RECORDING OF THE MONTH- December 2011: DON GIOVANNI by MOZART (René Jacobs)

Jacobs's Don Giovanni, like his Le Nozze di Figaro, is anything but expected. He has never been one to follow the mainstream.

If you have read my blog in June 2010, you know my intense appreciation for Giulini's 1959 Don Giovanni. Wächter, Taddei, Sutherland, Schwarzkopf, Alva, Sciutti et al. I think that for all it's worth, Giulini's is the closest one can get to a perfect Don Giovanni. I still feel that way... BUT this set is a close second in many ways, and as far as period practice, it is nigh unto perfect. That is René Jacobs's intention. It seems odd to me that a recording that is based on historical fact and what we know to be Mozart's intentions could be considered new, innovative and groundbreaking... but somehow, all of Jacobs's Mozart recordings are.

But even with controversy (this recording, chalk full of appogiaturas, sudden tempo changes and occasional ornamentation), is among the greatest documentations of the work on disc.

The cast is as follows:

Don Giovanni - Johannes Weisser

Leporello - Lorenzo Ragazzo

Donna Anna - Olga Pasichnyk

Don Ottavio - Kenneth Tarver

Donna Elvira - Alexandrina Pendatchanska

Zerlina - Sunhae Im

Masetto - Nicolay Borchev

Commendatore - Alessandro Guernzoni

Just like his Nozze, Jacobs really emphasizes the drama on this disc above all else. One device that he tends to use for this drama is the use of sudden dramatic tempo changes. I am not entirely convinced on this. One of the brilliant things about Mozart (especially in his Da Ponte settings) is his use of basically one consistant tempo throughout the entire opera. But while his tempo shifts obliterate THAT aspect, they keep the listener entirely engaged in the drama. Like his other recordings, the continuo keeps the recitativo secco moving with a clear and distinct purpose and dramatic intention. Some may think that this kind of solo continuo commentary is great for the buffos like Nozze, but for the more serious plot lines, it is distracting. I can see that, however I find the pianoforte player to alter the manner in which he improvises perfectly for the darker ambience. With that said, in this Dramma giacoso Jacobs tends to on occasion focus a little too heavily on the "giacoso" part for my tastes. Although I admit, in current productions, it does have a tendency to over play the drama, making it too heavy. Jacobs was quoted calling it, "the least known of the Da Ponte operas, even though it's the most frequently performed" he goes on to say, "we much prefer the risk of displeasing the public to betraying the work." This is a sentiment I can get behind. I think the opera world needs more people who think like that.

In the accompanying booklet he discusses some of the decisions he made for those who question his judgement. In particular, his choice of doing the Vienna production of 1788. This differs from the usual pastiche one sees of the Vienna production combined with the Prague production for crowd- and singer-pleasability. He choses to be faithful to one version in its entirety. The only real noticeable differences are a chunk in the middle of act two completely rewritten and the exclusion of Don Ottavio's aria Il mio tesoro. The other decision the ignorant music world questions is his casting of Don Giovanni in Johannes Weisser.

This young Norwegian lyric baritone was 27 years old at the time of the recording. When one thinks of some of the most famous Don Giovannis over the last 100 years, they include Ezio Pinza, George London and Cesare Siepi... I much prefer the young, fresh Weisser to all of the above. If you would like a refresher on WHY, please refer back to my previous Don Giovanni blog here.

Weisser approaches this young, licentious nobleman from a very understated place. No grand gestures intended to symbolize all evil in the world or anything... just exactly what the character requires. A young, over privileged, guy with enough power and money to make Solomon blush, and nothing to do with it. His outlet has become chasing women. He is charming, good-looking, selfish and rich. We all know somebody like that. That is what Da Ponte's characters are all about. Not symbols and statements, just honest human characters. Weisser struts and dances through the score with his light, silvery baritone. He delivers a slower tempo, but high energy 'finch'han dal vino' before the act 1 finale, he floats through 'Deh vieni alla finestra' in act 2 with a finesse that could woo the coldest of spinster house maids, with ornamentation that is neither expected nor forced. His blood curdling scream at the end of the opera as he is drug down to Hell is perhaps the most convincing I have heard on record. His style of seduction is deferent from the way it is usually heard, and probably a much more effective strategy in all honesty. His approach is that of overtly sweet and gentle, which woos the ladies into a false sense of security that they realize only after he has already deserted them. One may prefer a bit more bravura and blatant arrogance in their Don Giovanni, but his is definitely fresh. He is young and has a long way to go still in his career. His voice will become better with age and his characterization of this great role will grow with time and experience, but his first documentation of the role here is of an incredibly respectable quality and uniqueness that should be applauded. 

His partner in crime, for the most part against his will, is Leporello. Sung here by a friend of ours, Lorenzo Ragazzo, whom we heard as Figaro in Jacobs's Nozze recording. This role may be an even better fit than his wonderful rendition of Figaro. He retains all of the buffo aspects of his character being one of the most successfully comedic examples of the role I have heard on record. His almost flawless Leporello is filled with thousands of mercurial acting nuances that come through the voice as clearly as if we were watching him live.

Alexandrina Pendatchanska brings a truly Bulgarian flare to this hot-blooded lady. She really makes clear the indecision of the character as to whether she hates Giovanni with a passion or is still madly in love with him. She is obviously a favourite of Jacobs as she was previously heard as an excellent Vitellia on his La Clemenza di Tito recording. Even with her excellent portrayal, and characterization I feel as if she may be slightly miscast. Throughout the set one can hear her constant struggle as to whether to "let it out" or hold back in a more lyrical manner. It feels through much of the opera as if she is holding back beyond what is truly comfortable. Is it possible her voice is just too large for this Mozartean role???

The other soprano here with a slightly Slavic flare is the Ukrainian Olga Pasichnyk as Donna Anna. Some reviewers say she is a bit too much of a drama queen, some say she often hovers dangerously close to being flat and is reluctant to give the character any real dramatic dimension... in lieu of these contrary statements I will say that she sings the role with the drama of a young girl who doesn't understand these new feelings she is experiencing and she sometimes tends to project a very inward interpretation which could be explained by somebody who is uncomfortable with all these feelings that they do not truly understand. Her voice is clear and distinct with a nice intention behind every phrase. Pasichnyk's rendering of Donn'Anna's final aria, "Non mi dir, bell'idol mio" is quite possibly the most breathtakingly gorgeous version of the aria I have ever heard in my life. Making even Dame Joan Sutherland's pale in comparison. As a singer with a voice of notable size, she maintains throughout the aria a dynamic that begs the listener to stop what they're doing and listen that much closer. She glides through the long, soaring lines with a warm, but glistening tone and a liquid legato that if one allows, could bring tears to the eyes of even the most hardened among us. The way she sails through just about the longest phrase I have ever heard, from ch'io mora in measure 46 through a beautiful embellishment and on through the opening phrase of the next section, on one impeccable breath can truly stop the listeners breathing and slow the heart rate, as if they are suspended in a stratosphere of pure beauty for just that one moment… and isn't that what art is all about?

