Giuseppe VERDI (1813-1901)
Rigoletto - Operatic melodrama in three acts (1851) [110:43]
Duke of Mantua - Richard Tucker (tenor); Rigoletto, his jester - Robert Merrill
(baritone); Gilda, Rigoletto’s daughter - Roberta Peters (soprano);
Sparafucile, a villain available for hire as an assassin - Bonaldo Giaiotti
(bass); Maddalena, his sister - Mignon Dunn (mezzo); Giovanna, Gilda’s
Duenna - Carlotta Ordassy (contralto); Count Monterone - John Macurdy (bass);
Marullo, a courtier - Calvin Marsh (baritone); Matteo Borsa, a courtier -
Arthur Graham (tenor); Count Ceprano - Robert Patterson (baritone); Contessa
Ceprano - Joy Clements Galassi (soprano)
Metropolitan Opera Chorus and Orchestra/Fausto Cleva
rec. September 1955, Teatro alla Scala, Milan, live radio broadcast, 22 February
1964. ADD, mono.
SONY CLASSICAL 88697 91005 2 [52:26 + 58:17]
I try to avoid being too picky and a little voice tells me that I should be
more grateful for this recording than I feel. That said, this is in many ways
standard fare from the Metropolitan Opera of the 1960s. If we had no other
souvenir of Robert Merrill in one of his best roles it would be more treasurable
but he made two fine studio recordings with Perlea in 1956 and Solti in 1964.
His interpretation here barely differs in any respect from either of them.
He is musically utterly dependable and wholly secure of voice, moving both
in his solos and when duetting with Gilda, if never displaying the nuances
or variety of vocal colour that Gobbi or Taddei find in the role. It is a
noble, beautiful voice in all three of the recordings I compared but to hear
him at his most expressive and refulgent the 1963 set under Solti is the pick,
especially as that is in excellent stereo and generates more excitement than
Cleva’s competent but routine direction achieves.
There are other advantages to the Solti set, not least Anna Moffo’s
vulnerable, gorgeously vocalised Gilda. Roberta Peters had Gilda in her repertoire
for thirty years, recording it first with Merrill, to whom she had been briefly
married, in the Perlea set for RCA. It was also her farewell role at the Met
in 1985. Her fans will find her in freshest voice in that earlier recording
with Merrill and Björling but for me there was too much of the soubrette
in her tone. I find that as early as 1964 her voice sounds rather piercing
and shrill and I do not much enjoy her excursions in alt to hit D flat and
even E flat at the conclusions of “Bella figlia” and Act 2 respectively.
She is an affecting actress despite the monochromatic tendency of her voice
and the chemistry between her and Merrill, especially in that heart-breaking
concluding duet, is palpable.
It is good to have a souvenir of Richard Tucker as the Duke: ebullient and
in clarion voice, he sounds rather mature but his lovely legato and exemplary
diction make him a credible libertine, even if he’s no young Pavarotti
or Björling. Although I am not always a fan of Alfredo Kraus, his Duke
for Solti is possibly his best recorded role and his elegant tones are certainly
more apt for the part. Tucker doesn’t take the optional B flat on “agli
angeli” at the end of “Parmi veder le lagrime” and his cabaletta
“Possente amor” is cut, as was standard practice at that time.
The only other cut is the first appearance of “Ah! veglia, o donna”;
Rigoletto and Gilda sing only the duet, not their initial verse each.
Unless you particularly want Tucker as the Duke or Peters as Gilda, the Solti
recording remains sonically and interpretatively superior to this mono radio
broadcast. The sound here is perfectly acceptable but for that stupendous
Third Act to make its impact, you really want Solti’s drive and atmospheric
sound. Both Perlea and Cleva are rather stodgy by comparison; I also rate
highly Bonynge’s work in the much-maligned 1971 recording which to me
does not by any means deserve the criticism which has been directed towards
it over the forty years since its appearance. The LSO is hugely energised
under him and his remains one of my four favourite recordings alongside the
Solti, the Gobbi/Callas set under Serafin and the old Cetra set with Taddei
and Tagliavini. Serafin is not as high-powered as Solti or Bonynge but still
sustains terrific tension in that last scene. Peters’ sustained squeal
as she enters Sparafucile’s den is hammy and melodramatic; she does
the same in the Perlea recording to no advantage.
Giaiotti is a splendidly saturnine Sparafucile with the low notes required
and Mignon Dunn is an appropriately luscious-voiced Maddalena who sounds genuinely
appalled by her brother’s plan to murder her lover - not that it stops
her suggesting an equally reprehensible Plan B.
In short, this is a wholly creditable souvenir of a good night at the Met
but for repeated listening you really want more resplendent sound and more
inspired conducting.
Ralph Moore
A wholly creditable souvenir of a good night at the Met