This famous 1947 set
makes a welcome return to the catalogues.
There was, remarkably, another Bolshoi
recording of Roméo et Juliette
in the same year with the title
roles taken by Lemeshev and Maslennikova,
rivals to the present pairing of Kozlovsky
and Shumskaya but it’s this one that
has generated the greater esteem over
the years. Guild has done their level
best with the recording, which is pretty
standard for this period in Russia.
The recording level, as they indicate
in a note by Richard Caniell, is variable
and there is some blasting at various
climactic points. Additionally the vocal
perspective swirls around and it is
sometimes the aural equivalent of being
disorientated in a snowdrift. One should
also note the acidic, resinous sound
of the strings and the untamed and characteristically
raucous brass. Unsubtle is the mot juste
and one should prepare oneself in advance
for these obvious deficiencies, accept
them and then, having absorbed them
(and in this performance they can be
absorbed), admire the wealth of vocal
talent on display here.
Kozlovsky is the star,
even then still Russia’s most famous
tenor. We can hear as early as his recitative
Eh bien! Que l’avertissement
in Act I that, for all his lyrical ease
and command, his voice has a characteristic
rather "white" tone – not
bleached but equally not obviously captivatingly
beautiful as, say, Björling’s was.
His vibrato is precisely employed and
to great dramatic effect – sample O
nuit! From Act II. His control of
dynamics, even given the relatively
primitive recording, is sovereign. He
employs a floated head voice but it’s
not fully in the French voix mixte
tradition (head voice mixed with falsetto)
though it does convey great emotive
power when he chooses to employ it.
His technique is secure and strong,
allowing him moments of ringing declamation
as in Act III’s Allons! Tu ne me
connais pas and also the dramatic
and histrionic lucidity of Act V’s À
toi, ma Juliette where he and Shumskaya
shake the grooves (literally) so impassioned
is their duet. His tone can also take
on great powers of intimacy and consolation,
encompassing all emotive states in this
work with kaleidoscopic freedom.
Shumskaya brings considerable
reserves of power and theatrical tension
to her role; hers is a strong rather
dramatic soprano, not always entirely
disciplined it’s true, but quite capable
of matching her partner as we’ve seen.
She was forty-two at the time of the
recording, five years younger than Kozlovsky
and together they make a strikingly
believable pairing, though not one,
clearly, in the French mould of interpretation.
The Mercutio is Ivan Burlak and he has
an elegant light bass, commendably flexible.
He is lyrical and phrases with line
and momentum and his top is firm (especially
in his Act I ballade). It’s true that
there are moments when an obtrusive
bleat enters the voice but this is a
less important matter than his engaging
sensibility. Sokolova has a powerful
soprano with a well-supported lower
register and considerable projective
power. She’s occasionally unsteady but
her full Olympian power can be heard
in Act III’s Depuis hier. Basses
Mikhailov and Petrov prove a strong,
if stylistically anomalous pairing.
Mikhailov was 54 and on top form, still
fully in control of vibrato and light
and shade whilst Petrov was half his
colleague’s age and had a more obviously
intense and powerful sound.
The conductor is Alexander
Orlov and he directs with tremendous
attack – the fugal section in the Prologue
sounding the alarm for his sweeping
and galvanizing (but also poetic) leadership.
The Ball scene has elegance and panache
and he takes the Act II Entr’acte at
a fine tempo. It’s certainly not faulty
balance by the conductor when the harp
is so over recorded or that the strings
sound so raw. Nor even that there is
an echo round the voices, some of which
come and go in distinctly spectral fashion.
These were the hazards of the recording
set up there. And to finish we have
a small glimpse of another esteemed
conductor, the coruscating Nikolai Golovanov
who accompanies his much older wife,
the legendary Antonina Nezhdanova and
Kozlovsky in Ange adorable. Despite
the antique sounding recording (it was
only 1938) it’s a delightful pendant.
Everything is in favour
of this well-merited retrieval of a
distinguished set. There are full and
attractive notes that comment and reflect
upon a noble and frequently fascinating
recording.
Jonathan Woolf