These songs may not
be widely known, but singers are usually
well-acquainted with them. In Italian
conservatoires at least, the slim little
Ricordi volume of 16 of them – all included
here, though a few variants make me
wonder if this is actually the edition
being used – is good fodder for budding
young students who aren’t ready yet
to tackle full-scale Verdi arias. The
style is unmistakeably Verdian and they
sound like real operatic arias
(not least because the piano part usually
sounds as if it has been transcribed
from an orchestral score), but their
vocal range and demands are generally
smaller, though the high trills in "Lo
spazzacamino" seem like an entrance
exam for a high-lying role like Oscar.
But then the singers
grow up and, like so many of the books
we read at school, they remember the
songs with affection but don’t sing
them any more. The growing-up process,
too, if they become fully-fledged opera
singers, will have brought in its train
a whole series of habits that sound
ill-at-ease in this context. They will
have developed a heavy vibrato, they
will have learnt to swoop from note
to note, they will have learnt to slide
into the note from below, they will
have learnt to hold a long note and
fine it away, or else make it grow and
grow. They will have learnt to act with
their voices.
But if they go back
to these songs they may find themselves
like fish out of water for, though the
name at the top is Verdi’s, these intimate
and mainly youthful compositions respond
best to a Bellinian purity of line.
Norah Amsellen, however, appears not
to agree, and has elected to apply the
whole operatic bag of tricks to them.
Let us see what this actually means.
In the simple yet touching melody which
opens "La seduzione", she
emphasizes the word "bella"
by scooping into the note from below,
she does something similar with "cielo",
she spins a pianissimo high note at
"innocente" (this is possible
because the song is sung a tone higher
than in the Ricordi edition), and she
again slides into "fiore"
from below. Indeed, we may fairly say
that there is scarcely a long note from
the beginning to the end of this recital
that is not slid into from below.
At "inesperta" she speeds
up considerably, which may not have
been necessary if she had begun at the
marked "andantino" rather
than "andante lugubre"; over
the page Verdi marks "un poco più
mosso", so he would have marked
it here, too, if he had wanted it. Then
at "Fu sedotta" she gives
the low D a blast of Callas-like chest
tone.
Now these are all things
that are accepted in opera, though whether
they should be or not is another matter;
since Amsellen has sung Violetta in
Madrid, Berlin and at Covent Garden
and Gilda in Seattle (just to list the
Verdian roles in her CV), people obviously
do accept them. Furthermore, there are
positive sides too. She has a very beautiful
voice, unscratched by operatic wear
and tear and with an always easy emission
even if the vibrato on high is a bit
marked (is there really any difference
between the trills on the high A in
"Lo spazzacimino" and the
vibrato on the A that follows?). Her
breath control is amazing; having worked
at several of these songs with singers,
I noted any number of long phrases which,
for most singers, come into the "it-would-be-nice-to-do-it-in-one-breath-if-one-could"
category. Though I don’t always like
what she is doing, she does it with
command and personality (except the
"Brindisi" which is rather
staid for some reason). While this is
not how I would wish to hear these songs
interpreted, others might feel it brings
them to life, makes them sound like
real full-sized Verdi. You’d better
try to work out from my description
which category you are likely to be
in.
I had better say that
I listened the first time without a
score and was considerably perplexed
by all these operatic tricks. At later
hearings, with the score in front of
me, I appreciated rather more the expressive
intentions. Thinking about why this
should be, I concluded that ultimately
the operatic tricks disturb the line.
When I had the score open, I could see
the line and was perhaps more ready
to accept expressive bulges and slides.
But, since the average listener doesn’t
have the score, does this not demonstrate
that the singer’s first duty is to the
line, and any added expressive devices
are counter-productive if they do not
enhance the line or at the very least,
do not disturb it? I suggest this very
gifted singer should listen carefully,
as if with another person’s ears (no
easy matter for a performer), and ask
herself at every point, "is the
line coming across to me?"
In keeping with the
prima donna-ish concept, the piano is
recorded at a discreet distance, though
it is very well played. Full texts and
translations into English and French
are provided, and the very thorough
booklet essay presents the songs in
a sensible chronological order which
is not followed on the disc.
Christopher Howell