John McCormack (1884-1945)
won the gold medal in a Dublin music
festival in 1903. The win changed his
career and life’s direction. Local support
enabled him to study in Milan, his only
sustained period of vocal training.
In 1906 he was deemed ready for his
operatic debut. This was in Mascagni’s
L’Amico Fritz in Savonna, a small
town in the gulf of Genoa. The following
year he debuted at Covent Garden in
the much heavier role of Turridu in
Cavalleria Rusticana. This was
quickly followed by more appropriate
tenor leads in La Sonnambula, Rigoletto,
Lakmé and Lucia. McCormack’s
attempts to build a career in Italy
were less successful and he had to admit
that he didn’t have the weight of voice
that Italian audiences liked. America
was more discerning and his Met debut
in November was as Alfredo to Tetrazzini’s
Violetta. This was at the diva’s specific
request having sung Lucia and Lakmé
with him at Covent Garden.
New York with its immigrant
Irish population was ideal for McCormack
as a singer of ballad song. He maintained
the dual life of opera singer and recitalist
only until 1913. He recognised his limitations
as an actor and that he lacked the strength
of voice for a long stage career. Despite
this relatively brief period on the
operatic stage he had a repertoire of
21 roles. On this CD his elegant phrasing,
breath control and limpid tone are heard
to good effect in Una furtiva lagrima
(tr. 7) and the Delibes (tr. 10)
where his pianissimo and diminuendo
are great strengths. The singer’s limitations
in terms of vocal strength can be heard
in the ever-popular Che gelida manina
from La Boheme (tr. 6), expressive
though his singing is. Nor is he a match
for Gigli in Tu che a Dio from
Lucia (tr. 2) as can be heard
on Volume
5 of the Naxos Gigli series .
The great strengths
that made McCormack revered on the concert
platform and as a recording artist were
his clear diction and ability to speak
to the heart as well as the ears of
the listener. Typical is his aria from
Faust (tr. 12) which transcends
the translation to Italian, albeit the
high note is squeezed somewhat. It was
McCormack’s ability to communicate with
the listener that laid the foundations
of a recital career that lasted until
1938. His signature song I Hear You
Calling Me is very typical of his
range of expression and ability to float
a phrase on the breath.
Always aware of his
American buying public McCormack was
liberal in his recording of Irish tunes.
In his extended and informed sleeve
note, John Scarry tells how Fred Gaisberg,
at Victor’s affiliate HMV, refused to
join the American company in buying
out McCormack’s Odeon label contract.
The singer carried a grudge against
Gaisberg on that account and would insult
him at every opportunity. Meanwhile
HMV had ample opportunity to regret
this error of judgement as McCormack
went on to become a best selling artist.
One year he even outsold Caruso no less.
Restoration engineer
Ward Marston has worked wonders in bringing
out the tone and clarity of McCormack’s
voice. There is the odd example of thin
string tone in the accompanying orchestra
but the overall result is even better
than Marston achieved for the Caruso
series for Naxos. Those who know McCormack
and his singing will welcome and enjoy
these transfers that transcend the earlier
Romophone issues. For those who do not
know the voice, I strongly recommend
the modest outlay and enjoy what many
have long known and can now glory in
anew.
Robert J Farr
see also review
by Jonathan Woolf