When these songs
and arias were recorded Tito Schipa was around 35 years
old and at the height of his powers. Not that he ever had
a very powerful voice; his was a lyric tenor with none of
the brilliance of, say, Gigli and not a very wide range
either. He didn’t reach high C very often. But he was the
most aristocratic tenor of his, or any time; always elegant,
always tasteful, with fluent runs, no intrusive Hs and never
condescending to the lachrymose tone and the sobs that were
part and parcel of Gigli’s style. He also excelled in the
most perfect diminuendos and pianissimos and his rubatos
- an art that seems more or less extinct nowadays - were
so perfectly judged that one often can’t imagine a certain
song being sung in any other way. The Creole song Ay,
Ay, Ay (track 4) is a perfect example. This song, like
almost half the numbers on the disc, is sung in Spanish,
Schipa obviously having an affection for Iberian music.
His own composition, A Cuba (track 22) is also set
to a Spanish text and is very Spanish in character and it
seems that he has a natural feeling for the Spanish rhythms.
The originals are of course late acoustical recordings,
but his voice is reproduced with astounding clarity and
presence, and maybe, as has sometimes been stated, this
recording technique was perhaps superior when it came to
representing the human voice. The orchestral sound is still
rather primitive, and there the electrical process, introduced
just a year later, was a great leap forward. Anyway Ward
Marston’s restorational work has once again resulted in
sound that could be appreciated not only by die-hard historical
freaks but also by general lovers of great singing. There
are some plops and clicks and all the mechanical background
noise from the old shellacs has not been eliminated, but
so immediate is the reproduction of Schipa’s voice, and
so agreable is his singing that one soon forgets it. When
the electrical process was launched many of these numbers
were re-recorded and they are also the most well-known and
most often reissued but, as Alan Blyth states in his comments,
these earlier efforts probably catch Schipa at his very
best.
And which are
the highlights? The answer is simple: all of them! There
is not one number here that doesn’t show Schipa’s mastery.
Take Arlecchino’s Serenade (track 2) for instance: has it
ever been more seductively sung? Take the Manon aria (track
5), sung in Italian but that is about the only objection
one can have. Quiéreme mucho (track 8) by the (to
me at least) unknown Roig, turns out to be a lovely song
and Ponce’s A la orilla de un palmar (track 9) has
a final diminuendo that makes one go into a trance. The
two Rossini arias are of course exemplary, especially the
Serenade (track 13) where Schipa also provides his own guitar
accompaniment. The final diminuendo could be a lesson to
any modern singer, and the two arias from Mignon – again
sung in Italian – have probably never been challenged, unless
it be Leopold Simoneau on his DG recordings from the 1950s.
The three duets
with Galli-Curci, the leading coloratura soprano of the
period, are instructive. In the Sonnambula excerpt Schipa
colours his voice and caresses the phrases while Galli-Curci
is more monochrome and sounds only mildly interested, but
of course she is technically utterly secure and her voice
has that bell-like clarity that was her hall-mark. The same
goes for Un di felice eterea from the first act of
La traviata where Schipa is audibly in love with Violetta,
while Galli-Curci is a rather cold and impersonal canary,
just twittering her notes. In the last act duet Schipa is
just as caring and caressing and here it seems that the
soprano is more inside the role and has realized Violetta’s
predicament.
There is full
documentation in the insert and with generous playing time
this issue can be strongly recommended. There isn’t much
better – and tasteful - tenor singing anywhere in recorded
history!
Göran Forsling
see also Review
by Jonathan Woolf