Sunhae Im brings a one of a kind sass to Zerlina that gives her a fresh new attitude problem that works wonders for the character. Don't you tire of the little innocent, naive, BORING way most people play that role? Her two arias, which we have all heard sung badly an uncountable number of times, have new life here with elegant phrasing, dramatic intention and unique ornamentation. Masetto is adequately buffo-ish and The Commendatory is stately enough, but obviously can't compare in vocal stature to Gottlob Frick, or even more so, Matti Talvela on Böhm's set.

Last but certainly not least is Kenneth Tarver as Don Ottavio. He sings with a light, lyric fortitude that fits the music vocally perfect. His diction is clear, his tone gorgeous and lean and his understanding of this young man's struggle over the course of the opera is rarely heard with such honesty in opera houses today. While I completely support Jacobs's choice to be faithful to the Viennese Version, I find it a great shame that we don't get to hear Tarver sing the wonderful "Il mio tesoro" as well. But if I have to choose one, "Dalla sua pace" satisfies entirely. And it may be worth losing "Il mio tesoro" to get Elvira's final aria,  "Mi tradi"in the Vienna version.

Years ago Maria Callas criticized the habit of performers to sing and play Mozart as if they were on their "tip-toes." It doesn't take a musicologist to see that this is exactly what René Jacobs wanted to break down with these Mozart recordings. And with the exception perhaps of Alexandrina Pendatchanska's cautious approach to Donna Elvira's music, he has done this excellently. Not by rethinking the older customs, but by returning to what may have been the original intent.

One of the greatest Don Giovanni recordings available, it hasn't replaced my Giulini recording, but it has a very well earned spot on my shelf right next to it and the Gardiner set with Gilfry.

- Christopher Michael Kelley

(Next month: Così fan tutte by René Jacobs)

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- November 2011: LE NOZZE DI FIGARO by MOZART (René Jacobs)

It has been quite a while since I have written a review here. My apologies. Sometimes life just gets the best of you. Also, I know that I have already written a review on Le Nozze di Figaro. This is the first review of a three part series. René Jacobs has recorded six of Mozart's operas to date. He started by recording the two late Opera Seria pieces, Idomeneo and La Clemenza di Tito. The idea was to give them new life. By performing them as close as possible to what we think/know Mozart wanted and expected in the original performances, we rid ourselves of the stale and sometimes odd and even inappropriate traditions previously associated with Mozart. He brought the Opera Seria pieces back to life and gave them a new energy. Then, as is only logical, he moved to the da Ponte operas. Three operas that are the backbone of everything that opera is today. In my opinion these operas NEEDED this. He reminded us what it is all about.

What is different you may ask? Well first of all, he matches somewhat more closely the singers' ages with the roles they are singing. What a novel idea! What else? He uses period instruments and performance practice, and really what makes these recordings alive, great and SO much better than the others is the recit. He treats the recit as music. Not just the boring stuff that gets you to the next aria, and that is so important in Mozart.

The rhythms and speech patterns mirror the language and conversation so perfectly even those who do not speak Italian can understand to an extent what is going on. It is as if this whole opera is happening in real time. This, of course, all rests on the continuo player on the Pianoforte, Nicolau de Figueiredo. Undoubtedly the best I have ever heard in my life, recorded or live. He keeps the energy going by a constant arpeggio that mirrors the natural tempo of the conversation, he slips in an occasional musical reference from somewhere else in the opera, acting as much as a commentator on the action as he is an accompanist. If this were live, the audience would hardly need supertitles at all.

The one thing that separates these recordings most from all others is a very controversial topic - Ornamentation. A very large number of people in and out of the business are mortally offended by ornamentation in Mozart, which quite frankly is completely ridiculous.

Yes, Mozart was the first to start writing out "exactly" what he wanted, so you can't go as crazy as you would with Handel. But part of that is just because you don't NEED to. The music by itself is phenomenal... not something you can say for most Baroque composers...

But it is indisputable that BAROQUE was the musical world he came from. The performance practices of that time period did NOT just disappear over night. When he wrote operas, he knew that some ornamentation would be happening. That is just what the singers of the time period did. It's a fact. These recordings show us that, and it is all the better for it. Do I love every ornament and embellishment that is done? No. But that's not the point. Each singer has their own take on the music, but how exciting is it to know that it won't be exactly the same as all the other Nozze recordings?!.....and honestly, the decorations and embellishments that are on this disc were chosen very carefully, and not one of them distract from the music.

Now that that's out of the way, on with René Jacobs's recording of Le Nozze di Figaro for Harmonia Mundi.

Lorenzo Regazzo - Figaro

Patrizia Ciofi - Susanna

Véronique Gens - La Contessa

Simon Keenlyside - Il Conte

Angelika Kirchschlager - Cherubino

Marie McLaughlin - Marcellina

Antonio Abete - Bartolo

Kobie van Rensburg - Basilio/Curzio

Everybody who has read this blog knows that I ALWAYS favour older recordings. I personally feel like contemporary singers and especially conductors have lost any sense of individuality. No style of their own. No reason to listen to them. But this has slowly but surely become my favourite Nozze recording. Hands down.

René Jacobs, originally from Ghent, Belgium, started his career as a boy chorister in the cathedral there. When he grew up, he continued to sing and became one of the best countertenors of his time. He made many recordings of lesser known baroque works and as countertenors have a relatively short lifespan, he moved his attentions to conducting. And the world should be thanking him for this.

Lorenzo Regazzo is a fantastic Figaro. They finally got it right. They cast a bass in the role, but a bass that DOESN'T sound like an old man! Even with his dark tone, he sounds young and vibrant with all the the masculine virility that Figaro needs. His expertly executed embellishments in "Non piu andrai" are the only thing keeping me engaged during that aria. Why that is the most famous aria in this opera I will never know. But with his energetic and convivial ornaments, it brings the close of act one to life in a way that draws the listener in. He is a particularly strong Figaro, but encompasses such a wide range of feeling we remember how human these characters are. We get the bitter and aggressive determination in "Se vuol ballare" and gentle, love struck relief at the end with "Pace, pace mio dolce tesoro." The way he interacts with the count is ideal. The constant back and forth, chess-like struggle for power between the two is clearly audible.

