In his absorbing book, Classical
Music in America. A History of its Rise
and Fall (New York 2005) pp. 368-9,
Joseph Horowitz is loud in his praise
of this performance of Otello.
He opines that it "documents the
interwar Met at its finest." He
is warm in his praise of the three principals
and, indeed, of the contribution of
the Met’s orchestra and of conductor
Ettore Panizza. By coincidence, within
a few weeks of reading that book I found
that Naxos had obligingly issued the
selfsame recording so I had to sample
it for myself. Suffice to say that Mr.
Horowitz has not overstated his case.
My colleague, Göran
Forsling, has already discussed the
origins of the source material for these
transfers review.
Ward Marston has done his usual sterling
job in preparing the transfers for Naxos
although, as he makes clear in a liner
note, a vast amount of remedial work
was required. Even then, there is surface
noise throughout the recording and on
occasion, as at the start of Act Four,
the intrusion becomes significant. However,
this is one of those occasions where
the sheer quality and thrill of the
music making compels one to listen
through the crackles and hisses and
hear what is truly a remarkable performance
of Verdi’s tragic masterpiece.
To preserve the integrity
of the recording the radio announcements
at the very beginning and at the end
of each of the first three acts have
been retained. I don’t see what else
could have been done but the announcer’s
comments are lengthy and somewhat intrusive
and I suspect that many listeners will
do as I did and skip them. That’s a
very minor matter. It’s the music that
counts.
I could give umpteen
examples of the excellence of each of
the three principal singers. Let one
or two suffice in respect of each. Firstly
Lawrence Tibbett. I wonder if there’s
ever been a more sinister and malevolent
yet plausible Iago? In Act Two ‘Credo
in un Dio crudel’ is a riveting piece
of vocal malevolence. Tibbett’s is a
truly malign presence at this point
and he conveys to me a self-knowing
that is quite terrifying. It’s a staggering
piece of singing; he projects venom!
Just a little later in the same act
‘Temerte, signor, la gelosia!’ is quite
chillingly two-faced. Throughout the
opera whenever Tibbett sings he commands
attention – and fear!
Iago’s victim, Otello,
is magnificently portrayed by Giovanni
Martinelli. At his first appearance
the great cry, ‘Esultate’ is heard somewhat
distantly. (I imagine he was at the
back of the stage and the microphone
struggled to catch his voice.) Yet even
at a distance you can tell that the
voice is ringing out superbly. What
must it have been like in the theatre
that night? Martinelli’s voice possesses
a thrilling, easy top but in the lower
register there’s a baritonal richness
that is just right for this role. (It’s
one of several reasons why I happen
to think Placido Domingo is suited for
this role and Luciano Pavarotti is not.)
This characteristic is heard to good
effect in such passages as ‘ Già
nella notte densa’ in Act One. The whole
reunion scene with Desdemona that follows
displays a spellbinding chemistry between
Martinelli and Rethberg and although
he has ample vocal power Martinelli
can still sing with great tenderness,
as he demonstrates at ‘un baccio’ towards
the end of this marvellous scene.
Later on, when Iago
has begun to weave his web of deception
ever more tightly around the Moor, Martinelli
again rises to every challenge that
Verdi sets him. In Act Two he produces
some incandescent singing in the passage
beginning at ‘Tu?! Indietrio! Fugi!’
As Otello’s suspicions and rage towards
Desdemona mount Martinelli tightens
the emotional screw not just to breaking
point but beyond. His is an utterly
compelling portrayal and even though
we lack a visual element he puts across
the torment and the tragedy of his character
by sheer vocal presence. The encounters
with Desdemona, especially the one in
Act Three, are absolutely riveting.
And it must not be
thought that Martinelli steals the show
for Elizabeth Rethberg gives a wonderful
performance as his doomed wife. She
contributes as a magnificent equal to
the Act Three duet, to which I’ve just
referred. Here the singers really strike
sparks off each other. Although the
surface noise is disappointingly intrusive
at the start of Act Four it can’t detract
from the touching pathos with which
Rethberg delivers the Willow Song. She
then conveys Desdemona’s vulnerability
even more powerfully in the Ave Maria.
The final bedchamber confrontation with
Otello is searingly intense, both singers
pulling out all the stops.
The magnificent portrayals
offered by these three great singers
constitute the prime reason why all
Verdians will want to acquire this set.
However, I don’t believe there’s a weak
link in the cast. The recording is not
especially kind either to the chorus
or to the orchestra but all seem to
rise to the occasion with enormous commitment.
The whole performance benefits hugely
from the dynamic, dramatic and wholly
idiomatic conducting of Ettore Panizza.
The dramatic thrust of his conducting
makes the performance a real event from
start to finish.
There’s no libretto,
though as usual Naxos provide a useful
synopsis and informative notes. One
can’t deny the sonic limitations of
this pair of CDs but that can’t stand
in the way of a recommendation for this
is a magnificent, electrifying and incandescent
performance, caught on the wing. In
any case, I would think that most people
buying this set will buy it to supplement
a studio recording. This can’t be a
first choice version of Otello
but it’s a legendary performance that
is essential listening for all lovers
of Verdi’s music and for all who relish
a head-on theatrical experience.
John Quinn
See also review
by Göran Forsling
Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera,
New York/Ettore Panizza 
