Gaetano DONIZETTI (1797 - 1848)
L’elisir d’amore (1832)
Bidu Sayão (soprano) - Adina; Bruno Landi (tenor) - Nemorino;
Francesco Valentino (baritone) - Belcore; Salvatore Baccaloni (bass) -
Dulcamara; Mona Paulee (soprano) - Giannetta; Metropolitan Opera Chorus
& Orchestra/Ettore Panizza
rec. live, Metropolitan Opera, New York (broadcast), 3 January 1942
no libretto
PRISTINE AUDIO PACO 072 [68:40 + 51:42]
The name Ettore (originally Héctor) Panizza is not very well
known today, though he was held in high esteem seventy and more years ago.
Richard Strauss admired him deeply. He was born in 1875 in Buenos Aires,
where his father was a cellist at the Teatro Colón. His father also
became his first teacher. He later went to Italy and the Milan Conservatory.
It was also in Italy that he commenced his conducting career. Up to the
beginning of the war he also appeared regularly at Covent Garden. During and
after the war he worked at La Scala, until 1932 when he moved to the US.
Between 1934 and 1942 he was the principal conductor of the Italian
repertoire at the Metropolitan Opera, succeeding Tullio Serafin in that
capacity.
The reason why he is largely forgotten is no doubt that he made few
if any commercial recordings. Fortunately there are a number of live
broadcasts from the Metropolitan that have been preserved, among them a
terrific Otello, from 1938 with Martinelli, Tibbett and Elisabeth
Rethberg (see review). The present L’elisir
d’amore may not be in that class but it has still many good things
on offer. Good sound is not one of those things but it isn’t really
bad either. The transfers by Ward Marston are from a set of 5 double-faced
16 inch glass base lacquer-coated discs taken off the air in Providence,
Rhode Island. The sound is rather aggressive, but it is a clean sound that
lets us hear a lot of instrumental detail. Orchestral tuttis tend to be hard
on the ear. The orchestra play well but the Metropolitan chorus of this
period was not always the most homogenous of bodies. Panizza was no friend
of leisurely tempos but he never rushes the music and he is pliable towards
the singers and allows them space to inflect their solos.
Three Metropolitan mainstays and a fourth singer whose name is
little known are heard in the leading roles. Salvatore Baccaloni (b. 1900)
was widely regarded as one of the foremost buffo basses of the
20th century. He had a magnificent voice and immense comic talent
but I believe that he should be seen as well as heard to make real impact.
He is expressive, he knows how to colour the voice, his enunciation
is impeccable, he has that special sense for timing but - and this is a
strong ‘but’: he often becomes a little too much, there is too
much business. He was, though, a great favourite at the Metropolitan, where
he appeared more than four hundred times during more than twenty years.
Francesco (Frank) Valentino (b. 1907) was not far behind, with close to
three hundred performances during twenty-one seasons. He was Marcello in
Toscanini’s famous 1946 recording of La bohème, but not
a particularly good one. His throaty tone and rather unsubtle singing here
has little of bel canto feeling, but I admit that his brusque manners
suit his character, sergeant Belcore.
The third mainstay is the Brazilian soprano Bidu Sayão. She
was born in 1902, made her debut at the Metropolitan in 1937 and stayed
there until 1952, taking part in well over two hundred performances. She was
granted an uncommonly long life, passing away as recently as 1999. Ms
Sayão was one of the loveliest lyric sopranos of the era, testified
not least by this and other live broadcasts from the Metropolitan. Here she
is a youthful and sprightly Adina, nuanced and with apt coloratura (try CD 2
tr. 16!). Even better are the duets with Nemorino, where the two singers
inspire each other to great things. Nemorino, some readers say, that’s
the odd man out, isn’t it? Bruno Landi, never heard of him!
Well, the loss is definitely the listeners’. Here is a tenore
di grazia, nimble, nuanced, beautiful tone, honeyed delivery but with
brilliant top notes in reserve for the big moments. Cesare Valletti on the
old Cetra recording from 1952 is the touchstone for many, Nicolai
Gedda’s 1964 recording another, and isolated recordings of the famous
Una furtiva lagrima by Tito Schipa, Ferruccio Tagliavini and Leopold
Simoneau are versions to return to. Bruno Landi may not be quite in their
league but he is not far behind. Readers being tempted by my panegyrics will
feel disappointed when hearing the opening of his entrance aria Quanto e
bella (CD 1 tr. 4), where he sounds small voiced and undernourished, but
I suppose he is entering backstage. After a few bars he is up front and can
be enjoyed in all his glory. Una furtiva (CD 2 tr.14) is certainly
delicious.
A few words about the singer. Landi was born in 1900, the same year
as Baccaloni. He made his debut in 1925, as the Duke in Rigoletto,
and sang for the next ten years in Italy. In 1935 he went to South America,
where he was immensely popular. He returned to Italy and now sang at La
Scala. In 1938 he made his Metropolitan debut, again in Rigoletto,
and remained there until 1946, returning in 1951 for a single appearance in
Il barbiere di Siviglia. According to the Metropolitan Opera Data
Base he sang in 56 performances in a handful of operas. Besides the two
already mentioned he appeared in La bohème, La traviata, Don
Pasquale and L’Elisir d’amore. There are a couple of
other live recordings with him.
Let me, just for the record, point out that Giannetta is sung by
Mona Paulee, who had made her Metropolitan debut in this same role a few
weeks earlier and continued to sing cameo roles until May 1946 in a total of
158 performances. Her biggest role wasSiebelin Faust,
which she sang only once, probably as understudy for someone who had to
cancel. There is another ‘soloist’ as well, and a true legend:
Milton Cross, the announcer for the NBC broadcasts from the very first one
in 1931 until his death in 1975. During these 43 years he missed only two
broadcasts!
Everybody needs at least a couple of good recordings of this
delectable opera. The Cetra set with Valletti, The Decca recording with Di
Stefano at his freshest, the EMI recording with Gedda, a later Decca with
Pavarotti and the Sony (originally CBS) with Domingo. The present issue
can’t compete on sonic grounds and neither Valentino nor Baccaloni are
ideal but Sayão and Landi are. A flawed performance saved by the
tenor and the soprano.
Göran Forsling
A flawed performance saved by the tenor and the soprano.