambient Stereo” treatment also lends added presence to the rather thin, scratchy sound whose relative inadequacy is more noticeable in purely orchestral rather than vocal passages. This will never be an aural treat, but Pristine’s re-mastering has given us the best we are ever going to hear.
As the years go by, it is increasingly apparent that we shall not hear the likes of either Callas or Del Monaco again. Even if their emphatic and even stentorian delivery is sometimes rather removed from what we might expect from a quintessential bel canto opera we hear great delicacy and some lovely divisions from Callas in her big arias. There will always be some flap and wobble even in her finest recordings, but these flaws are negligible alongside her peerless ability to inflect the music with unforgettable intensity and pathos; this cleaned-up recording remains the finest memorial to her most famous role.
Gabriele Santini – 1958 (live mono) Opera d'Oro, Myto, Living Stage, GOP
Orchestra - Teatro dell'Opera di Roma
Chorus - Teatro dell'Opera di Roma
Norma - Anita Cerquetti
Adalgisa - Miriam Pirazzini
Pollione - Franco Corelli
Oroveso - Giulio Neri
Clotilde - Giannella Borelli
Flavio - Piero De Palma
Anita Cerquetti's career was very short, so any addition to the two commercial recordings she made is welcome, and this is the most famous of her live performances, made at her peak while only twenty-six years old. Her career was to last only four more years, and one can only wonder what she might have done had she been able to continue but it was not to be.
The fame of this performance is enhanced by the fact that she took over from an ailing Maria Callas and triumphed as Norma. Italian audiences loved her, and you can clearly hear why here. I say "clearly" but in fact the sound is pretty dismal and it makes little difference which label you buy - Opera d'Oro, Myto, Living Stage or GOP - they are all the same as the sound is irredeemably dim and distant and I doubt whether even Andrew Rose could work much Pristine magic on it, although he has yet to try. It is dry, peaky and boomy, the orchestra and chorus badly recessed, so that we can only just hear how energised the choral singing and conducting are; Santini was of course a safe pair of hands.
But the cast is stellar: Corelli is in finest, most ringing and heroic voice, the vibrato attractively fast but not irksome or obtrusive in the way that early in his career earned him the cruel nickname "Pecorelli" ("Little sheep" or perhaps better, "Baa-lamb"). He is impassioned and virile; surely the best Pollione ever. Giulio Neri's bass is impressively cavernous, if rather "woofy" to my ears; a mere four months later this great artist was dead from a heart attack at only 49. Miriam Pirazzini is very good, if not quite n the same class as the greatest exponents of the role of Adalgisa, such as Stignani, Simionato, Cossotto, Ludwig and Horne. The supporting cast features the ubiquitous comprimario tenor Piero De Palma and Sumi Jo's teacher, Gianella Borelli. But what of Cerquetti? Hers was a huge, clear, bright, steady soprano, utterly even throughout its range (if with a slightly "short" top with the occasional slightly screamed top C), tackling the coloratura with ease, evincing no strain in sustaining long legato lines and bringing plenty of temperament to her characterisation. Perhaps all she lacks is the last ounce of individuality which marks out the Normas of Callas and Ponselle, but her Norma is still mightily secure and satisfying. She brings surprising delicacy to the conclusion of "Casta diva" and the enraptured audience moos with pleasure, awarding her an ovation which lasts over two minutes and is included in its entirety here. The series of duets between Norma and Adalgisa at the beginning of Act 2 is sublime.
This cannot be a first recommendation, but it is surely a desirable supplement for the Norma aficionado, as long as the trying sound can be endured.
Tullio Serafin – 1960 (studio stereo) Warner, EMI
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Maria Callas
Adalgisa - Christa Ludwig
Pollione - Franco Corelli
Oroveso - Nicola Zaccaria
Clotilde - Edda Vincenzi
Flavio - Piero De Palma
This recording has the advantage of being studio recorded in good stereo sound – very welcome after all those tinny, live mono recordings - and also partners Callas with superlative singers in Corelli, Ludwig and - for the third time - Zaccaria. Callas' voice had not so much deteriorated by the time of this recording, apart from a few flapping top notes; the decline in her voice was not a linear process, as her later recordings of La Gioconda and the 1960 Norma testify, Furthermore, there are huge compensations in the delicacy of her characterisation; she introduces new subtleties and even when her voice does not quite do her bidding you can sense the emotions guiding it.
The cast here is glamorous and indeed there is an air of glamour about the whole thing, starting with Corelli’s glorious tenor. I just drink in Corelli’s voice and when he obliges us by sailing up to the top C that occurs a few bars into his first aria, “Meco all’altar di Venere”, I can’t stop grinning. There is a such pathos, such tenderness, such a depth of suffering in Callas’ vocalisation that I can easily forgive the odd wobble and a little loosening. Ludwig was a clever and unexpected choice; she has depth of tone without sounding the least bit too old and the role sit squarely in the middle of her lustrous mezzo-soprano and the fervent feeling with which she invests “Deh, proteggemi, O Dio!” matches Callas for intensity.
Serafin has the advantage of an orchestra which plays beautifully, and he supports his singers ideally without unduly lingering. The cumulative combination of the advantages of this recording makes it highly desirable.
Richard Bonynge – 1964 (studio stereo) Decca
Orchestra - London Symphony Orchestra
Chorus - London Symphony Orchestra Chorus
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Marilyn Horne
Pollione - John Alexander
Oroveso - Richard Cross
Clotilde - Yvonne Minton
Flavio - Joseph Ward
It is true that I sometimes find Bonynge's beat here a bit limp, and I concede that to love this set you must have a taste for Sutherland's soprano. To some, she was and remains the prima donna assoluta in her chosen territory and even if she sometimes lacks the variety of a soprano sfogato like Callas, her singing per se is often simply breath-taking. What trills, what legato, what agility. As always, the power as she rises up and above the stave is astonishing and she is worthily partnered, especially by Marilyn Horne who, despite being neither the soprano for whom the role was written or having a voice which sounds as if it would complement her Norma, seems to match Sutherland perfectly. One reason is the complete unity of their phrasing; they listen carefully and match each other perfectly in those passages in thirds.
Both Americans John Alexander and Richard Cross, despite having distinguished careers, were relatively little recorded but they really shine here, having refined, passionate, properly registered voices of the old school. Alexander is especially virile and impressive, avoiding the clumsiness which sometimes afflicted the Pollione of tenors like Del Monaco and Corelli without ever sounding effete.
You can find some very strange, absurd and off-base reviews of this landmark recording. It was Norma, along with Lucia and Alcina which put Sutherland on the map as one of the greatest dramatic-lyric coloratura sopranos ever and enabled her to consolidate what Callas had begun in wresting such roles away from tweety-birds to big-voiced singers able to do them proper justice. One of the daftest things I read too often is the "theory" that she was a pushed-up mezzo; I am quite certain that no singer whose true Fach lay in a lower tessitura could expand the way she does as she soars up to top C, D and E-flat.
The later recording has its merits, but this is closer to perfection and captures Sutherland in her youthful prime shortly after she burst upon the operatic world.
Gianandrea Gavazzeni – 1965 (live mono) Myto
Orchestra - Teatro alla Scala
Chorus - Teatro alla Scala
Norma - Leyla Gencer
Adalgisa - Giulietta Simionato
Pollione - Bruno Prevedi
Oroveso - Nicola Zaccaria
Clotilde - Luciana Piccolo
Flavio - Piero De Palma
Recording companies lamentably neglected Leyla Gencer, so we invariably have to hear her in what used to be called “pirate” recordings. This one is in excellent mono sound, conducted in spirited fashion by the ever-reliable Gavazzeni. This was obviously a prestigious production with a star cast of La Scala regulars. Matters open promisingly with Zaccaria’s instantly-recognisable bass although the potential weak link is the tenor, Bruno Prevedi – a good but never quite front-rank singer. He had an attractive, baritonal timbre which reminds me of Bonisolli and no unpleasant mannerisms. He is not especially stylish and sometimes a bit effortful, edging just under the note, but he is just about competent. The trouble is, much better tenors like Corelli ring in the ears.
Of course, Gencer is wonderful; she, too, has an inimitable tone: rich, flexible, with a little glottal catch in it which is always suggestive of tears and the audience clearly approves. She is matched by Simionato whose powerful mezzo negotiates Adalgisa’s music easily even if she sounds too smoky, stentorian and sophisticated for the role. Their partnership will appeal to many, Gavazzeni allows them to linger over the cantilena passages in their duets and their voices blend and entwine deliciously. However, there are some intonation issues there, too, and other recordings offer a more completely satisfying experience.
Silvio Varviso - 1967 (studio stereo) Decca Eloquence
Orchestra - Santa Cecilia
Chorus - Santa Cecilia
Norma - Elena Souliotis
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Mario Del Monaco
Oroveso - Carlo Cava
Clotilde - Giuliana Tavolaccini
Flavio - Athos Cesarini
My own copy of this 2CD set was expertly and privately re-mastered for personal use and not as a commercial issue, but this Decca recording has now once more become available to both lovers of the opera and of Elena Souliotis (spelled “Suliotis” in her earliest public incarnation), whose career and indeed life were both sadly curtailed; she died of heart failure aged 61 having long previously retired.
I am indebted to my skilled amateur sound engineer friend who provided me with the CDs for the following information: originally released in 1968, it was one of the last LPs to be issued in both mono and stereo versions, although the latter was available only in the US, on the London label. It remained available through the early 70's after only one pressing batch and then disappeared, apart from the highlight’s discs on both Decca and London.
In fact even that "complete" recording was not: in order to fit it onto four LP sides rather than the normal six, the producers opted to trim it by adopting the regular, small stage cuts and some of what must admittedly be adjudged the more banal music, such as the first rum-ti-tum Druid march before "Casta diva", which is in any case repeated later, some cabaletta repeats, an internal cut in "Qual cor tradisti, qual cor perdesti" and, more substantially, the whole first scene of Act II, "Ah! del Tebro". This reduces the role of the chorus and considerably shortens Oroveso's part to that of an "extended comprimario". It is strongly sung by Carlo Cava but the reduction in his music is no great loss and what remains is priceless: three great voices giving it their all. For me, as so often in this opera, the highlight is the extended trio at the climax concluding Act I; we shall not again hear three voices like theirs singing out with such wild abandon.
Del Monaco was in his early fifties when this recording was made and beginning to slide in his attack on top notes but still in typically marvellous, trumpeting voice, even if he may be heard to greater advantage in live recordings with Callas in the mid 1950's.
Souliotis' good fortune was to arrive on the operatic scene just as Callas' star was dimming; her mistake was to attempt and give too much too soon. Only 24 at the time - under half her tenor's age - she clearly lacks a finished technique: the registers are disjointed, and she sometimes resorts to a strange, disembodied and unsupported crooning when trying to sing high-flying passages softly, as in "teneri figli", and yet it is too easy to carp when so much else is simply wonderful. I find that her voice exercises a strange fascination, it is such an individual instrument. Comparisons with Callas are inevitable, not to the detriment of either singer, but because both have such a gift for enlivening and declaiming text and both make such telling use of their trenchant lower registers at such points as in her recitative before "Casta diva" on "Romani" and "morra", and "ed odio" at the beginning of Act II. Vocal production can be lumpy and vibrations fluttery, yet she can cope with the fioriture of "Ah! bello a me ritorna" and the sheer size of the instrument matches that of her fellow singers. We are blessed in the presence of the young Fiorenza Cossotto in one of her most celebrated roles, which she sang alongside Callas; she is simply flawless, easily encompassing the wide tessitura of Adalgisa's part and absolutely thrilling when singing her duet with Del Monaco.
The recording is excellent, made in a big, broad acoustic rather than the over-miked sound we hear too often today which is presumably engineered to compensate for voices being too small. Varviso's conducting is wonderfully energised; he takes quite a few passages a little faster than is normal - for example, the glorious harmonised-in-thirds music whose soft tread accompanies Adalgisa's first entrance - but he also knows when to relax and give his singers space - and sometimes Souliotis evidently really needs it simply to get the notes out; this is one of the killer roles of all opera. This was, Souliotis apart, an all-Italian production and it is infused with dramatic energy. The cuts mean it cannot be a first recommendation, but I love it.
Richard Bonynge – 1969 (live mono) Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - Teatro Colón (Buenos Aires)
Chorus - Teatro Colón (Buenos Aires)
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Charles Craig
Oroveso - Ivo Vinco
Clotilde - Tatiana Zlatar
Flavio - Orazio (Horacio) Mastrango
This set is a terrific bargain; not only do you get the finest of extant recordings, live and studio, of Sutherland's Norma but you get it in excellent sound and with a superb supporting cast. Sutherland sounds both more vocally "released" and more profound in characterisation; I think the process of studio recording and the difficulties inherent in capturing her vast voice inhibited her and here you can hear her let rip free of constraint. That's just as well, because in 1969 the stentorian Cossotto is just entering upon her default grandstanding mode of singing everything con gusto - great for Amneris but hardly apt for the passive, suffering Adalgisa. Still, her singing as vocalisation per se is thrilling, even if her audible gasps of breath intake, her "life begins at forte" approach and the way she signals then pounces on a high note can all be distracting mannerisms; she was obviously intent upon avoiding being upstaged by Sutherland and takes every opportunity to plunge thunderously into her lower register and belt out the B's to match Sutherland's higher top notes, even when it's not very musical. Meanwhile, Sutherland's coloratura is perfect, better than in any other account of hers I have heard; this, combined with that greater depth of feeling, makes this performance her best.
