This is a wonderful performance of Figaro taken
live from the Met during the Second World War, the cast as good as anyone
could surely wish for, though I do have one reservation. Guild Music
has an association with Immortal Performances which has an archive of
first-generation historic broadcasts from the 1930s and 1940s. This
initial release (a complete 1937 Siegfried, excerpts from a 1928
Boris Godunov with Chaliapin, and all of Act 2 of Parsifal
from 1938 are the other mouth-watering offerings) sets a standard hard
to beat. All the discs are transfers from the original transcription
discs master tapes, and the complete Toscanini concerts are also planned.
Regrettably Bruno Walter’s performances of this production
earlier in 1943 were not up to transferable standard but one is assured
that Paul Breisach takes over with very little change. His tempi occasionally
hurry but lapses in ensemble are rare, and when they are, it is either
the drama which has caused it, or distant upstage singing. Act Four
has a rushed conclusion which almost leaves the timpanist behind but
he does catch up. The audience is fully involved, laughs when you expect
them to (Cherubino, the Count and THAT chair, the revelation to Susanna
of Figaro’s parentage in the Sextet in Act 3, the slaps he gets in Acts
3 and 4, and Antonio’s denial that he saw a horse jump down from the
window in Act 2), showing that they knew their Italian, and their opera,
without the aid of surtitles. The only irritant is the applause which
greets each new character on his or her first appearance (and therefore
covers Mozart’s glorious music), though is it critical discernment which
makes them deny this accolade to John Brownlee as Count Almaviva? If
so I must agree with them. Despite his Glyndebourne pedigree nine years
before, his wooden delivery comes not within a mile of the combined
artistry of Ezio Pinza or Salvatore Baccaloni - it’s all terribly British
and disappointingly dull until his Act 3 aria where at last, and not
a moment too late, he begins to unbutton vocally and respond to the
vocal glories of his colleagues which surround him. Pinza is in glorious
voice, dynamic and powerfully dramatic when his ire is aroused but his
voice never forces nor loses its natural beauty, and one can see Baccaloni
as one listens to his vivid and personable portrayal of Doctor Bartolo.
The women are simply glorious without exception, wonderfully
moving singing by the Bruno Walter protégée Steber (this
was her broadcast debut), a bright and bubbly performance by Sayão
as Susanna. When the two of them sing the Letter Duet one could wish
for nothing more on this mortal coil, it really is that ravishing a
blend. There’s an ardent Cherubino from the stunning Novotna, and the
usual antics from Marcellina and Barbarina, Glaz and Farell respectively.
The orchestra is excellent, the continuo playing regrettably
on a piano (but that must be expected from those days), with the player
occasionally failing to keep the action moving after arias or ensembles
thanks to persistent audience applause, and one senses his frustration.
On the whole the sound is good (a few dips here and there), some spots
had to have inserts from a different broadcast (but with the same cast
of course) when the original was unacceptable, there’s noise here and
there apart from stage sounds and footfalls, and the prompter’s audibility
is an irritant - one wonders that he would be needed with such a cast,
but again that’s a small price to pay for the vocal glories of this
set, anyway but it all adds to the flavour of the performance and to
the sense of occasion.
The filler is an hour of a post-war broadcast concert,
the spoken commentary between numbers retained despite its rather black-and-white
film stilted delivery, but it gives a chance to hear the Brazilian Sayão
again in more pyrotechnical music (eight years after Figaro,
the voice has more body the lower range more textual colour), while
the American tenor Eugene Conley is very impressive in his Lalo and
Massenet arias. The final track is an eloquent and raptuorous account
by both singers (in an excellent blend) of the duet which concludes
the first act of Manon, excellent that is apart from Conley’s
execrable spoken French.
I cannot recommend this Figaro set highly enough.
Christopher Fifield
Robert Farr has also listened to this recording
Guild Music's "Immortal Performances", a series
of operas and orchestral works derived from broadcasts, was launched
in January 2002. The sources come via the Immortal Performances Recorded
Music Society and Richard Canniel who have had access to NBC (American)
broadcast transcriptions and preservations made for singers, from the
1930s and 1940s. These first generation tapes, originally made in the
late 1940s, have been subject to restorative techniques aimed specifically
at preserving the overtones of the voice and instruments, as well as
the original acoustic; no electronic reverberation has been added. Where,
as was often the case with NBC, more than one performance of an opera
was broadcast in a season, the choice has been made on the basis of
the best sounding performance available. On these facts it is claimed
that this series represents "The Finest in Broadcast Recordings".
