Let me say from the outset that
this is one of the most thrilling recordings of a Verdi opera
ever issued. Recorded almost 65 years ago it cannot, of course,
compete with more modern stereo sets on sonic grounds. However
as a musical and dramatic experience and indeed for much of
the singing it can hold its own against most other recordings.
Set down by CETRA in Turin in the midst of the war it had
limited circulation outside Italy as a 78 set. In 1951 it
was transferred to LPs, the box cover of which is reproduced
on the back of the CD booklet. As far as I am aware it did
not appear on CD until about three years ago, when Naxos released
it, to great critical acclaim. For some reason I never managed
to get hold of that set so I haven’t been able to compare
the sound quality. I don’t know if Warner Fonit have used
the original matrices or, as Naxos did, transferred the music
from finished pressings on shellac. From the evidence of listening
to this set I would think that Warner have had partly worn
shellacs at their disposal. Although for most of the time
the sound is comparatively clean and fresh, much more so,
as a matter of fact, than some much later CETRA recordings,
there are some blemishes. Overall we have to contend with
an agèd sound, quite boxy and dry but with much orchestral
detail. Unfortunately there is quite a lot of distortion,
especially on some of the solo voices, who are accorded a
whizzing, metallic edge that robs them of warmth and that
also becomes an irritant during longer stretches of listening.
It is like a semi-transparent curtain that blocks the aural
view. Worst affected are Alvaro and Don Carlos in some of
their high-voltage controversy in act 3 and 4. Also Leonora’s
high notes suffer in her great aria Pace, pace, mio dio
(CD2 track 26). In the final trio Padre Guardiano’s warm voice
loses a deal of its humanity. I tried several passages through
headphones but the problem remained so it has nothing to do
with unfortunate resonances in my listening room.
I mention the
problem this early in the review so that readers who know
they can’t accept this type of shortcomings, can stop here.
Everyone else should know that once you have started listening
it is very easy to be indulgent with the sound, and you know
from the first few chords of the overture that this is going
to be a taut drama, holding you in terrible suspense for the
next 2½ hours. The short playing time is not only due to Marinuzzi’s
high dramatic pulse but also to a lengthy cut in the third
act, where the whole of the Alvaro – Don Carlo duet, immediately
after the Soldiers’ chorus, is gone. This is a pity since
both singers are so good; on the other hand the omission has
made it possible to squeeze the whole opera into two well-filled
CDs, making it even more of a bargain.
Gino Marinuzzi,
whose only complete opera recording this was, turns out to
be a conductor in the Toscanini mould. He favours fastish
tempos but never sounds hurried, and he keeps the tension
high without over-accentuating. He knows where to underline
important things in the orchestral score but he doesn’t “dot
the ‘i’s or cross the ‘t’s” as some over-emphatic maestros
do. The overture is given the most riveting reading I can
remember hearing and the choral scenes, notably the first
scene of act 2 (CD1 tracks 8 – 17), is so full of life that
one totally forgets the sound. In this scene there is also
a small change of the sung text: Viva la guerra! (Hurray
for the war!) sings Preziosilla and a few lines later all
the people shout (in the original text) Morte ai Tedeschi!
(Death to the Germans!). This was of course impossible to
record in 1941 during the alliance between Mussolini and Hitler,
so what we hear on the old recording is Morte ai nemici!
(Death to the enemies!). The various departments of the
Turin Radio Chorus sing very well, trained by the eminent
Bruno Erminero.
However good the
chorus, orchestra and conductor are, almost every opera recording
or –performance stands and falls with its soloists, and La
forza del destino needs a host of good singers.
All the singers in this cast are up to the requirements, although
to somewhat varying degrees. Once again I am impressed by
the care CETRA have devoted to casting decisions and this
even extends to the minor parts. The firm-voiced and sensitive
Ernesto Dominici sings a fine Marquis of Calatrava; all the
more sad then that he is killed so early. Luckily Dominici
returns as the Surgeon later in the drama. Another impressive
bass is Dario Caselli, whose Mayor is imposing, while tenor
Giuseppe Nessi makes the most of Trabuco’s little arietta
in the third act (CD2 track 14).
Ebe Stignani,
reigning Italian mezzo-soprano since the late 1920s, has a
formidable voice but is surely better suited to, say, Amneris
and Azucena than to Preziosilla, who should be lighter, livelier.