Bonynge, too, sounds more relaxed and pliant, yet also energised, in this live performance. He has the advantage of first-rate singers even if the Colon orchestra is not always sweetly tuned. While Corelli will always be my benchmark for Pollione, the under-rated and under-valued (in the UK, at least) Charles Craig runs him close, a little scooping and the occasional hard top note apart. He sounds like a great tenor - which I think he must have been. Cossotto's then husband, Ivo Vinco, makes a great job of Oroveso; he had a beautiful, Italianate bass with plenty of bite and rises to the company he is in on stage.
I still return to the 1960 Callas recording for the ultimate Norma, but this one preserves the miracle that was Sutherland's Norma without your having to compromise on the performance as a whole, as everything else is so good. Audience noise is minimal except for vociferous applause. I suspect that either the transfer or the original tape is slightly sharp, but it doesn't bother me. The sound is good, clear mono – so full that at first, I thought it was primitive stereo.
NB: be aware that a faulty copying process resulted in earlier Opera d’Oro issues of this recording suffering from two faults: unwanted gaps between tracks when the music was supposed to be continuous and a transfer a whole tone too high; this was apparently a flaw peculiar to a particular batch, now mostly corrected apart from the minimal sharpness I note above, so check that you have one of the later issues if you buy it.
Oliviero De Fabritiis – 1971 (live stereo)
Orchestra - NHK Symphony Orchestra
Chorus - Chorus
Norma - Elena Souliotis
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Gianfranco Cecchele
Oroveso - Ivo Vinco
Clotilde - Anna Di Stasio
Flavio - Franco Castellana
For fans of Souliotis and the opera in question, the main advantage of this live recording over the abridged studio recording she made four years earlier lies in the fact that it delivers the whole score and Souliotis is, if anything, in marginally more secure voice despite all her failings and frailties and the fact that her career was virtually over a mere couple of years later.
It is still a Marmite voice; listening to proceedings here I felt like a shuttlecock battered between two extremes of delight and frustration. At times the intensity of Souliotis' singing is mesmerising; sample the opening of Act II from the recitativo "Dormono entrambi" through to "Teneri figli". Yet I advise no-one to listen to the first minute of track 21, CD1, "Ah sì, fa core, m'abbracciami" unless you want to hear some really poor and squally singing from our wayward heroine. There are perhaps too many ugly moments for repeated listening but to offset that, there are also many moments when she sounds uncannily like Callas and plumbs the same emotional depths. Hers was a huge, commanding voice with a pronounced break between the registers which, again like Callas, she exploits for great emotional effect. Sometimes her fioriture are clean, sometimes sloppy and laboured; at certain key points she sings precisely and at others she sounds laboured and unwieldy - all over the place but always so committed. Her tone can be hoarse and harsh, yet again sweet and pure, depending on where she is in the score and she invariably sings in tune. It makes for a thrilling ride.
It helps that she is accompanied by a distinguished cast, headed by the great Fiorenza Cossotto, repeating a role which was her mainstay throughout the 60's and 70's with a host of prime donne from Callas to Sutherland to Caballé. She is extraordinary; at the point referred to above at the end of Act I when Souliotis fouls up, she repeats the same musical phrases immaculately like a singing lesson. Her top notes tend to be better, too, although to be fair the best of the singing here is in the duets when Souliotis is on song; "Mira, o Norma" is exquisite. To complete this trio of can belto singers we have baritonal tenor Gianfranco Cecchele, singing in a wholly reliable, stentorian and unvaried manner, rather like a slightly sub-par Mario del Monaco at his best. I don't mean to be snide; he's very good and had the misfortune to be overshadowed by a glut of great Italian tenors in his day. He is sometimes a bit clumsy but prolific of voice and a match for his ladies.
Ivo Vinco makes a fine job of Oroveso - always a bit of a bore - with his clean, incisive bass. The La Scala forces under de Fabritiis - a conductor very experienced in this opera - are excellent here in Tokyo. Unfamiliarity with operatic conventions results in some ill-timed audience applause which is increasingly edited out at the opera progresses, but the stereo sound is really first rate for a live recording and there is otherwise virtually no noise from the audience.
Richard Bonynge – 1972 (live mono) Gala
Orchestra - San Francisco Opera
Chorus - San Francisco Opera
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Huguette Tourangeau
Pollione - John Alexander
Oroveso - Clifford Grant
Clotilde - Gwendolyn Jones
Flavio - Erik Townsend
Flavio - Orazio (Horacio) Mastrango
This set is a terrific bargain; not only do you get the finest of extant recordings, live and studio, of Sutherland's Norma but you get it in excellent sound and with a superb supporting cast. Sutherland sounds both more vocally "released" and more profound in characterisation; I think the process of studio recording and the difficulties inherent in capturing her vast voice inhibited her and here you can hear her let rip free of constraint. That's just as well, because in 1969 the stentorian Cossotto is just entering upon her default grandstanding mode of singing everything con gusto - great for Amneris but hardly apt for the passive, suffering Adalgisa. Still, her singing as vocalisation per se is thrilling, even if her audible gasps of breath intake, her "life begins at forte" approach and the way she signals then pounces on a high note can all be distracting mannerisms; she was obviously intent upon avoiding being upstaged by Sutherland and takes every opportunity to plunge thunderously into her lower register and belt out the B's to match Sutherland's higher top notes, even when it's not very musical. Meanwhile, Sutherland's coloratura is perfect, better than in any other account of hers I have heard; this, combined with that greater depth of feeling, makes this performance her best.
Bonynge, too, sounds more relaxed and pliant, yet also energised, in this live performance. He has the advantage of first-rate singers even if the Colon orchestra is not always sweetly tuned. While Corelli will always be my benchmark for Pollione, the under-rated and under-valued (in the UK, at least) Charles Craig runs him close, a little scooping and the occasional hard top note apart. He sounds like a great tenor - which I think he must have been. Cossotto's then husband, Ivo Vinco, makes a great job of Oroveso; he had a beautiful, Italianate bass with plenty of bite and rises to the company he is in on stage.
I still return to the 1960 Callas recording for the ultimate Norma, but this one preserves the miracle that was Sutherland's Norma without your having to compromise on the performance as a whole, as everything else is so good. Audience noise is minimal except for vociferous applause. I suspect that either the transfer or the original tape is slightly sharp, but it doesn't bother me. The sound is good, clear mono – so full that at first, I thought it was primitive stereo.
NB: be aware that a faulty copying process resulted in earlier Opera d’Oro issues of this recording suffering from two faults: unwanted gaps between tracks when the music was supposed to be continuous and a transfer a whole tone too high; this was apparently a flaw peculiar to a particular batch, now mostly corrected apart from the minimal sharpness I note above, so check that you have one of the later issues if you buy it.
Oliviero De Fabritiis – 1971 (live stereo)
Orchestra - NHK Symphony Orchestra
Chorus - Chorus
Norma - Elena Souliotis
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Gianfranco Cecchele
Oroveso - Ivo Vinco
Clotilde - Anna Di Stasio
Flavio - Franco Castellana
For fans of Souliotis and the opera in question, the main advantage of this live recording over the abridged studio recording she made four years earlier lies in the fact that it delivers the whole score and Souliotis is, if anything, in marginally more secure voice despite all her failings and frailties and the fact that her career was virtually over a mere couple of years later.
It is still a Marmite voice; listening to proceedings here I felt like a shuttlecock battered between two extremes of delight and frustration. At times the intensity of Souliotis' singing is mesmerising; sample the opening of Act II from the recitativo "Dormono entrambi" through to "Teneri figli". Yet I advise no-one to listen to the first minute of track 21, CD1, "Ah sì, fa core, m'abbracciami" unless you want to hear some really poor and squally singing from our wayward heroine. There are perhaps too many ugly moments for repeated listening but to offset that, there are also many moments when she sounds uncannily like Callas and plumbs the same emotional depths. Hers was a huge, commanding voice with a pronounced break between the registers which, again like Callas, she exploits for great emotional effect. Sometimes her fioriture are clean, sometimes sloppy and laboured; at certain key points she sings precisely and at others she sounds laboured and unwieldy - all over the place but always so committed. Her tone can be hoarse and harsh, yet again sweet and pure, depending on where she is in the score and she invariably sings in tune. It makes for a thrilling ride.
It helps that she is accompanied by a distinguished cast, headed by the great Fiorenza Cossotto, repeating a role which was her mainstay throughout the 60's and 70's with a host of prime donne from Callas to Sutherland to Caballé. She is extraordinary; at the point referred to above at the end of Act I when Souliotis fouls up, she repeats the same musical phrases immaculately like a singing lesson. Her top notes tend to be better, too, although to be fair the best of the singing here is in the duets when Souliotis is on song; "Mira, o Norma" is exquisite. To complete this trio of can belto singers we have baritonal tenor Gianfranco Cecchele, singing in a wholly reliable, stentorian and unvaried manner, rather like a slightly sub-par Mario del Monaco at his best. I don't mean to be snide; he's very good and had the misfortune to be overshadowed by a glut of great Italian tenors in his day. He is sometimes a bit clumsy but prolific of voice and a match for his ladies.
Ivo Vinco makes a fine job of Oroveso - always a bit of a bore - with his clean, incisive bass. The La Scala forces under de Fabritiis - a conductor very experienced in this opera - are excellent here in Tokyo. Unfamiliarity with operatic conventions results in some ill-timed audience applause which is increasingly edited out at the opera progresses, but the stereo sound is really first rate for a live recording and there is otherwise virtually no noise from the audience.
Richard Bonynge – 1972 (live mono) Gala
Orchestra - San Francisco Opera
Chorus - San Francisco Opera
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Huguette Tourangeau
Pollione - John Alexander
Oroveso - Clifford Grant
Clotilde - Gwendolyn Jones
Flavio - Erik Townsend
There are several great live performances of Norma to
be found on the Gala label. None of them is, in my view, preferable to the
later Callas studio recording, but they are excellent second or supplementary
sets. A preference very much depends upon the kind of voices you like; I admire
Sutherland enormously and here she is found at her very peak, singing superbly
in the higher keys rather than the versions transposed down a tone as preferred
by most singers who undertake this cruelly taxing role. She is here partnered
by first rate singers - not the usual suspects but they are wholly up to the
demands of their roles. John Alexander sings better than I have ever heard him
elsewhere (including the studio version of ten years earlier); he has real
steel in his voice. Tourangeau employs her impressive range and booming lower
register to characterise Adalgisa formidably without making her seem matronly;
she makes some rather grinding gear changes between registers, but it is
nonetheless an exciting sound - and she matches Sutherland note for note in the
passages sung in thirds, complete with a great top C. I always enjoy Clifford
Grant’s splendid bass. The sound is not that wonderful for so comparatively
recent a recording - a bit boxy and limited - but it is perfectly listenable.
This set is available ridiculously cheaply and commemorates what was obviously
a great occasion at the San Francisco opera.
Carlo Felice Cillario – 1972 (studio stereo) RCA
Orchestra - London Philharmonic Orchestra
Chorus - Ambrosian Opera Chorus
Norma - Montserrat Caballé
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Plácido Domingo
Oroveso - Ruggero Raimondi
Clotilde - Elizabeth Bainbridge
Flavio - Kenneth Collins
This is a complete recording of Norma, without the usual stage cuts which disfigure most other recordings including all of those featuring the singer who is for many the ultimate High Priestess, Maria Callas. The cuts are not large but for completists that is recommendation enough, especially given the starry nature of the 1973 cast.
However, the singing per se is good enough reason to acquire it, even if there is for me some small taint of the assembly line approach to recording which could afflict the industry in its heyday, when complete recordings were being churned out with gay abandon to a receptive and increasingly affluent LP market. There is no doubt, for example that there is more excitement, glamour and allure to be found in Caballé's live recording a year or so later when she faces down the Mistral in Orange, partnered by Jon Vickers, but the sound there is nowhere near as good, of course and as a studio recording this one could hardly sound better for its era. It is on three CDs when it could have been fitted on to two, has been well remastered and comes with a libretto which for some reason ascribes four Acts to the opera (it has but two) and gets confused about the scene numbers; never mind.
Not everything about Caballé's singing is ideal, she can sound generalised compared with Callas' exquisitely subtle and thrillingly dramatic word-painting and when she sings forcefully her tone can turn harsh and some of those irritating little glottal catches intrude, but of course her floated, soft singing is a dream. Domingo is in youthful, sappy voice, only just squeezing out his one top C in his opening aria but otherwise very acceptable, if hardly as visceral as Corelli or Del Monaco. Cossotto as Adalgisa consciously and effectively softens her naturally big, brazen tone in order to convey her naivety and vulnerability; she blends well with her co-star in those vital duets, although in "Opera on Record", reviewer Andrew Porter waspishly but not entirely inaccurately describes their partnership as the sound of "two big, healthy girls jogging along in full, splendid cry"! Raimondi is a fine Oroveso, a little lighter than the usual bass in that role but affecting and authoritative. The two British supporting singers are ideal, especially Kenneth Collins as Flavio, who was a celebrated tenor in his own right.