It is a back and forth game of wits for the whole opera between Figaro and the Count. And Simon Keenlyside is a perfect match. The energy reminds us that these are two YOUNG guys with a power struggle. One has a title and one has brains. Through Keenlyside's articulation and style alone, one can hear him for what he is. He has inherited all of this very young and he has never wanted for anything... until now. He is spoiled and selfish and because of his wild Spanish temper, he can at times lose control and become dangerous... but at the core, he is just a kid who wants his way. He isn't a horrible person. Keenlyside's may be among the best Counts ever recorded on disc. He is particularly strong in the menacing sections like in the act II trios and the act III duet with Susanna.

Patrizia Ciofi's Susanna is absolutely delightful. I may be inclined to cast a slightly lighter voice in the role, but she handles the lighter colours and playfulness with an excellent distinction. One can almost hear the laughter when she is dressing up Cherubino like a girl. Her "Deh vieni" breathes naturally. The slower tempo accentuates the sensuality that is inherent in this beautiful, secret declaration of love. Some may argue that she slightly over does the embellishments, but whether it is your personal preference or not, it maintains the appropriate style and mood and she executes it beautifully. This aria is where the heavier voice really does pay off in it's rich, warm colours.

Speaking of Cherubino, a better Cherubino has never been heard. Angelika Kirchschlager keeps the adolescent boy alive and well. Every line is delivered with an urgency that truly only exists in the realm of adolescence. Her ornamentation is fantastic and suits the arias perfectly, reminiscent of the version of "Voi che sapete" with the ornaments written out in Mozart's own hand.

Véronique Gens is a great Contessa. Adequately girlish, yet quite obviously on the verge of womanhood. Reminding us all that this is the same Rosina that was wooed only a few years earlier in The Barber of Seville. She was 16 then... so it stands to reason that she can't be any older than 20. Directors and actors alike tend to forget this fact. Her "Porgi amor" is beautifully shaped and moulded, and her "Dove sono" is spirited and lively with an energy of new hope only accentuated by her excellent ornaments.

The rest of the cast is excellent. Bartolo spectacular and Marcellina and Basilio, great enough to get their act 4 arias left in. I do think Nuria Rial has a beautifully rich, warm tone that has no business singing a role like Barbarina. This role should be exclusive territory of soubrettes. That is the only way any of her (small) contribution to the plot makes any sense at all.

Now on to Jacobs conducting, aside from his earth shattering addition of ornamentation... (sarcasm).

His orchestral balance is entirely unusual. Those who are used to a Solti or Karajan-like orchestra will hardly recognize this opera with its wind-heavy orchestral balance. The strings never take a position of having the main line, and this is completely appropriate for Mozart and his time period. A tradition that should have been corrected some time ago. Jacob's tempi are honestly freer than the majority of conductors. The count's authoritative pronouncements are taken at a quicker tempo for an extra kick of decisiveness. There are other moments of this kind of flexibility as well, like in the act 3 duet of Susanna and the Count, and while sometimes they can be disconcerting, they always have excellent dramatic intention... which IS the point, so it is easily forgiven. His tempi on the whole tend to be on the quick side but he knows where to give it time. Notably in Marcellina-Susanna's duet, the fandango and the last scene in G major when the Count begs forgiveness.

René Jacobs is reviving Mozart. Bringing it back to what it was intended to be. Not a museum exhibition, but a living breathing organism that when performed, through it's humanity and life can touch even the coldest hearted and uncultured among us.

- Christopher Michael Kelley

(Next month: Don Giovanni by René Jacobs)

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- July 2011: Schubert's Winterreise with Gerald Moore 1955/ Hotter vs. Fischer-Dieskau

Franz Schubert, possibly among the most underrated of all composers (in my humble opinion), composed his second song cycle, die Winterreise D.911 between 1827 and 1828. It was 5 years after his first cycle and 5 years after he had been diagnosed with syphilis: the disease which went on to take his life at the young age of barely 31 years of age.

By the time he was writing Winterreise, his illness was rather advanced and this song cycle took up the majority of his time and energy. It seems to have excited him from the beginning, as is shown in his friend, Joseph Spaun's description of the first 'performance' of the cycle, Schubert playing and singing it to his friends at Schober's (another friend) house. Spaun reports that when they didn't particularly care much for the gloomy, mournful tone of the pieces, Schubert said to them, "I like these songs more than all the rest, and you will come to like them as well."

The cycle was written in two halfs. The first, dating to February 1827, and the second, later in 1828. It comprised of 24 poems by Wilhelm Müller. The song cycle is not composed in the same order as the poems were originally published. Some singers in the past have attempted to perform the songs in their original, poetic line-up, but these performances always feel rather contrived and affected. The trust must be given to Franz Schubert.

We see how much these songs took of Schubert's time in the letters and accounts of his friends. By January 1828 he was rarely seen attending the still popular Schubertiads. His friend and poet, Mayrhofer noticed this change not only in his life, but in the music as well.

The choice of Winterreise proved how much more serious the composer had become. Seriously ill for a long time - winter had set in for him.

It is true that his music had undergone a major change in this time. Take for example the opening bars of "Gute Nacht", the first song of the cycle. It opens with a pulsating wandering motive similarly to that in Die schöne Müllerin... but the radical difference in feeling that is evoked shows just how much he had grown in those years since his illness had set in.

This cycle probably proves as the pinnacle of his compositional acheivements, however it is a different kind of composition than his Ballad like Lieder such as Erlkönig and Gretchen am Spinnrade, but Müller was not Goethe. He was a different type of poet. The unpretentiousness and simplicity of Müller's poems are matched by the simplicity of Schubert's musical settings. "His sole interest is in the depth of feeling, not in psychological over-refinements" says Fischer-Dieskau.

Franz Schubert took a group of relatively unexciting, mediocre poetry and made it a cycle that changed Lieder forever and literally defined what a "song cycle" is.

Out of the many wonderful recordings that have been made, two in particular stand out. The fascinating coincidence is that these two were recorded in the same year with the same pianist.

