RECORDING OF THE MONTH- March 2012: TOSCA by PUCCINI

There is not a doubt in my mind that one of my all-time favourite operas has to be Tosca by Giacomo Puccini. One thing people should know about me is that I am a very nostalgic person, and I think my ideal time period to live in would be at the turn of the 20th century. La Belle Époque. It was a time of change, a time of excitement. People all over the world were in such energized anticipation of progress. A feeling that cannot even remotely be understood today when we have everything and our lives SHOULD be simpler than ever before.

This opera embodies the time period it was written in perfectly. Tosca welcomed in the 20th century with its premiere on 14 January 1900. While it has the charm and elegance of more traditional Italian operas, the heavy brass, odd dissonances for theatrical purposes, and declamatory vocal writing are hinting at what is to come in the world of opera. It is a fantastic piece of theatre that embodies everything we love about opera.

If I were asked to name the very best recording of Tosca, I would (after quite a bit of internal debate) probably say the 1953 EMI La Scala set conducted brilliantly by de Sabata with Maria Callas, (a young) Giuseppe di Stefano, and a menacing Tito Gobbi. After all these years, this essentially perfect reading is still unrivaled. De Sabata leads these sacred monsters through the score with intellect, discernment and swiftness. Callas's multi-layered tigress of a Tosca gives unequalled insight to the character. Di Stefano's youthful vigor and still relatively fresh voice touch the audience at a very human level and Gobbi's audible sneer throughout this entirely evil role is immortal.

However… I would rather discuss a different Tosca. This is about a Saturday Matinee Live Broadcast from the Met on 7 April 1962. The cast is as follows:

Floria Tosca - Leontyne Price

Mario Cavaradossi - Franco Corelli

Baron Scarpia - Cornell MacNeil

Sacristan - Ezio Flagello

Angelotti - Norman Scott

Conducted by the Met's Kapellmeister, Kurt Adler.

Even though he is primarily the Chorus Master, he conducts this performance very well with a great understanding of the work. He leads the orchestra clearly and maintains firm order, which is not an easy task with singers like Corelli on stage in front of him. Somehow he keeps in control of the performance while still allowing the freedom and liberties these singers expect. Don't misunderstand though, this is in no way a conductor's performance. This is an old-fashioned singer's afternoon… and with singers like this, that is exactly as it should be.

Franco Corelli is a formidable presence here, after debuting at the Met only the previous season (the same as Price). It is often said that this is NOT the best performance of the still young Corelli, and that is true. His top on this disc doesn't seem quite as easy as it does on other live recordings, and that is saying something. But even with a hint of pushing, he handles this virile role with masculinity and ardor. His opening aria, "Recondita armonia", which acts as a warm up for most tenors in this role, rings true with a voice that appears to be fresh and ready to go, and it should be mentioned that the last phrase is balanced perfectly by Adler with Franco and the French horns. His act one high B on "or vita mi costassi" is among the most alive and thrilling one can hear. You can see that he is still relatively up and coming on this disc. His famous diminuendo in "E lucevan"(which he didn't do in the very beginning of his career) is not quite as balanced as it is sometimes. But overall he epitomizes this role and his chiaro scuro is rivaled ONLY by the likes of del Monaco.

Cornell MacNeil is truly one of the most unsung heroes of the operatic stage of all time. MacNeil had a top that was rarely matched. Cornell MacNeil in his prime was some of the best Verdi Baritone singing the world has ever heard. His Scarpia may not have the intrinsic "snarl" that Gobbi's does, but instead of the slimy, lustful, letch, he plays a more noble, obsessive police chief. Even if one wished for more colours and vocal acting, the role is impeccably sung. You may have other preferences, but you would be hard-pressed to find somebody to sing the role any better. He is an equal match to his two partners in this production.

Even the small roles are filled with singers who are MORE than adequate. Ezio Flagello sings the sacristan with vocal splendor, almost upstaging MacNeil in their scene together. Angelotti is filled with another Met mainstay, the aging, yet more than competent, Norman Scott.