Cillario's conducting is unobtrusive and he gives his singers space to bring out the beauty of Bellini's long, legato line. The Ambrosian Chorus - ubiquitous in major label recordings for twenty years from the mid-sixties onwards - do their usual impeccable job.
James Levine – 1973 (studio stereo) Deutsche Grammophon
Orchestra - New Philharmonia Orchestra
Chorus - John Alldis Choir
Norma - Beverly Sills
Adalgisa - Shirley Verrett
Pollione - Enrico Di Giuseppe
Oroveso - Paul Plishka
Clotilde - Delia Wallis
Flavio - Robert Tear
Sills comments about some parts of the role “making her want to giggle” might suggest too lightweight and flippant an approach to it; furthermore, her decision to sing her arias, like Sutherland, in the original higher keys and to adopt very slow tempos, in combination with bird-like timbre of her lyric coloratura soprano means that to some ears she will sound all wrong as Norma. The slight beat in her voice is not too pronounced and does not bother me, especially as she sings so intelligently. Despite not having the largest voice, she sang the role live successfully – she, too was very instrumental in the bel canto revival - and displays exceptional breath control and agility, even if she has little of the gravitas Sutherland brings to her portrayal; her forte is melancholy and pathos. It helps that she is partnered with Shirley Verrett, who, like fellow mezzo Grace Bumbry, eventually sang the title role herself when she moved up into dramatic soprano roles, and has a nicely contrasting sound which nonetheless blends well.
I cannot help feeling that those very slow tempi are rather laboured and self-conscious and prevent the music from generating sufficient drama and momentum, for all that the singing per se is lovely and it is a pleasure to hear singers whose intonation is so accurate; so often it can be hit and miss in Norma. However, the pace picks up in duets like “Si, fino all’ore”, sung in the original F major rather than a tone down as we usually hear it; Verrett copes well with that higher key but brings a grave, steady beauty to her own arias, again delivered at a slow tempo. In truth, the more I listen to them, the more I enjoy luxuriating in the sheer beauty of their sound, but I can’t really defend Levine’s leisureliness which at times becomes lugubriousness.
On the staff side, the casting is less impressive. Enrico Di Giuseppe has a smaller, lighter tenor than we have become accustomed to, even though he is probably closer to what Bellini would have heard. His low notes are weak and his plaintive, nasal timbre is of no great distinction. Paul Plishka is much better, but he hasn’t the rolling splendour of the best Italian basses.
The sound is excellent and the New Philharmonia plays elegantly. Sills fans will want this for her exquisite singing, but she does not scale the tragic heights as do the greatest exponents of the role and the ensemble does not match the best recordings.
Giuseppe Patanè – 1974 (live mono) Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - Teatro Regio di Torino
Chorus - Teatro Regio di Torino
Norma - Montserrat Caballé
Adalgisa - Josephine Veasey
Pollione - Jon Vickers
Oroveso - Agostino Ferrin
Clotilde - Marisa Zotti
Flavio - Gino Sinimberghi
OK; let's be positive and start with the good news: this enshrines the most wondrous performance of Caballé's career. Her melismata, breath control, diction, downward runs and sheer beauty of tone are indeed things of wonder. Something about the prospect of cancellation, once the Mistral began to whip down the Rhone valley, inspired her to become one with the elements and deliver an elemental interpretation. The gale chilled the audience and audibly buffets the microphones. You may see Caballé on the video (either on YouTube or you may buy the poor-quality DVD), standing immobile and braced against the wind, yards of chiffon billowing behind her and singing as if she were in the comparative comfort of a recording studio but upping the intensity and volume of her voice as if to defy the wind to carry her voce away. Her legendary floated pianissimi are often in evidence yet always audible; her delicacy is breath-taking yet there is power aplenty when she furiously denounces the faithless Pollione. This is nonetheless a gentler, more feminine Norma than Callas gives us; on these discs the scene in which she briefly contemplates stabbing her own children is cut but I believe it is extant on the filmed version. However, I also recall reading that it was sometimes excised from her performances of Norma because she played the kind of woman who could not conceivably contemplate committing such a dreadful act; be that as it may, this is a characterisation for posterity. Her interpretation is complemented by a powerful, virile, but somehow likeable Pollione from Vickers. He does not take the thrilling top note options like Corelli but comes across as less of a thoughtless cad. The ever-under-rated Josephine Veasey is a plausible and musical Adalgisa, and the supporting cast is fine. Conductor Patanè performs the near impossible feat under the conditions of mostly keeping it all together despite a few disjunctures between orchestra and singers and he never lets proceedings drag.
So, the bad news? Mostly the cut mentioned above and above all the hollow mono sound, of course: it sounds for much of the time as if the singers are in a wind tunnel. The boomy, echoing acoustic is not just the result of the performance taking place in the Orange amphitheatre; it's just done on poor equipment. (Opera d'Oro gives the location of this recording as being Torino; of course, it isn't but that is the origin of the orchestra and chorus.)
This isn't one for audiophiles or opera neophytes, but all canary-fanciers will want to own it.
Carlo Felice Cillario – 1975 (live mono) Gala
Orchestra - San Francisco Opera
Chorus - San Francisco Opera
Norma - Cristina Deutekom
Adalgisa - Tatiana Troyanos
Pollione - Robleto Merolla
Oroveso - Clifford Grant
Clotilde - Janice Felty
Flavio - Gary Burgess
Tempted into trying this by some enthusiastic reviews, I find my own enthusiasm for it to be tempered by some drawbacks which its admirers seem not to hear or remain untroubled by. The main issue here for me is Deutekom's tuning. She has a surprisingly strong powerful voice for a singer who was a famous coloratura and sang lyric roles such as the Queen of the Night to great acclaim (as per her account in Solti's earlier Magic Flute), especially in her lower register. She attacks the music with real confidence and vigour. The warbling vibrato which bothers many is not too obtrusive here but there is an odd change of gear in her vocal production as the voice ascends and in the mid-range the vibrato seems to be permanently centred under the note to produce an effect decidedly flat - and I'm afraid I find it painful to listen to for all her accomplishment. Indeed, in the famous duet with Adalgisa in which the singers shadow each other in thirds Deutekom pulls Troyanos down with her to end very flat indeed, nearer a B than the tonic C. That's a negligible flaw in a live performance but again makes for uncomfortable listening. I admire so much that Deutekom does: the delicacy and poise of her soft singing and the clarity of her divisions - but I cannot get over her intonation.
Troyanos' velvety sound is a real bonus; what a lovely singer she was, and here she is more impassioned than was sometimes the case with an artist who could be temperamentally cool. The other vocal treat here is Clifford Grant's rich, flexible bass with its distinctive timbre.
The Pollione - a second rank tenor now largely forgotten - is a crude, unsteady belter without much tonal allure and an effortful production; too many better tenors come to mind when he is pounding away: Corelli, Del Monaco, Vickers, even Charles Craig and John Alexander.
The sound is tolerable mono, perfectly listenable without too much distortion and some wibbling background noise/print-through on the tape. The conducting is unexceptional/unexceptionable and workmanlike without subtlety. Not for me; I offloaded this one.
Michael Halász – 1977 (live mono) Dynamic
Orchestra - Orchestra Sinfonica di Bari
Chorus - Amici della Polifonia - Voce per la Musica
Norma - Grace Bumbry
Adalgisa - Lella Cuberli
Pollione - Giuseppe Giacomini
Oroveso - Robert Lloyd
Clotilde - Eugenia Cardano
Flavio - Paolo Todisco
The mono sound here is rather hollow, with some wavering, background twittering and drop-outs in the tape, but it’s tolerable.
Obviously, the main interest here is Grace Bumbry’s brief assumption of the title role in her dramatic soprano phase; she soon reverted to Adalgisa, but the first impression we receive is of Robert Lloyd’s sonorous, strongly sung Oroveso. The under-recorded Giacomini, too, makes an impact with his large, bronze tenor; he is a singer to revival Corelli for amplitude of tone, but he eschews some top notes and can be rather unvarying in his delivery, rarely attempting beneath mezzo-forte. Lella Cuberli sings a capable Adalgisa of no great distinction.
Ensemble and synchronisation among the soloists and chorus can be precarious, the orchestra has its share of rough moments and bloopers and Halász’ conducting is rather stolid and uninspired. Despite some lovely moments from Bumbry, such as the last scene where the lie of the music, as in “In mia man”, most suits the darker colour of the centre of her voice, one gets the impression that she hasn’t fully digested the part (her coeval and possessor of a similar voice-type, Shirley Verrett, made the transition more successfully). There is no question whether Bumbry has enough voice; she sings a strong, direct, rather formidable Norma mostly without great nuance and occasionally her vibrato becomes obtrusive. Ultimately, this performance emerges more as an enjoyable sideshow of historical interest compared with the most gripping competition.
Riccardo Muti – 1978 (live mono) Myto, Legato Classics
Orchestra - Teatro Communale di Firenze
Chorus - Teatro Communale di Firenze
Norma - Renata Scotto
Adalgisa - Margherita Rinaldi
Pollione - Ermanno Mauro
Oroveso - Agostino Ferrin
Clotilde - Giuseppina Arista
Flavio - Giancarlo Turati
In good, clean, if limited, mono sound (but a muttering prompter is constantly audible) this recording immediately makes a good impression with an energised overture followed by the entry of Ferrin’s imposing bass. Ermanno Mauro will be no-one’s favourite Pollione; he is similar to Prevedi above in that he is rather stentorian and unvaried, without finesse but able to encompass the notes - and to his credit he takes the top C in his opening aria powerfully, head on – then ducks the concluding top note in “Meco all’altar”. Scotto is in vibrant voice – better than in her studio recording for Levine the following year – always tending towards the harsh and flapping at volume above the stave but also enlivening the text and singing out fearlessly. Some of her coloratura work is impressive and she also produces some lovely pianissimo and portamento effects to rival Caballé. I find her arty, artful manner in “Casta diva” too close to crooning, however, and there is a suspicion of her being under the note throughout as a result of the lack of support in her tone. Rinaldi’s lyric soprano in insufficiently differentiated from Scotto’s - there is a reason why the role is usually given to a mezzo even though the indications are that Giulia Grisi, who created it, was a lyric soprano – but she sings most feelingly, sounds more like a young girl than many a tough mezzo, and there are some interesting moments when her voice soars above Scotto’s as per the original score. This recording contains some lovely things but ultimately emerges as a bit anonymous, lacking the charisma and distinction of the best versions.
Paolo Peloso – 1978 (live mono) Gala
Orchestra - San Francisco Opera
Chorus - San Francisco Opera
Norma - Shirley Verrett
Adalgisa - Alexandrina Milcheva(-Nonova)
Pollione - Nunzio Todisco
Oroveso - Clifford Grant
Clotilde - Gwendolyn Jones
Flavio - Barry Busse
As you might expect, given that she had a voice that could sing practically anything, Shirley Verrett makes a strong, positive Norma and here she sings out confidently in live performance – no fudging or nudging but every note hit head on and cleanly articulated, although don’t look for much vocal nuance in the form of anything floated or piano. Her range is extraordinary: she has a secure top C, her lower register has a Callas-like bite, and she enunciates the text clearly - but with a peculiar tendency to distort the “e” vowel, turning it into an “I”, so “queste” becomes “quiste” and “terra” is “tirra”. In many respects, she is similar to her great Afro-American, mezzo-soprano coeval Grace Bumbry, who made the same upward transition but wisely abandoned the role much sooner than Verrett, who is more comfortable there and kept it in her repertoire from 1976 right towards the end of her career., singing it for the last time in Messina in 1989.
Her co-singers make a surprisingly strong team, given that they do not feature the biggest names. Booming Australian bass Clifford Grant is superb – as he is in virtually everything, I have heard him in. The young Bulgarian Alexandrina Milcheva is equally excellent, with a warm, rich, even mezzo, ringing top notes and a timbre reminiscent of Tatiana Troyanos. She blends well with Verrett; it’s a pity that they go flat in the a cappella coda to “Oh! rimembranza!”
Pollione is sung by the Neapolitan tenor Nunzio Tedesco, a singer unknown to me, now retired and apparently largely forgotten today but he had a good career, He has a strong, incisive tenor of the Bonisolli type and is never in danger of being drowned out by Verrett’s voluminous soprano falcon/sfogato. His vibrato is rather too pronounced but the volume and firmness of tone are welcome, even if, in line with this performance as a whole, refinements are few.
I really like the contribution of conductor Paolo Pelosi – again, an artist previously unknown to me - he does everything right, giving his singers rein when they need it but always driving the performance forward.
This is a grand, large-scale performance which deserves wider circulation. It’s not subtle and the sound is merely acceptable, but it enshrines some great singing.
James Levine – 1979 (studio stereo) Sony
Orchestra - National Philharmonic Orchestra
Chorus - Ambrosian Opera Chorus
Norma - Renata Scotto
Adalgisa - Tatiana Troyanos
Pollione - Giuseppe Giacomini
Oroveso - Paul Plishka
Clotilde - Ann Murray
Flavio - Paul Crook
This recording is promising in many ways: it restores many cuts, including passages where Adalgisa’s line is higher than Norma’s, the original ending to the first Act and some additional music in the famous duet “Mira, O Norma”; it is studio-made and in excellent stereo sound; it fields a superb orchestra and chorus; its distinguished cast of singers includes favourite, velvety mezzo Troyanos and the under-recorded Giacomini; finally, it is conducted by a young James Levine in typically energised, up-and-at-’em mode, giving full rein to the proto-Romantic sweep of the music but less inclined to wallow than in his other studio recording six years earlier with Sills.
