All right, everybody, I'm going to try and get caught up so I can write about "L'Elisir D'Amore," because I'm super excited to tell everyone about the opening show of the Met's 2012-2013 season. But first, I must deal with "Ernani," which I saw last February. Goes to show how seldom I post here. I am, as you surely know by now, an avid Verdi-lover. Violetta from "La Traviata" is my dream role. Gilda of "Rigoletto" and Oscar of "Un Ballo in Maschera" are also roles I'd love to sing someday. "Il Trovatore" is a great work in my opinion. So, I was looking forward to attending a Verdi opera I had never seen or heard before. My expectations, I'm afraid, were sorely disappointed.
Well... one of my biggest complaints about the piece was really the story, so I'll start there. The plot is supposed to revolve around Ernani, an outcast nobleman turned vigilante/criminal. He's in love with Elvira, a lady of noble birth, who is being held prisoner (essentially)by Don Ruy Gomez de Silva, her elderly uncle. De Silva is forcing Elvira into marrying him, but Ernani plans on rescuing her... That is, until his other rival, Don Carlo(king of Spain and a candidate for Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire), steps in. So the three gents duke it out while Elvira begs for Ernani's safety. De Silva apologizes to Don Carlo once he knows Carlo's true identity, and the king forgives his rival, whose political support he needs.
Plans for De Silva's marriage to Elvira continue, but Ernani again attempts to foil them (Elvira pleading for mercy once more) and is again interrupted. But this time, there's a twist: De Silva hides Ernani and refuses to give the outlaw into Don Carlo's custody. Don Carlo takes Elvira as hostage. After a brief scuffle, De Silva and Ernani decide to put aside their quarrel until after they have gotten Don Carlo out of the way. Here, Ernani makes a really stupid move, almost stupider than Faust selling his soul to the Devil: he puts his life in his rival's hands, giving De Silva a hunting horn and promising him that when the horn is sounded, he will kill himself. Facepalm, anyone?
While Don Carlo awaits news of the election results, a conspiracy has been formed by Don Carlo, Ernani, and their respective supporters to kill the king. But they're not terribly good at plotting, because their prey simply lies in wait for them, and once cannonfire signals his election, he pops out and orders their arrest. Elvira shows up and begs for Ernani's life (forget the other noblemen). This seems to have become a hobby for her. But hey, wait a second-- it actually works this time! Don Carlo has a change of heart, forgives his enemies, and agrees to let Ernani marry Elvira.
All seems well until the wedding night. A fabulous part is underway, when suddenly a stranger appears in a long, dark cloak. Guess who? De Silva! But do any of the guests do anything? No. They just let him slip in and demand the life Ernani promised him. Ernani, if nothing else, is true to his word, and after the horn sounds, he stabs himself and dies in Elvira's arms.
Lame, right? I can deal with melodrama. After all, that's opera in a nutshell. But this was just ridiculous. The characters were flat and predictable (except Don Carlo, strangely...) and I guess Verdi thought "Who cares about triangles? Let's have a love-square!" It was just too much. I almost thought Elvira was going to be a new favorite character; in the opening act, she threatens to stab Don Carlo when he tries to kidnap her. Badass! But she spends the rest of the opera pining and begging for mercy for Ernani every ten minutes. And don't get me started on the boy-toy himself-- he refers to himself in the third person constantly and doesn't really get anything done. But the opera has some great numbers, and with the right cast and the right director, it could be pretty good.
Now, for the review of the Met's "Ernani". Let the roasting begin!
The production was a lavish revival of a past "Ernani" from the 80's. Stunning period costumes, enormous, rich sets-- absolutely beautiful. Our cast starred Angela Meade as Elvira, Marcello Giordani as Ernani, Dmitri Hvorostovsky as Don Carlo, and Feruccio Furlanetto as De Silva.
I had especially looked forward to this show because of Hvorostovksy and Furlanetto; I can never say enough about these two amazing singers. Hvorostovsky made his character real for me, flesh and blood, multi-dimensional, and he did it with style and panache. It was an absolute pleasure to see Furlanetto in action as De Silva. He sang the role with a sultry richness and deep-rooted emotion that is incomparable. You could hear the years of bitterness in the character's heart through Furlanetto's voice.
Angela Meade, a new star in the Met constellation, has a gorgeous voice. It's smooth, controlled, balanced, easy on the ears. I hope to see her in more operas in the future. I'd love to hear her do something like Nedda in "I Pagliacci" or even Leonora in "Il Trovatore".
Personally, I found Marcello Giordani's performance homogenous, and not in a good way. It felt bland and as flat as his character, which is something that can be helped. He's a great singer, but I think he could work on acting a bit more.
Also, the stage director was pretty unimaginative. The chorus just stood around while the main players acted in front of them, and it was just plain uncomfortable to watch. It felt like the stereotype of opera, not the genuine article. And I think I heard a slight hiccup in the timing between the main singers and the orchestra at the very end of Act II, but that could just be me.
Anyway, for those of you who are trying out opera for the first time and would like to hear some Verdi, I prescribe you steer clear of "Ernani." Go for "Traviata," "Trovatore," "Rigoletto," or perhaps "Un Ballo in Maschera" first. Later in your opera experience, if you really want to, go back for "Ernani," but don't let that be a player in your tender, impressionable, early days of listening to opera.
Until next time,
Your friend and fellow opera-lover,
~R.M.
Showing posts with label Verdi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Verdi. Show all posts
Monday, February 18, 2013
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
...But save the Troubadour!
Hi, there! I know I skipped last week-- please, don't throw anything at me-- I was rather sick, and having a long day. Heck, I've been having a lot of long days this week!
