Lucia Popp was forty-three 
                when she gave this recital, a co-production 
                with Bavarian Radio. It shows her in 
                marvellous voice in her early maturity, 
                one that was to be so cruelly cut short 
                a decade later with her premature death. 
                The repertoire covers a cross-section 
                of her roles and demonstrates uncommon 
                linguistic and stylistic affinities. 
                She has the very competent support here 
                of the Münchner Rundfunkorchester 
                under Kurt Eichhorn and a straightforward 
                and unproblematic recording. 
              
One can hear, from 
                the floated high notes in Die Zauberflöte, 
                that her mechanism was in fine repair. 
                This was always something of a wonder 
                of Popp’s singing – and it never sounded 
                like mere artifice or conceit – and 
                was always at the service of the expressive 
                and interior meaning of the text, as 
                here. Her control of colour and intimacy 
                of shading are exemplary in this aria 
                – and note that she is now a Pamina 
                and not, as in her youth, Queen of the 
                Night. Technically what is so impressive 
                is, inter alia, control of dynamics 
                when going up; she maintains scrupulous 
                dynamic gradients and seldom forces 
                the voice. And there is quite enough 
                power at the climaxes as well – both 
                features that illuminate the Weber. 
                It’s exciting to hear her Goetz as I 
                wasn’t aware she had sung any. It’s 
                as one would expect: carried off with 
                idiomatic mastery and with just a hint 
                of the soubrette still in the voice. 
              
Often in a mixed recital 
                such as this there are points of relative 
                weakness; a certain unfamiliarity with 
                language or a rather generic approach. 
                One never feels that with Popp. Maybe 
                the Italian arias, though beautifully 
                sung, are a mite reserved but it’s really 
                only a matter of degree, a question 
                of approach. Her French arias certainly 
                seem to me impressive documents of her 
                art and if one might perhaps have hoped 
                for rarer repertoire then at least we 
                get them beautifully sung. We end with 
                her native repertoire – a really fine 
                Smetana and one of her warhorses, Mesícku 
                na nebi hlubokémt (O Silver Moon), 
                from Rusalka. Popular though it is, 
                too many sopranos come to grief over 
                it, getting squally and unfocusedly 
                torrid. Popp stays on the right side. 
              
This is very much a 
                tribute to Popp – there are no texts 
                and little other documentation. But 
                I don’t really think it matters. This 
                is most assuredly for her many admirers 
                and they will find all her many virtues 
                here, undimmed and untainted by time. 
              
Jonathan Woolf