Reviews of Callas Myto Recordings and if Theyre Good

"I don't know what happens to me on phase. Something else seems to take over."

All the daring and imagination of La Divina'south live work, particularly in the early years, is revealed in Warner Classics' Maria Callas: The Live Recordings.

In commemoration of the 40th ceremony of the decease of Maria Callas, Warner Classics has released this set of 20 consummate live opera recordings at reasonable pricing, with spectacular sound restoration by Studio Art et Son and Studio Circé. An splendid booklet places each operation into the context of her career, focusing on a particular repertoire or flavour.

In add-on to some choice reprints of essays by John B. Steane, newly deputed pieces by Michel Roubinet also reveal much, particularly about the soprano's early on piece of work in Greece. You lot will need French or Italian to read a few of them.

Each opera is as well available separately (although I recommend getting the whole set, equally it doesn't take up much space and the price is nice, under $4.00 an opera), and then I'll comment on each work in chronological society, attempting to note the pros and cons of replacing a fix you lot already own, or venturing into new territory. I await lively word of the many points I accept omitted or overlooked!

A few of the offerings still suffer from poor audio quality in the original material, even though in many cases the producers went back to original analog recordings. But most of the set offers bright audio, absent of surface noise, hiss, pitch irregularities and balance problems, plus an entirely new sense of theatrical space. Many of united states, of course, learned these performances from LPs and cassettes, and mine have now constitute their mode to the adjourn.

The 1949 Nabucco from Naples leads off the collection, representing non simply Callas' earliest known live recording of a consummate opera, but as well her only complete recording of Abigaille, a role seemingly fabricated for her combination of power and agility. Although there are many available recordings, live and studio, of the heroine'southward aria "Anch'io dischuiso," this set is a must-have for the thrill of the soprano'southward bold vocal characterization and huge, spacious sound, especially in the elevation notes.

We already hear the variety of attack and some of the lightening and sweetening, along with the reduction of vibrato, that characterizes her bel canto singing. Abigaille's cadenzas, particularly in the aria and in the human action iii confrontation duet "Donna, chi sei?", are rapid and clean, driving upward and downward the scale in one thrilling gesture.

Gino Bechi's work in the title office is uneven, but Callas seems to perk him up in their Act Three duet, and her terminal high E-flat encourages him to counter with a decent A-flat. A nigh riot of enthusiasm propels the encore of the chorus's "Va, pensiero." The soprano's feature mournful sound is used in the final scene, along with effective sobs cutting off her plea, "Not maledire a me!". This is an essential historical document.

The 1950 Italian-language Parsifal is presented in its entirety (for a long fourth dimension but Act 2 was available), and Kundry is Callas's only recorded Wagner role. She hands handles the urgent, jagged vocal writing in Deed One, and uses a tortured, dark and melancholy sound throughout. She breaks into the cheerful gathering of flower maidens with an arresting and commanding address to the hero, and brings warm, mysterious, and alluring sound to their duet.

She makes aplenty employ of diminuendos, always staying on the breath, with very even vocalism, moving hands from tender to furious to manipulative. Of note is quick-vibratoed Boris Christoff every bit Gurnemanz and Rolando Panerai as Amfortas. To the presence of Lina Pagliughi as a blossom maiden, John Ardoin quipped that ii famous Lucias had probably never appeared together in Parsifal.
The 1951 Vespri siciliani from Florence, nether Erich Kleiber's management, is deservedly well-known, and the restored sound is clean and relatively clear. Callas brings indicate to Elena'due south first act aria "Deh! tu calma," particularly the insistent repetitions of "Il vostro fato è in vostro mano" (Your fate is in your hands) where the directness and specificity of her challenges—you tin can nigh run into her eyes burning into each person in turn–are chillingly constructive.

The difficult quartet that follows ("D'ira fremo") represents Callas's innate musicality—when the writing turns tricky, she becomes laser-like in pitch and focus. In the Act 2 Elena/Arrigo scene, Callas'south limpid and delicate singing, articulate and on point in those ascension lines, draws even the unsubtle Giórgios Kokoliós-Bardi into her artful. Similarly in the Act Four duet "Pensando a me," the tenor becomes more focused in response to her tender sound.

The popular arias–Christoff's "O tu Palermo" and Callas's jaunty Bolero–are high points, of course, just it's Callas steady work throughout, illuminating the score even as she is expressing it, that reveals a truly historical creative moment.

