I have to admit it: I have never liked
Melba. My first contact with her voice
was in the early 1970s when I bought
an LP with McCormack, Tetrazzini and
Melba; the first two I at once took
to my heart but Melba gave me goose-pimples.
Whenever I have come across the Australian
diva, whether it be the aforementioned
record or the odd tracks I have acquired
accidentally on compilation records,
I have had the same uneasy feeling.
She scoops up to the notes (if she is
lucky to hit them – very often she is
well under), she has that hooting, even
howling sound, that I have sometimes
likened to a fog-horn in the Channel.
She has sloppy, careless phrasing –
but she has a good trill ... which doesn’t
compensate for all these defects. All
these years I have thought that it must
be my fault – her fame, being one of
the most venerated women of her age,
can’t possibly rest solely on Peach
Melba, which she probably didn’t ‘compose’
either. So when the latest list with
new releases appeared I begged for this
disc to see if I might be able to reassess
her ...
The first track, the
Aubade from Le Roi d’Ys, which
also was on that old LP, was just as
disheartening as before (see above).
Yes, "good trill" I wrote
again. Let’s hope for Tosca, then. But
no, Tosca was never her cup of tea,
and Vissi d’arte was lifeless
and hooty until the very end where she
revealed some feeling but marred it
through still more under-the-note singing.
Not wanting to give in this early I
hardened myself and listened to the
two Otello arias. Her lowest register
turned out to be more attractive than
the top, I thought, and the Ave Maria
had some fine phrasing, but greatness?
Nope! All right, she had been singing
for more than 25 years and was 49 when
she recorded this. Her greatness was
probably to be found before the advent
of the gramophone, I thought, while
she hooted along through Tosti’s Good-bye,
wishing to hear Schipa or Gigli instead.
But then, on track 6, I suddenly heard
a new, different voice: Landon Ronald’s
O Lovely Night revealed a more
vibrant voice, more beautiful, closer
to pitch, a greater warmth and none
of the fog-horn sound.
After a short rest,
I could enjoy Wetzger’s By the Brook,
well played by her regular concert
partner and manager John Lemmoné.
Whether Melba is the pianist is another
matter. It seems unlikely that she should
have travelled to the studios in Camden
just to set down a piano part.
After an interval of
three years we find her in the company
of one of the greatest instrumentalists
of the period, Czech-born violinist
Jan Kubelik, father of conductor Rafael
Kubelik, in two tracks, Mozart’s L’amerò
sarò costante and Bach/Gounod’s
Ave Maria. In the Mozart aria
Melba has her squally moments but her
trill is good and she blends well with
Kubelik in the cadenza. The primitive
recording can’t reproduce the violin
tone very convincingly; it’s thin and
wiry but obviously he was a sensitive
player and his portamento style, out
of fashion today, is something one gets
used to in the long violin solo in Ave
Maria. Melba creeps in very discreetly
at the end of his solo, sounding as
if an emanation of the violin. Apart
from some under-the-note singing this
is another example of the crystalline
tones she could produce at her best.
A handful of French
songs also show her as a restrained
and careful interpreter. Gabriel Lapierre
seems to be a stylish accompanist. Of
the two versions of Depuis le jour
from Louise, the unpublished take with
piano finds her more comfortable and
the end of the aria has real magic.
Foster’s Old Folks at Home has
a great deal of charm while Comin’
Thro’ the Rye is chopped up and
over-emphatic.
In the three takes
from January 1916, when she was already
55, it is interesting to note the purity
of tone and the much better intonation
compared to her efforts six years earlier.
After this traversal
of 21 tracks with the ageing Melba –
am I a reformed sinner, having finally
realized her greatness? Well, not completely.
On some of the tracks, especially those
from 1910, she is still awful to my
ears, but I am happy to have had the
opportunity to modify my opinion. There
is enough evidence here to explain the
impression she possibly gave in live
performances. Melba addicts, who missed
this disc in its first incarnation on
Romophone, should grab the opportunity:
Ward Marston’s transfers retain a healthy
amount of background noise to give the
voice as much bloom as possible, Peter
Dempsey’s essay is excellent and at
Naxos’s usual price even the non-addicted
could give it a try. They may have the
same positive experience as I had –
but skip the first tracks!
There are some peaches
of sopranos from this era I would still
rather listen to, but Melba has now
belatedly entered my list of respectable
singers.
Göran Forsling