"DDD" I read
on the front of the booklet as well
as on the disc labels. I wonder. This
Aida was recorded in 1971, although
Capriccio nowhere give any information
about venues and dates. It would be
a surprise indeed if Balkanton, who
made the original recording, would have
been that much in the forefront of technical
development so long ago. But never mind,
digital or not, what counts is the result,
technically and artistically. Against
my normal procedure I actually looked
up a couple of earlier reviews, this
set having been released several times
on different labels. This was no uplifting
reading. In June 1999 John Steane wrote
a thumbnail review in Gramophone,
beginning: "Twenty-four reasons
for not buying this are given on the
Gramophone Database in the shape of
24 other recordings of the opera, all
of them preferable." In March 1989
another guru in the same magazine, Alan
Blyth, was marginally less negative,
but his final verdict was still a discouraging
"All in all this is the kind of
performance you would be quite pleased
to hear on a visit to Sofia but not
one, even at bargain price, that stands
up to the competition on CD ..."
Harsh words indeed
from two of the most respected and experienced
vocal and opera experts in the world
– so what is there to add? Well, catching
at the proverbial straw that Alan Blyth
offers, I started listening from the
basis that I actually was in
Sofia, having seen the above reviews
and wanted to set them to the test.
The costs for these super-budget CDs
are probably roughly the same as for
a good seat in the National Opera and
I save the costs for the journey. Whether
the performance actually was recorded
in the National Opera I don’t know but
my first reaction was that the acoustics
were generous but not particularly atmospheric.
The sound picture is crude and the recording
balance puts the soloists right in your
lap while chorus and orchestra are at
a fair distance, but the lack of depth
remains a problem. Blyth refers to the
recording "as if it was made in
a swimming bath" while Steane talks
of "a nasty reverberant acoustic
and bad balance". Well, I have
heard better things – but also worse.
Listening then to the orchestra I don’t
have any complaints as to the quality
of the actual sound. It may not be the
Vienna Phil or the LSO but it is definitely
not provincial and knowing the orchestra
from a number of other recordings, this
was what I had expected. The chorus,
too, is highly professional and you
can hear rougher performances in even
the most prestigious houses. They have
enough heft to make the big choral scenes
in the first two acts pompous and the
beginning of act one scene two offers
some finely nuanced soft singing, marred
by a squally Sacerdotessa. Ivan Marinov’s
conducting is, on the other hand, more
workaday. Having undoubtedly led many
an Aida before, he contents himself
with beating time and following the
basic instructions in the score – but
better that than tampering too much
with the composer’s intentions in order
to be personal. Blyth mentions in passing
that he "contributes to the rather
vulgar feeling conveyed by the whole
affair". Hmmmm. I have heard worse.
Nothing of what I have
had to say so far, even if I may have
tempered some of my colleagues’ negativisms,
will probably tempt readers to run to
the nearest record store, but I can
anticipate the next question: What about
the soloists? After all, good solo singing
is the determining factor to most opera
lovers, I suspect. A look at the cast-list
reveals that there are at least three
singers here with important international
careers – the Radamès, Amneris
and Ramfis, the latter being the first
voice we hear after the prelude: imposing
and sonorous it is, a true bass that
radiates a certain fatherly warmth.
He doesn’t seem very interested in delineating
a three-dimensional character. On the
other hand Ramfis is more an archetype
than a human being and Nikola Ghiuselev
portrays his high priesthood with convincing
authority. Vocally he is not far behind
colleagues like Ghiaurov or Giaiotti.
Alan Blyth thought him "worthwhile".
Next we hear Radamès. The singer
is Nikola Nikolov, born in Sofia in
1925, making his debut as Pinkerton
in 1947. During his heyday in the 1950s
and 1960s he appeared at all the great
houses: Bolshoi, Vienna, Covent Garden,
Berlin, San Carlo in Naples, Barcelona,
Geneva, Frankfurt. He made his debut
with the Metropolitan Opera as Don José
in 1960. He celebrated his 70th
birthday singing Don José and
his 75th singing Manrico,
both at the Sofia National Opera. Longevity
indeed! What I hear is a strong, mostly
steady, fearless and untiring voice,
much in the mould of Mario Del Monaco,
whom he also resembles in his unwillingness
to sing anything softer than a fortissimo.