Plishka, too, is more resonant and imposing than for Levine in that earlier recording and his Italian is excellent, even if a slight cloudiness in his tone is not so “Italianate”. Giacomini, too, doesn’t have the squillo ideally heard in a Pollione, but his hefty tenor is big and handsome without a hint of bleat or wobble and an attractively fast, flickering vibrato; he makes a good job of his opening aria, whacking out a slightly effortful but convincing top C and sounding like a proper military Roman, not the potboy we sometimes get from weedier tenors. His vocal production does not lend itself to great tonal variety but it’s still a pleasure to listen to such a virile sound; the contrast when tenor Paul Crook squeakily announces Norma’s arrival is comical.
Troyanos is ideal as Adalgisa because although her mezzo-soprano is rich and honeyed, the Supervialike fast vibrato makes her sound young, nervous and vulnerable, not a vengeful termagant. She a mellow lower register but a light, easy top range, enabling her to encompass those aforementioned higher-lying lines. You might have noticed that I have left my assessment of Scotto to last. As ever, you can hear how much she consciously or unconsciously modelled her Norma on Callas. There is a lot of edge and glottal catch in her tonal emission which can catch both the microphone and the ear ungratefully and, as ever, top notes spread, but the floated pianissimi are intact, and her passion and commitment are never in doubt. “Casta diva” is decidedly better than in her live recording under Muti from the previous year but the pulsed and squeezed sustained top A is frankly ugly and the cabaletta, transposed down a tone, is clumsy, especially from a singer who previously specialised in coloratura roles. She improves after that but there are still some harsh and squally moments.
If the central performance were more consistent, this would be a more recommendable option.
Richard Bonynge – 1984 (studio stereo) Decca
Orchestra - Welsh National Opera
Chorus - Welsh National Opera
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Montserrat Caballé
Pollione - Luciano Pavarotti
Oroveso - Samuel Ramey
Clotilde - Diana Montague
Flavio - Kim Begley
Carlo Felice Cillario – 1972 (studio stereo) RCA
Orchestra - London Philharmonic Orchestra
Chorus - Ambrosian Opera Chorus
Norma - Montserrat Caballé
Adalgisa - Fiorenza Cossotto
Pollione - Plácido Domingo
Oroveso - Ruggero Raimondi
Clotilde - Elizabeth Bainbridge
Flavio - Kenneth Collins
This is a complete recording of Norma, without the usual stage cuts which disfigure most other recordings including all of those featuring the singer who is for many the ultimate High Priestess, Maria Callas. The cuts are not large but for completists that is recommendation enough, especially given the starry nature of the 1973 cast.
However, the singing per se is good enough reason to acquire it, even if there is for me some small taint of the assembly line approach to recording which could afflict the industry in its heyday, when complete recordings were being churned out with gay abandon to a receptive and increasingly affluent LP market. There is no doubt, for example that there is more excitement, glamour and allure to be found in Caballé's live recording a year or so later when she faces down the Mistral in Orange, partnered by Jon Vickers, but the sound there is nowhere near as good, of course and as a studio recording this one could hardly sound better for its era. It is on three CDs when it could have been fitted on to two, has been well remastered and comes with a libretto which for some reason ascribes four Acts to the opera (it has but two) and gets confused about the scene numbers; never mind.
Not everything about Caballé's singing is ideal, she can sound generalised compared with Callas' exquisitely subtle and thrillingly dramatic word-painting and when she sings forcefully her tone can turn harsh and some of those irritating little glottal catches intrude, but of course her floated, soft singing is a dream. Domingo is in youthful, sappy voice, only just squeezing out his one top C in his opening aria but otherwise very acceptable, if hardly as visceral as Corelli or Del Monaco. Cossotto as Adalgisa consciously and effectively softens her naturally big, brazen tone in order to convey her naivety and vulnerability; she blends well with her co-star in those vital duets, although in "Opera on Record", reviewer Andrew Porter waspishly but not entirely inaccurately describes their partnership as the sound of "two big, healthy girls jogging along in full, splendid cry"! Raimondi is a fine Oroveso, a little lighter than the usual bass in that role but affecting and authoritative. The two British supporting singers are ideal, especially Kenneth Collins as Flavio, who was a celebrated tenor in his own right.
Cillario's conducting is unobtrusive and he gives his singers space to bring out the beauty of Bellini's long, legato line. The Ambrosian Chorus - ubiquitous in major label recordings for twenty years from the mid-sixties onwards - do their usual impeccable job.
James Levine – 1973 (studio stereo) Deutsche Grammophon
Orchestra - New Philharmonia Orchestra
Chorus - John Alldis Choir
Norma - Beverly Sills
Adalgisa - Shirley Verrett
Pollione - Enrico Di Giuseppe
Oroveso - Paul Plishka
Clotilde - Delia Wallis
Flavio - Robert Tear
Sills comments about some parts of the role “making her want to giggle” might suggest too lightweight and flippant an approach to it; furthermore, her decision to sing her arias, like Sutherland, in the original higher keys and to adopt very slow tempos, in combination with bird-like timbre of her lyric coloratura soprano means that to some ears she will sound all wrong as Norma. The slight beat in her voice is not too pronounced and does not bother me, especially as she sings so intelligently. Despite not having the largest voice, she sang the role live successfully – she, too was very instrumental in the bel canto revival - and displays exceptional breath control and agility, even if she has little of the gravitas Sutherland brings to her portrayal; her forte is melancholy and pathos. It helps that she is partnered with Shirley Verrett, who, like fellow mezzo Grace Bumbry, eventually sang the title role herself when she moved up into dramatic soprano roles, and has a nicely contrasting sound which nonetheless blends well.
I cannot help feeling that those very slow tempi are rather laboured and self-conscious and prevent the music from generating sufficient drama and momentum, for all that the singing per se is lovely and it is a pleasure to hear singers whose intonation is so accurate; so often it can be hit and miss in Norma. However, the pace picks up in duets like “Si, fino all’ore”, sung in the original F major rather than a tone down as we usually hear it; Verrett copes well with that higher key but brings a grave, steady beauty to her own arias, again delivered at a slow tempo. In truth, the more I listen to them, the more I enjoy luxuriating in the sheer beauty of their sound, but I can’t really defend Levine’s leisureliness which at times becomes lugubriousness.
On the staff side, the casting is less impressive. Enrico Di Giuseppe has a smaller, lighter tenor than we have become accustomed to, even though he is probably closer to what Bellini would have heard. His low notes are weak and his plaintive, nasal timbre is of no great distinction. Paul Plishka is much better, but he hasn’t the rolling splendour of the best Italian basses.
The sound is excellent and the New Philharmonia plays elegantly. Sills fans will want this for her exquisite singing, but she does not scale the tragic heights as do the greatest exponents of the role and the ensemble does not match the best recordings.
Giuseppe Patanè – 1974 (live mono) Opera d’Oro
Orchestra - Teatro Regio di Torino
Chorus - Teatro Regio di Torino
Norma - Montserrat Caballé
Adalgisa - Josephine Veasey
Pollione - Jon Vickers
Oroveso - Agostino Ferrin
Clotilde - Marisa Zotti
Flavio - Gino Sinimberghi
OK; let's be positive and start with the good news: this enshrines the most wondrous performance of Caballé's career. Her melismata, breath control, diction, downward runs and sheer beauty of tone are indeed things of wonder. Something about the prospect of cancellation, once the Mistral began to whip down the Rhone valley, inspired her to become one with the elements and deliver an elemental interpretation. The gale chilled the audience and audibly buffets the microphones. You may see Caballé on the video (either on YouTube or you may buy the poor-quality DVD), standing immobile and braced against the wind, yards of chiffon billowing behind her and singing as if she were in the comparative comfort of a recording studio but upping the intensity and volume of her voice as if to defy the wind to carry her voce away. Her legendary floated pianissimi are often in evidence yet always audible; her delicacy is breath-taking yet there is power aplenty when she furiously denounces the faithless Pollione. This is nonetheless a gentler, more feminine Norma than Callas gives us; on these discs the scene in which she briefly contemplates stabbing her own children is cut but I believe it is extant on the filmed version. However, I also recall reading that it was sometimes excised from her performances of Norma because she played the kind of woman who could not conceivably contemplate committing such a dreadful act; be that as it may, this is a characterisation for posterity. Her interpretation is complemented by a powerful, virile, but somehow likeable Pollione from Vickers. He does not take the thrilling top note options like Corelli but comes across as less of a thoughtless cad. The ever-under-rated Josephine Veasey is a plausible and musical Adalgisa, and the supporting cast is fine. Conductor Patanè performs the near impossible feat under the conditions of mostly keeping it all together despite a few disjunctures between orchestra and singers and he never lets proceedings drag.
So, the bad news? Mostly the cut mentioned above and above all the hollow mono sound, of course: it sounds for much of the time as if the singers are in a wind tunnel. The boomy, echoing acoustic is not just the result of the performance taking place in the Orange amphitheatre; it's just done on poor equipment. (Opera d'Oro gives the location of this recording as being Torino; of course, it isn't but that is the origin of the orchestra and chorus.)
This isn't one for audiophiles or opera neophytes, but all canary-fanciers will want to own it.
Carlo Felice Cillario – 1975 (live mono) Gala
Orchestra - San Francisco Opera
Chorus - San Francisco Opera
Norma - Cristina Deutekom
Adalgisa - Tatiana Troyanos
Pollione - Robleto Merolla
Oroveso - Clifford Grant
Clotilde - Janice Felty
Flavio - Gary Burgess
Tempted into trying this by some enthusiastic reviews, I find my own enthusiasm for it to be tempered by some drawbacks which its admirers seem not to hear or remain untroubled by. The main issue here for me is Deutekom's tuning. She has a surprisingly strong powerful voice for a singer who was a famous coloratura and sang lyric roles such as the Queen of the Night to great acclaim (as per her account in Solti's earlier Magic Flute), especially in her lower register. She attacks the music with real confidence and vigour. The warbling vibrato which bothers many is not too obtrusive here but there is an odd change of gear in her vocal production as the voice ascends and in the mid-range the vibrato seems to be permanently centred under the note to produce an effect decidedly flat - and I'm afraid I find it painful to listen to for all her accomplishment. Indeed, in the famous duet with Adalgisa in which the singers shadow each other in thirds Deutekom pulls Troyanos down with her to end very flat indeed, nearer a B than the tonic C. That's a negligible flaw in a live performance but again makes for uncomfortable listening. I admire so much that Deutekom does: the delicacy and poise of her soft singing and the clarity of her divisions - but I cannot get over her intonation.
Troyanos' velvety sound is a real bonus; what a lovely singer she was, and here she is more impassioned than was sometimes the case with an artist who could be temperamentally cool. The other vocal treat here is Clifford Grant's rich, flexible bass with its distinctive timbre.
The Pollione - a second rank tenor now largely forgotten - is a crude, unsteady belter without much tonal allure and an effortful production; too many better tenors come to mind when he is pounding away: Corelli, Del Monaco, Vickers, even Charles Craig and John Alexander.
The sound is tolerable mono, perfectly listenable without too much distortion and some wibbling background noise/print-through on the tape. The conducting is unexceptional/unexceptionable and workmanlike without subtlety. Not for me; I offloaded this one.
Michael Halász – 1977 (live mono) Dynamic
Orchestra - Orchestra Sinfonica di Bari
Chorus - Amici della Polifonia - Voce per la Musica
Norma - Grace Bumbry
Adalgisa - Lella Cuberli
Pollione - Giuseppe Giacomini
Oroveso - Robert Lloyd
Clotilde - Eugenia Cardano
Flavio - Paolo Todisco
The mono sound here is rather hollow, with some wavering, background twittering and drop-outs in the tape, but it’s tolerable.
Obviously, the main interest here is Grace Bumbry’s brief assumption of the title role in her dramatic soprano phase; she soon reverted to Adalgisa, but the first impression we receive is of Robert Lloyd’s sonorous, strongly sung Oroveso. The under-recorded Giacomini, too, makes an impact with his large, bronze tenor; he is a singer to revival Corelli for amplitude of tone, but he eschews some top notes and can be rather unvarying in his delivery, rarely attempting beneath mezzo-forte. Lella Cuberli sings a capable Adalgisa of no great distinction.
Ensemble and synchronisation among the soloists and chorus can be precarious, the orchestra has its share of rough moments and bloopers and Halász’ conducting is rather stolid and uninspired. Despite some lovely moments from Bumbry, such as the last scene where the lie of the music, as in “In mia man”, most suits the darker colour of the centre of her voice, one gets the impression that she hasn’t fully digested the part (her coeval and possessor of a similar voice-type, Shirley Verrett, made the transition more successfully). There is no question whether Bumbry has enough voice; she sings a strong, direct, rather formidable Norma mostly without great nuance and occasionally her vibrato becomes obtrusive. Ultimately, this performance emerges more as an enjoyable sideshow of historical interest compared with the most gripping competition.