1955 with Gerald Moore

Hans Hotter vs. Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau

Hotter's recording was released first and by '55 he was a very well established and respected singer in the world of opera and Lieder. Especially recognized for his Winterreise. Fischer-Dieskau was barely 30 years old upon this release and was not yet recognized as the Lied interpreting champion that he would one day become.

Gerald Moore is undoubtedly among the greatest collaborative pianists to have ever lived and graced the world of Lieder. The way he articulates these pieces shows a superlative artistry that has yet to be beaten. In particular, his use of subtle and varied stacatto in pieces like "Gefor'ne Tränen", "Auf dem Flusse", and "Letzte Hoffnung" is especially noteworthy in the perfect creation atmosphere, something so many pianists through the years have failed at. He was one of the first pianists to move beyond the role of accompanist and show us all how much of a partner pianist and singer need to be in this artform. The music that comes out of his fingers is entirely motivated by the text and the communication of whoever is on the other side of that keyboard. Listening to these two recordings exhibits this as clear as day.

First of all, probably the biggest difference between these two artists (Hotter and D. F.-D.) is that Hotter's approach is the perfect example of communicating these texts without "acting them out"... he communicates every emotion and evokes every mood in an effective and personal way while always maintaining a feel of "3rd person." He narrates and comments on the events of the sad wanderer while watching over. Fischer-Dieskau is much more personally involved with his interpretation. He feels what this anonymous lover is feeling. He sucks us into this epilogue of sorts and when he weeps, we weep, when he has a glimmering moment of hope (however much in vain) we feel that glimmer.

The atmosphere that is set by Hotter's readings is a heavy one. This is not a recording that one can casually listen to while getting ready for a dinner party. The haunting, morose feelings that it leaves with the listener will linger like the love that was lost before this cycle even begins. This cycle, while performed originally by a baritone, was actually composed for high voice. Hotter, being a bass, transposes these songs down quite a bit, doing this, they sometimes lose some of their brilliance of tone. They get a bit muddled in the lower registers and even in the top, clarity is not necessarily his strongest suit. Word colouring and the ability to evoke through the means of language, however, are. His dark, molasses-like voice in pieces like "Die Krähe" send a chill down the spine of any coherent listener.

The young Fischer-Dieskau may not have the advantage of years under his belt, but he has the unique gift of individualizing words. Of all the words sung in these 24 poems, while one listens to it, it feels as if no word is ever repeated. The ups and downs of this cycle are showcased by his vigorous colour shifts. Especially in the early songs of the journey, his occasional outbursts leave the listener nothing less than slightly disturbed. His unmatched clarity of tone and language creates a delicacy and subtleness that chills the listener like a ghost recalling these distant and painful memories. Instead of just presenting a dejected lover who has lost hope, he lets us into these poems in a way that makes US the lover, he finds his way into that small hidden place in us and forces us to feel.

Each artist has a stamp of uniqueness by the way they each end the final song. Fischer-Dieskau goes out with a bang and proclaims the final line, with a harsh fortitude, while Hotter fades away like the fine morning mist. What each means to a listener could be infinite, but I am not writing about the psychological implications of Schubert's view of the meaning of Müller's texts. It's about two documentations that one can experience to form their own comprehensions.

Of all the recordings that exist, these two fascinate me most. Other excellent variations are Gerhard Hüsch, Julius Patzak's, Peter Pears's (which uses the some of the original versions of Schubert's songs, before the revision), Matthias Goerne's live recording with Alfred Brendel, Christian Gerhaher's and Fischer-Dieskau's version from 1966 with Jörg Demus (Dietrich's favorite of all the versions he recorded). Some of them are in the original keys which gives them an intricacy that can be lost when transposed down.

Two other recordings of note: Christopher Maltman's latest Wigmore Hall performance with Graham Johnson. He has new transpositions that put the songs very high in the baritone voice so as to counter the original keys better that sit very high in the tenor voice. Also the Peter Harvey's recording with Gary Cooper. They perform on a period Pianoforte and in a period temperament, so it can occasionally sound lightly out of tune to our 21st century ear, but is probably closer to Schubert's sound world that the piece was written in.

Of the two that were discussed, if I had to choose one, I would choose Fischer-Dieskau's. I believe that it is the recording that set the new standard for all Lieder that has been performed and/or recorded since. I think it has more "life" and brings the listener into a more personal and intimate place. However, Hotter has a very unique way of making that original text shine through Schubert's music with a life of its own.

Two must have recordings for any fan of Lieder or art song.

-Christopher Michael Kelley

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- June 2011: EUGEN ONEGIN by TCHAIKOVSY

Евгений Онегин by Пётр Ильич Чайковский... or Yevgeny Onegin or Eugene Onegin by Pyotr Ilyich Chaikovsky... or Eugen Onegin by Pjotr Iljitsch Tschaikowski... or HOWEVER you spell these damn Russian names... really is one of the greatest musical accomplishments in opera. It was a piece described by Pjotr Iljitsch himself as "Lyric scenes in three acts" the Libretto is by the composer himself and Konstantin Stepanovich Shilovsky after Alexander Pushkin's novel in verse of 1833 of the same name. It was first performed on 17. March 1879 in Moscow at the Malïy Theatre by students of the Moscow Conservatory. The professional premier was on 11. January 1881 at the Bol'shoy Theatre.

The idea of setting possibly the most beloved work of Russian fiction to music was not originally Tchaikovsky's. It was proposed to him by a contralto by the name of Yelizaveta Lavrovskaya and was immediately rejected by the composer on a famous letter to his brother, Modest, and referred to as "wild." He recognized that this novel was loved not as much for the tale as it was for the telling - for Pushkin's poetry. But once the idea was put into Pjotr's head... He couldn't seem to get it out. To make a long story short he realized eventually what critics have failed to recognize since. With music, he could perform exactly those functions for which Pushkin's narrative voice was so prized, and in particular, HIS music was ideal. In letters to his brother, he states that since not much action will be occurring on stage, the action must be in the music. Through finding this musical voice he created a sort of stylized operatic realism, similar to La Traviata or Manon but for many, it stands even higher in its national tradition than they in theirs. Its realism was fundamental in determining its style. Focusing primarily on the complex emotional lives of the characters.

He cut quite a bit of Pushkin's original text, but what was left preserves much of Pushkin's original text. Some of the major changes including Monsieur Triquet's couplets (Shilovsky) as well as Lensky's arioso of act I and Gremin's of act III (both composer), but the first composed and one of the most important sections of the work is Tatiana's letter scene, to a completely unaltered Pushkin text.