Aida represents the render of the high East flat. This is the 2nd twelvemonth of the legendary Mexico City performances in which Callas capped the Act Ii finale with an Eastward-flat in alt. In 1950 the feat was revenge for particularly piggish singing by tenor Kurt Baum, and the soprano had given a heads upwardly to the rest of the cast.

A twelvemonth later, Mario del Monaco and Oralia Domínguez were on fire, the tenor singing loud and louder, taking actress breaths in "Celeste Aida" to roar out spectacular high notes, the mezzo bringing terrifying, granite-like sound to every phrase. Callas bides her fourth dimension through the scream fest of Deed Ane, until "Ritorna vincitor," where she invests every phrase with idea and meaning, feeling her style through each dramatic moment. The show may be a circus, but her artistry will win.

Dominguez' massive audio dominates the Amneris/Aida confrontation scene in Act Ii, until Callas bursts forth with "Vive! O grazie, o Numi," her high A a cry of joy and disobedience. Hither she takes control of the scene, and indeed of the entire functioning. The high Eastward-flat at the terminate of the act is her bays. I must admit a preference for Giulietta Simionato every bit Amneris, whose sweet, more than womanly sound (forth with a major memory lapse in the judgment scene) is heard on the 1950 Mexico City Aida. The drawbacks of that performance, of course, are Baum'south Radames and conductor Guido Picco.

Warner Classics offers these sound clips to dissimilarity the 1999 EMI remastering vs. the new mastering of this 2017 set:

Armida from the 1952 Maggio Musicale (with Tullio Serafin) represents the soprano's only complete Rossini opera seria part, and her spectacular, fashionable singing overcomes the poor sound quality of some of the tracks. In top form, she adds high annotation after loftier note, including plenty of blazing high Ds. But more telling is her masterful shaping of the fioritura, both the rhythmically propelled patterns of 16th notes too every bit the rhapsodic, cascading cadenzas.

Tenors Francesco Albanese, Mario Filippeschi and Alessandro Ziliani omit much of their coloratura writing, and when Callas repeats someone else'south line she invariably shows them how to sing it more accurately and more expressively. While colleagues often sing around the beat, Callas is always spot on.

In the famous aria "D'amore al dolce impero," grace, line, and style propel the difficult variations, the quick triplets rippling easily and evenly throughout more than ii octaves without ever sounding driven. The final scene combines furious recitative, militant arioso, plaintive aria, and a last high E-flat as the sorceress exits in a fiery chariot.

The 1952 Rigoletto from United mexican states City (with nicely cleaned-up sound and some restored pitch inconsistencies) represents Callas's vocal acting at its about supreme, and a growing concentration on investing bel canto roles with imagination and drama. Piero Campolonghi's jester is not particularly interesting, but Giuseppe di Stefano brings his characteristic vocal charm and technical randomness to a committed portrayal of the Duke.

"Parmi veder le lagrime" is his all-time contribution, while "La donna è mobile" ends an entire one-half footstep flat (every bit does the encored 2nd poetry). Conductor Umberto Mugnai waits as long as possible before bringing in the orchestra, but the tuning is painful, although the rapturous public cares not.

Callas explores girlish, vulnerable sounds, and is utterly convincing as a shy, virginal victim. The duet with di Stefano is heavily cut, but both singers produce acceptable loftier D-flats at the rushed conclusion. "Caro nome" is a affair of utter beauty, with delicate filigree and a controlled dreaminess that once again reveals the soprano's rhythmic genius in understanding the larger metrical units that however allow rubato and freedom.

When Gilda enters, afterward "Corteggiani, vil razza," the devastating heaviness of Callas' tone is clearly that of a molested innocent. She mumbles the opening line of "Tutte le feste," the prompter, having shouted most every give-and-take of Act One, now mysteriously gone missing.

The well-known 1952 Norma from Covent Garden reappears with make clean sound and represents an early on Callas recording in which the listener doesn't need to skip the parts she'southward not in. Mirto Picchi's quick-vibratoed Pollione and Ebe Stignani's luscious sound (although nearly every vowel mutates to "ah") contribute powerfully, though their singing is boxy and foursquare compared to the soprano'south.

Callas seems nervous in the opening recitative, using the high A-flat on "io mieto" to test out her breath, spin, caput voice, and control for "Casta diva." While conductor Vittorio Gui seems to hear the slice in 12, Callas sings in a broad 4, e'er magically suspending the long notes that begin the start two phrases. The cabaletta "A bello a me" is sung confidently, with pure and almost floaty tone.