Riccardo Muti – 1978 (live mono) Myto, Legato Classics
Orchestra - Teatro Communale di Firenze
Chorus - Teatro Communale di Firenze
Norma - Renata Scotto
Adalgisa - Margherita Rinaldi
Pollione - Ermanno Mauro
Oroveso - Agostino Ferrin
Clotilde - Giuseppina Arista
Flavio - Giancarlo Turati
In good, clean, if limited, mono sound (but a muttering prompter is constantly audible) this recording immediately makes a good impression with an energised overture followed by the entry of Ferrin’s imposing bass. Ermanno Mauro will be no-one’s favourite Pollione; he is similar to Prevedi above in that he is rather stentorian and unvaried, without finesse but able to encompass the notes - and to his credit he takes the top C in his opening aria powerfully, head on – then ducks the concluding top note in “Meco all’altar”. Scotto is in vibrant voice – better than in her studio recording for Levine the following year – always tending towards the harsh and flapping at volume above the stave but also enlivening the text and singing out fearlessly. Some of her coloratura work is impressive and she also produces some lovely pianissimo and portamento effects to rival Caballé. I find her arty, artful manner in “Casta diva” too close to crooning, however, and there is a suspicion of her being under the note throughout as a result of the lack of support in her tone. Rinaldi’s lyric soprano in insufficiently differentiated from Scotto’s - there is a reason why the role is usually given to a mezzo even though the indications are that Giulia Grisi, who created it, was a lyric soprano – but she sings most feelingly, sounds more like a young girl than many a tough mezzo, and there are some interesting moments when her voice soars above Scotto’s as per the original score. This recording contains some lovely things but ultimately emerges as a bit anonymous, lacking the charisma and distinction of the best versions.
Paolo Peloso – 1978 (live mono) Gala
Orchestra - San Francisco Opera
Chorus - San Francisco Opera
Norma - Shirley Verrett
Adalgisa - Alexandrina Milcheva(-Nonova)
Pollione - Nunzio Todisco
Oroveso - Clifford Grant
Clotilde - Gwendolyn Jones
Flavio - Barry Busse
As you might expect, given that she had a voice that could sing practically anything, Shirley Verrett makes a strong, positive Norma and here she sings out confidently in live performance – no fudging or nudging but every note hit head on and cleanly articulated, although don’t look for much vocal nuance in the form of anything floated or piano. Her range is extraordinary: she has a secure top C, her lower register has a Callas-like bite, and she enunciates the text clearly - but with a peculiar tendency to distort the “e” vowel, turning it into an “I”, so “queste” becomes “quiste” and “terra” is “tirra”. In many respects, she is similar to her great Afro-American, mezzo-soprano coeval Grace Bumbry, who made the same upward transition but wisely abandoned the role much sooner than Verrett, who is more comfortable there and kept it in her repertoire from 1976 right towards the end of her career., singing it for the last time in Messina in 1989.
Her co-singers make a surprisingly strong team, given that they do not feature the biggest names. Booming Australian bass Clifford Grant is superb – as he is in virtually everything, I have heard him in. The young Bulgarian Alexandrina Milcheva is equally excellent, with a warm, rich, even mezzo, ringing top notes and a timbre reminiscent of Tatiana Troyanos. She blends well with Verrett; it’s a pity that they go flat in the a cappella coda to “Oh! rimembranza!”
Pollione is sung by the Neapolitan tenor Nunzio Tedesco, a singer unknown to me, now retired and apparently largely forgotten today but he had a good career, He has a strong, incisive tenor of the Bonisolli type and is never in danger of being drowned out by Verrett’s voluminous soprano falcon/sfogato. His vibrato is rather too pronounced but the volume and firmness of tone are welcome, even if, in line with this performance as a whole, refinements are few.
I really like the contribution of conductor Paolo Pelosi – again, an artist previously unknown to me - he does everything right, giving his singers rein when they need it but always driving the performance forward.
This is a grand, large-scale performance which deserves wider circulation. It’s not subtle and the sound is merely acceptable, but it enshrines some great singing.
James Levine – 1979 (studio stereo) Sony
Orchestra - National Philharmonic Orchestra
Chorus - Ambrosian Opera Chorus
Norma - Renata Scotto
Adalgisa - Tatiana Troyanos
Pollione - Giuseppe Giacomini
Oroveso - Paul Plishka
Clotilde - Ann Murray
Flavio - Paul Crook
This recording is promising in many ways: it restores many cuts, including passages where Adalgisa’s line is higher than Norma’s, the original ending to the first Act and some additional music in the famous duet “Mira, O Norma”; it is studio-made and in excellent stereo sound; it fields a superb orchestra and chorus; its distinguished cast of singers includes favourite, velvety mezzo Troyanos and the under-recorded Giacomini; finally, it is conducted by a young James Levine in typically energised, up-and-at-’em mode, giving full rein to the proto-Romantic sweep of the music but less inclined to wallow than in his other studio recording six years earlier with Sills.
Plishka, too, is more resonant and imposing than for Levine in that earlier recording and his Italian is excellent, even if a slight cloudiness in his tone is not so “Italianate”. Giacomini, too, doesn’t have the squillo ideally heard in a Pollione, but his hefty tenor is big and handsome without a hint of bleat or wobble and an attractively fast, flickering vibrato; he makes a good job of his opening aria, whacking out a slightly effortful but convincing top C and sounding like a proper military Roman, not the potboy we sometimes get from weedier tenors. His vocal production does not lend itself to great tonal variety but it’s still a pleasure to listen to such a virile sound; the contrast when tenor Paul Crook squeakily announces Norma’s arrival is comical.
Troyanos is ideal as Adalgisa because although her mezzo-soprano is rich and honeyed, the Supervialike fast vibrato makes her sound young, nervous and vulnerable, not a vengeful termagant. She a mellow lower register but a light, easy top range, enabling her to encompass those aforementioned higher-lying lines. You might have noticed that I have left my assessment of Scotto to last. As ever, you can hear how much she consciously or unconsciously modelled her Norma on Callas. There is a lot of edge and glottal catch in her tonal emission which can catch both the microphone and the ear ungratefully and, as ever, top notes spread, but the floated pianissimi are intact, and her passion and commitment are never in doubt. “Casta diva” is decidedly better than in her live recording under Muti from the previous year but the pulsed and squeezed sustained top A is frankly ugly and the cabaletta, transposed down a tone, is clumsy, especially from a singer who previously specialised in coloratura roles. She improves after that but there are still some harsh and squally moments.
If the central performance were more consistent, this would be a more recommendable option.
Richard Bonynge – 1984 (studio stereo) Decca
Orchestra - Welsh National Opera
Chorus - Welsh National Opera
Norma - Joan Sutherland
Adalgisa - Montserrat Caballé
Pollione - Luciano Pavarotti
Oroveso - Samuel Ramey
Clotilde - Diana Montague
Flavio - Kim Begley
Sutherland had just turned 58 at the time of her second
studio recording, so it is fair to note that her voice had lost some of its
resonance in its middle and acquired something of a pulse, but it was still a
thing of wonder and beauty. The cast assembled around her could hardly have
been bettered. Pavarotti’s youthful glory years too were behind him, but he was
only in his late forties, and his voice was still resplendent. Additional
interest is provided by the fact Caballé, a true soprano - and a great one, too
– is singing Adalgisa - and a soprano Adalgisa appears to have been Bellini’s
original intent. Ramey was the basso cantante du jour and even the very minor
roles of Clotilde and Flavio are sung by the excellent Diana Montague and Kim
Begley respectively. We hear lovely playing from the WNO, relaxed, flexible
conducting from Bonynge and the usual first-rate Decca sound and the off-stage
band effects are neatly managed. The original issue was on three CDs with an
introductory essay, a synopsis, illustrations and a four-language libretto to
complete a prestige project; the re-issue offers an online libretto.
Samuel Ramey’s Oroveso is a little lighter than normal but his lean, resonant tone cuts through the chorus and orchestra. Pavarotti doesn’t have the heft of Corelli or Del Monaco, but, like Ramey, the beauty and incisiveness of his timbre prove very satisfying and his careful inflection if the recitativo is a noticeable feature of his singing – pleasing from a tenor who was sometimes satisfied merely to “stand and sing”. The top C is duly delivered without fuss. He benefits from Bonynge’s sympathetic tempi and willingness to permit rubato in the phrasing, nor, contrary to some reports, does he sound bored or uninvolved.
Sutherland’s voice is still clearly very large and flexible; the slight huskiness at its centre and encroaching beat do not really much compromise its beauty and it remains impressive. She does not sing her big arias in the original keys as she did twenty years earlier but the coloratura of “Ah! bello a me ritorna” is thrilling and the top C concluding the first scene and the top D at the end of Act 1 are still very much in place – indeed powerful and prolonged.
It is fascinating to hear how Caballé – a great Norma herself – adapts her voice to both the role of Adalgisa and to Sutherland’s Norma. This is a performance full of vocal delicacy and textual nuance that shows up how plain some mezzos are in their delivery of the part; right from her first recitative, “Sgombra è la sacra selva”, Caballé puts her mark on the role and creates a sympathetic, fully rounded character. I actually prefer her Adalgisa to her Norma and would go as far as to say that it is the best on record. To take but one example, her floated G flat on “Ah! perduta io son” is simply exquisite and such felicities abound. The duets between the two ladies are delectable and it is noticeable how crisp Sutherland’s diction is here following her consonant-swallowing phase. Similarly, the great Act 2 trio “Norma! de’ tuoi rimproveri” goes with a swing, actually benefitting from a tempo slightly more relaxed than usual.
Given the bad press this has received from some quarters, I had not expected my reacquaintance with it to be such a positive experience, but I enjoy it very much and cannot agree that it was made too late in Sutherland’s long career. I suggest that to experience her performance at its best, this recording should be played loud to recreate the undoubted impact of her voice in the theatre.
Giovanni Antonini – 2011-13 (studio digital) Decca
Orchestra - La Scintilla
Chorus - International Chamber Vocalists
Norma - Cecilia Bartoli
Adalgisa - Sumi Jo
Pollione - John Osborn
Oroveso - Michele Pertusi
Clotilde - Liliana Nikiteanu
Flavio - Reinaldo Macias
Nearly everything about this recording is different, which is why I think it has almost to be considered as a thing apart from mainstream recordings. Bellini’s
First, its format: it is lavishly presented in bound, hardback book form with the CDs at each end, numerous photographs, many depicting Bartoli as a tousled, distraught Norma, some with heaving cleavage on display suggestive of verismo torment, several short essays and transcriptions of conversations, in three languages, explaining the rationale behind the edition used here, track listings, a synopsis and – mirabile dictum – a complete, quadrilingual (the original Italian, with English, French and German translations) libretto.
Secondly, the edition: it is the product of a critical study of the manuscript and other sources by musicologist Maurizio Biondi and conductor-violinist Riccardo Minasi, which attempts to re-create the authentic vocal style and instrumental sonorities of what would have been heard at the opera’s premiere. Original instruments are employed, playing at 430Hz, about a quarter tone lower than modern pitch. Cuts dating back to the 1950’s have been restored, and some additional musical material has been inserted, including a coda extension to the chorus "Guerra, guerra" and additional solo verses in the confrontational trio ending Act 1. The return to a soprano Adalgisa and Bellini’s original keys for her and Norma’s music aims to restore the composer’s concept. This is not, however, strictly speaking the first attempt to return to the original score; a performance on DVD was issued in 2001 using an edition prepared by scholar Philip Gossett and there are several precedents for a soprano Adalgisa, including Caballé, Margherita Rinaldi and Lella Cuberli as per above, but this is by far the most radical.
The result is a version sounding very different from traditional recordings: everything conspires towards producing a brighter, leaner sound. The period specialist orchestra, drawn mostly from the Zurich Opera, has gut strings, a recorder and a soft-toned, wooden transverse flute, harder timpani and natural horns; the voices are lighter, more flexible and agile in coloratura and repeats are ornamented and often surprisingly embellished; the conducting is swift and incisive, but Antonini employs rubato in slower passages.
So much for the facts; the question is, how good is it? Let me narrate my responses as the opera unfolds.
I am initially put off by the clangourous, echoing acoustic of the Swiss church recording location, and seems that microphones have been placed very close to sources to compensate for the reverberance, but the ear soon adjusts and obviously it suits the thrust of the enterprise as a whole. The buzzing timbre of the double basses and cellos, too, is disconcerting, but again, one adjusts and appreciates the novelty. I am less impressed by Michele Pertusi’s pedestrian, woofy Oroveso; his intonation and resonance go astray in the lower regions of his bass and one longs for the rolling ease of Siepi or Zaccaria. Nor do I like John Osborn’s bleaty, throaty tenor; he sings with a permanently strangulated tone which cannot accommodate much variety of expression because of a fundamentally wrong vocal adjustment; hence the vibrato starts to flap, and the sound sounds more and more restricted as he ascends. Like Pertusi, when he goes low, the notes disappear as he swallows his tongue – always a telling flaw. What I think Bartoli was aiming for when she hand-picked her associate cast was a tenor of the type typified by John Aler, another American now in his late sixties and presumably mostly retired, who has the flexibility and upper extension without the constriction. I was surprised when I read the following judgment in a review published in “Opera Today”:
“Possessing one of the most thrilling voices heard in bel canto repertory during the last decade, American tenor John Osborn joins the ranks of recorded Polliones that include Franco Corelli, Plácido Domingo, and Luciano Pavarotti. In the context of this performance, it might be said that Mr. Osborn combines the best qualities of all three of these illustrious forbears.”
