This Traviata
is a fascinating, infuriating, often
touching and sometimes illuminating
experience, valuable for providing yet
another piece of the jigsaw as we try
to figure out who and what Toscanini
really was. Well, here we can certainly
hear him sing, shout and, er, shout
even louder. Oh, and croak, too (he
sings Annina’s ‘Per voi’ in Act 2 for
some reason (CD1 track 8). To be fair,
he is silent for most of the time (and
he had complete justification for his
noises - this was, after all, a dress
rehearsal). But anyone contemplating
this as an alternative Traviata
(or even, perish the thought, as their
only Traviata) should be warned
that it is not a performance or recording
per se. Toscanini’s cries of ‘crescendo
coro’ at the end of Act 2 really do
wear once one has heard them once.
Toscanini’s fidelity
to the score is ever in evidence, as
is his care for detail. The Prelude
is echt Toscanini - he is not
as interior as some, yet still he manages
to project a feeling of ‘rightness’
- such is the force of his own conviction.
Of course, there is the recording to
consider in all this, not so much a
problem in the Prelude, but distinctly
shrill in busy scenes - and there is
none busier than the opening party scene.
Toscanini and his forces positively
fizz here, though.
Licia Albanese’s Violetta
is appropriately young-sounding, yet
still capable of great emotion, Technically,
she impresses at ‘Ah, forsè lui’,
separating the syllables affectingly.
Yet she can sob rather melodramatically
(try towards the end of Act 1), a trait
neither convincing nor endearing. Until
the final act, Albanese seems far happier
in the more sparkly, florid passage-work
that Verdi allots her. Her strength
seems to lie in her interaction with
other characters, not only with Alfredo
(see below), but also with Giorgio Germont
(imposing bass Robert Merrill) in Act
2. Albanese and Merrill clearly interact
deeply on the emotional plane, and Toscanini
injects real tension into the air here
(not to mention the occasional shout
of ‘crescendo’). At ‘Non sapete’, Albanese
is nearly hysterical, and Toscanini’s
accompaniment reflects this in its agitation.
She climaxes towards the end of the
opera, though, in those touching scenes,
and fragments the line perfectly as
life escapes her. Her death comes as
the only possible end to this remarkable
opera, whose trajectory moves from carefree
party to one of the most moving scenes
on all opera.
Jan Peerce is Alfredo.
He does have presence, there is no denying
that. Try his lusty but not overdone
‘Libiamo’ (CD1 track 3, complete with
Toscanini’s duetting along!) and then
compare and contrast with the duet with
Violetta. Note here also how well his
voice and Albanese’s match so well (CD
1 track 4, especially their little cadenza,
4’40-5’01). Peerce is at the height
of his powers at ‘Di Provenza il mar’
(CD 1, track 10), where focus and diction
work well together. (A little sob at
the end might detract, as might Toscanini’s
groaning along.)
Robert Merrill is an
imposing Germont père; Maxine
Stellman takes the part of Flora, and
very appealingly, too - her voice is
nice and rounded, and acts in good contrast
to Violetta’s. Unfortunately Arthur
Newman’s Doctor is throaty (as if the
sound was made there and couldn’t quite
get out). John Garris as Gastone is
on the thin side, tonally, and uses
little vibrato.
The chorus (unnamed)
is excellent, tripping along nicely
as Zingare. Throughout one is left admiring
Toscanini’s expert pacing (there is
no doubt he hears each part in relation
to the whole).
The claim on the front
of Music & Arts box is a bold one.
‘A complete performance, unequalled
in its dramatic impact ..’. Sales talk,
certainly. Yet Toscanini’s Traviata
retains its fascination, and its power.
Proof-reading is again
problematic from this source, especially
serious in such obvious a place as the
back of the product - Giorgio Germont
is ‘is father’ ((H)Alfredo’s?!); Robert
Merrill is Robert ‘merrill’; Alfredo
is ‘Afredo’.
Worth hearing, if only
to hear the creative process in action.
Colin Clarke
Licia Albanese (soprano) Violetta Valéry;
Jan Peerce (tenor) Alfredo Germont; Robert Merrill
(baritone) Germont; Maxine Stellman (mezzo) Flora
Bervoix; Johanne Morland (soprano) Annina; John
Garris (baritone) Gastone; George Cehanovsky (baritone)
Duopol; Paul Dennis (bass) Marquis d’Obigny; Arthur
Newman (bass) Doctor Grenvil; chorus; NBC Symphony
Orchestra/Arturo Toscanini. 