Georg Solti never recorded
Turandot commercially, which
makes this issue extra welcome. He recorded
on the whole very little Puccini – only
La Bohème and Tosca.
It is quite possible that Puccinian
sentimentality wasn’t to his taste.
If that was the case Turandot
should be the ideal Puccini opera for
him with its big mass-scenes, its intense
drama and colourful orchestration. He
also makes the most of the score’s meatier
passages in his typically high-strung
striving for maximum dramatic effect.
He is well served by the excellent mono
recording, impressively dynamic and
with an almost analytical clarity that
allows us to hear every strand of Puccini’s
scoring. Since this is a studio recording
there is almost perfect balance and
none of the disturbing noises that often
mar live productions.
He makes his mark from
the outset with typical precision, rhythmic
drive and eager forward movement. The
chorus at the beginning of the first
act is a real tour de force,
just as the spectacular introduction
and chorus in act 2, after the Ping,
Pang and Pong scene. These are two isolated
examples, chosen because they are easy
to sample for those who have the opportunity
to listen before buying. Time and again
Solti wrings out every drop of intensity,
while sometimes losing momentum in the
more lyrical music.
By and large it’s a
winning performance. With excellent
support from orchestra and chorus this
is a reading to challenge some other
recordings of the work. Truth to tell
there wouldn’t have been much competition
had this version been issued when it
was new: the old pre-war Cetra and the
then new Decca with Inge Borkh, Mario
del Monaco and Renata Tebaldi. Leinsdorf’s
RCA recording with Nilsson, Björling
and Tebaldi again was to appear within
a couple of years. These were starry
casts and on paper the present group
of singers doesn’t look too promising,
but in practice it isn’t to be easily
dismissed. One immediate drawback is
of course that they sing in German,
a language that, with its many tricky
consonant-combinations, is difficult
to adapt to Italian legato singing.
To some extent the impression of squareness
is due to the language but some of the
singers would probably have sounded
four-square in any language. The Mandarin
is loud and barking, which doesn’t matter
much, but a wooden Calaf is a serious
defect. Hans Hopf was, during the 1950s,
a leading Heldentenor in Germany with
a strong and penetrating voice but not
very subtle. I learnt Tannhäuser
through Konwitschny’s HMV recording
with a fine cast, including Fischer-Dieskau
and Gottlob Frick, but it was hopelessly
marred by Hopf’s loud and strained singing
of the title role. He isn’t much different
here, apart from more brilliance at
the top. He is almost constantly loud,
rather shaky and often barks his way
through the score. It is not until the
last act that he seems to read the dynamic
instructions and halfway through Nessun
dorma there comes a metamorphosis
when he suddenly ends the first stanza
of the aria with a finely honed diminuendo.
And lo and behold: in the finale – this
is the Alfano completion – he even scales
down to some truly lyrical phrases.
Love can transform even the woodiest
tenor. But of course this late awakening
can’t compensate for all the barking
in the previous acts.
Christel Goltz, a sadly
under-recorded dramatic soprano, has
the volume and voice-type for Turandot.
At the top, which is exposed almost
constantly through the short but extremely
strenuous part, she has an icy brilliance
to challenge even Birgit Nilsson. That
said, she lacks the steadiness of the
Swedish diva. But she is fearless and
deeply involved in the role. By and
large this is one of the greatest readings
of the role. In my experience only Birgit
Nilsson in either of her two recordings
and Alessandra Marc on the recent RTVE
recording from Bilbao are better – and
that’s only marginally. The present
recording has another trumpcard: Teresa
Stich-Randall who is certainly one of
the loveliest Liùs ever. Compared
to Christel Goltz she has a smallish
voice and in the only scene where the
two sopranos meet this means that there
are no problems to know who is singing
what. Few singers in the role have managed
such heavenly pianissimos as Ms Stich-Randall,
holding on to the tone seemingly forever
in her first act aria. At forte she
can be a mite unsteady but this is soon
forgotten in view of so much superb
phrasing. The aria in act three, directed
to Turandot, is the high-spot of the
performance.
Wilhelm Schirp, a singer
I hadn’t heard before, is a warm and
steady Timur. Karl Schiebener is a thin-voiced
but beautiful and not very old sounding
Emperor. The trio Ping, Pang and Pong
are good actors, led by Horst Günter
who was an important baritone in the
German repertoire half a century ago.
There is an essay on
the opera and a generalized synopsis,
both in three languages, but no texts.
While this can’t be a general recommendation
for a first choice Turandot there
are so many good things that it should
be of interest to more than specialists.
Solti collectors should definitely acquire
it.
Göran Forsling