Giuseppe VERDI (1813-1901)
Il Trovatore – opera in four acts (1853)
Maria Callas (soprano) - Leonora
Fedora Barbieri (mezzo-soprano) - Azucena
Giuseppe di Stefano (tenor) - Manrico
Rolando Panerai (baritone) – Il conte di Luna
Nicola Zaccaria (bass) - Ferrando
Luisa Villa (soprano) - Ines
Renato Ercolani (tenor) - Ruiz/Un messo
Giulio Mauri (bass) - Un vecchio zingaro
Chorus and Orchestra of La Scala, Milan/Herbert von Karajan
rec. 3-9 July 1956, La Scala, Milan, Italy
PRISTINE AUDIO PACO181 [67:56 + 61:41]
Pristine Audio continues working through its series of re-masters of the complete operas that Maria Callas recorded in the studio for EMI with their new release of Il Trovatore. The EMI recording sessions with Herbert von Karajan followed hard on the heels of a revival of von Karajan’s La Scala production of Lucia di Lammeroor which was staged in Vienna, which themselves came just after Callas’ only assumption of Giordano’s Fedora for Milan audiences. Immediately after the sessions concluded Callas would dive into preparations for the EMI recordings of La Boheme and Un Ballo in Maschera; that makes three complete operas recorded intensely over a period of about 40 days.
Herbert von Karajan had an obvious sympathy with Il Trovatore among Verdi’s works. He returned to perform it several times over his career, a fact which has produced a legacy of two studio recordings and a handful of live versions as well. Only Don Carlo features more numerously among von Karajan’s legacy. On this occasion von Karajan is deeply immersed in the drama but finds his customary ability to refine the beauty element that is inherent in Verdi’s music. At times it seems that he takes the tempi rather slowly only then to hurry up in unexpected moments. One such passage is the brief duettino that nests between “Ah! Si ben mio” and “Di quella pira”. Karajan takes this section at a fairly brisk pace as if he wants to get it over with, making it more of a challenge for the singers. Despite minor nitpicking on my part, Karajan serves up a grand repast of this much performed opera. The third act scene in the soldiers camp is about as exciting as it gets in a studio-based recording.
Callas is, as one might expect, is an electrifying Leonora. Each musical phrase is illuminated with a theatrical genius that delivers a real character in front of our ears. In “Tacea la notte placida” Callas takes a quite different approach to other sopranos like Joan Sutherland or Eileen Farrell. Callas sings the early rising phrases in such a way that keeps the volume and phrasing light, depicting reminiscence, all the while allowing dark colours to creep into her tone. She then saves the big phrasing/volume moment for the true emotional climax at “melanconici un trovator canto”. The other two sopranos, along with many others, rather overload those earlier phrases to detriment of the later emotional impact of the aria. After such a busy spring schedule Callas’ voice was beginning to sound a bit wiry, particularly in the upper range. This fact, and the collaboration with von Karajan, is no doubt the reason that this Leonora sounds softer and gentler than her earlier assumption on the live broadcast from Mexico City, where she tosses out her chest tones with more abandon than she does here. Even so, her brief interjections of “che dici?” in the trio that concludes Act One are sung with a true fire in the belly that no-one else has ever quite managed. Despite von Karajan’s assertive pushing in the aforementioned duettino after “Ah! Si ben mio”, Callas manages to reach the top G’s with a feather touch that takes one’s breath away.
The other remarkable performance on this recording is that of Rolando Panerai’s Count di Luna. He uses his spectacularly vibrant timbre to bring this elegant villain to life in a most exciting way. The warm throbbing sound which he possessed falls very gratefully on the ear in “Il balen”. If he doesn’t have the remarkable legato and breath control of Piero Cappucilli’s Count on the 1977 von Karajan recording , Panerai’s virile presence is more than adequate compensation.
Fedora Barbieri brings her own unique, pungent sound to Azucena. High notes were never a great asset for this singer. She gets them but only sketchily at best. Still, she is a gifted singer and she manages to convey the old gyspy in an earthy-sounding manner, with a voice infused with a native Italian “terroir”, which would be much prized today if another such singer suddenly appeared on the scene. Similarly, the Greek bass Nicola Zaccaria is a virile and burnished-sounding Ferrando. The sinister-sounding opening scene is grandly vocalized, and he is surprisingly good at registering the difficult articulated 16th notes of “abbieta zingara”. It is worth noting that he also sings the role of the Old Gypsy under the pseudonym of Giulio Mauri.
The chief disappointment of this recording lies in Giuseppe di Stefano’s assumption of Manrico. His voice is just a shade too small for the Spanish Troubador. He is possessed of golden ringing tone to be certain, but for much of the role he is content to force the sound to fill demands of the music. He is so consumed with that effort that there is little left over for him to deliver any sort of character definition which leaves him trailing his illustrious colleages. A telling moment is heard in the wonderful trio that concludes Act One, he is completely drowned out by Callas and Panerai, a fact which the EMI recording team were unable to rectify in 1956.
Pristine Audio provides its now customary high standard in re-mastering this now 66-year-old recording. The XR process does breathe some new life into the old discs, although the enhanced reverb acoustic occasionally seemed a bit too much at times; the opening scene for Nicola Zaccaria is the most noticeable example of this. On the whole this is a case of old wine being given a shiny new bottle to tempt one. The Karajan-Callas recording is not the only version worth considering, but I can guarantee that in this new Pristine edition that it is worth investigating all over again.
Mike Parr
Previous review: Ralph Moore