I can only say that I derive little pleasure from Mr Osborn’s petulant Pollione.
So far so bad.
Enter Bartoli, enunciating her recitativo with trilled r’s exploding like a Gatling on steroids and much busy huffing and puffing. She sings “Casta diva” very quietly, as she says in her notes, “sung as a prayer” and nothing wrong with that, especially as she preserves the legato winningly. The second verse is ornamented supposedly in accordance with what Bellini’s diva would have been expected to do and it is rather beautiful; she certainly vindicates her assertion that a mezzo with an upper extension can encompass the role, and I like the alternative, descending ending. Nonetheless, I have heard Bartoli live and know that her voice is not very big; the aforementioned close miking is in play and artificially exaggerates her carrying power, especially when she appears to drown out her fellow singers. Nor am I keen on the chorus basses groaning the lowest line in the background. Antonini scrambles through the reprise of the march acting as a postlude to “Ah! bello a me ritorna” as the best way to despatch such an embarrassing little tune, then makes a nice job of the gorgeous introduction to Adalgisa’s “Deh! proteggimi, o Dio”.
Sumi Jo is certainly more like the young, naïve victim of a wily seducer than some of the viragos who have belted their way in stentorian fashion through the role (think Horne or Cossotto at their most formidable); she sings with great pathos and delicacy and there is virtually no wear in her silvery but warm tone, even though she was nearly fifty at the time of recording. So it is all the more of a pity that she must soon be joined by her ardent Kermit who sadly still does not sound to my ears like the avatar of Corelli, Domingo and Pavarotti combined…
Miss Jo valiantly perseveres and provides much aural pleasure. Her Italian is superb, and she is a fine verbal actor. How I wish she were adequately partnered. Still, she has plenty of duetting to do with Norma, so we move on.
It is odd that having extolled the desirability of rediscovering the characteristics of the true bel canto style, Bartoli her recitative opening the final scene of Act 1 with such verismo fervour and attack; it sounds mannered and over-worked - and the close miking exaggerates those faults. Surely more detached, imperious, Norma-as-goddess manner would have been preferable to the harassed harridan mode? “O! rimembranza!” inevitably sounds rushed to ears accustomed to a more flowing lyricism than Antonini permits but the autograph score is apparently marked “andante agitato” and the singing from both ladies is blissful. When Pollione bursts in with his bleated “Misera te! Che festi?” the spell is broken, and the tripping, oompah-oompah start to "Oh! di qual sei tu vittima" in combination with Osborn’s unheroic whine nearly scupper the terzetto finale for good but the firebreathing Bartoli injects some starch into proceedings from “Perfido!” onwards with her intensity and rescues it.
There is a raw immediacy to the superb prelude to Act 2; I like everything about the way Antonini paces and plays the music; Bartoli picks up on the suspense of the moment and delivers a riveting narrative of her internal torment in “Dormono entrambi” and there is great pathos in her entrusting her sons to Adalgisa. “Mira, o Norma” is similarly delightful, both singers entwining their voices exotically but without artifice, vindicating the “less is more” approach which is not always the rule here.”Sì, fino’all’ore” is very fast but thrilling; in fact, Bartoli gets better and better as the opera proceeds but then really throws away the pivotal line “Son io”, where Callas makes so much of so little, then Osborn croons his rejoinder to her sublime “Qual cor tradisti”.
What an odd experience of a mixed bag this recording is. I love certain things about this recording and if it had a better tenor, I could bring myself to compromise and recommend it for its many virtues and refreshing surprises, but…
Recommendations (second choices in brackets):
My first choices are hardly novel or surprising. Nothing shakes my primary attachment to Callas’ second studio recording, although I would not want to be without at least one other of her four live performances, above all the Pristine remastering of the 1955 Votto. I would also want to have at least one with Sutherland, hence the frequency of the occurrence of Bonynge’s name in my list below. I would also suggest that whatever version of Norma you prefer, Caballé’s Adalgisa, and not her Norma, is the more essential; for her Norma, you may go to the Cillario studio recording or the live Orange performance, trying sound and all.
Samuel Ramey’s Oroveso is a little lighter than normal but his lean, resonant tone cuts through the chorus and orchestra. Pavarotti doesn’t have the heft of Corelli or Del Monaco, but, like Ramey, the beauty and incisiveness of his timbre prove very satisfying and his careful inflection if the recitativo is a noticeable feature of his singing – pleasing from a tenor who was sometimes satisfied merely to “stand and sing”. The top C is duly delivered without fuss. He benefits from Bonynge’s sympathetic tempi and willingness to permit rubato in the phrasing, nor, contrary to some reports, does he sound bored or uninvolved.
Sutherland’s voice is still clearly very large and flexible; the slight huskiness at its centre and encroaching beat do not really much compromise its beauty and it remains impressive. She does not sing her big arias in the original keys as she did twenty years earlier but the coloratura of “Ah! bello a me ritorna” is thrilling and the top C concluding the first scene and the top D at the end of Act 1 are still very much in place – indeed powerful and prolonged.
It is fascinating to hear how Caballé – a great Norma herself – adapts her voice to both the role of Adalgisa and to Sutherland’s Norma. This is a performance full of vocal delicacy and textual nuance that shows up how plain some mezzos are in their delivery of the part; right from her first recitative, “Sgombra è la sacra selva”, Caballé puts her mark on the role and creates a sympathetic, fully rounded character. I actually prefer her Adalgisa to her Norma and would go as far as to say that it is the best on record. To take but one example, her floated G flat on “Ah! perduta io son” is simply exquisite and such felicities abound. The duets between the two ladies are delectable and it is noticeable how crisp Sutherland’s diction is here following her consonant-swallowing phase. Similarly, the great Act 2 trio “Norma! de’ tuoi rimproveri” goes with a swing, actually benefitting from a tempo slightly more relaxed than usual.
Given the bad press this has received from some quarters, I had not expected my reacquaintance with it to be such a positive experience, but I enjoy it very much and cannot agree that it was made too late in Sutherland’s long career. I suggest that to experience her performance at its best, this recording should be played loud to recreate the undoubted impact of her voice in the theatre.
Giovanni Antonini – 2011-13 (studio digital) Decca
Orchestra - La Scintilla
Chorus - International Chamber Vocalists
Norma - Cecilia Bartoli
Adalgisa - Sumi Jo
Pollione - John Osborn
Oroveso - Michele Pertusi
Clotilde - Liliana Nikiteanu
Flavio - Reinaldo Macias
Nearly everything about this recording is different, which is why I think it has almost to be considered as a thing apart from mainstream recordings. Bellini’s
First, its format: it is lavishly presented in bound, hardback book form with the CDs at each end, numerous photographs, many depicting Bartoli as a tousled, distraught Norma, some with heaving cleavage on display suggestive of verismo torment, several short essays and transcriptions of conversations, in three languages, explaining the rationale behind the edition used here, track listings, a synopsis and – mirabile dictum – a complete, quadrilingual (the original Italian, with English, French and German translations) libretto.
Secondly, the edition: it is the product of a critical study of the manuscript and other sources by musicologist Maurizio Biondi and conductor-violinist Riccardo Minasi, which attempts to re-create the authentic vocal style and instrumental sonorities of what would have been heard at the opera’s premiere. Original instruments are employed, playing at 430Hz, about a quarter tone lower than modern pitch. Cuts dating back to the 1950’s have been restored, and some additional musical material has been inserted, including a coda extension to the chorus "Guerra, guerra" and additional solo verses in the confrontational trio ending Act 1. The return to a soprano Adalgisa and Bellini’s original keys for her and Norma’s music aims to restore the composer’s concept. This is not, however, strictly speaking the first attempt to return to the original score; a performance on DVD was issued in 2001 using an edition prepared by scholar Philip Gossett and there are several precedents for a soprano Adalgisa, including Caballé, Margherita Rinaldi and Lella Cuberli as per above, but this is by far the most radical.
The result is a version sounding very different from traditional recordings: everything conspires towards producing a brighter, leaner sound. The period specialist orchestra, drawn mostly from the Zurich Opera, has gut strings, a recorder and a soft-toned, wooden transverse flute, harder timpani and natural horns; the voices are lighter, more flexible and agile in coloratura and repeats are ornamented and often surprisingly embellished; the conducting is swift and incisive, but Antonini employs rubato in slower passages.
So much for the facts; the question is, how good is it? Let me narrate my responses as the opera unfolds.
I am initially put off by the clangourous, echoing acoustic of the Swiss church recording location, and seems that microphones have been placed very close to sources to compensate for the reverberance, but the ear soon adjusts and obviously it suits the thrust of the enterprise as a whole. The buzzing timbre of the double basses and cellos, too, is disconcerting, but again, one adjusts and appreciates the novelty. I am less impressed by Michele Pertusi’s pedestrian, woofy Oroveso; his intonation and resonance go astray in the lower regions of his bass and one longs for the rolling ease of Siepi or Zaccaria. Nor do I like John Osborn’s bleaty, throaty tenor; he sings with a permanently strangulated tone which cannot accommodate much variety of expression because of a fundamentally wrong vocal adjustment; hence the vibrato starts to flap, and the sound sounds more and more restricted as he ascends. Like Pertusi, when he goes low, the notes disappear as he swallows his tongue – always a telling flaw. What I think Bartoli was aiming for when she hand-picked her associate cast was a tenor of the type typified by John Aler, another American now in his late sixties and presumably mostly retired, who has the flexibility and upper extension without the constriction. I was surprised when I read the following judgment in a review published in “Opera Today”:
“Possessing one of the most thrilling voices heard in bel canto repertory during the last decade, American tenor John Osborn joins the ranks of recorded Polliones that include Franco Corelli, Plácido Domingo, and Luciano Pavarotti. In the context of this performance, it might be said that Mr. Osborn combines the best qualities of all three of these illustrious forbears.”
I can only say that I derive little pleasure from Mr Osborn’s petulant Pollione.
So far so bad.
Enter Bartoli, enunciating her recitativo with trilled r’s exploding like a Gatling on steroids and much busy huffing and puffing. She sings “Casta diva” very quietly, as she says in her notes, “sung as a prayer” and nothing wrong with that, especially as she preserves the legato winningly. The second verse is ornamented supposedly in accordance with what Bellini’s diva would have been expected to do and it is rather beautiful; she certainly vindicates her assertion that a mezzo with an upper extension can encompass the role, and I like the alternative, descending ending. Nonetheless, I have heard Bartoli live and know that her voice is not very big; the aforementioned close miking is in play and artificially exaggerates her carrying power, especially when she appears to drown out her fellow singers. Nor am I keen on the chorus basses groaning the lowest line in the background. Antonini scrambles through the reprise of the march acting as a postlude to “Ah! bello a me ritorna” as the best way to despatch such an embarrassing little tune, then makes a nice job of the gorgeous introduction to Adalgisa’s “Deh! proteggimi, o Dio”.
Sumi Jo is certainly more like the young, naïve victim of a wily seducer than some of the viragos who have belted their way in stentorian fashion through the role (think Horne or Cossotto at their most formidable); she sings with great pathos and delicacy and there is virtually no wear in her silvery but warm tone, even though she was nearly fifty at the time of recording. So it is all the more of a pity that she must soon be joined by her ardent Kermit who sadly still does not sound to my ears like the avatar of Corelli, Domingo and Pavarotti combined…
Miss Jo valiantly perseveres and provides much aural pleasure. Her Italian is superb, and she is a fine verbal actor. How I wish she were adequately partnered. Still, she has plenty of duetting to do with Norma, so we move on.
It is odd that having extolled the desirability of rediscovering the characteristics of the true bel canto style, Bartoli her recitative opening the final scene of Act 1 with such verismo fervour and attack; it sounds mannered and over-worked - and the close miking exaggerates those faults. Surely more detached, imperious, Norma-as-goddess manner would have been preferable to the harassed harridan mode? “O! rimembranza!” inevitably sounds rushed to ears accustomed to a more flowing lyricism than Antonini permits but the autograph score is apparently marked “andante agitato” and the singing from both ladies is blissful. When Pollione bursts in with his bleated “Misera te! Che festi?” the spell is broken, and the tripping, oompah-oompah start to "Oh! di qual sei tu vittima" in combination with Osborn’s unheroic whine nearly scupper the terzetto finale for good but the firebreathing Bartoli injects some starch into proceedings from “Perfido!” onwards with her intensity and rescues it.
There is a raw immediacy to the superb prelude to Act 2; I like everything about the way Antonini paces and plays the music; Bartoli picks up on the suspense of the moment and delivers a riveting narrative of her internal torment in “Dormono entrambi” and there is great pathos in her entrusting her sons to Adalgisa. “Mira, o Norma” is similarly delightful, both singers entwining their voices exotically but without artifice, vindicating the “less is more” approach which is not always the rule here.”Sì, fino’all’ore” is very fast but thrilling; in fact, Bartoli gets better and better as the opera proceeds but then really throws away the pivotal line “Son io”, where Callas makes so much of so little, then Osborn croons his rejoinder to her sublime “Qual cor tradisti”.