Even with this impressive and skilled roster, it should not be a surprise that the real star here is Leontyne Price. The young price glides through this passionate role with elegance, femininity, and desperation. Her voice seems healthy and lyric. Moments of grandeur and depth lead to bars of fury and fervor that transform to showcase her resplendent high extension like the scene that leads up to "O dolci mani" in act three. It is apparent why she became so associated with "Vissi d'arte" in her time, she sings it with introspection and contemplation that bubbles up like a volcano waiting to erupt and builds to the moment she decides to take matters into her own hands. She may have a slightly less complex character than Callas, but the passion that exudes from every note she sings results in a listening experience that is so thrilling, it could make even the coldest of heart get sucked into this dramatic and theatrical plot line. In her scenes with Corelli, this excitement is doubled.

It makes one think about that fact that this was just another Saturday afternoon at the old Metropolitan Opera. They don't make singers like that anymore. I defy anyone to find me a production from the Met of the last 20 years with it's over trained, under appreciated, and financially burdened singers that comes anywhere near the life-changing thrill of this truly great singing. This is a precious documentation of what opera used to be like. One can only hope we find our way back there.

If you only have one recording of Tosca, I would recommend the EMI disc conducted by de Sabata with Callas , di Stefano, and Gobbi, but if you want a second one that will suck you into its passion, charm and above all, wonderful singing, then find this one.

-Christopher Michael Kelley

PS. Other good options are the 1997 Levine recording with Renata Scotto, Renato Bruson, and Placido Domingo and also, the 1956 Leinsdorf set with Jussi Björling, Zinka Milanov and Leonard Warren...

RECORDING OF THE MONTH- August 2010: LA BOHÈME by PUCCINI

James Levine once referred to La Bohème as "perfect". I think it can be safely said that Bohème is among the greatest operas ever written.

The work was given its premier in Turin at the Teatro Regio, 1 February 1896: The height of Verismo. Not necessarily in the music world, but the Verismo movement had begun already in the literary world. However La Bohème is so much more than a Verismo opera. It transcended any particular movement. Puccini's desire to write an opera based on Murger's "novel" Scènes de la vie de bohème seems to have sparked as early as the winter of 1892-3; just before the premier of Manon Lescaut. Immediately conflict ensued between Giacomo Puccini and Ruggero Leoncavallo (I Pagliacci) who was in the process of writing his own opera based on the story. But since the novel was in the public domain, trying to secure exclusive rights to the story on either side was unsuccessful. Puccini welcomed this new rivalry and desired for the public to choose the winner.

Have you ever seen a production of La Bohème by Leoncavallo? Didn't think so.

The public has chosen.

I think one of the main reasons Puccini's work won such favor over Leoncavallo (who was beloved by the Italian public of the time) was because Ruggero Leoncavallo's libretto was just plain awful. The primary story line focused on that of Marcello and Musetta... doomed from the beginning. Puccini knew that.

This piece has been documented relatively well on record, but the one recording that is considered by many to be THE BEST documentation - if slightly unorthodox - is that of the 1956 recording conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham. The cast is as follows:

Rodolfo - Jussi Björling

Mimì - Victoria de los Angeles

Marcello - Robert Merrill

Musetta - Lucine Amara

Schaunard - John Reardon

Colline - Giorgio Tozzi

and the RCA Victor Orchestra

This recording is one of the true miracles of the 20th century. There was no grand plan to make the great benchmark Bohème recording, but a recording agent saw that Björling, de los Angeles and Beecham were all in New York at the same time and it was thrown together like a whirlwind, some singers recording a few bars here and there before heading to the airport.

The orchestra was not exceptional and because of the lack of prep time, the chorus even misses a couple entrances in the second act. But with that aside... this exceptional recording is very special. There is an energy, a chemistry on this disc that captures something unnamable that none of the other recordings have captured. There is just something special about this fervid interpretation. This superb cast is enough to inspire anyone.