This opera has been highly criticized, primarily I think, just because Tchaikovsky himself is often criticized. He is treated with condescension, typically regarded as entirely naive and composing on nothing more than a relatively infantile level of personal identification. It is easy to see where these opinions come from when reading his letters to his brother and nowhere more than in the letters regarding Eugen Onegin, in his ingenuous mooning over Tatiana. But when one truly listens to the music here, any perceptive musician can see the sophistication in Tchaikovsky's techniques. It is every bit as effective as Pushkin's lyrics. People often criticize its lack of inherent Russianness, but I argue that it is its Russianness that makes this piece work, it may not be a Russianness like Boris Godunov or Prince Igor, but much of this piece is underlined with a feel of Russian folk music and style of the 19th Century. It is all based on an essential realism of Russian life and culture that most certainly CAN be heard throughout these lyric scenes. It is possibly an urbane, relatively European Russianness... but a Russianness that I think grounds this whole work in an elegance that many Western ears don't hear as inherently "Russian." These are topics that will certainly be in constant dialogue for years to come, but the focus of this article is one particular recording of this ingenious and personally moving work.

The Wiener Staatsoper has been doing Eugen Onegin on and off since its conception. But until recently Russian was not a language that was heard very often in the opera world outside of Russia, not the least due to the linguistic hurdles that come with a Slavic text. In fact even after Herbert von Karajan adopted a policy of performing works only in their original languages during his term in Vienna from 1956-1964, Eugen Onegin was still being done in German translation. The first time Onegin was heard in Vienna in Russian was in May of 1988. They used the old sets of Jürgen Rose but it was directed by Grischa Asagaroff and this production was the first at the Staatsoper to be conducted by Seiji Ozawa who, in 1992, four years later, would become their musical director.

This is a live recording from 20. May 1988 recorded by Orfeo D'Or.

Eugen Onegin - Wolfgang Brendel

Tatiana - Mirella Freni

Vladimir Lenski - Peter Dvorsky

Olga - Rohangiz Yachmi

Prince Gremin - Nicolai Ghiaurov

Larina - Gertrude Jahn

Filipyevna - Margaritha Lilowa

Triquet - Heinz Zednik

Ein Hauptmann - Peter Köves

Saretzki - Robert Kerns

Conductor - Seiji Ozawa

The whole piece opens with a reference to Tatiana's letter scene. This gives the impression that Tchaikovsky's main character really is the young Tatiana, so we'll start there. Probably one of the most central elements of this production's success was Mirella Freni as Tatiana. After a full career of the lyric, and even some spinto, Italianate heroines, Freni decided to pick up a number of Russian roles in the last ten years of her career, this being one of the most important. Even slightly past her prime (54 years old) she is in remarkable voice. Capable of colouring her music with every necessary emotional nuance and maintaining a beautiful Italianate tone. She is admittedly a bit old for this particular role. It is a character that relies greatly on her youth... her naivety... her vulnerability. Freni does amazingly with all of these even though the tambour of her voice is incredibly mature (and naturally it should be), however she was granted the gift of always having a rather youthful sounding voice anyway.

Wolfgang Brendel is an ideally characterized Onegin. He portrays an Onegin who is a fine balance of the elements that make him real. He is a young, privileged man who is emotionally uninvolved with life. Drifting around from one excitement to the next. He is selfish, but not entirely heartless, which is nice after so many actors play him as extremely mean. It is not that he is "mean" but that he is unconcerned with anybody but himself, a bit cold out of the boredom he experiences in his life. We see the moment where he awakens from the haze he has been living in and then it is made clear the moment where he realizes he has quite possibly lost his only shot at happiness. The role is sung impeccably even if his tone is not quite as naturally beautiful as some of the other great interpreters of the role, BUT even with his slightly "dry" tone, he gives an excellent portrayal of this troubled young man.

Peter Dvorsky as Lenski is one of the best parts of this production. He gives a performance that is completely committed. He offers a personally involved portrayal of the role which helps the listener truly empathize. From his enamored love scene with the oblivious Olga in the first act, through his enraged, embarrassed and hopeless outburst in the second act through his complete resignation, knowing that he will most likely be killed by his best friend who has seemingly taken everything he cares about away from him. His round and impassioned tenor soars through the first two acts and does it as if the role were written for him.

Nicolai Ghiaurov sings a role here that has become the one of the favoured cameo roles for only the greatest aging bassi. (I actually had the privilege to see Ferruccio Furlanetto sing the role at the Salzburger Festspiele.) Ghiaurov was one of the greatest singing actors to grace the world of opera. In this small role of one scene and one beautiful arioso, he shines. At this point he had had an amazing career, had seen life and the world, and had been married to Mirella Freni for about ten years. We can hear that experience mirrored in Prince Gremin who has settled down to a new wife that brings him, finally, true joy. The inward intimacy of his one aria touches the audience in a place where few performers have been able to reach. Even without Ghiaurov's amazing performance histroy, his performance here is enough to justify him as an artist.

Seiji Ozawa's debut at the Wiener Staatsoper was an incredibly involved one. His conducting of this elegant and sophisticated piece shows just why he was chosen to head the musical direction in Vienna as principal conductor. He leads this piece with a kind of abandonment that brings it to life, giving musical expression to every foreboding, longing and disappointment that is pent up in Tchaikovsky's score... releasing them into the atmosphere of the audience. He shows us the real difference between an opera and "Lyrical scenes" that we so often hear spoken about but on this disc we actually get to hear. Free from all the formal constraints and superfluities, he captures the characterizations with precision and partnership with the singers. I find some of his tempi a bit TOO abandoned, wishing he would chill out a bit and take his time, letting the grandiose elements of Late Imperial Russia take over, allowing the music to breathe the way he does in Gremin's aria. I find myself craving this particularly in Onegin and Lenski's act two duet immediately before the duel. His reckless speed does little to allow this complex relationship and social custom to really set in for the modern audience, and his dancing Polonaise before act III lilts and twirls with all of the decadence one imagines at a 19th century ball of the privileged, but is lacking some of the grand opulence that, say, Levine's recording has.

If one is looking for a first time recording of this great work, I would firstly recommend the 1989 recording by Levine with Sir Thomas Allen, Mirella Freni, Anne Sofie von Otter and Neil Shicoff. I think it is among the best renderings out there. Also the DVD of the 2007 Met production with Hvorostovsky & Fleming conducted by Gergiev is undeniably phenominal in singing, acting and production, and Gergiev is an undeniable master of Russian music.

