When these songs 
                      and arias were recorded Tito Schipa was around 35 years 
                      old and at the height of his powers. Not that he ever had 
                      a very powerful voice; his was a lyric tenor with none of 
                      the brilliance of, say, Gigli and not a very wide range 
                      either. He didn’t reach high C very often. But he was the 
                      most aristocratic tenor of his, or any time; always elegant, 
                      always tasteful, with fluent runs, no intrusive Hs and never 
                      condescending to the lachrymose tone and the sobs that were 
                      part and parcel of Gigli’s style. He also excelled in the 
                      most perfect diminuendos and pianissimos and his rubatos 
                      - an art that seems more or less extinct nowadays - were 
                      so perfectly judged that one often can’t imagine a certain 
                      song being sung in any other way. The Creole song Ay, 
                      Ay, Ay (track 4) is a perfect example. This song, like 
                      almost half the numbers on the disc, is sung in Spanish, 
                      Schipa obviously having an affection for Iberian music. 
                      His own composition, A Cuba (track 22) is also set 
                      to a Spanish text and is very Spanish in character and it 
                      seems that he has a natural feeling for the Spanish rhythms. 
                      The originals are of course late acoustical recordings, 
                      but his voice is reproduced with astounding clarity and 
                      presence, and maybe, as has sometimes been stated, this 
                      recording technique was perhaps superior when it came to 
                      representing the human voice. The orchestral sound is still 
                      rather primitive, and there the electrical process, introduced 
                      just a year later, was a great leap forward. Anyway Ward 
                      Marston’s restorational work has once again resulted in 
                      sound that could be appreciated not only by die-hard historical 
                      freaks but also by general lovers of great singing. There 
                      are some plops and clicks and all the mechanical background 
                      noise from the old shellacs has not been eliminated, but 
                      so immediate is the reproduction of Schipa’s voice, and 
                      so agreable is his singing that one soon forgets it. When 
                      the electrical process was launched many of these numbers 
                      were re-recorded and they are also the most well-known and 
                      most often reissued but, as Alan Blyth states in his comments, 
                      these earlier efforts probably catch Schipa at his very 
                      best.
                    And which are 
                      the highlights? The answer is simple: all of them! There 
                      is not one number here that doesn’t show Schipa’s mastery. 
                      Take Arlecchino’s Serenade (track 2) for instance: has it 
                      ever been more seductively sung? Take the Manon aria (track 
                      5), sung in Italian but that is about the only objection 
                      one can have. Quiéreme mucho (track 8) by the (to 
                      me at least) unknown Roig, turns out to be a lovely song 
                      and Ponce’s A la orilla de un palmar (track 9) has 
                      a final diminuendo that makes one go into a trance. The 
                      two Rossini arias are of course exemplary, especially the 
                      Serenade (track 13) where Schipa also provides his own guitar 
                      accompaniment. The final diminuendo could be a lesson to 
                      any modern singer, and the two arias from Mignon – again 
                      sung in Italian – have probably never been challenged, unless 
                      it be Leopold Simoneau on his DG recordings from the 1950s. 
                    
                    The three duets 
                      with Galli-Curci, the leading coloratura soprano of the 
                      period, are instructive. In the Sonnambula excerpt Schipa 
                      colours his voice and caresses the phrases while Galli-Curci 
                      is more monochrome and sounds only mildly interested, but 
                      of course she is technically utterly secure and her voice 
                      has that bell-like clarity that was her hall-mark. The same 
                      goes for Un di felice eterea from the first act of 
                      La traviata where Schipa is audibly in love with Violetta, 
                      while Galli-Curci is a rather cold and impersonal canary, 
                      just twittering her notes. In the last act duet Schipa is 
                      just as caring and caressing and here it seems that the 
                      soprano is more inside the role and has realized Violetta’s 
                      predicament. 
                    There is full 
                      documentation in the insert and with generous playing time 
                      this issue can be strongly recommended. There isn’t much 
                      better – and tasteful - tenor singing anywhere in recorded 
                      history!
                    Göran Forsling
                    see also Review 
                      by Jonathan Woolf