Still, there is no denying the star quality of her voice;
listen for example to the second act Canzona (CD1 track 12).
The young Saturno Meletti, with his characteristic fast vibrato
is a fine Melitone, more serious than one is used to hearing.
His mock-sermon in act three (CD2 track 17) has very little
of caricature about it and his fourth act aria buffa, sung
while distributing soup to the beggars (CD2 track 20), is
done with verve and glorious tone. The fourth bass (actually
Meletti is more baritone than bass) is the veteran Tancredi
Pasero. Also he has a fast vibrato that it may take some time
to get used to, but his is a warm, noble voice and he is at
his best in the second act finale (CD1 tracks 23 – 24) and
also in the final trio (CD2 track 28).
Maria Caniglia,
undoubtedly one of the great Italian sopranos, leading prima
donna at La Scala for 21 seasons, was at the height of her
powers when this recording was made. She considered this to
be her very best recording ever. Hers was a true dramatic
voice; big, with more steel than velvet and her high notes
could cut through even the thickest orchestral texture. She
didn’t have the warmth of Tebaldi, who was her heir among
Italian sopranos, but she was able to fine down the voice
admirably. Take for instance her first act romanza Me pellegrina
ed orfana (CD1 track 4) or, even more, La Vergine degli
Angeli (CD1 track 24), but the real thrill is in her more
“heroic” singing: Madre, pietosa Vergine (CD1 track
19), affectionately delivered with gleaming high notes, and
her last act aria Pace, pace, mio Dio (CD2 track 26),
where her final Maledizione! is almost horrifying.
The two sworn
enemies turned friends in the battlefield and then again turned
enemies, Alvaro and Don Carlos, are sung with great intensity
by Galliano Masini and Carlo Tagliabue. Both were well over
forty at the time of this recording but display voices in
fine fettle. Neither of them seems to have been a very subtle
singer or actor but they are far from insensitive. Tagliabue,
who was probably at his best in verismo repertoire, sings
his second act ballata Son Pereda, sono ricco d’onore
(CD1 track 16) with a healthy voice, sturdy and with brilliant
top notes. At the end of that scene (track 17) he sings Buona
notte pianissimo and in the duet Solenne in quest’ora
(CD2 track 7) he actually phrases with considerable sensitivity.
Carlos’s great scene and aria, which follows, is one of the
highspots of the whole recording. Tagliabue recorded this
part again, in the mid-1950s with Callas, but by then most
of the bloom was gone from his voice.
Maybe the greatest
surprize on this recording was Galliano Masini, who is also
the least known of principals. His was a true spinto voice,
somewhat baritonal, steady, powerful and top notes of stainless
steel, cutting through the orchestral thunder like lightning.
In the booklet commentaries to EMI’s “The Record of Singing
- Volume Three” Michael Scott writes “splendid voice, not
aided by intelligence”. A splendid voice it is, and he likes
to expose it in all its glory, but I think Scott is a little
too harsh on him. Try his third act aria, La vita è inferno
... Oh, tu che in seno agli angeli (CD2 tracks 2-3) and
there in the recitative he sings softly with good attention
to the text. Of course he grabs every opportunity to show
off. The line Sarò infelice eternamente (I shall be
unhappy forever) (ca. 1 minute into track 2) is impressively
heroic and the aria proper ends gloriously. Before the final
note he scales down to a hushed pianissimo. This is definitely
not insensitive singing. The last act duet with Carlo, before
the duel (CD2 tracks 24 – 25) also has him singing with restraint
and feeling. I refrain from comment but his musical instinct
is far from negligible.
Of existing modern
recordings of this fascinating work, Gardelli’s late 1960s
version on EMI with Arroyo, Bergonzi, Cappuccilli and Raimondi
is still recommendable. I also have a liking for Sinopoli
(DG) with Plowright, Carreras, Bruson and Burchuladze and
with Agnes Baltsa the best Preziosilla anywhere. Also we shouldn’t
forget Gergiev on Philips with the original version as it
was performed in St. Petersburg. Whatever recording you already
have, this Warner set is a wonderful complement. Full texts
but no translations and numerous cue-points: 24 on CD1 and
28 on CD2.
Göran Forsling