Favorite moments are Callas's handling of "trema pei figli tuoi" in soft and menacing tones rather than a shout, and the high D concluding the trio, which she holds onto even afterwards the orchestra has resolved the chord. The duets with Stignani are white-hot, although in one case once again Callas shows a colleague (in "Mira, o Norma") how a verse could have been sung more musically.

Callas opened the 1952 season at La Scala with five performances of Macbeth, her kickoff and last consummate portrayal of Verdi'southward aggressive and tormented Lady. With the exception of some very poor sound in the a cappella section of the Act One finale ("Schiudi, inferno") and a bit of Banquo's assassination, the restoration is superb.

Even if you know the arias from other alive and studio recordings, this reissue—the soprano'due south only complete recording of the opera—is a must-accept for the chance to hear the "in-between" moments of dramatic imagination in Lady's interactions with Macbeth, although Enzo Mascherini is imprecise and a bit weepy in the title office.

Victor de Sabata leads a full-bodied, thrillingly paced functioning, showing the La Scala orchestra (but not so much the chorus) to swell consequence. Callas's weirdly sing-song reading of the alphabetic character has been much commented upon, but the residual of the opening scene is hair-raising. De Sabata holds dorsum the tempo of "Vieni! t'affretta!" making the soprano piece of work hard, only the issue—deliberate and purposeful—is just right.

She avoids chilling melodrama at the realization that the king has placed himself directly in the easily of the murderous couple ("Duncano sarà qui? Qui la notte?") only does manage a creepy quietness to begin the incantatory cabaletta "Or tutti sorgete," growing to a massive high B. The duet "Fatal mia donna" shows once more Callas'southward impeccable musicianship, as she uses the quick staccatos and the turn to the major central both to mock and to reassure her changing husband.

The second deed's "La luce langue" is performed as a meditation in one long crescendo, culminating in another blazing high B. For the drinking song, de Sabata again chooses a deliberate stride. All the more puzzling, and then, is his rushed and ineffective handling of the sleepwalking scene. Callas has no time for her special mournful colorings or her heart-breaking way of suspending the audio in this rush to the finish, but she manages to bladder the high D-flat perfectly (having tried out the note in full vocalization at the end of Act One). Italo Tajo's Banco is worth noting, but the Macduff and Malcolm are run-of-the-factory.

Over again, from Warner Classics, contrasting the 1997 EMI remastering vs. the new mastering of this 2017 set up:

Callas sang Cherubini'due south Medea in ten different runs between 1953 and 1962, the recording here representing the December 1953 performances from La Scala, when conductor Leonard Bernstein had learned the work in a matter of days. The sound is exemplary, although what sounds like crickets in Neris'southward Act Ii aria is just squeaking of electronics.

I must confess to a dislike of the piece (possibly Lachner'southward anachronistic recitatives, or Cherubini'south "Gluck but not Gluck" style), and have always been troubled by Callas's vocal extremes in this piece of work—taking the chest voice very high, and an overall harsh recklessness. Of note is Fedora Barbieri's massively sung Neris, and the way both Bernstein and Callas invest the classical style with blood and guts music-making.

I am more drawn to Alceste (the real Gluck), and to the dignity and classicism of Callas'southward portrayal of the cocky-sacrificing heroine, a role she sang but 4 times, in Apr of 1954. Her partnership with conductor Carlo Maria Giulini makes up for poor audio quality, a hybrid version of the score, and an over-eager prompter. From her archway, Callas'south singing is noble, womanly, and warm, confidently soaring over the plucked strings of the kickoff aria, "O Dei, del mio fato," and then gentle and serious for the invocation, "O Apollo immortal."

Throughout the performance, her singing is beautifully expressive, with sculpted lines and long breath. "Divinità infernal" glows with intensity and decision. The second human action "A' vostri lai" begins sweetly, then grows to climax at the pitiable line "Del mio destin più rio destin non è." In Act Three Alceste and her hubby Admeto each volunteer to dice for the other and, while Renato Gavarini yells his function, usher Giulini proves a perfect partner to Callas, in the imploring "O funesta Dea implacabile" and the tender "Vivi, e guarda," with her affecting utilize of portamento.

In the second installment of this review, we will rejoin Callas at the get-go of the pivotal 1954-1955 season.

Maria Callas: The Live Recordings (42CD/3BD)
is on auction at Amazon.com for $63.59

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Source: https://parterre.com/2017/09/13/divinity-restored/

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