Many will also be heartened to see the name of Keith Hardwick as "Series
Consultant. Certainly the NBC opera broadcasts from the Met, which continue
to this day, have casts and conductors which read like a roll-call of
the greatest, just as they often still do. If the series' aims are realised
by the discs issued, it will be a veritable treasure-trove of pleasure
for collectors. It should, perhaps, be pointed out more clearly that
an unusual degree of artistic licence has been used in these transfers
to CD in that where masters were found to be in poor condition, insertions
have been made from other performances, usually, but not always, involving
the same cast and conductor. While the reasons are laudable, some purists
may find this unacceptable. It will be incumbent on reviewers to point
out these insertions when present.
The 1942-43 season at the Met, was memorable for the
series of performances of Figaro under the baton of Bruno Walter
and which are the basis of this set. Regrettably, Richard Caniell tells
us in his note, the broadcast under Walter is far inferior in sound
to this post-tour performance under Breisach, who provides a
well-paced and pointed contribution with good control of ensemble. Walter,
contentiously, had chosen the young Eleanor Steber as the Countess.
Born 1916, she had made her Met debut barely two years before as Sophie
in Rosenkavalier, and the management had reservations. In no
way can her tone be described as refulgent or creamy as Te Kanawa's
was when she was launched in the same part at Covent Garden in 1971.
Steber's is a girlish Countess with a light silvery tone. Her Porgi
Amor (CD1 tr19) lacks nothing in expression. There is no vocal confusion
with the spunky fuller toned Susanna of Bidu Sayao, who in her
16 seasons at the Met, sang 12 roles including Rosina, Violetta (much
admired ), Adina and Gilda. Here, she holds a lovely line, bringing
great nuance and expression to her singing; she sparkles throughout.
Her Deh vieni (CD3 tr6) shows her strengths to perfection. The
third major female singing role, that of the trousers role of Cherubino,
is taken by Jarmila Novotna. Born in Prague in 1907 she had a
considerable career in Europe before arriving at the Met in 1940. (She
had sung Adina with Schipa, Gilda with Lauri-Volpi, and Butterfly with
Tauber with whom she sang the world premiere of Lehár's Giuditta
- quite a list!). In sixteen seasons with the Company she sang 205
performances of 14 roles. Although later she sang Orlofsky and Octavian
she did not dwell in the mezzo fach. A woman of grace and beauty she
must have made a great impression as Cherubino with vocal heft and colourful
tone.
The men in the cast are equally distinguished. The
eponymous hero is sung by the great Ezio Pinza. Born 1892, he
spent 22 seasons at the Met.(1926-48), before going over to musicals
including South Pacific's "Some Enchanted Evening", giving. 878
performances of 52 roles in 48 operas. As Figaro he gives a firm toned,
vocally secure performance with a wide range of expression; nuances
with his native language are a listening pleasure, even if his tone
and phrasing are not as mellifluous as Taddei's for Giulini or Siepi's
for Kleiber; both compatriots. However, Pinza's tonal bite (allied,
could we but see it, to his renowned histrionic ability), make this
a formidable portrayal. The Count of John Brownlee, well known
as Don Giovanni at pre-war Glyndebourne, and who sang 20 seasons at
the Met. (1937-57), is no match for Pinza as a vocal actor, but his
firm full-toned singing has bite; plenty of electricity sparks between
this master and his servant!
Of the other singers, the most distinguished by reputation
and performance is the Bartolo of Salvatore Baccaloni. Much admired
in buffo roles, one senses that the audience were feeding from every
vocal nuance and facial expression. He scarcely finishes his aria before
applause breaks in.
The usual theatre cuts common at the time are applied.
This allows 37 minutes, including commentary, of extracts from a Standard
Hour Concert given by Bidu Sayao and tenor Eugene Conley in San
Francisco in September 1951. Sayao's is the voice to listen to, particularly
the two extracts from Manon.
Back to Figaro. It is a sparkling performance,
very well sung and conducted and, sound-wise, easy to listen to. The
voices are heard to better effect than the more recessed orchestra.
Yes, there are some clicks and surface noise from time to time. Those
used to listening to live, or studio, recordings from this period will
find little to object to and much to enjoy. However, the matter of applause
is more contentious. Then, as now, Met. audiences give regular vent
to applause, not only at the end of arias and acts, but often on the
lifting of a curtain or the entrance of a favourite singer. This has
an inevitable effect on the frisson of a live performance.
The booklet provides track listings, photographs and
biographical details of the singers, and detailed comments on the performances
and the selections made. Interpolations from a different broadcast,
with the same cast, that "amount to 5 minutes in Act. 1, some 6 minutes
in Act. 2, two instances of three minutes in Act 3 and a very short
patch in Act 4" are noted.
Robert J Farr
See letter recieved from Richard
Caniell regarding the Guild Historical Series
Chorus and Orchestra of
the Metropolitan Opera, New York