This '88 production from Vienna, however, is a histroical landmark and a wonderful reading of this sophisticated and complex work, and definitely worth acquiring for collectors or Onegin connoisseurs.

- Christopher Michael Kelley

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- April 2011: DON CARLO by VERDI

Giuseppe Verdi, considered by many to be the greatest composer of Italian opera, worked most of his life attempting to woo the French audiences by writing a great French Grand Opera. In the early 1850s he was approached by the Paris Opéra to write them a piece. The subject of Schiller's Don Carlos was suggested to Verdi - and rejected by him - as a possibility. This work would end up being Les vêpres siciliennes. He was again commissioned for a work in Paris in 1865. The new director at the Paris Opéra, Perrin, discussed numerous topics for this work, primarily with Verdi's French publisher and friend, Escudier. Verdi wanted to set King Lear, a piece that was very dear to his heart that he always wanted to compose but never got the chance, but it was deemed too lacking in spectacle for French Grand Opera. They thought Cleopatra was better, but the lovers wouldn't arouse sufficient sympathy. However, on returning to the subject of Don Carlos, Verdi now considered it "a magnificent drama." Even so, Verdi saw a need to add two new scenes (one between Phillip and the Inquisitor, and one between Phillip and Posa), also the story posed some issues. One being how incredibly long it was. Verdi had to find some places to make cuts. He did this as he usually did by actively overseeing the writing of the libretto (Joseph Méry and Camille du Locle) and advising on it from large structural matters to the most minute details, like phrasing and vocabulary.

This massive work brought on a most arduous of rehearsal periods in 1866. During this time Verdi made some major changes to the libretto like an additional scene for Elisabeth at the beginning of Act V. By February of 1867 rehearsals were coming to a close and it was clear that the work was far too long. Verdi then went to make substantial cuts, namely the Prelude and Introduction to Act I, part of the Phillip-Posa duet in Act II and both the Elisabeth-Eboli duet and Carlos-Phillip duet in Act IV. The premiere was not entirely well received and the work sort of vanished from the repertory after 1869. There were some early Italian revivals of the work in translation, but the length still proved a problem. in 1872 Verdi himself revised the score. He restored some of his early cuts and he cut some new things. in 1882-3 he made a full scale revision of the work, to make the size more manageable, partly in order to replace some pieces he now found unsatisfactory. Important cuts were the whole of Act I (though Carlos's aria was moved to the following Act), the ballet and it's scene, and the Act V chorus. Other scenes were revised, rewritten or reordered. La Scala premiered this new 4-Act version and then two years later a final version which restored Act I was published and started being performed. It is clear to see why we don't see this opera done much. When a company decides to do this piece there are so many questions. What language? It is often done in Italian, although a true Italian "version" does not exist. Only Italian translations. Which version? Or should they do a hybrid version? Whichever version one chooses, it is important to remember that this work is considered by many to be the pinnacle of French Grand Opera style... and written by an Italian!

On the subject of style, it should be noted that after it's 1867 premiere was the first time claims started to be made about Verdi being influenced by Wagner. At this point in time, Wagner's mature works, Tristan und Isolde (1859) and Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (1867), were sweeping the world of opera, so it was not a crazy conclusion to draw. Examples that were used were moments in the duets between Phillip and the Inquisitor and between Phillip and Posa. There are moments when the vocal writing is entirely declamatory. Melody vanishes from the singers and the orchestra takes it over. When the singers are silent, the orchestra seems to be filling the audience in on what the characters are thinking... these were techniques that were considered to be entirely Germanic and entirely Wagnerian, however it is important to mention that the exact same thing could be seen in act III between Rigoletto and Sparafucile in Verdi's Rigoletto sixteen years earlier; eight years prior to Wagner even premiering a work with such compositional tactics. Aside from that, Verdi, while he was most aware of Wagner's presence in the world of opera theoretically, didn't see an opera of Wagner's until the 1871 Italian debut of Lohengrin four years later. The claims of either man "copying" the other are completely based in bias and not remotely in fact, but that's a different blog...

Of all of the recordings of this great French Grand Opera, there are a couple that I think stand above them all in terms of well-roundedness and enjoyment. The one I chose is essentially the original five-act version, only sung in Italian. This selection does not reflect my own personal language preference. I do not feel strongly for either language, but if pressed to decide, I would probably choose French.

This recording, however, contains all other positive aspects of the opera that can be found.

It is EMI's 1970 recording conducted by Carlo Maria Giulini with the Ambrosian Opera Chorus and the Royal Opera House Orchestra, Covent Garden.

Don Carlos - Plácido Domingo

Elisabetta di Valois - Montserrat Caballé

Eboli - Shirley Verrett

Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa - Sherrill Milnes

Filippo II - Ruggero Raimondi

Grand Inquisitor - Giovanni Foiani

First of all, Verrett is not necessarily my favorite Eboli. She understands the role and is certainly fiery in her approach, however the singing (especially the top) I find to be a bit lack-luster. She doesn't ascend to the heights of this role like Simionato did, may she rest in peace, but in all honesty, her amazing rendition "O don fatale" will rouse the excitement of any listener.

Ruggero Raimondi is a very high quality Filippo. The fact that he is Italian certainly gives him the benefit on this disc of excellent word colouring and phrasing. His opening aria of Act IV truly sparkles with the diction, however his voice lacks the fearsome presence of his notable predecessors of the role, Boris Christoff & Nicolai Ghiaurov. The grand Inquisitor also leaves me wanting a bit more. His voice remains a bit shaky to my ear which immediately strips him of his immense power, however, this being one of my all-time favourite roles in the operatic repertory, I recognize that I am a bit picky. With that said, the duet scene between the two is extremely energized and communicates at a very personal level, possibly just due to the native Italian singers.

One thing that cannot be ignored about this set is the 70s trio of Domingo, Caballé and Milnes. They seemed to headline every Italian opera recording of the time, and while one may wish for more diversity, how I wish our world still had as many singers today of this caliber.

Caballé is in excellent voice on this reading. From the phenominal Carlos-Elisabetta duet in Act I to the magnificent "Tu che le vanita" in Act V. Like other heavy roles she sang, she sometimes lacks the innate power in her voice that is required, but she makes up for it with her flawless, sparkling soft notes.