Celeste Aida comes out as a battle-cry
instead of a declaration of love, but
elsewhere his clarion tones don’t come
amiss – Radamès is after all
a warrior. And listening to his entrance
in the Nile scene, his Pur ti riveggo,
mia dolce Aida … (CD2 track 11)
sends a chill down the spine; this is
really thrilling in a primitive way.
Moreover he is hardly ever lachrymose
– some more celebrated names certainly
are – he doesn’t go over the top and
he has presence. And – lo and behold
– in the Tomb-scene, at La fatal
pietra sovra me si chiuse CD2 track
19), for the first time he shades down
his voice – and to fine effect. When
he discovers Aida in the dark he even
makes a good diminuendo on Tu … in
questa tomba! Alan Blyth finds him
"pretty coarse and unsteady"
and "fairly rough on the ears".
When, immediately after
Celeste Aida, Amneris appears,
we meet a real King’s daughter. We sit
up in our imaginary stalls’ seat and
prick up our ears: here is a great singer
– and a great actress. I have earlier
this year praised Alexandrina Milcheva
in a couple of Rimsky-Korsakov operas
(see review) and here, at the height
of her powers, she is nothing less than
glorious. Even my jaded Gramophone
colleagues reach for superlatives.
John Steane says in his sole positive
remark: "In favour is the magnificent
voice of Alexandrina Milcheva, whose
‘Anatema su voi’ would, ‘in the flesh’
bring the house down." It definitely
brought mine down. Alan Blyth puts it:
"As Amneris, the commanding Milcheva
is really out to slay her audience in
her jealous outbursts. Though she is
a bit unrelenting in the use of her
chest voice, she certainly makes her
mark in Act 4 – I don’t think you’ll
hear her music delivered with such earthy
panache on any rival version – but it’s
all a bit unsubtle." I concur with
him, but have to say that her use of
the chest voice certainly is what makes
her interpretation so thrilling – and
I wouldn’t call it unsubtle. I had intended
not to make any direct comparisons –
just relying on my memory – but I couldn’t
help dragging out the Mehta version,
where Grace Bumbry was one of the glories;
she sounded pale by the side of Milcheva.
Amneris’s father, the
King of Egypt, is sung by another dark-voiced
bass, Stefan Tsiganchev, who of course
has fairly little to sing, but what
little he has he delivers with stern
authority. So much for the Egyptians.
Turning now to the Ethiopians, where
we have another father-daughter relation,
King Amonasro, sung by Nikolay Smochevsky,
is a rather pleasant acquaintance. His
first appearance, in the Triumph-scene,
shows him as a somewhat lightweight
baritone with a good legato – I jotted
down "not bad" on my pad –
but in the third act, the Nile Scene,
he appears to advantage, making a real
character of Amonasro and acting convincingly
with the voice. Listen to him in the
duet with Aida (CD2 track 10) at Radamès
so che qui attendi … Even Alan Blyth
expresses a certain admiration, however
reluctantly: "The baritone intones
Amonasro’s imprecations with a certain
rude authority." Like father, like
daughter? I am afraid not. The real
weak point in this performance is Yulia
Wiener-Chenisheva’s Aida. It is a big
voice, like all the others, and she
easily rides the orchestra at the big
climaxes, helped to a certain extent
by the recording balance, but she is
shrill and has an unpleasant vibrato.
Here Alan Blyth’s remark "fairly
rough on the ears" fits like a
glove. She doesn’t make many attempts
to interpret the part either, although
she fines her voice down to something
resembling a pianissimo on the very
last note of the Nile aria, and here
the voice is beautiful and steady. It
also has to be said that the voice isn’t
wobbly and there is never any doubt
about what notes she is aiming at. Sadly
the sound in itself is unattractive
and an Aida without a good Aida
is something like a good footballer
with a missing leg.
Hearing this performance
as a one-time visit to the Sofia National
Opera wasn’t a totally dispiriting experience.
There is a certain thrill in hearing
big voices in larger-than-life music.
At least in the case of Milcheva’s Amneris
I have been in for a world-class interpretation
– on discs maybe challenged only by
Fiorenza Cossotto. I found more to enjoy
than John Steane and Alan Blyth did
and I will certainly keep the discs
as a souvenir of the event – but I don’t
think I will reprise the performance
tomorrow.
Göran Forsling
Sofia National Opera Chorus and Orchestra/Ivan
Marinov 
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