What an odd experience of a mixed bag this recording is. I love certain things about this recording and if it had a better tenor, I could bring myself to compromise and recommend it for its many virtues and refreshing surprises, but…
Recommendations (second choices in brackets):
My first choices are hardly novel or surprising. Nothing shakes my primary attachment to Callas’ second studio recording, although I would not want to be without at least one other of her four live performances, above all the Pristine remastering of the 1955 Votto. I would also want to have at least one with Sutherland, hence the frequency of the occurrence of Bonynge’s name in my list below. I would also suggest that whatever version of Norma you prefer, Caballé’s Adalgisa, and not her Norma, is the more essential; for her Norma, you may go to the Cillario studio recording or the live Orange performance, trying sound and all.
Live mono: Votto/Callas 1955 -
Pristine: reprocessed as Ambient Stereo (Bonynge/Sutherland 1969)
Live stereo: Bonynge/Sutherland 1972
(Patanè/Caballé, – 1974)
Studio stereo: Serafin 1960 * (Bonynge/Sutherland 1984; Cillario/Caballé, 1972)
* overall first
choice
Ralph Moore
FANFARE MAGAZINE
HENRY FOGEL
Bellini Norma. •
Leyla Gencer, soprano (Norma); Giulietta Simionato, mezzo-soprano
(Adalgisa); Bruno Prevedi, tenor (Pollione); Nicola Zaccaria, bass
(Oroveso); Chorus & Orchestra of Teatro alla Scala, Milan, conducted by
Gianandrea Gavazzeni. •
Melodram 468(3) (Three discs, mono) [distributed by German News].
Leyla Gencer, a Turkish soprano born in 1924 or 1928 (depending on which reference source you consult) must be a puzzling case to all who know her singing. Even in the era of Tebaldi and Callas (and the waning years of Milanov and Albanese) she should have had a more significant career than she did. Were she to arrive on the scene today, she would be embraced.
Gencer was not completely unknown; she had a
respectable career in Italy through the 1950s and '60s, specializing in the bel
canto repertory as well as in Verdi. She clearly had a following, for a number
of her live performances have been circulating for years in the tape and record
“underground” and one can hear tumultuous ovations after many of her better
performances. I have heard from more than one conductor that one of the
limiting factors on her career was behaviour that was often unpredictable even
by prima donna standards, but who knows what the whole truth is.
What is demonstrable is that Gencer was a soprano of
genuine stature. She may well have been able to achieve greater fame had she
not overlapped repertoire with Callas, and had she also not overlapped with her
more famous colleague in some matters of style and approach to this music. Like
Callas, Gencer was adept at bringing out the pathos in a dramatic situation,
and of appealing directly to the heart with a style that was at once tender and
affecting. Also, like Callas she threw herself completely into what she sang;
Gencer did not give studied, restrained portrayals, choosing instead to invest
each performance with a considerable part of herself.
Where Gencer cannot compare with Callas is in variety
of vocal colour. Callas had a tremendous variety of colours and shades
available, thus giving her at any moment a range of interpretive choices not
possible for other singers. Added to that variety of vocal colour was Callas'
intelligence and her highly musical instincts, all leading her to make good
choices in almost every instance. Because Gencer did not have that kind of
coloristic variety her performances lacked the range and dramatic specificity
of Callas. Given Callas' complete identification with the role of Norma, it is
certainly not possible to say that if you are going to own one recording of
Norma, this Gencer 1965 performance should be the one. If, however, Norma is an
opera that is important to you, this recording belongs in your collection.
Where Gencer scores, even over Callas, is in vocal
equipment that did her bidding reliably and beautifully. There is no wobble,
plenty of genuine tonal gleam, a smooth legato when she chooses to apply it,
and a ravishing pianissimo liberally used. She does tend to use the gottal
attack perhaps too frequently to depict anger, and she is hardly at ease with
the coloratura, but this is an important soprano singing an important role
central to the repertoire in which she specialized, and it is very much worth preserving
Simionato is an impassioned Adalgisa, Prevedi a stentorian and rather bullish
Pollione, and Zaccaria a fine Oroveso. Gavazzeni conducts without all of the
passion and shading that Serafin brought to this opera, but with much that is
good. Melodram as usual provides no commentary, and the basic sound is quite
good for a broadcast.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Norma by Vincenzo Bellini are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera January 1958 p.12; Opera on Record p.154; Celletti p.50; Opera on CD (1) p.40 (2) p.46 (3) p.51; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.29 p.106: No.236 p.76; MET p.21; MET (VID) p.10; Penguin p.10; Orpheus No.13 1994 Festival p.22; Giudici p.31 (2) p.57; Diapason No.439 juillet-aoüt 1997 p.48; Répertoire No.112 avril 1998 p.86; Opéra International juin 2000 No.247 pp.66-70; Donizetti Society Newsletter June 2000 pp.21-23; American Record Guide September/October 2000 Vol.63 No.5 pp.73-83; Gramophone January 2002 p.28; Classica Répertoire No.94 juillet-aoüt 2007 p.66
This recording is reviewed in the following publication:
Opera Quarterly - Vol.21 No.3 Summer 2005 (published March 2006) pp. 551-555 [NEL]
Comments: Recording of a performance at La Scala (January 1965; see OPERA March 1965 pp.203-204; «Simionato» by Jean-Jacques Hanine Roussel pp.83-85)
30.01.1965 NORMA
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro di San Carlo di Napoli
Fernando Previtali
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Fiorenza Cossotto (Adalgisa); Gianfranco
Cecchele (Pollione); Ivo Vinco (Oroveso)
Hardy – 2 CDs
NORMA 1965
OPERA MAGAZINE
HENRY FOGEL
06.10.1966 NORMA
Lausanne, Theatre de Beaulieu
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di Bologna
Oliviero de Fabritiis
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Fiorenza Cossotto (Adalgisa); Gastone Limarilli
(Pollione); Ivo Vinco (Oroveso); Anna Lia Bazzani (Clotilde); Vittorio
Pandano (Flavio)
Myto – 3 CDs
NORMA 1966
OPERA (GUIA UNIVERSAL DE LA OPERA DISCOGRAFIA
2001
Norma
Opera en dos actos con libreto de Felice Roman, be sado en un drama de Alexandre Soumet, estrena en el Teatro de la Scala de Milan, el 26 de diciembre de 1831.
Norma ha sido considerada siempre la obra maestra de Bellini asta Wagner estabo de acuerdo en ellci, a pesar de que/puritan, más tardia y orquestalmente más perfecta, le ha ido a la zaga Pero si el papel central de Norme es de una dificul
tad tremenda, of de tenor de /purtani presenta inco modos problemas que nan limitado la vitalidad de este último titulo Las grabaciones de Norma son un catálogo de las mejores cantantes del siglo xx en el terreno del bel canto
1. ✰✰ Gina Cigna, Ebe Stignani, Giovanni Breviario, Tancredi Pasero. Coro y Orquesta Eiar de Turin dirigidos por Vittorio Gui. Nuovo Fonit Cetra. 2 CD. 1937.
2. ✰ Maria Callas, Giulietta Simionato, Kurt Baum, Nicola Moscona. Coro y Orquesta del Palacio de Bellas Artes de Mé xico dirigidos por Guido Picco. Melofram. 2 CD. 1950. (En vivo.)
3. ✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Ebe Stignani, Mirto Picchi, Giacomo Vaghi. Coro y Orquesta del Covent Garden de Londres dirigidos por Vittorio Gui. Legato/Sakkaris. 2 CD. 1952. (En vivo.)
4. ✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Elena Nicolai, Franco Corelli, Boris Christoff. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro Verdi de Trieste dirigidos por Antonino Votto. Melodram. 2 CD. 1953. (En vivo.)
5. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Ebe Stignani, Mario Filippeschi, Nicola Rossi-Lemeni. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala de Milán dirigidos por Tullio Serafin. Emi. 3 CD. 1954.
6. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Ebe Stignani, Mario del Monaco, Giuseppe Modesti. Coro y Orquesta de la RAI de Roma dirigidos por Tullio Serafin. Arkadia / Fonit Cetra. 2 CD. 1955.
7. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Giulietta Simionato, Mario del Monaco, Nicola Zaccaria. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala, Milán, dirigidos por Antonino Votto. Arkadia. 2 CD. 1955.
8. ✰✰✰ Anita Cerquetri, Miriam Pirazzini, Franco Corelli, Giulio Neri. Coro y Orquesta de la Ópera de Roma dirigidos por Gabriele Santini. Gop. 2 CD. 1958. (En vivo.)
9. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Christa Ludwig, Franco Corelli, Nicola Zaccaria. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala dirigidos por Tullio Serafin. Emi. 3 CD. 1960.
10. ✰✰✰✰ Joan Sutherland, Marilyn Horne, John Alexander, Richard Cross. Coro y Orquesta London Symphony dirigidos por Richard Bonynge. Decca, 1964. 3 CD. 1964.
11. ✰ Maria Callas, Fiorenza Cossotto, Gianfranco Cecchele, Ivo Vinen. Coro y Orquesta de la Opera de París dirigido por Georges Prêtre. Eklipse. 2 CD. 1965. (En vivo.)
12. ✰✰✰ Leyla Gencer, Fiorenza Cossotto, Gastone Limarilli, Ivo Vinco. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Opera de Bolonia dirigido por Oliviero de Fabritiis. Myto. 2 CD. 1966. (En vivo.)
13. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Fiorenza Cossotto, Plácido Domingo, Ruggero
Raimondi. Coro Ambrosian Opera y Orquesta Filarmónica de Londres dirigido por Carlo Felice Cillario. Rca. 3 CD. 1972.
14. ✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Fiorenza Cossotto, Gianni Raimondi, Ivo Vinco. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala dirigido por Gianandrea Gavazzeni. Gop 2 CD. 1972. (En vivo.)
15. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Josephine Veasey, Jon Vickers, Agostino Ferrin. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro Regio de Turin dirigidos por Giuseppe Patanè. Opera d’Oro. 3 CD. 1974. (En vivo.)
16. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Fiorenza Cossotto, Carlo Cossutta, Luigi Roni. Coro y Orquesta de la Staatsoper de Viena dirigidos por Riccardo Muti. Exclusive. 2 CD. 1977. (En vivo.)
17. ✰✰ Shirley Verrett, Alexandrina Miltcheva, Nunzio Todisco, Clifford Grant. Coro y Orquesta de la Ópera de San Francisco dirigidos por Paolo Peloso. Gala. 2 CD. 1978. (En vivo.)
18. ✰✰✰ Renata Scotto, Tatiana Troyanos, Giuseppe Giacomini, Paul Plishka. Coro Ambrosian Opera y Orquesta National Philharmonic dirigidos por James Levine. Sony Classical. 2 CD. 1979,
19. ✰✰✰✰ Joan Sutherland, Montserrat Caballé, Luciano Pavarotti, Samuel Ramey. Coro y Orquesta de la Welsh National Opera dirigidos por Richard Bonynge. Decca. 3 CD. 1984.
Dejando de lado la grabación histórica de Gina Cigna (1), de relativo interés, aunque nos sirve de testimonio de las maneras interpretativas de pre-guerra, la historia discográfica de Norma no podría ser entendida sin la mítica figura de Maria Callas, que hizo de este rol su mejor caballo de batalla. Numerosas son las grabaciones en vivo que se recogieron de la Divina, lo que demuestra el interés que suscitó su interpretación de este dificil papel.
Opera en dos actos con libreto de Felice Roman, be sado en un drama de Alexandre Soumet, estrena en el Teatro de la Scala de Milan, el 26 de diciembre de 1831.
Norma ha sido considerada siempre la obra maestra de Bellini asta Wagner estabo de acuerdo en ellci, a pesar de que/puritan, más tardia y orquestalmente más perfecta, le ha ido a la zaga Pero si el papel central de Norme es de una dificul
tad tremenda, of de tenor de /purtani presenta inco modos problemas que nan limitado la vitalidad de este último titulo Las grabaciones de Norma son un catálogo de las mejores cantantes del siglo xx en el terreno del bel canto
1. ✰✰ Gina Cigna, Ebe Stignani, Giovanni Breviario, Tancredi Pasero. Coro y Orquesta Eiar de Turin dirigidos por Vittorio Gui. Nuovo Fonit Cetra. 2 CD. 1937.
2. ✰ Maria Callas, Giulietta Simionato, Kurt Baum, Nicola Moscona. Coro y Orquesta del Palacio de Bellas Artes de Mé xico dirigidos por Guido Picco. Melofram. 2 CD. 1950. (En vivo.)
3. ✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Ebe Stignani, Mirto Picchi, Giacomo Vaghi. Coro y Orquesta del Covent Garden de Londres dirigidos por Vittorio Gui. Legato/Sakkaris. 2 CD. 1952. (En vivo.)
4. ✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Elena Nicolai, Franco Corelli, Boris Christoff. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro Verdi de Trieste dirigidos por Antonino Votto. Melodram. 2 CD. 1953. (En vivo.)
5. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Ebe Stignani, Mario Filippeschi, Nicola Rossi-Lemeni. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala de Milán dirigidos por Tullio Serafin. Emi. 3 CD. 1954.
6. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Ebe Stignani, Mario del Monaco, Giuseppe Modesti. Coro y Orquesta de la RAI de Roma dirigidos por Tullio Serafin. Arkadia / Fonit Cetra. 2 CD. 1955.
7. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Giulietta Simionato, Mario del Monaco, Nicola Zaccaria. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala, Milán, dirigidos por Antonino Votto. Arkadia. 2 CD. 1955.