To start with, few singers have been so predestinately right for the role of Mimì as Victoria de los Angeles. She sings it beautifully, but what gives her the corner on the market is her portrayal of the person of Mimì. I am a firm believer that when one describes the character, Mimì, the first words to come to mind should NOT be words like doomed, fatal, futile, fragile, tragic... that's describing her life and the story, NOT the person that we all know and love. She is not pathetic. She's not Violetta Valery. Words that come to mind when thinking on Mimì should include charming, delightful, enchanting and words such as these. If we can do nothing but feel sorry for her for two hours, we can't really get the impact of her death at the end. We all have to fall in love with her over the course of the first two acts and Victoria de los Angeles accomplishes that with great poise. It may be the most involving and moving Mimì ever recorded.

As for the idealistic, hopeless romantic of the poet Rodolfo... where do we start? Jussi Björling is the consummate musician. He glides through the music here like a silver seam. While I have heard "Che gelida manina" done with much more vigor than here, I have never heard it done with more eloquence and freshness. He is among the only tenors to be believable as a youth, a poet, and a lover. His love is not bellowed like so many, but confided in his friends and loved ones. In his voice, he caresses and weeps with a fine silver tone that really lets us in. And as we, the audience, listen, we weep with him. He guides us elegantly through this pained period of young love.

The rest of the cast was just as fit. Robert Merrill is a wonderful counterpart to Björling's Rodolfo. His Marcello is short tempered and cocky with hints of that bravado that nobody could do like Merrill. Lucine Amara is a light-voiced, whimsical and stylish Musetta with a French flair that is oh-so appropriate. The other two cronies are fun, boisterous and genuine. Tozzi's aria in Act IV is so moving that one almost forgets that he is singing to a coat...

Sir Thomas Beecham really should be acknowledged for this masterful set. As one of the greatest conductors of the 20th century, he pulled this out of thin air with no rehearsal period. He tends to take the whole thing at a slightly slower, more defined tempo. His set comes in at just over 107 minutes while the famous Toscanini set comes in at just under a flying 95 minutes (Toscanini's Traviata barrels through at 1 hour 42 minutes compared to the usual 2+ hours). I think that his unhurried tempi give a voluptuous and sensual feel to the set. With that said, he conveys excellent energy and fun in the slapstick scenes between the fellas in the garret. I hope that the slightly slower tempi are not disappointing to the children of our current fast paced environment. Even the MUSICIANS of our generation seem to be losing patience (Sir Malcolm Sargent had even been accused of speeding up symphonic finales in order to finish before the 9:00 news.) What truly sets Beecham's recording above the others (Karajan's, Toscanini's, Votto's, Serafin's, Chailly's, Pappano's etc) is Beecham's belief that when Puccini wrote pp, he meant it. It makes one realize how intimate this opera really is, which gives the singers more opportunity to access more vocal colours and subtleties. And while it is in many ways unlike any other recording of this opera you have ever heard, it is not only due to his ignoring many of the traditional musical customs. It also has a flare… a spark that is entirely unique. His cast here had no weak links and Beecham was obviously the interpretive ring leader. (Note in the first scene, Beecham taught Reardon a ridiculous, cut-glass English accent for the Parrot loving milord.) The point is, nothing is missing in this recording. The sound quality could be better, as it sometimes doesn't do justice to the musical climaxes (particularly in Act II), but the stereo quality can be overlooked to see the brilliant artistry of every contributor in this disc.

The other recording that is beloved by the music world is the Karajan set with Pavarotti, Freni, Harwood, Panerai. However, Karajan's reading of this is a less intimate reading and while Pavarotti sings with a golden, beautiful Italian tenor... he's boring. He leaves me wanting more. You don't feel Rodolfo's pain or conflict. Freni is a fabulous Mimì, but she was more ideal on her earlier set with Gedda and Schippers, which on the whole is not near the level as the discs mentioned above.

If you can't handle the relatively poor recording quality of the Beecham set, I would fully recommend probably my personal favorite all-rounder recording. The 1959 Serafin set with Bergonzi, Tebaldi and Bastianini. Beautifully sung Italianate performance. Much more true to the stylistic traditions of the work and has a vivid energy.

But if you want an experience that is unique, graceful and exciting, the 1956 recording with Sir Thomas Beecham is it. If you make it through with a dry eye, you have no heart.

-Christopher Michael Kelley