It is good news to have this immortal performance reissued for
us to enjoy again at budget price. Of these two versions the
Naxos is in much better sound, but first to the performance.
This Boccanegra was among the last
of the great EMI opera recordings to be made in mono; it’s from
the same time as Sawallisch’s great Capriccio. Considering
that stereo was around at the time there’s an unavoidable sense
of a missed opportunity when listening to this recording. It
would be far more competitive today if the sound were better.
If you can put this aside, however, you’re in for a treat.
It remains a mystery to me why this opera is not far better
known. Its 1881 revision was Verdi’s first collaboration with
Boito and it produced the fantastic Great Council Scene of Act
I. Verdi also revised much of the existing music to create
a marvellously rich texture which ranks alongside the rest of
his late masterpieces.
For much of the era after the Second World
War Tito Gobbi was the Boccanegra of choice all across
Europe and this recording captures his performance at its best.
He is vulnerable and touching in the Prologue as he bargains
with Fiesco and receives the tragic news of his lover’s death.
Then his voice finds an innate nobility for the rest of the
opera in his appearances as Doge. His reading carries undeniable
authority and grandeur, like a granite outcrop around which
all the other characters must orientate themselves. There’s
nothing wrong with this, but I found him oddly one-dimensional
once you get into the second half of the opera. The recognition
scene of Act I is overwhelming, but after that he seems to have
plenty of nobility but not much else. His death scene in Act
III is statuesque and firm, but we surely need more flexibility
in the best readings of this part. I couldn’t help but think
of Piero Cappuccilli whose reading of the part for Abbado on
his (still matchless) DG recording is subtle, inflected and
endlessly fascinating. I can only conclude that Gobbi must
have been more compelling in the theatre and that the studio
conditions didn’t quite suit him. Still, the good far outweighs
the mediocre and much of what you hear is a real master-class
in singing.
The other soloists are every bit as good
as Gobbi and in some cases even more satisfying. Victoria de
los Angeles is a remarkable Amelia. She sings with a rich, throaty
character that one would expect from a mezzo, lending her characterisation
a maturity and depth that others tend to lack. At the same
time her top notes are ringing and clear, showing rare security
at both ends of her range. Her excitement at her first view
of Adorno in Act I and her contribution to the Trio of Act II
are only two highlights from a magnificently rounded performance.
As for Adorno himself, this recording makes me wonder why I
had heard so little of Giuseppe Campora. His tenor carries
a heroic ring to it, especially in the first scene with Amelia,
but he also has the strength to ride the great ensemble in the
Council Scene. He feels every inch the hero both here and in
the final scene where he is invested as the new Doge. He is
perhaps a little less focused in his big Act II aria where he
loses a little punch. He fades a little into the background
for the trio, but he is still a worthy spinto tenor.
Christoff, always an arresting presence, here takes full command
of the role and dominates each scene in which he appears. He
is at his best during the truly titanic confrontation with Boccanegra
in the final scene, and Il lacerato spirito feels like
grief memorialised. Monachesi is a thoroughly nasty Paolo who
responds with particular horror to the cursing in the Council
Scene.
Santini is a real master at pacing and shaping
Italian opera, as his many recordings testify. For a master-class
in how this is done just listen to the prelude to Act I: beautifully
subtle nature-painting which unfolds slowly but purposefully,
flowering at just the right time before the soprano’s entry.
The Rome Opera Orchestra follow him like a flock to its shepherd,
and the chorus sing with gusto in the various scenes where they
are required to rebel and intrigue.
All told then this is a great performance
of a truly great opera. So which edition to choose? Well the
Naxos edition wins fairly easily. There has long been a market
for the re-mastering of these old recordings once their 50-year
copyright expires. This one seems to have slipped through the
cracks of EMI’s own budget labels so Regis and Naxos have quite
correctly jumped at the same time. However, Naxos has done
a far better job at re-mastering a recording where tape hiss
was always on the high side. Mark Obert-Thorn is fast acquiring
a reputation as the best in the business at this sort of thing
and he has managed to all but eliminate any intrusive tape hiss
on this recording. The opening scene in particular, with all
its comings and goings and plotting, comes up with special clarity.
You could nearly convince yourself that you were listening to
a staged stereo version. He also seems to have stripped away
most of the fug that surrounds the orchestral sound, and the
opening of Act I, so subtle and filigree in its orchestration,
comes up better than ever before. In contrast to this there
is still very obvious and intrusive tape hiss in the Regis recording,
and this never goes away. You can perhaps get to the stage
where you zone it out, but why should you when the Naxos takes
care of it so clearly? There is distortion at the climax of
the great ensemble in the Council Scene, something Naxos manage
to avoid. There are also other little irritating things about
the Regis release, such as mistiming the beginning of certain
tracks: CD 1 track 6 or CD 2 track 2, for example. There is
really no need for such a schoolboy error and Regis need to
pay more attention to the detail here. When both are at super
budget price this makes the choice a no-brainer.
So well done Naxos for re-releasing and
re-mastering such a great recording and cleaning it up so that
it sounds better than ever. Enjoy it for a taste of a great ensemble
performance the like of which we just don’t tend to get these
days.
Simon Thompson