Domingo is in top form here. From beginning to end he maintains a clear and easy beauty of tone and the power needed to express the necessary intensity... and he does it all without ever sounding like a baritone. Bravo, Plácido. In one of Domingo's autobiographies, he said that Don Carlo would have always been his favourite role to sing, except it only had one aria. This is was the only thing that kept it from being his favourite role, and we can hear his connection to Carlo in the intense personal touches he scatters throughout the score.

Milnes may not be the Posa that Cappuccilli is, but where he lacks, he makes up for it with energy and individuality. He makes this role his own. He brings out the relationships in the story like very few have been able to do. This may be due to his offstage relationship with his other two cohorts, but whatever the reason, it yields a great result.

The star of the recording has to be Giulini. This masterpiece had been in the works since he conducted the opera at Covent Garden in 1958 to tremendous success (bootlegs of this performance can be found). Since then, his tempi seem to have slowed down a bit, but for recording purposes, I think it works well. It brings out the pomp and grandeur of Schiller's "magnificent drama." His hand brings the music to life with a warmth that can speak to any listener in this, one of Verdi's most human operas.

Other recordings of this work to look into are the 1977 live La Scala recording conducted by Abbado with Jose Carreras, Mirella Freni, Piero Cappuccilli, Nicolai Ghiaurov and Elena Obraztsova or the V act French Abbado recording with Domingo, Nucci, Ricciarelli, Terrani, Raimondi and Ghiaurov… but if you were to have only one recording of Verdi's biggest and most complicated work, I recommend this recording first.

-Christopher Michael Kelley

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- February 2011: JENŮFA by JANÁČEK

Leoš Janáček premiered his third opera, Jenůfa, Její pastorkyňa (Jenůfa, Her stepdaughter), at the Brno Theater in Brno in what is now the Czech Republic on 21 January 1904. This was Janáček’s first opera that got him any success and the first opera where we really hear his operatic voice starting to come out. The libretto for Jenůfa, also written by Janáček, was based on the play Její pastorkyňa by Gabriela Preissová, the same playwright from whom he got the story for his previous opera, Počátek Románu or The Beginning of a Romance in 1894. He is thought to have written Jenůfa between 1896 and 1902. Janáček came to opera later in life, he was thirty-three at the premier of his first opera, he was fifty by the time Jenůfa opened and his greatest operas were written after the age of sixty-five. Jenůfa holds an interesting place in Janáček’s memory as he recounts twenty years later in his autobiography: “I would bind Jenůfa with the black ribbon of the long illness, the pain, and the sighing of my daughter Olga and my little boy Vladímír.” His little boy in which he speaks of died at an early age a few years before he started writing on Jenůfa, and his daughter, Olga, became ill in 1902 and died just before the completion of Jenůfa, a few months before her twenty-first birthday. Fortunately he did get to play most of the opera to her on her deathbed. The opera is dedicated to her memory.

He presented the opera first to the Prague National Theatre in March 1903, but was rejected. Many believe this is due to bad blood towards him by Karel Kovařovic, the opera head. But even without Prague, the opera premiered in Moravia in Brno the next year and conducted by Janáček’s pupil, Cyril Metoděj Hrazdira. It went of without a hitch and achieved some popular success but still was not performed anywhere for twelve years after that. Finally in 1915, Kovařovic, while under much pressure from Janáček’s friends, consented to put on the work in Prague, but only after his own personal revisions (some major cuts and he reorchestrated a good portion of the score), Janáček agreed to the terms, as he was now sixty-one and had waited long enough. The work was given finally in Prague on 26 May 1916. Soon after the work was translated into German and performed in Berlin in 1918 under the baton of Erich Kleiber. This is what solidified Jenůfa’s reputation in Germany and the rest of the world and led to fifty more performances of Jenůfa before Janáček’s death in 1928.

Unfortunately, it was Kovařovic’s revision of the text that remained the status quo in performances around the world until 1982 when Sir Charles Mackerras reconstructed and recorded Janáček’s original Brno version for Decca, which also contains the original Overture, entitled Žárlivost, or Jealousy, which the composer never heard open his opera during his lifetime.

The original title, Jenůfa, Její pastorkyňa, pastorkyňa literally just means ‘not own daughter’. This is referring to Jenůfa being both foster-daughter and stepdaughter to the Kostelnička.

It is important to note that one should not emphasize too much the violent acts in this story in order to relate it to the Verismo trend at the time of this opera’s premier. The goal of this work, it seems, is less about showing the ‘real’ troubles of the working people, and more to show a kind of spiritual growth and development. Watching through the opera how Jenůfa and Laca both grow from selfish, obsessive people in scene one, to the forgiving, and understanding human beings in the final scene... in other words, from youth to adulthood. The violence is not what should be shocking here, but the hard lessons that life has dealt them. The Kostelnička most of all, which is fitting as the full title truly reflects her as the main character.

When looking for a recording of this opera, especially a FIRST recording, there is really only one to turn to. The first recording of the work as originally intended by its composer. This is the recording mentioned above from Decca in 1982 by Sir Charles Mackerras. The cast is as follows:

Jenůfa - Elisabeth Söderström

Kostelnička - Eva Radnová

Laca - Wieslaw Ochman

Števa - Petr Dvorskü

Karolka - Lucia Popp

Stařenka - Marie Mrazov

Stárek - Václav Zitek

Wiener Staatsoper Chor & Orchester

Elisabeth Söderström is a very believable and empathetic Jenůfa. You feel her pain with her all the way. Her prayer is pure and contrite and her forgiveness of the Kostelnička is full of tenderness and epiphany.

The two tenors are perfectly cast in their contrasting roles and Laca really does win the audience over in the end despite his audacious actions of the first act.

Eva Radnová is most obviously a singing actress of high regard. She sings this complex role with a terrifying intensity yet retains her very human core throughout the set. Her monologue has impeccable commitment and her outburst that ends act II would send shivers down the spine of any music and/or drama lover.

The reason to get this disc though is for the recently passed genius, Sir Charles Mackerras (November 1925 - June 2010). As a young man, after winning a British Council Scholarship, he was able to study conducting with Václav Talich at the Prague Academy of Music. While there he became quick friends with Jiří Tancibudek, principal Oboe of the Czech Philharmonic, who introduced him to the works of Janáček. This started a life long love affair and Mackerras became one of the world's leading authorities on Czech music, most specifically, the music of Leoš Janáček. He single handedly brought him back onto the map. Any singer today who has sung Czech rep can testify to how much Sir Charles Mackerras helped them get through it. On this reading we see Mackerras at his best. He has a deeper understand of the literature than most of today's conductors. The 20th Century dissonances are brought out in a way that pulls at the listener and, like Puccini, almost manipulates them to feel what the characters are feeling, and the lush, beautiful moments of pure tonality resolve the Angst in a way that could make the most hard hearted among us feel hope for a brighter future. The last 10 minutes on this disc shine and affect the listener as much as any moment of Verdi or Puccini.

