This most beautiful of song-cycles has been unusually fortunate
on disc. It’s not really a song-cycle as such, given that the
compilation of poems set to music is random in nature and the
fact that it narrates no story other than delineating in general
attitudes to love and loss. I rank some half a dozen versions
amongst my favourite Berlioz listening; reactions to this one
will largely depend upon whether you like a big, smoky, “grande
dame” of a voice like that of Leontyne Price giving the songs
the operatic treatment. I do; furthermore I shall annoy some
collectors by saying straightaway that while I love versions
by Janet Baker, Kiri Te Kanawa, Jessye Norman, Eleanor Steber
and Victoria de Los Angeles, I cannot live with Crespin’s famous
account, which I find scratchily vocalised and too imperiously
detached in interpretation. I know I am not alone in this; the
eminent voice critic David Cairns in “Song on Record” expresses
similar bewilderment that Crespin’s 1963 recording with Ernest
Ansermet and L'Orchestre de la Suisse Romande is so widely
admired. Nor do I have time for bland, detached versions by
Von Otter and Bernarda Fink or that by Véronique Gens, whose
voice is too light. David Daniels’ counter-tenor version is
very fine in its way; hors concours in that it remains
a curiosity, hardly a “best recording” but self-recommending
to his fans and those for whom his voice type in this music
is no obstacle. There are still others which have been praised,
such as José van Dam’s unusual baritone version, but essentially
one makes a choice between a set sung by four singers in the
original keys, or transpositions for either mezzo or soprano.
My preference is for the unity conferred by one singer and for
a warm, vibrant, “Romantic” style of female voice, either mezzo
or soprano. I shy away from the cooler, lighter voiced interpreters,
but I am aware that others hold tastes diametrically opposed
to mine. I would place Price very high indeed in my ranking.
“Gramophone” critic Andrew Porter was uncomplimentary about
this release, preferring Crespin, but this is consistent with
the stance of that venerable organ. For what it’s worth, this
1964 recording (coupled with “El Amor Brujo”) by Price and Fritz
Reiner with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra won a Grammy the
following year but seems to have dropped out of the running
since. No version is perfect: Baker makes both textual and musical
slips in her celebrated Barbirolli version (for example “faîtes”
for “fait”, and coming in a beat early in “Au cimetière”). Some
find her just a little arch in the two lighter, outer songs,
but hers remains the gold standard recording for most listeners
and I am not inclined to argue. I find Te Kanawa’s version with
Barenboim to be hugely under-rated. The usual lazy accusation
that she is all lovely, luminous beauty of tone but expressionless
simply does not stand up to an unbiased listening: she and Barenboim
get just the right combination of tempo and phrasing to ensure
the requisite lightness and insouciance in the notoriously tricky
“Villanelle”. She deploys a rich lower register (which was not
always present, but she worked hard at it), taking the low F-sharp
option on “linceul” in “Sur les lagunes”. She really lives the
anguish of “Absence” and assumes a wonderfully apt “child-voice”
in “Au cimetière”. I have spent a little time adumbrating the
virtues of Te Kanawa’s account because in many ways hers is
vocally and interpretatively similar to Price’s. If you like
one you will probably like the other, despite the individuality
of their voices. Others do it differently: Frederica Von Stade
is uniquely plaintive, Jessye Norman grand, Eleanor Steber vibrant,
Victoria de los Angles poignant; there is room for all those
great dames. None of the versions which share the songs among
two, three or four singers seems to me to have much star quality
and, as I said, I prefer at least the illusion of unity provided
by one performer.
Price is at her peak here: at this stage of her career, that
big, large-scale voice is absolutely secure in all areas, especially
in the husky middle which eventually dropped out. It would be
disingenuous not to remark that at times it is like hearing
Aida perform these delicate songs. Nonetheless, Price inflects
the text in well-schooled, if not especially idiomatic, French
and she produces the grand effect that Crespin aims for but
cannot achieve with less effulgent vocal resources. Although
I compared her with Te Kanawa, she is least successful where
Te Kanawa scores, in the opening song; “Villanelle“, whose delivery
borders on the hectic rather than the merely sprightly, and
thus does not form the best possible introduction to the cycle.
After that, however, it gets better and better. My favourite
song, “Le Spectre de la Rose” – or is it “Absence”? I can never
decide – is caressed in luscious, dreamy tones, the accompaniment
beautifully articulated by the orchestra. Price produces a wonderful
crescendo on “j’arrive du paradis”, just like Jessye Norman.
She has a great conductor and orchestra to accompany her: just
listen to the beginning of the third stanza where there is a
lovely tremolo on the strings, which then sigh exquisitely in
thirds and fifths on “Et sur l’albâtre”; perfect. In “Absence”,
Price uses a delicate half voice in her cry “Reviens”, and achieves
a desperate, searing melancholy exactly where you need it in
“à lasser les pied des chevaux”; in “Sur les lagunes” she assumes
a suitably ghostly, blanched, washed-out tone; “Au cimetière”
benefits from the profundity and resignation implied by her
sonorous lower register. So much of what she does is right and
there is a surprising variety of tonal colouring; this is a
real interpretation, not a perfunctory sing-through.
The sound is superb, expertly remastered from RCA’s original
4-track tape. There is barely a hint of hiss and a wholly satisfying
depth and warmth suffuses the whole performance.
Bonuses are provide in the form of an extended extract from
Colin Davis’ 1960 “L’Enfance du Christ”, with Elsie Morison
tender and delightful as Mary and Joseph Cameron giving her
sterling support as Joseph – yet the singers remain unidentified
by the notes. These extracts are also in excellent sound, similarly
remastered from the original 4-track tape, this time from Decca
London. Some might have wished that the coupling had instead
been taken from the famous recording conducted by Charles Munch
but this one with the St Anthony Singers is still very pleasing.
Full texts and translations into English are provided for the
song-cycle only and it has to be said that they are in a rather
amateurish format: fuzzy printing on poor paper with a loose,
perforated insert.* Indeed the whole enterprise has a rather
low-budget appearance, but with performances of this artistic
and technical quality it matters little. One small linguistic
issue: the title should appear as “Les Nuits d’été" and
not "D’été", which is a French solecism. Packaging
apart, this is a glamorous issue for lovers of Berlioz, Price,
Reiner and the Romantic sensibility in general.
* We have been given to understand that commercial releases
are on a higher standard of paper - Len
Ralph Moore
Leontyne
Price (soprano) 
