Falstaff was
the culmination of Verdi’s long career
as an opera composer. He had really
believed his compositional days were
over after Aida. Nearly a decade
later, persuaded by his publisher, he
embarked on a rewriting of Simon
Boccanegra. This involved his working
with Arrigo Boito, an accomplished librettist
and also a composer; it was an association
Verdi relished. Premiered at La Scala
in March 1881 the revised Boccanegra,
unlike the 1857 original, was a triumph.
Even at the age of 68 his inner genius
was alive and well. Ricordi and Boito
subtly pointed Verdi towards Shakespeare’s
Otello. Shakespeare was a poet
revered by Verdi. Gently, via synopsis
and Boito’s verses, Otello was
written. It was a piece with significant
orchestral complexity and marked a major
compositional movement from Verdi, even
compared to the greatness within Aida
and Don Carlos, its immediate
predecessors. As Budden (The Operas
of Verdi. Vol. 3) puts it, In
common with all great tragedies Otello
harrows but at the same time uplifts.
It was premiered, again at La Scala,
six years after the revised Boccanegra.
Verdi was then 74 years of age and really
did think he had finished operatic composition.
But he had not allowed for Boito. Three
years after the premiere of Otello
Verdi wrote to a friend What
can I tell you? I’ve wanted to write
a comic opera for forty years, and I’ve
known ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’ for
fifty… however, the usual buts and I
don’t know if I will ever finish it…I
am enjoying myself. Boito’s vital
contribution in enabling Verdi to match
Shakespeare was in his capacity for
drawing out a taut libretto from the
plays concerned. Boito reduced Otello
by six-sevenths and in Falstaff
reduces the 23 characters in The
Merry Wives of Windsor to just ten
in the opera. The composer wrote Falstaff
for his own enjoyment whilst his
mind must, inevitably, have gone back
from time to time to his only other
comic opera, Il Giorno di Regno,
and its abject failure at its premiere
at La Scala in 1840. With Falstaff,
the outcome was all that Verdi could
have hoped. His ‘little enjoyment’ as
he called it was a triumph at its premiere
at La Scala on 9 February 1893. The
greatest Italian composer was 80 years
of age. It was a great culmination to
a great career.
Verdi’s orchestration
in Falstaff, with its final fugue,
represents challenges to even the best
of the conductors with a natural feel
for the Verdian melodic line and idiom.
None had this feel more than Arturo
Toscanini whose presence in the orchestra
of La Scala at the premiere of Verdi’s
penultimate opera, Otello, is
well documented. Many commentators,
who view them as definitive, constantly
refer to his series of live performances
of Verdi operas issued by RCA. That
of Falstaff in 1950 (74321 72372-2)
featured Giuseppe Valdengo in the name
part. Its issue blew the very worthwhile
1949 Cetra recording out of the water
in pro-Toscanini critics’ eyes. Featuring
the sappy and well-characterised Falstaff
of Taddei in an all-Italian cast under
Mario Rossi’s idiomatic, flexible and
sympathetic baton it did not have a
wide distribution. Its many virtues
can now be better assessed via the Warner
Fonit re-issue (8573 82652-2). To mount
a realistic challenge to the Toscanini
hegemony, producer Walter Legge sailed
in with a well-balanced cast for his
label. This is the issue under review.
It first saw the light of day in mono
in 1957. The sonics of the original
mono recording, made in London in that
most sympathetic venues, Kingsway Hall,
and with Christopher Parker in charge,
made an immediate impact. Rumours began
to circulate as to a stereo set-up having
been present at the recording sessions
and in 1961 a stereo version was issued.
Why the delay? I do not know if there
were technical reasons in respect of
pressing the then new groove patterns
in the LPs necessary for stereo. From
personal experience I do know that even
with first class stylus and arm, heavily
modulated passages could cause problems.
I had hassle at the time with the last
scene on a Decca stereo issue of highlights
of its Ballo in Maschera. Neither
retailers nor record company could resolve
the issue. On this recording Parker
does facilitate Karajan’s very wide
orchestral dynamic and which may have
posed pressing problems in the early
stereo days.
It was not only Karajan’s
variation of dynamic and the mellifluous
orchestral sound that was greatly admired
in this recording, but also his grasp
of the humour, comic drama and moments
of bitter irony. In this he was aided
by Tito Gobbi’s interpretation of the
title role. Although it was argued,
and after innumerable further recordings
of the work it still is, that Gobbi
does not have the ideal ripeness, fruity
sap if you like, for the role. Maybe,
but he lives and portrays the facets
of Falstaff’s character and every nuance
of the words as no other interpreter
has done since. Equally important, he
reacts to and plays off his colleagues
in a manner that is unequalled in any
other recorded performance. This is
vividly heard in his initial welcoming
of Mistress Quickly on her bringing
response to his letters to the wives
(CD1 tr.14) and his different tone and
characterisation when she returns, after
his experience of being tipped from
the laundry basket into the Thames,
and tempts Falstaff the Herne’s Oak
to (CD2. 13-14). Very evident also are
the subtle differences in Gobbi’s vocal
bravado in Falstaff’s honour monologue
(CD1 tr.4) and his singing as he calls
for wine after Falstaff’s dipping as
he praises his paunch and the lack of
honour such as his elsewhere. As characterisations
go, Gobbi’s Falstaff is matched in every
respect by Fedora Barbieri’s Quickly.
No question about vocal colour here,
her fruity contralto tones are as to
the manner born; an outstanding interpretation.
If none of the other singers quite come
up to the standards of Gobbi and Barbieri,
there is barely a weak link. Luigi Alva’s
Fenton is light-toned and beautifully
phrased. Anna Moffo, in one of her first
recordings, has an ethereal middle voice
that comes into its own in the final
scene (CD2 trs.17-26) although there
is a touch of unsteadiness at the very
top of her voice. Elisabeth Schwarzkopf
is a little arch as Mistress Ford whilst
Rolando Panerai as her husband is strong-voiced
in a role that suits him well (CD1 trs.14-20).
Nan Merriman is a good Meg whilst Renato
Ercolani and Nicola Zaccaria are excellent
as Falstaff’s two-faced cronies.
This recording was
excellently remastered in 1999 for issue
in EMI’s Great Recordings of the
Century series (7243 5 67083-2).
This bargain-priced version follows
the same disc and track layout. That
is my only criticism. Opportunity should
have been taken to put all of acts 1
and 2 on CD1. There is a track-listing
and the same essay and excellent track-related
synopsis as on the GROC issue which
has a full libretto and translations
lacking here. At bargain price this
excellent recording and performance
should join the shelves of any Verdi
collection from which it is currently
absent.
Robert J Farr
see also review
by Christopher Fifield
Philharmonia Orchestra and Chorus/Herbert von
Karajan 
