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The vivid and dramatic
bass Ivan Petrov will be well known
to many from his complete LP traversals
of a chunk of Russian and Franco-Italian
repertoire. As well as the expected
fare of Onegin, Prince Igor,
Aleko, Aida and Roméo
et Juliette – there were many more
– he may also be remembered via his
advocacy of Shaporin’s uneven but eventful
The Decembrists. His debut was
in 1943 and his first recordings followed
soon after. A generation younger than
Reizen and Alexander Pirogov he nevertheless
had to bide his time, finding international
success in the 1950s with tours to Scandinavia,
Japan, America and Germany during which
he visited most western capitals. He
retired from the operatic stage at the
young age of fifty.
Given that a number
of his operatic roles have been released
recently – Preiser themselves have released
The Decembrists and Guild is
delving into his discography – this
is a more than useful adjunct to his
more extended roles. Note for instance
that La Gioconda seems to derive from
the highlights (not complete) set of
the 1950s but that Prince Igor isn’t
the 1969 Ermler-led complete recording
that admirers will know. This is an
excerpt with Boris Khaikin conducting
and presumably comes from at least a
decade or a decade and a half earlier.
Questions of attribution
and discography are nevertheless problematic
because none of the sides are dated
and no release numbers are attached
to them. If we sift the ground though
we find his graphic power intact in
Ruslan and Ludmilla (power yes but listen
to its magical withdrawal as the aria
develops). Petrov had unmistakeable
presence and a forthright, focused core;
he’s one of those singers whose personality
survives the limitations of recording;
indeed seems to thrive on, or is indifferent
to them. His Nabucco is regal and commanding,
Rusalka nicely characterised, knowing,
absorbent of the folk elements. He does
his best in Faust but this is a shaggy
old recording, recorded in an aircraft
hanger of an acoustic – Khaikin conducting
can do nothing to mitigate it but he
could have whipped the band into line.
Petrov catches, ideally,
the lilt of the Ponchielli – rhythm
is splendid, the voice is in fresh estate.
If you tire of Khaikin’s conducting
you can always try Golovanov – those
swoony strings and that evocatively
big boned accompaniment in Aleko will
drive aesthetes mad. Me, I loved it.
It’s effulgent, romantic, imprecise,
draining and irresistible. We end with
lighter fare and the Serov song. It
shows how adroitly Petrov could modulate
his big personality and how sensitively
he could shape. He still has important
things to say and these good transfers
of sometimes problematic originals (good
but not excellent) will prove exciting
listening.
Jonathan Woolf