The name Ettore (originally Héctor) Panizza is not very 
                  well known today, though he was held in high esteem seventy 
                  and more years ago. Richard Strauss admired him deeply. He was 
                  born in 1875 in Buenos Aires, where his father was a cellist 
                  at the Teatro Colón. His father also became his first 
                  teacher. He later went to Italy and the Milan Conservatory. 
                  It was also in Italy that he commenced his conducting career. 
                  Up to the beginning of the war he also appeared regularly at 
                  Covent Garden. During and after the war he worked at La Scala, 
                  until 1932 when he moved to the US. Between 1934 and 1942 he 
                  was the principal conductor of the Italian repertoire at the 
                  Metropolitan Opera, succeeding Tullio Serafin in that capacity. 
                  
                    
                  The reason why he is largely forgotten is no doubt that he made 
                  few if any commercial recordings. Fortunately there are a number 
                  of live broadcasts from the Metropolitan that have been preserved, 
                  among them a terrific Otello, from 1938 with Martinelli, 
                  Tibbett and Elisabeth Rethberg (see review). The present L’elisir d’amore 
                  may not be in that class but it has still many good things on 
                  offer. Good sound is not one of those things but it isn’t 
                  really bad either. The transfers by Ward Marston are from a 
                  set of 5 double-faced 16 inch glass base lacquer-coated discs 
                  taken off the air in Providence, Rhode Island. The sound is 
                  rather aggressive, but it is a clean sound that lets us hear 
                  a lot of instrumental detail. Orchestral tuttis tend to be hard 
                  on the ear. The orchestra play well but the Metropolitan chorus 
                  of this period was not always the most homogenous of bodies. 
                  Panizza was no friend of leisurely tempos but he never rushes 
                  the music and he is pliable towards the singers and allows them 
                  space to inflect their solos. 
                    
                  Three Metropolitan mainstays and a fourth singer whose name 
                  is little known are heard in the leading roles. Salvatore Baccaloni 
                  (b. 1900) was widely regarded as one of the foremost buffo basses 
                  of the 20th century. He had a magnificent voice and 
                  immense comic talent but I believe that he should be seen as 
                  well as heard to make real impact. He is expressive, 
                  he knows how to colour the voice, his enunciation is impeccable, 
                  he has that special sense for timing but - and this is a strong 
                  ‘but’: he often becomes a little too much, there 
                  is too much business. He was, though, a great favourite at the 
                  Metropolitan, where he appeared more than four hundred times 
                  during more than twenty years. Francesco (Frank) Valentino (b. 
                  1907) was not far behind, with close to three hundred performances 
                  during twenty-one seasons. He was Marcello in Toscanini’s 
                  famous 1946 recording of La bohème, but not a 
                  particularly good one. His throaty tone and rather unsubtle 
                  singing here has little of bel canto feeling, but I admit 
                  that his brusque manners suit his character, sergeant Belcore. 
                  
                    
                  The third mainstay is the Brazilian soprano Bidu Sayão. 
                  She was born in 1902, made her debut at the Metropolitan in 
                  1937 and stayed there until 1952, taking part in well over two 
                  hundred performances. She was granted an uncommonly long life, 
                  passing away as recently as 1999. Ms Sayão was one of 
                  the loveliest lyric sopranos of the era, testified not least 
                  by this and other live broadcasts from the Metropolitan. Here 
                  she is a youthful and sprightly Adina, nuanced and with apt 
                  coloratura (try CD 2 tr. 16!). Even better are the duets with 
                  Nemorino, where the two singers inspire each other to great 
                  things. Nemorino, some readers say, that’s the odd man 
                  out, isn’t it? Bruno Landi, never heard of him! 
                    
                  Well, the loss is definitely the listeners’. Here is a 
                  tenore di grazia, nimble, nuanced, beautiful tone, honeyed delivery 
                  but with brilliant top notes in reserve for the big moments. 
                  Cesare Valletti on the old Cetra recording from 1952 is the 
                  touchstone for many, Nicolai Gedda’s 1964 recording another, 
                  and isolated recordings of the famous Una furtiva lagrima 
                  by Tito Schipa, Ferruccio Tagliavini and Leopold Simoneau are 
                  versions to return to. Bruno Landi may not be quite in their 
                  league but he is not far behind. Readers being tempted by my 
                  panegyrics will feel disappointed when hearing the opening of 
                  his entrance aria Quanto e bella (CD 1 tr. 4), where 
                  he sounds small voiced and undernourished, but I suppose he 
                  is entering backstage. After a few bars he is up front and can 
                  be enjoyed in all his glory. Una furtiva (CD 2 tr.14) 
                  is certainly delicious. 
                    
                  A few words about the singer. Landi was born in 1900, the same 
                  year as Baccaloni. He made his debut in 1925, as the Duke in 
                  Rigoletto, and sang for the next ten years in Italy. 
                  In 1935 he went to South America, where he was immensely popular. 
                  He returned to Italy and now sang at La Scala. In 1938 he made 
                  his Metropolitan debut, again in Rigoletto, and remained 
                  there until 1946, returning in 1951 for a single appearance 
                  in Il barbiere di Siviglia. According to the Metropolitan 
                  Opera Data Base he sang in 56 performances in a handful of operas. 
                  Besides the two already mentioned he appeared in La bohème, 
                  La traviata, Don Pasquale and L’Elisir d’amore. 
                  There are a couple of other live recordings with him. 
                    
                  Let me, just for the record, point out that Giannetta is sung 
                  by Mona Paulee, who had made her Metropolitan debut in this 
                  same role a few weeks earlier and continued to sing cameo roles 
                  until May 1946 in a total of 158 performances. Her biggest role 
                  wasSiebelin Faust, which she sang only 
                  once, probably as understudy for someone who had to cancel. 
                  There is another ‘soloist’ as well, and a true legend: 
                  Milton Cross, the announcer for the NBC broadcasts from the 
                  very first one in 1931 until his death in 1975. During these 
                  43 years he missed only two broadcasts! 
                    
                  Everybody needs at least a couple of good recordings of this 
                  delectable opera. The Cetra set with Valletti, The Decca recording 
                  with Di Stefano at his freshest, the EMI recording with Gedda, 
                  a later Decca with Pavarotti and the Sony (originally CBS) with 
                  Domingo. The present issue can’t compete on sonic grounds 
                  and neither Valentino nor Baccaloni are ideal but Sayão 
                  and Landi are. A flawed performance saved by the tenor and the 
                  soprano. 
                    
                  Göran Forsling