The series of reissues of the Cetra complete sets from 
          the 1950s continues. The latest instalment is the second of the two 
          Aidas the company sent forth almost a half-century ago (the earlier 
          set, with Caterina Mancini and Mario Filippeschi - and crowned by Giulietta 
          Simionato's grand Amneris - was reissued two years ago {Warner Fonit 
          8573 83010-2}). The current resuscitation will undoubtedly find its 
          primary justification, for most collectors, in the Radames of the young 
          Franco Corelli. True he recorded the part again just ten years later 
          for EMI, and with as starry a line-up of artists as the 1960s could 
          provide. But this older Cetra performance comes to us in 2002 as the 
          first complete recording by a now legendary and well-loved artist. 
        
 
        
But it would be ungallant and, in fact, unjust, to 
          ignore the other singers in the production and, in particular, the ladies. 
          Mary Curtis-Verna of Salem, Massachusetts, USA is not an artist well-remembered 
          these days but she had a long and honorable career, first in Italy and 
          then for a decade at the New York Metropolitan (her other Cetra operas 
          include Un Ballo in Maschera, already amongst the Warner Fonit 
          reissues and, only just recently reissued, Don Giovanni, the 
          latter with a hair-raisingly unidiomatic and fascinating Elvira from 
          the great Adriana, Minnie, and Nedda of the series, Carla Gavazzi!). 
          Here, in her prime, she offers an idiomatic, sincere, and wholly committed 
          account of the tremendously challenging title role. Her voice, basically 
          attractive and warm, and certainly of sufficient size to fill the requirements 
          of the part, suffers to a degree from a certain sameness, even dullness 
          of timbre. You can hear her working to lighten and brighten the sound 
          at the top of her range; she's often successful but the effort is not 
          entirely concealed. Still, she's a fine artist who has all the notes 
          and all the style and today would be in great demand in important theatres. 
          She did not make many recordings (though they include an earlier Aida, 
          for the Remington label, which boasts Ettore Bastianini as Amonasro 
          and the tremendous Oralia Dominguez as Amneris - wouldn't we like to 
          see THAT on a CD, though I suspect that the original tapes are long-gone); 
          for older American listeners this recording will provide a welcome souvenir 
          of many evenings at the Met when she and Corelli were partnered in Adriana 
          Lecouvreur, Don Carlo and other operas. 
        
 
        
Miriam Pirazzini is a wonderful Amneris, rich and vibrant 
          in tone, feasting on the words, furiously imperious when required, and 
          capable vocally of all that the role requires save occasional momentary 
          strain in the very highest tessitura. Only belonging to a generation 
          that boasted Simionato, Barbieri, Cossotto, Dominguez, and Stignani 
          prevented her from achieving a more illustrious reputation. 
        
 
        
Gian Giacomo Guelfi had a huge instrument. On record 
          it sometimes comes over as rather lugubrious in quality but there is 
          no doubting his authority as Amonasro. Giulio Neri's black and cavernous 
          sound was invented for Ramfis and he suffers only in comparison to his 
          younger self in the earlier Cetra Aida mentioned above. 
        
 
        
And what of our star tenor? This is Corelli "prima 
          maniera," before he smoothed out somewhat the strong vibrancy in his 
          voice that was perhaps a result of his studies with Lauri-Volpi. Here 
          the high notes peal with "squillo" and the tenor takes care to repair 
          Verdi's too-parsimonious way with high notes by doubling all those of 
          Aida in the Triumphal scene! A typical, which is only to say 
          irresistible, Corelli performance! 
        
 
        
Questa provides unobtrusive and thoroughly stylish 
          conducting. The orchestra, in the manner of 1950s mono recording, is 
          a bit too much in the background (the better to revel in the voices, 
          I hear you say?) but never mind. The recording provides a window onto 
          an era when not too much trouble could assemble a cast like this for 
          Aida and it could be, and often was, taken for granted. No more: 
          it has been some time now since that was the case. 
        
 
        
The booklet offers an encomium to Corelli, some nice 
          pictures of the artists, and an Italian-only libretto. 
        
 
        
        
Calvin Goodwin