It is always interesting
to follow an artist through the years
and notice development, changes in style
and technique and deepened insight.
Eventually comes decline, which of course
is sad but unavoidable if the career
lasts long enough. This ninth volume
in the series, with all available singles
recorded by Gigli, takes us to the period
1936 – 1938. Compared to the immediately
preceeding volumes, which I reviewed
earlier this year, one can hear a voice
that is fuller, darker and more spinto
than before. By this time Gigli was
carefully moving into some heavier roles,
Radames for instance. Celeste Aida,
track 13 on this disc, was recorded
in May 1937, in close proximity to his
stage debut, which, according to Gwyn
Morris’s liner notes to the LP album
"The Best of Gigli" (HMV ALP 1681),
took place at Teatro dell’Opera, Rome
in March of that year. Alan Blyth mentions
performances in Berlin in June, but
they were obviously not his role debut.
He certainly has the required heroic
ring and the final B flat is impressive
although the tone loses quality at the
end. He still also manages the famous
honeyed mezzoforte. Nine years after
this, when he was 56, he recorded the
opera complete with Tullio Serafin,
and the voice is still in remarkably
fine fettle. It has darkened a little,
there is more effort, the vibrato is
a little wider and the tone is a little
dryer but, considering that most tenors
at that age have long passed sell-by
date, it is wonderful, even if the 1937
recording is preferable. The Bohème
duet, set down at the same session,
is even better, not least thanks to
Maria Caniglia, who also was Gigli’s
Aida on that complete recording. She
had a large voice of a type that is
seldom heard today but she could also
fine it down and sing really softly.
And Gigli as Rodolfo is always a pleasure.
He loved the part. The third opera excerpt
on this disc, Federico’s lament from
L’arlesiana, is possibly the
hightlight of this issue. This was another
part that Gigli loved and it is also
good to have him in the part on the
cover. Here his beautiful half-voice
is more or less insurpassable and the
end is practically free from those sentimentalizing
sobs and other devices that he used
to utilize. Overall it seems that he
sings with more taste in these later
recordings. At this stage he was no
longer only a well-known and much loved
opera singer; he was also immensely
popular among the general record-buying
public, and the rest of the contents
on this as usual well-filled disc consists
of "popular" repertoire. Much of it
is what we in sweeping statements call
Neapolitan songs. Among these Curci’s
Notte a Venezia (track 10) is
a fine example of his pianissimo singing;
just listen to the end! Bixio’s Ninna
nanna della vita (track 15) also
finds him in admirable voice, with a
furtive tear visible (audible), only
adding to the charm of the song. This
is one of his loveliest song recordings.
But all these songs have something to
offer with often wonderful pianissimos,
while Denza’s Occhi di fata (track
21) shows him at his most powerful and
Rossini’s La danza (track 22)
is buoyant and light-hearted.
Among the rest there
are the ubiquitous Ave Maria and
Panis Angelicus with a chorus
of angels and a prominent harp to underline
the heavenly atmosphere, but Gigli sings
stylishly, a few scoopings apart. We
also have the hybrid Agnus Dei
by Bizet (track 4), which originally
is the intermezzo from the L’arlesienne
music. It was arranged by Guiraud (he
who composed the recitatives for Carmen),
provided with the latin text and was
a great favourite of Caruso’s. Gigli
took part in a memorial concert for
Caruso in November 1921, where he sang
this piece, and there is indeed Carusian
shine in his top notes, but why that
"bleating" sound near the end, which
has irritated me for forty-plus years?
Was he running out of breath or was
it just an ill-advised attempt at showing
involvement?
Gigli rarely ventured
into the Lieder repertoire but we do
have two songs on this disc and they
show very clearly why. The orchestral
accompaniments are soupy but the singing
is glorious – and unidiomatic. Moreover
he sings one in Italian and the other
in French. One just has to compare his
Grieg to Jussi Björling’s in this
same song, recently issued by Naxos
and there is a world of difference.
Two songs really stick
out from the rest in an unpleasant way.
It’s tracks 11 and 12 and they seem
unlikely choices for Gigli, he doesn’t
sound very comfortable singing them
either. Recorded in 1937, when Mussolini
and the fascists were reigning, Inno
a Roma (Hymn to Rome) and Giovinezza
(Youth) with trumpet fanfares, marching
and a chorus of young men sound very
much like propaganda. They were recorded
in March; in September Mussolini visited
Berlin and created the Berlin – Rome
axis. I haven’t delved into this but
there may be readers who know more.
For strict opera lovers
this volume has not much to offer but
lovers of good, often exquisite singing
will find a lot to treasure. And Gigli
completists will already have bought
it. The transfers by Mark Obert-Thorn
are just as fine as could be expected,
the material having been previously
available on Romophone. Alan Blyth’s
liner notes, which also appeared on
the Romophone discs, are full of insights
and the only thing that is cheap about
this issue is the price.
Göran Forsling
Beniamino Gigli (tenor), Maria Caniglia
(soprano) (track 14), Berlin State Opera Orchestra/Alois
Melichar (tr 1-3), Bruno Seidler-Winkler (tr
4-10), La Scala Orchestra and Chorus/Giuseppe
Antonicelli (tr 11-12), Orchestra/Walter Goehr
(tr 13-14, 19-22), Orchestra/Dino Olivieri (tr
15-18) Recorded 24th May 1936 in
Electrola Studio A, Berlin(tr 1-4); 2nd
June 1936 in Electrola Studio A, Berlin (tr
5-10), 8th March 1937 at the Teatro
della Cannobiana, Milan (tr 11-12), 28th
May 1937 in Studio 1, Abbey Road, London (tr
13-14), 24th February 1938 at the
Pro Salute Studios, Milan (tr 15-18), 4th
June 1938 in Studio 1A, Abbey Road, London (tr
19-22) 