Because of this recording, and primarily Sir Charles Mackerras, I have found a new love for this entirely underrated Czech composer.

If you want something different to listen to, if you need a short hiatus from La Traviata, La Bohème, and Le Nozze di Figaro (God forbid), then this is a disc I recommend.

-Christopher Michael Kelley

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- January 2011: OTELLO by VERDI

Giuseppe Verdi and Arrigo Boito's Dramma lirico in four acts after Shakespeare's Othello premiered in the Teatro alla Scala, 5 February 1887, and it is truly one of the great wonders in the world of opera.

Between 1839 and 1871 (32 years), Verdi produced 26 operas. After Aida in 1871, Verdi went 16 years without one operatic premiere. He wanted Aida to be his last opera. It was a grand swan song to go out on. Many considered him after his retirement to be a bit old-fashioned. Verdi himself was not too keen on the direction that Italian music was headed, and he looked elsewhere during the 1870s for new ideas and aesthetic attitudes. This may well have contributed to his reluctance to write any new works after the Requiem of 1874. But after some minor coaxing and cajoling by those close to him rumors started to fly about a new work. He had always wanted to set Shakespeare's King Lear, but after much rumor and discussion he eventually agreed to collaborate with Boito on Otello.

What they ended up with was a work entirely unlike anything that had ever come out of Italy, and what is really one of the most perfect operas that still has ever been written. The fourth act of Otello being arguably the most perfect act of any opera ever written.

Its popularity still has not surpassed his three middle period masterpieces, Rigoletto, Il Trovatore and La Traviata, but this is hardly surprising considering the tremendous demands that are put on the orchestra and the soloists in the score. Seeing a truly GREAT production of this opera is a very rare thing indeed, as the role of Otello is quite possibly the most demanding tenor role in the whole of the repertoire.

There are some truly fantastic recordings of this magnificent work and selections available on disc with some of the greatest Otello's to have portrayed the role: Francesco Tamagno (originator), Leo Slezac, Jon Vickers, Enrico Caruso, Mario del Monaco, Placido Domingo and others.

I will NOT be reviewing what I would consider THE BEST recording of this opera, but one that I think is very special indeed and an entirely moving and interesting performance.

December 1948 live telecast recording from The Met conducted by Fritz Busch:

Otello - Ramón Vinay

Iago - Leonard Warren

Desdemona - Licia Albanese

Emilia - Martha Lipton

Cassio - John Garris

Roderigo - Thomas Hayward

with the orchestra and chorus of the Metropolitan Opera house.

Iago is without a doubt the real mover and shaker of this story. Warren's beast of a voice, that was said to "fill the house like black smoke" is heard hear in rare form. He may not have been the world's all time greatest Iago, he is probably no Victor Maurel, Antonio Scotti or Lawrence Tibbett dramatically, but he follows each and every musical nuance indicated in Verdi's cherished score to the "T". Half of the drama is taken care of for him by Verdi and Boito's brilliance. While others give more depth and subtlety to this incredibly complex character, he does an admirable job and makes up for it with his thick, miracle of a voice. It is hard for me to be TOO negative on his performance as I am a true admirer of his voice and style, but dramatically the role is just slightly beyond his capabilities and lacks that final level of commitment and honesty in this Shakespearean character.

Licia Albanese, on the other hand, while she may not have had the most beautiful instrument, was the leading singing actress of the Metropolitan Opera between 1940 and 1966 when she ran into some troubles with the new management. Her personal connection to the roles she sang has never been matched except by maybe Maria Callas. Each role she decided to take on truly became a part of her and this shows in roles like Violetta in La Traviata, Cio-Cio San in Madama Butterfly (which she sang over 300 times), Mimi in La Bohème and most certainly here. It is made evident in her resplendant scenes with Otello in the first act. They live out on stage a passionate and (as Verdi intended it) very deeply human love affair, so human that we understand how these powerful emotions can cave in at the slightest quaver. While this libretto cuts most of the depth out of her character by eliminating the first part of the play and her entire backstory, she maintains a character of human complexity and unseen profundity that is entirely heard here in her emotional vocal colouring.

The real star of this disc though has to be the one and only Ramón Vinay. He debuted in 1938 as a baritone and then again debuted in 1943 as a tenor. In 1962 he returned back down to baritone and retired from the stage in 1969 at the age of 68. During his career he made the role of Otello his own (as all the great Otellos have done). On this recording he is in his vocal prime, a year after his most renowned performance of the role under Toscanini in 1947. He is said to have been the only singer to ever have performed both Otello and Iago in this opera. He opens strong with the 'Esultate!', probably the single hardest entry aria for any voice type in the repertoire (hardly a cavatina), and glides through the love duet with ease and caress. His second act with Iago is among the best on record. His gradual breakdown into insane jealousy brings the whole thing off the stage and it comes to life before your very eyes (or ears as the case may be). None of his acting is a pictoral presentation of the character but a living, breathing representation of a human being. As his mind slowly breaks down, so do the vocal colours he uses to communicate. On this recording one can hear him slowly disintegrate until his death in the (phenomenal) last scene. While his act two duet ("Si, pel ciel") with Warren may not be quite up to par with the unmatched, sheer viral energy of the Caruso/Ruffo recording, it's sufficiently effective as a catapult into the downward spiral of act three. His dark and robust tenor is exactly what I look for in an Otello, he may be near unsurpassed as Otello along with the trumpet-like creator of the role, Francesco Tamagno.

Fritz Busch, a very German conductor, leads the Met orchestra through what is really an all-together very Italiante reading of Verdi's Dramma lirico. He succeeds at keeping the dramatic intensity and energy throughout and provides an excellent groundwork for Albanese and Vinay to really make this work come to life. While I tend to like conductors more who lead the singers through their vision of the work at hand, his result is a very effective reading of this remarkable score.

The recording may not be as good all around as some others- Serafin's powerful set with Vickers, Rysanek and Gobbi comes to mind- but it is still an interesting set and the first ever telecast of the opera. While the performance on this disc as a whole doesn't tie up in a nice, tight package, the sheer energy and emotional connection documented in the last scene is worth every penny, and definitely worth a listen.

-Christopher Michael Kelley