Frederica von Stade has husbanded her voice wisely and consequently
had a long career, yet there is little doubt that the recordings
she made in the mid to late 1970s display her beautiful voice
at its freshest and most appealing. Affectionately known to
her fans as “Flicka”, she has long vied with Marilyn
Horne for the title of “America’s favourite mezzo-soprano”,
but given the difference in their repertoires, she was never
really in direct competition with Horne as their voice-types,
although both nominally within the same category, are very different.
The main overlap has come in their shared coloratura facility,
especially in Rossini - although even there, they differ in
areas of strength, Horne offers greater pyrotechnic facility
and brilliance while von Stade excels in music requiring plangency
and pathos.
I have long loved the melting luxuriance of her voice, with
its plush low notes and light, sensuous, flickering vibrato
and am delighted that three of her early recitals have been
re-issued by ArkivMusic under licence from Sony. The standard
LP length of around fifty minutes of music now seems short measure,
but I readily admit that the current norm of 80 minutes on CD
sometimes constitutes more than I want to hear at one sitting,
especially of only one voice, so I have no complaints when the
singing is of the quality on offer here.
This recital offers arias spanning three hundred years of Italian
opera. The programme is eclectic and the last item might even
seem a little incongruous, in that we leap from Baroque of Broschi
(who?) to the verismo of Leoncavallo but the music has been
chosen carefully to display all the merits, virtues and charms
of von Stade’s mezzo range. She is always ideal playing
suffering women in various states of distress, scorn and abuse
and as such was always an adorable Cenerentola/Cendrillon in
Rossini and Massenet respectively, but it is something of a
relief to hear her sing two more upbeat Rossini arias in the
trouser role of Tancredi and the exultant Semiramide. The latter
features the one slightly less than agreeable characteristic
of her voice which was apparent even in her prime and was to
become more noticeable over time: the slight discoloration of
notes from top B and above - in other words, the required “upper
extension” of the Rossini mezzo with which Colbran (Rossini’s
wife) herself soon began to experience difficulties. Conversely,
it is also the aria which displays her perfect trill and equal
gift for elation as opposed to unvaried melancholy.
She lives each character most convincingly; the least overtly
characterised item is the aria from Broschi’s “Idaspe”
which will constitute a pleasant surprise to new generations
of operaphiles. It is a static, old-fashioned display aria,
very grand and dignified with its soaring tune and staccato-obbligato
trumpet accompaniment, originally written for the castrato divo
Farinelli, Von Stade nicely encompasses the switches on this
disc between male and female roles by colouring her voice differently,
with a more mellow timbre. For Paisiello’s Nina, she adopts
an aptly lighter, more feminine tone suggestive of innocence
and simplicity as befits the music, which is reminiscent of
Gluck in plaintive mode, especially given the prominence of
the flute accompaniment.
The leap to Leoncavallo’s mezzo Musetta is a wrench but
one is soon swept along by the gorgeous tune, lush orchestration
and von Stade’s trademark ability to tug the heartstrings.
In a sense, we have come full emotional circle from the opening
item, in which von Stade recalls a famous Glyndebourne role
and movingly delineates Penelope’s fidelity and devotion.
She is ably supported here by fellow-mezzo Janice Taylor’s
Eridea.
The support from Mario Bernardi and the Canadian orchestra is
sensitive and flexible, the recorded sound ideal. This disc
makes a perfect companion to “von Stade’s delectable
French opera aria recital made in 1976 under Pritchard.
Ralph Moore
Frederica von Stade (mezzo) 
78518 [50:43] 