8. ✰✰✰ Anita Cerquetri, Miriam Pirazzini, Franco Corelli, Giulio Neri. Coro y Orquesta de la Ópera de Roma dirigidos por Gabriele Santini. Gop. 2 CD. 1958. (En vivo.)
9. ✰✰✰✰ Maria Callas, Christa Ludwig, Franco Corelli, Nicola Zaccaria. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala dirigidos por Tullio Serafin. Emi. 3 CD. 1960.
10. ✰✰✰✰ Joan Sutherland, Marilyn Horne, John Alexander, Richard Cross. Coro y Orquesta London Symphony dirigidos por Richard Bonynge. Decca, 1964. 3 CD. 1964.
11. ✰ Maria Callas, Fiorenza Cossotto, Gianfranco Cecchele, Ivo Vinen. Coro y Orquesta de la Opera de París dirigido por Georges Prêtre. Eklipse. 2 CD. 1965. (En vivo.)
12. ✰✰✰ Leyla Gencer, Fiorenza Cossotto, Gastone Limarilli, Ivo Vinco. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Opera de Bolonia dirigido por Oliviero de Fabritiis. Myto. 2 CD. 1966. (En vivo.)
13. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Fiorenza Cossotto, Plácido Domingo, Ruggero
Raimondi. Coro Ambrosian Opera y Orquesta Filarmónica de Londres dirigido por Carlo Felice Cillario. Rca. 3 CD. 1972.
14. ✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Fiorenza Cossotto, Gianni Raimondi, Ivo Vinco. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro de la Scala dirigido por Gianandrea Gavazzeni. Gop 2 CD. 1972. (En vivo.)
15. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Josephine Veasey, Jon Vickers, Agostino Ferrin. Coro y Orquesta del Teatro Regio de Turin dirigidos por Giuseppe Patanè. Opera d’Oro. 3 CD. 1974. (En vivo.)
16. ✰✰✰✰ Montserrat Caballé, Fiorenza Cossotto, Carlo Cossutta, Luigi Roni. Coro y Orquesta de la Staatsoper de Viena dirigidos por Riccardo Muti. Exclusive. 2 CD. 1977. (En vivo.)
17. ✰✰ Shirley Verrett, Alexandrina Miltcheva, Nunzio Todisco, Clifford Grant. Coro y Orquesta de la Ópera de San Francisco dirigidos por Paolo Peloso. Gala. 2 CD. 1978. (En vivo.)
18. ✰✰✰ Renata Scotto, Tatiana Troyanos, Giuseppe Giacomini, Paul Plishka. Coro Ambrosian Opera y Orquesta National Philharmonic dirigidos por James Levine. Sony Classical. 2 CD. 1979,
19. ✰✰✰✰ Joan Sutherland, Montserrat Caballé, Luciano Pavarotti, Samuel Ramey. Coro y Orquesta de la Welsh National Opera dirigidos por Richard Bonynge. Decca. 3 CD. 1984.
Dejando de lado la grabación histórica de Gina Cigna (1), de relativo interés, aunque nos sirve de testimonio de las maneras interpretativas de pre-guerra, la historia discográfica de Norma no podría ser entendida sin la mítica figura de Maria Callas, que hizo de este rol su mejor caballo de batalla. Numerosas son las grabaciones en vivo que se recogieron de la Divina, lo que demuestra el interés que suscitó su interpretación de este dificil papel.
OPERADIS
Recordings of Norma by Vincenzo Bellini are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera January 1958 p.12; Opera on Record p.154; Celletti p.50; Opera on CD (1) p.40 (2) p.46 (3) p.51; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.29 p.106: No.236 p.76; MET p.21; MET (VID) p.10; Penguin p.10; Orpheus No.13 1994 Festival p.22; Giudici p.31 (2) p.57; Diapason No.439 juillet-aoüt 1997 p.48; Répertoire No.112 avril 1998 p.86; Opéra International juin 2000 No.247 pp.66-70; Donizetti Society Newsletter June 2000 pp.21-23; American Record Guide September/October 2000 Vol.63 No.5 pp.73-83; Gramophone January 2002 p.28; Classica Répertoire No.94 juillet-aoüt 2007 p.66
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Opera News - July 1998 p.40 [CJL]
Orpheus - April 1998 p.62 [GH]
L’Avant-Scène Opéra - No.187 p.139
Classical Express - Issue 96 March 1998 p.3 [MT]
American Record Guide - May/June 1998 Vol.61 No.3 p.98 [MM]
Ópera Actual (Barcelona) - marzo-mayo 1998 No.27 p.83 [LB]
24.07.1965 NORMA
05.08.1965
NORMA
Orchestra
e Coro del Arena di Verona
Gianandrea
Gavazzeni
Leyla Gencer (Norma); Fiorenza Cossotto (Adalgisa); Bruno Prevedi (Pollione); Ivo Vinco (Oroveso); Maria del Fante (Clotilde); Ottorino Begali (Flavio)
RECORDED BUT NOT PRINTED AS CD.
NOT REVIEWED IN PUPLICATIONS.
EXCERPTS AVAILABLE ON YOUTUBE.
NORMA Excerpts from RAI Broadcast [1965.07.24]
Vanne, e il cela entrambi Act I Scene VII
Adalgisa' .... da Ioantana Act I Scene VIII
Oh, Rimembranza! Act I Scene VIII
Il mira... Ei! Pollion!... Va parte qui.. Act I Scene IX
NORMA Excerpts from an In-House Tape [1965.08.05]
Svanir le voci... Act I Scene II
Sediziose voci, voci di guerra... Casta Diva... Fine al rito Act I Scene IV
Sgombra e la sacra selva... Eccola! Va, mi lascia... Act I Scene V
Vanne, e le cela entrambi... Act I Scene VII
Adalgisa' .... da Ioantana Act I Scene VIII
Il mira... Ei! Pollion!... Va parte qui.. Act I Scene IX
Dormono entrambi... Teneri figli... Act II Scene I
Mi chiami, o Norma... Mira o Norma Act II Scene III
Ei, tornera... Act II Scene VI
Squilla il bronzo del Dio... Norma! Che fu? Act II Scene VII
Al nostra tempio insulto ACT II Scene VIII
E desso... Si, Norma Act II Scene IX
In mia man alfin tu sei... Act II Scene X
All'ira vostra... Deh! Non voleri vittime Act II Scene XI & Finale
Pikovaya Dama [Live]
12.02.1961 PIKOVAYA DAMA
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro alla Scala
Nino Sanzogno
Antonio Annaloro (Ermanno); Leyla Gencer (Lisa); Maryana Radev (La
contessa); Sesto Bruscantini (Principe Jelenzky); Adriana Lazzarini (Paolini);
Walter Gullino (Cekalinski); Ivo Vinco (Surin); Angelo Mercuriali (Ciaplinski);
Leonardo Monreale (Narumov); Ivo Vinco (Conte Tomsky); Aurora Cattelani (La
Governante); Jeda Valtriani (Masha); Giuseppe Bertinazzo (Maestro di casa);
Edith Martelli (Prilepa)
GL – 2 CDs
PIKOVAYA DAMA 1961
FANFARE MAGAZINE
DAVID MASON GREENE
Tchaikovsky The Queen of Spades: Massenet Werther. Selections2. Werther.
• Carlo Felice Cillario, conductor; Feruccio Tagliavini, tenor (Werther); Leyla
Gencer, soprano (Charlotte); Mario Boriello, baritone (Albert); Giuliana
Tavolaccini, soprano (Sophie); Vito Susca, bass (Le Bailli); Raimondo
Botteghelli, tenor (Schmidt); Eno Mocchiutti, bass (Johann); Chorus & Orchestra
of the Teatro Verdi, Trieste; Nino Sanzogno, conductor; Leyla Gencer, soprano
(Lisa); Antonio Annaloro, tenor (Herman); Orchestra of the Teatro alla Scala,
Milan. • Arkadia CDHP599.2 [ADD]; two monaural discs: 68:08, 70:26.
Produced by Nikos Velissiotis. (Distributed by Qualiton.) 20, 19591. 2, I9602.
Live performance: Milan; Feb. Live performance: Trieste; Jan.
I reviewed an earlier (1951) Tagliavini performance of Werther (Bongiovanni
GBl 101/02) in a recent issue, and called it interesting but technically
lacking. This one seems to me at least marginally superior in every way, though
the sound is not up to state-of-the-art standards.
The intended emphasis here is not on Tagliavini but on
Leyla Gencer. That this Turkish soprano with her immense popularity and her
wide range of roles should have been wholly ignored by the commercial record
producers is one of the great mysteries. However, the so-called “pirates” have
made up for it with innumerable unauthorized recordings, of which this one has
a certain uniqueness. In 1954 Gencer, then at the start of her career, was
asked to play Charlotte in a pioneering TV production for RAI. She demurred,
mostly, it appears, because she did not want to be overshadowed by the
tenor-protagonist. But then Tullio Serafin stepped in and told her that it
would be good for her to learn to love a part that she thought she might not
like. So she accepted the offer and televised her role opposite Juan Oncina.
However, she sang Charlotte on stage only once in her long career—in Trieste
five years later, whence this recording.
Charlotte is usually sung by mezzos (Giulietta
Simionato in the Bongiovanni recording), but Gencer, with her rich firm lower
register, has no trouble with the tessitura. She is perhaps more restrained
than Simionato, but is quite convincing throughout, especially in the final
scenes. And, frankly, I like the sound of her voice better.
In 1959 Tagliavini had been singing for more than
twenty years, but is still recognizably Tagliavini. Some of the velvet may have
rubbed off, but the soft tones still caress and the loud ones seem less
ostentatious than in the earlier set. Clearly his concept of Werther has
matured and he is much more “into” the part than he was in 1951.
Mario Boriello is infinitely superior to the nearly
anonymous Gino Orlandini. His voice, per se, is nothing remarkable, but he
phrases with artistry and his diction is impeccable. In fact, it seems to me,
he makes Albert, small as the role is, a three-dimensional character. The other
male singers are a pretty rough bunch—which may be appropriate. Where I draw
the line is at Tavolaccini's fluttery, squeaky Sophie.
The recording is, both vocally and instrumentally,
close-up and slightly unreverberant. One hears every now and again a discreet
prompter. The audience is quiet. An occasional spatter of applause sounds as
though about twenty people are participating in it (the Teatro Verdi is a small
jewelbox of a house), though they are aroused to whoop and holler after
Werther's big third-act aria.
The “bonus” selections from The Queen of Spades
consist of Lisa's first-act aria and her “suicide” scene, with Annaloro as a
melodramatic Herman.
Everything is sung in Italian. An Italian-only
libretto is provided for the Massenet. There is an essay in Italian with the
goldarndest English translation you'll ever encounter. Sample: “exactly one
year later the touching Carlotta was written for the television: her amber
voice, her real tears, and with trepidation of the fate of Leyla Gencer.”
Recommended to the attention of sophisticated opera buffs.
OPERADIS
Recordings of The Queen of Spades by Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky are surveyed in the following publications:
Opera on Record 2 p.268; Celletti p.158; Opera on CD (1) p.92 (2) p.102 (3) p.113; MET p.557; MET (VID) p.338; Opera on Video p.159; Giudici p.129 (2) p.214; L’Avant-Scène Opéra No.119/120, mise à jour septembre 2004; American Record Guide May/June 2003 Vol.66 No.3 pp.54-63
OPERA NEWS
LINKS TO OPERA NEWS ARCHIVES RELATED WITH GENCER'S
PERFORMANCES
MACBETH
Look to the Lady > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... Opera News Leyla Gencer and Cornell MacNeil were the Macbeths in Florence in 1969.
Leyla Gencer and Cornell MacNeil were the Macbeths in Florence in 1969. ...
Opera News - Belisario
... impact was evident both at the triumphant 1836 premiere at La Fenice in Venice and
in the first modern revival (with Giuseppe Taddei and Leyla Gencer) in the ...
MARIA STUARDA
... Opera News Leyla Gencer and Cornell MacNeil were the Macbeths in Florence in 1969.
Leyla Gencer and Cornell MacNeil were the Macbeths in Florence in 1969. ...
Opera News - Belisario
... impact was evident both at the triumphant 1836 premiere at La Fenice in Venice and
in the first modern revival (with Giuseppe Taddei and Leyla Gencer) in the ...
MARIA STUARDA
I'll Never Stop Saying Maria > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... standing stock still in my living room, riveted into place by the final scene of
Maria Stuarda, as sung by the "Queen of the Pirates," soprano Leyla Gencer. ...
Maria Stuarda > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... (Pizzi also helmed the 1967 revival at the Maggio Musicale in Florence that starred
Leyla Gencer and Shirley Verrett as Mary and Elizabeth, respectively ...
Celletti, Il Teatro d'Opera in Disco by Rodolfo Celletti - Rizzoli - 1988
... standing stock still in my living room, riveted into place by the final scene of
Maria Stuarda, as sung by the "Queen of the Pirates," soprano Leyla Gencer. ...
Maria Stuarda > Opera News > The Met Opera Guild
... (Pizzi also helmed the 1967 revival at the Maggio Musicale in Florence that starred
Leyla Gencer and Shirley Verrett as Mary and Elizabeth, respectively ...
ABBREVIATIONS OF OPERADIS
(STU), "STUDIO" Recording
(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
(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
