Of
the five Verdi operas that Deutsche Grammophon recorded during
the early 1960 under their new contract with Milan’s Teatro
alla Scala, this Trovatore has claims to be the generally
best of them, together with Rigoletto. The latter opera
has divided opinions however, mainly due to one’s reaction to
Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau’s highly individual reading of the
title role. I have held that recording in high esteem ever since
I bought it when it was new, while my colleague Robert Farr
can’t quite fathom F-D’s detailed, Lieder-like and un-Italian
approach to the jester. The Trovatore is a different
affair. Here we have the possibly greatest Italian opera conductor
and a home-bred cast making this one of the most idiomatically
played and sung versions of this oft-recorded opera. There may
be more viscerally thrilling versions but there is no lack of
drama here, even though Serafin, in what I believe was his last
opera set, can feel a little laidback. As always with this conductor
he lets the music speak and keeps it in tight reins without
drawing attention to this detail or that – in his hands the
music unfolds naturally.
We
hear this at the outset where the three timpani rolls and the
following fanfare set the mood through perfect dynamic gradation;
we notice it again with the chorus dialoguing with Ferrando,
who are no boorish fellows but noblemen and consequently well-articulated
and still powerful. Even the famous Anvil Chorus in act 2 is
balanced and springy – no orgy in hammering the anvil to pieces;
instead he places the two anvils to the extreme left and right
and thus offers a nice stereophonic dialogue. He also makes
the soldiers’ chorus, opening act 3, joyous and exuberant but
the second part of it, S´quilli, echeggi la tromba guerriera,
lacks some of the warlike splendour. But this is one of the
few instances that feel undernourished. Throughout the performance
Serafin manages to make this often ridiculed opera sound much
less crude and rum-ti-tum than is the general view of it.
He
also coaxes his singers to, wherever it is possible, exhibit
the lyrical qualities of the score and this is made clear from
the beginning by Ivo Vinco’s Ferrando. He has both authority
and dramatic insight when he relates his horrible tale about
the witch, but he also lightens his voice and he negotiates
some grace-notes with almost nonchalant ease. This is certainly
one of his best recorded performances. Ettore Bastianini as
Count Luna hasn’t quite this ability to lighten his voice. Together
with Robert Merrill he was the finest baritone of the period
– vocally speaking. As an actor with the voice he was more ordinary
and by 1962 some strain had crept into his voice. It was still
a splendid instrument and apart from some aspirates that disrupt
the musical line his set piece, Il balen, is impressively
sung and the cabaletta is glorious. However Bastianini, as so
many others, forgets that the aria is an intimate love song,
not a proclamation of war, and when sung off the text it can
be something quite special, which has been shown by Fischer-Dieskau
on his Verdi recital for EMI back in 1962 and also by Jorma
Hynninen on a mixed recital on Ondine, made in the early 1990s.
I advise interested readers to search out these readings.
Carlo
Bergonzi, on the other hand, who never was a bawler, understands
this to perfection and sings his lovesong¸ Ah! si,
ben mio, with hushed intensity but also with real Italian
glow. This man was a phenomenon. His voice wasn’t particularly
large and, apart from his very earliest recordings for Cetra,
he didn’t produce those penetrating brilliant top notes. On
the other hand his way of colouring the voice, his handling
of nuances, willingness to sing pianissimo and that fabulous
breath control that allowed him to sing the long unbroken phrases
that Verdi often prescribes, set him in a class of his own.
Indeed it is remarkable, and a bit ironic, that the two best
Manricos on disc are Björling and Bergonzi, the two most stylish
tenors of the whole post-war era. Others may have projected
Di quella pira with more force and steel but he has a
compelling rhythmic spring and his high C is brilliant. He is
excellent elsewhere too, most of all in the long second act
scene with Azucena (CD1 tr. 11 – 14). The young Fiorenza Cossotto
is magnificent all through the opera, having both the dark fateful
low register and the gleaming top. It is easy to understand
that she for some years embarked upon soprano repertoire. She
recorded Azucena again for RCA some years later with Domingo
in his first opera recording – another recommended version even
though I slightly prefer the leaner Cossotto on DG.
Antonietta
Stella never quite fulfilled the expectations of her early years,
being over-shadowed by Callas and Tebaldi, but this Trovatore
is possibly her best recording. Her first aria, Tacea la
notte, pales a bit when compared to Callas or Leontyne Price,
but the finale of act 2 finds her in superb shape and her D’amor
sull’ali rosee and the following cabaletta also show her
at her best.
The
minor parts are well taken by stalwarts of La Scala and the
vintage DG sound is excellent. There is no libretto, just an
acceptably detailed synopsis in three languages. I happened
to have the original booklet from the LP issue which also offers
larger print than most CD booklets.
Recommendations?
The present one, as I have already made clear; Cellini’s 1952
recording, now on Naxos, with Björling, Milanov, Barbieri and
Warren; Zubin Mehta on RCA with the young Domingo, Price, Cossotto
and Milnes. Thomas Schippers on EMI, recorded almost simultaneously
with Serafin’s, is a knock-out performance with Corelli and
Merrill singing each other hollow and for a noble but slightly
bloodless version Giulini on DG with Plowright, an idiosyncratic
Brigitte Fassbaender, a middle aged Domingo and a stylish Zancanaro
as Luna. Depending on mood all of these have lots to offer but
my personal favourite is Serafin, offering better sound than
the Cellini.
Göran
Forsling
Ettore Bastianini (baritone) – Il Conte di Luna; Antonietta Stella
(soprano) – Leonora; Fiorenza Cossotto (mezzo-soprano) – Azucena;
Carlo Bergonzi (tenor) – Manrico; Ivo Vinco (bass) – Ferrando; Armanda
Bonato (mezzo-soprano) – Inez; Franco Ricciardi (tenor) – Ruiz;
Giuseppe Morresi (bass) – An old gypsy; Angelo Mercuriali (tenor)
– A messenger
