"The style of
this score is lively, and brilliant.
The shading from buffo to seria takes
place with surprising graduations and
the emotions are handled with musical
passion ... The orchestration is always
brilliant and appropriate to the situation;
it reveals a great master at work, accompanying
a vocal line now lively, now brilliant,
now impassioned. To praise the composer
lavishly would be unfair to the opera;
his work does not need exaggerated compliments."
No, these words are
not mine; they were written by the Italian
critic Francesco Pezzi in "La Gazzetta
Privilegiata di Milano" after the
première of L’Elisir d’amore
at the Teatro della Canobbiana,
Milan, on 12 May 1832. The composer
himself was a bit embarrassed and thought
that La Gazzetta "writes too many
wonderful things about my L’Elisir,
too many, believe me ... too many!"
I would endorse every syllable of what
Pezzi wrote, but Donizetti probably
wasn’t as yet used to such superlatives.
He was 34 and had already written forty
operas, but his real break-through came
only two years before L’Elisir
with Anna Bolena. There followed
a great number of other operas, including
masterpieces like Lucia di Lammermoor
and Don Pasquale, but not
even those two have quite the fresh-as-dew
approach as this rustic little tale.
It seems that every melodic idea was
borne out of the specific situation,
just flowing from his pen and catching
the characters spot-on. There is nothing
calculated here – or so it seems. Yes,
Francesco Pezzi was right and time has
shown that he has continued to be so.
Besides the Mozart comedies, a couple
of Rossini operas, Don Pasquale
and Verdi’s Falstaff very little
in this genre remains in the standard
repertoire.
L’Elisir d’amore
has been fairly covered on
record. Cetra recorded it with Noni,
Valletti and Bruscantini 55 years ago,
Decca did it in the mid-fifties with
Güden, Di Stefano and Corena (an
old favourite of mine), EMI had a set
with the young Freni, Gedda and Cappecchi.
The partnership of Bonynge, Sutherland
and Pavarotti produced a fine set around
1970, then there was the present CBS
recording. DG have recently reissued
a set from the eighties with Barbara
Bonney in one of her earliest recordings,
Gösta Winbergh and Rolando Panerai.
Pavarotti re-recorded it on DG with
Battle and Enzo Dara. There was an Erato
recording that I haven’t heard and which
at the moment seems to have been deleted,
with Devia, Alagna and Bruno Pratico.
Finally the Decca set with Gheorghiu,
Alagna (again) and Simone Alaimo, which
also, surprisingly, seems to have disappeared.
There are a few others as well and most
of them have good things to offer. On
balance I would still give my vote to
the present recording, which I bought
in the original LP version and have
derived a lot of pleasure from. Returning
to it now in this new transfer was like
a reunion with a very good old friend
and in fact I could find very little
to carp at.
Based on a highly successful
Covent Garden production it was recorded
in studio but with such liveliness and
enthusiasm that it very often feels
like a live recording. One reason might
be that the chorus contributes with
laughter, applause and sundry crowd
noises whenever they get an opportunity,
which among certain critics is strongly
disliked. Here it feels in tune with
the performance and probably in line
with the stage production, which I unfortunately
never saw. Another important factor
is John Pritchard. He leads the performance
with lightness and elegance and a fearful
drive, when appropriate. The first act
finale literally fizzes with life and
the whole opera is so imbued with high
spirits that one forgets that it is,
to be honest, a fairly plain story.
With the chorus and orchestra greatly
enjoying themselves and a cast that
live their parts this is a recording
to treasure.
Lillian Watson sings
Giannetta’s little part with her customary
elegance and bright tones. Ingvar Wixell
in one of his best recordings, is an
ebullient Belcore. Like many other great
singers he was even better when also
seen, but here his stage presence is
strongly felt without the visual impression.
He caresses and cajoles in his entrance
aria and sings with fine legato, his
quick vibrato so characteristic. Sir
Geraint Evans was of course one of the
great buffo and character singers during
the sixties and seventies. His Figaro
and Falstaff are rightly famous and
Dulcamara was a part well suited to
him. Ideally he should also have been
seen as well as heard, but even as a
sonic experience his entrance aria is
something to cherish. It is true that
his voice had lost some of its bloom,
being rather dry and with more than
a hint of a beat on sustained notes,
but his way with the text, every consonant
crystal clear, and his vocal inflexions,
makes this a very vivid portrait. The
larger-than-life Fernando Corena on
the old Decca, more sonorous and textually
even more pointed, has long been a favourite
but Evans runs him close.
I know that the voice
of Ileana Cotrubas, sharp, perky and
with a slightly smoky character, is
not to all listeners’ taste. However
I have always liked her singing and
to me she is an ideal Adina. Her
entrance aria, about the cruel Isolde
who gave Tristan that love potion, and
which is the literary background to
this opera, is charmingly sung. In the
duet with Nemorino she glitters enticingly
at Per guarir di tal pazzia (CD
1 track 9). Her second act duet with
Dulcamara is also a charmer (CD 2 track
2).
Placido Domingo sings
Nemorino and he does it exquisitely
in his most honeyed voice. This he can
fine down, but not always enough. He
can’t quite hide that at this stage
of his career he was already contemplating
Otello. Still this great singer never
does anything unmusical and he strews
his gold on every phrase. In the duet
with Adina (CD 1 tracks 8 & 9) he
lightens the voice admirably and his
first meeting with Dulcamara is a tour
de force, even though he can’t wholly
erase the memory of Di Stefano on the
old Decca set. Domingo was the one member
of the cast who didn’t sing at Covent
Garden. That may account for the fact
his voice coveys less of a sense of
integration than the others. If I am
not mistaken Carreras was the tenor
at the Royal Opera House but for contractual
reasons he couldn’t record the part
for CBS.
The sound was always
realistic. It has a certain outdoor
feeling which can also be heard on the
old LPs. The sound on this CD transfer
further enhances the experience of a
great performance. No texts are supplied
but on CD 2 one can get access to the
libretto in four languages when inserted
in the computer’s CD-ROM Drive. I tried
and got parts of the first page of the
libretto but could not get any further.
Maybe I wasn’t technically clever enough
but it was comforting to read on the
sleeve "This CD Extra may not work
in all computers". Not in mine,
obviously. For me it didn’t matter much
since I have the old LP booklet with
large print and a good essay by Stelios
Galatopoulos, from which I culled Francesco
Pezzo’s words with which I started the
review.
This is still my preferred
L’Elisir d’amore on CD and it
can be safely recommended to newcomers
and old-timers alike. Whichever category
you belong to you should have a recording
of this delightful opera – why not this
one?
Göran Forsling
Orchestra and Chorus of the Royal Opera House,
Covent Garden/John Pritchard 
