In my review, elsewhere 
                on this site, of the latest studio 
                recording of this opera (EMI and featuring 
                Alagna, Gheorghiu etc.) I took mild 
                issue with Caruso’s claim that all that 
                was needed for this opera was ‘the four 
                greatest singers in the world’. My point 
                being as to the number, as I believe 
                that the part of Ferrando, sung here 
                by the Greek-born Nicola Moscana, is 
                as important as the other four principals, 
                a point also made by Tully Potter in 
                his sleeve note. Given the vocal demands 
                on the soloists it is no great surprise 
                that in only one post-Second World War 
                recording of the work, that under Serafin 
                on DG, are all from one country, in 
                that case Italy. In the EMI recording 
                there is a Franco-Italian tenor, a Romanian 
                soprano, an American baritone, a Russian 
                mezzo and an Italian bass. This cast 
                is equally polyglot but there is the 
                subtle difference, all were used to 
                singing their role on stage, under the 
                same conductor as here, at the New York 
                ‘Met’ during this period and were fully 
                immersed in their parts. 
              
 
              
 In this very strong 
                cast I must start by focusing on the 
                male and female leads. The Manrico of 
                the Swede Jussi Björling is sung 
                with elegant and beautiful lyric tenor 
                tone, and characteristic taste in phrasing, 
                whilst having plenty of heft for the 
                dramatic outbursts. His only rival on 
                disc in the totality of these vocal 
                virtues is Carlo Bergonzi on the DG 
                issue. Björling is by turn ardent 
                in his song to Leonora (CD 1 tr. 8), 
                loving and concerned towards the gypsy 
                he believes to be his mother (CD 1 trs. 
                14-16) and suitably heroic in ‘Ah, si 
                ben mio’ and ‘Di quella pira’ (CD 2 
                trs 6-7). As his lover, Leonora, the 
                Croatian Zinka Milanov gives as near 
                an ideal interpretation, a slight sketchiness 
                in coloratura apart, as one could wish 
                for. Its strengths lie in the manner 
                of the approach to notes, the support 
                of the voice in legato (CD 1 tr 5), 
                with long arching phrases and subtle 
                vibrato all aiding creation of the character, 
                by vocal means alone. In this latter 
                respect she is matched by the Italian 
                Fedora Barbieri as Azucena. One of a 
                line of great Italian mezzos, no longer 
                extant, who had this music in their 
                blood, her ‘stride la vampa’, with unforced 
                resonant chest notes (CD 1 tr. 11), 
                moves easily and swiftly (tr. 12) to 
                a more lyric, but still dramatic tone, 
                expressing the gypsy’s changing mood 
                in a most impressive way. This is also 
                true of her performance in the last 
                scene (CD 2 trs. 14-17), including a 
                formidably impressive ‘Ai nostri monti’ 
                and later in the concluding declamatory 
                passage as she tells the Count that 
                he has just killed his own brother. 
                If the two lower male singers are not 
                quite of the standard of the other principals, 
                it is merely that the great is the ultimate 
                enemy of the good, or, as here, very 
                good. As the Count, the American baritone 
                Leonard Warren is lyrical in timbre, 
                but there are times when he is a little 
                strained by the tessitura and when I 
                wished he would field more weight and 
                colour to his tone, as in ‘Il balen’ 
                (CD 1 tr. 18). I would have appreciated 
                more sap in Moscana’s steady and expressive 
                voice as Ferrando. Neither singer is 
                a weak link in the recording nor is 
                the under-rated conductor, Renato Cellini, 
                who gives a well paced and phrased performance. 
                Inevitably, given the date of the recording 
                and before completeness became ‘de rigueur’, 
                there are ‘theatre cuts’ as was the 
                practice at the ‘Met’ in that period. 
                There are no second verses or cabalettas 
                and at a total timing for the opera 
                of around 116 minutes, it is 10 minutes 
                less than the ‘cut’ Serafin (DG), whilst 
                the Domingo and Leontyne Price, under 
                Mehta, the best ‘complete’ recording 
                (RCA), runs to 136 minutes. 
              
 
              
There is a bonus filler 
                of 18 minutes of Milanov singing six 
                Yugoslav songs; her first recordings, 
                made in 1944. These are of no compositional 
                distinction but do allow us to hear 
                the great soprano in another oeuvre. 
                However, compared to the Trovatore the 
                recordings are lacking in depth and 
                presence. Mark Obert- Thorn’s remastering 
                of the Trovatore is excellent with clarity, 
                warmth and presence being the relevant 
                adjectives; the voices are forward and 
                the orchestra well balanced in an open 
                airy acoustic. The results are excellent 
                even in mono. 
              
 
              
This outstanding recording, 
                superbly restored, represents the regular 
                fare on offer at the ‘Met’ in the early 
                post Second World War period. Verdi 
                singing of this calibre is no longer 
                to be heard anywhere in the world and 
                the performance deserves to be in the 
                collection of any Verdi enthusiast or 
                lover of great singing. Its modest price 
                is an added bonus for both the affluent 
                and the impecunious. 
              
Robert J Farr 
                 
              
see also 
                review by Tony Haywood