This Manon marked
RCA’s move to Italy for their opera
recordings, initially employing the
Rome Opera Chorus and Orchestra, later
the RCA Italiana Orchestra. It was possibly
the first complete version, unless the
Cetra was older, Ironically Decca was
also in Rome the same summer, 1954,
recording the opera with Tebaldi and
Del Monaco, a set that also would be
interesting to see reissued. The set
under consideration is a good one with
excellent contribution from the Italian
comprimarios, three of them taking double
roles, and with three Metropolitan stalwarts
in the leading parts, an American baritone,
a Swedish tenor and an Italian soprano
with a Romanian maestro leading the
proceedings.
Mark Obert-Thorn has
made good transfers from the original
LPs and even though this is a mono recording
it is well-defined and dynamic enough
to make it a worthwhile acquisition.
By 1954 the technical excellence had
reached a level that even today is more
"modern" than "historical".
Jonel Perlea, who made
a number of important opera recordings,
leads a very flexible performance and
is, or so it seems, very considerate
to his main soloists who are encouraged
to delve deep into their characters.
Sometimes he can be dangerously slow
but not to such a degree that he loses
momentum. The intermezzo (CD2 track
1) shows the best of him, tender and
impassioned, and the Rome orchestra
play the music as to the manner born.
It is also good to have a real opera
chorus instead of some studio group
who possibly sing better but don’t act
convincingly.
Mario Carlin with a
pleasant lyric voice sings well as Edmondo
and also characterises the Dancing Master
with suitable haughtiness in the second
act. As Geronte we hear Sicilian-born
bass Franco Calabrese who impresses
greatly with his warmth and nobility.
Geronte being the evil person in this
drama is often interpreted with distorted
noises but of course he is a nobleman
who has had a great career. As such
he should know how to please people
with his good manners, including a charming
voice. It is a pity that he mostly is
represented on records in comprimario
parts, bar Almaviva in the Glyndebourne
production recorded in 1955 with Gui
conducting. His voice, as heard here,
is similar to Robert Merrill’s, although
a third lower. Merrill is glorious and
also much more flexible and nuanced
than on many other recordings. Listen
to him on CD1 track 14 in the second
act scene with his sister Manon and
also at the beginning of the third act.
But the real hero of
this recording is Jussi Björling
in a part that is just as important
as the heroine’s. This was, if I’m not
mistaken, the last new role Björling
added to his repertoire, only a couple
of years before this recording was made.
The opera played an important part in
his career since he made his debut at
the Stockholm Opera, aged 19, as the
Lamplighter in the third act. He also
sang des Grieux at his penultimate appearance
in Stockholm in 1959. It has been said
and written many times that this is
probably his very best complete opera
recording, singing with a passion and
feeling that is almost tangible. He
has a heroic ring so silvery that one
gets goose-pimples. Donna non vidi
mai (CD1 track 6) is splendidly
sung but one can dip into any scene
where he appears and everything feels
absolutely right. Let me just pick one
moment of exceptional beauty and passion:
just before the end of act two, when
he urges Manon to flee with him (CD1
track 22) Ah, Manon, mi tradisce,
sung with the utmost simplicity and
warmth. The famous silver-shining brilliance
is there of course but what impresses
most is the restraint, the nuances that
make des Grieux a man of flesh and blood.
This aria has always stood out as possibly
the best evidence of Björling’s
capacity as an opera "artist".
I had it very early on a compilation
LP and have returned to it over and
over again for more than forty years.
If Jussi Björling is to be represented
with only one item - horrible thought!
- on a future "Record of Singing"
anthology, covering the 1950s, this
would probably be it! What tenderness,
what inflections, what passion!
I have left the heroine
until last. Unfortunately she is also
the weakest link in this cast. Licia
Albanese had been singing professionally
for twenty years, at the Metropolitan
since 1940. Although not much older
than forty her voice had lost some of
its former sheen. It is quite occluded
in the middle register and her vibrato
can be irritating, sometimes approaching
a wobble. Her top is impressive though,
steady and brilliant but not warm enough
and the most serious drawback: she sounds
decidedly old. Manon, after all, is
a teenager. When reviewing
Maria Callas’s Puccini recital on Regis
recently, I mentioned that Callas sounds
girlish – Albanese is middle-aged. Still
there are many good things, too, not
least her deep involvement. Here Björling
and Albanese inspired each other. The
last act is infinitely moving from the
bleak opening to the final chords. Björling
expresses his despair with a voice that
is on the verge of breaking, and Albanese’s
occluded tones seem absolutely right,
considering her physical state, starved,
exhausted, but she has strength enough
to sing Sola, perduta, abbandonata
with a fine ring – but filled with pain.
There is no libretto
– it can be downloaded from naxos.com
– but Keith Anderson’s synopsis is helpful,
and we get a substantial bonus in the
shape of five arias and Villa-Lobos’s
Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5 recorded
separately a few years earlier by Licia
Albanese. She is fresher of voice but
has basically the same vices and virtues
as on the complete opera. Her top is
even more impressive with tremendous
attack but the delivery is a bit unlovely
– there is not much warmth. She sings
Voi lo sapete from Cavalleria
Rusticana with enormous feeling,
complete with sobs and sighs, but even
in the Boito aria, recorded in 1947,
she sounds old. Interestingly she manages
to be rather girlish in the Villa-Lobos
piece, where Frank Miller plays a beautiful
cello solo.
Returning to Manon
Lescaut I have a soft spot for Bartoletti’s
EMI recording from the early 1970s with
Caballé and Domingo. Muti’s live
recording from La Scala (DG) with an
impassioned José Cura is also
great, but no one can afford to be without
this version, for the overall excellence
but especially for Jussi Björling’s
unsurpassable des Grieux, now that it
is available at Naxos price.
Göran Forsling