RECORDINGS & REVIEWS
[from Macbeth to Pikovaya Dama]
14.01.1960 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Massimo di Palermo
Vittorio Gui
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
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
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
09.04.1968 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Grande Teatro La Fenice
Gianandrea Gavazzeni
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
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]
12.01.1969 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di Firenze
Bruno Bartoletti
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 Firenze
Riccardo Muti
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
18.05.1975 MACBETH
Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Comunale di Firenze
Riccardo Muti
11.11.1977 MACBETH
08.11.1979 MACBETH
11.02.1954 MADAMA BUTTERFLY
02.05.1967 MARIA STUARDA
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
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]
29.12.1969 MARIA STUARDA
25.08.1969 MARIA STUARDA
Recordings of Maria Stuarda by Gaetano Donizetti are surveyed in the
following publications:
Medea [Live]
15.12.1968 MEDEA
Recordings of Médée [Medea] by Luigi Cherubini are surveyed in the
following publications:
04.06.1969 MEDEA
20.03.1977 MEDEA IN CORINTO
Bonus Tracks
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:
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
17.10.1957 MONTE IVNOR
This recording is reviewed in the following publications:
Norma [Live]
18.07.1964 NORMA
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:
THE ASSOLUTA VOICE IN OPERA
09.01.1965 NORMA
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:
30.01.1965 NORMA
06.10.1966 NORMA
Recordings of Norma by Vincenzo Bellini are surveyed in the following
publications:
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]
Pikovaya Dama [Live]
12.02.1961 PIKOVAYA DAMA
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 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 ...
(STC), Composite "STUDIO" Recording made up from more than one source
(SCE), Composite "STUDIO" Recording of Excerpts from more than one source
(LI), "LIVE" Recording
(LE), "LIVE" Recording of Excerpts
(LC), "LIVE" Composite Recording from more than one performance
(LCE), Excerpts from more than one "LIVE" Performance
(RA), A Radio Performance
(RE), Excerpts from a Radio Performance
(RC), Composite Radio Performance from more than one broadcast
(RCE), Excerpts from more than one broadcast performance
(FI), Film or/and sound track of a film
(FE), Excerpts of an opera from a film or/and the sound track of a film
CELLETTI, Il Teatro d'Opera in Disco by Rodolfo Celletti - Rizzoli - 1988
EJS Discography, EJS: Discography of the Edward J. Smith Recordings - The Golden Age of Opera, 1956-71 by William Shaman, William J. Collins, and Calvin M. Goodwin - GreenwoodPress - 1994
GIUDICI, L'Opera in CD e Video by Elvio Giudici - il Saggiatore Milano - 1995. Second Edition - 1999 - is indicated by (2)
HARRIS, Opera Recordings - A Critical Guide by Kenn Harris - David and Charles - 1973
MARINELLI, Opere in Disco by Carlo Marinelli - Discanto Edizione - 1982
MET, The Metropolitan Opera Guide to Recorded Opera - edited by Paul Gruber - Thames and Hudson - 1993
MET(VID), The Metropolitan Guide to Opera on Video - edited by Paul Gruber - W.W. Norton & Co. Ltd. - 1997
More EJS, More EJS: Discography of the Edward J. Smith Recordings by William Shaman - William J. Collins - Calvin M. Goodwin - Greenwood Press 1999
NEWTON (Verdi), Verdi - Tutti i libretti d'opera edited by Piero Mioli
PENGUIN, The Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs by Edwin Greenfield - Robert Layton - Ivan March - Penguin Books 1993
Discos Gramófono (Barcelona), Compañía del Gramófono Sociedad Anónima Española
Gramófono (Barcelona), Compañía del Gramófono Sociedad Anónima Española