So, anyway, this week I want to write about Verdi's "Il Trovatore," "The Troubadour." Considered one of Verdi's three greatest operas (the other two being "Rigoletto" and "La Traviata"), this dark and dramatic work was written in 1854. Verdi, of course, was known for using very dark themes in his operas, and I'd say this one about tops the scale in that regard; it tells "A story of gypsy vengeance and mistaken identity." Set in 16th-century Spain, the opera is divided into four "Parts:" "The Duel," "The Gypsy," "The Gypsy's Son," and "The Ordeal." The opera opens as Count de Luna's guards tell the tale of his sad past: the Count once had a brother who, while still a baby, grew sick. An old gypsy woman who was found near the baby's cradle was accused of cursing him and burned at the stake, but the gypsy's daughter stole the Count's baby brother. A child's skeleton was found in the ashes of the flame the gypsy had burned in, but the Count's father insisted that the baby boy was still alive and made the Count swear never to stop looking for his brother. Next, we see the Count's preparations to woo the fair Leonora thwarted by his enemy, the Troubadour Manrico, who Leonora is in love with. Leonora comes out of her chambers, and in the darkness mistakes the Count for the Troubadour. A bit of hectic madness ensues, the misunderstanding is cleared up between Manrico and Leonora, but Count de Luna demands a fight, and Manrico is willing to give him satisfaction. The two go off to have a duel, and the first "Part" ends. In the next part, a bandaged Manrico and a caravan of gypsies are seen working merrily away to the tune of a very famous chorus, "Chi de gitano" or the "Anvil chorus." But their merriment does not last long; Azucena, an old gypsy woman, sings a haunting aria narrating the death of her mother, who was burned at stake [*HINT HINT HINT*]. Azucena then can only repeat the words her mother said before she died: "Avenge me! Avenge me!" The gypsies leave to seek other amusements, leaving Azcena and Manrico alone. Manrico asks his mother what is the matter, and she tells an even darker tale as she goes through the finer details of what happened the day her mother was burned. Moments later, Manrico receives intelligence that Leonora, who thinks Manrico is dead, is about to join a nunnery. Despite his mother's warnings, Manrico leaves to stop Leonora before he loses her forever. Little does he know that the Count is already there, poised to kidnap Leonora. Manrico, however, has brought help, and the Count's forces are outnumbered. Manrico wins the day and takes Leonora back to his hideout. Thus ends the second part.
Phew... *stretches* Two more parts to go. Deep breath! On we go!
So... Third part: Azucena wanders off to look for Manrico and gets captured by Count de Luna, who recognizes her as the gypsy who stole his baby brother. He imprisons her, plotting revenge. Meanwhile, Manrico and Leonora are preparing to be married, when someone comes and tells Marnico that De Luna is planning on burning Azucena at stake. Manrico rushes off to go save his mother, and the third part ends. And now, the finale. The fourth and last act opens with Leonora and one of Manrico's comrades outside de Luna's castle. Manrico has been captured, and de Luna intends to execute him as well as the gypsy. Leonora has come to see if she can reason with de Luna and save Manrico. She finds de Luna and pleads with him to no avail. "Kill me, drink my blood, trample my corpse, but save the Troubadour!" She says, but the Count will not comply. Finally, she kneels down and offers herself to the Count in exchange for Manrico's life. The Count is all too eager to accept that bargain, and makes her swear to it. While the Count arranges Manrico's release, Leonora drinks a dose of poison she had hidden in her ring, and says in sottovoce, "You will have me... but cold and dead!" Meanwhile, Manrico and Azucena are contemplating their respective demises in their prison cell. Azucena fears the stake more than anything in the world, but Manrico manages to get her to lie down and sleep, to dream of happy times. Then, Leonora comes in and attempts to convince Manrico to leave, but he will not go without her. He suspects that she has sold the love she swore was his. He curses her for her infidelity, but she keeps trying to get him out, until she faints and explains, "I chose to die yours rather than live as another's." Manrico immediately repents of his accusations, and the Count, having entered in the background, sees that Leonora has betrayed him. As Leonora breathes her last, the Count sends Manrico to the stake. Just then, Azucena wakes up, and tries to stop the Count from killing Manrico-- minutes too late. "He was your brother!" She cries, "Mother, you are avenged!" The Count, horrified, screams, "And I must live on!" and the opera ends.
Wow. That took really long. Would you have ever guessed that Manrico was the Count's long-lost brother?? [*wink*] So, some notes about the opera: the "Anvil Chorus," Azucena's aria "Stride la Vampa," Manrico's arias "Ah, si, Ben Mio" and "Di Quella Pira" and the Count's aria "Il Balen del Suo Sorriso" are all very famous. The duet between the Count and Leonora in the fourth act is pretty standard amongst singers specializing in Verdi, too. But I think these songs are all better when you hear them in context. Verdi once said that in order for a production of "Il Trovatore" to be successful, "All you need are the four greatest singers in the world." So, what recording do I have to offer you today?
Here it is, folks! The RCA Victor 1970 recording of "Il Trovatore" starring Placido Domingo in the title role, Leontyne Price as Leonora, Fiorenza Cossotto as Azucena, and Sherrill Milnes as the Count de Luna. Zubin Mehta conducts the New Philharmonia Orchestra and John McCarthy directs the Ambrosian Opera Chorus.
This collection of recordings, as far as I have experienced, is fabulous. Great casts, excellent sound quality, and very reasonably priced. Heck, the recording of "I, Pagliacci" from this series only costs $8 new on Amazon! I think this one was $11 or maybe $15. Either way, the RCA Victor Opera Treasury collection is great, so if you find other operas from it, they'll probably be really good purchases. Let's talk about the cast...
As I have said, I love Placido Domingo. He is not only a great singer but a marvelous actor. His performance here is so incredible-- it's mostly what made me fall in love with this recording (I rented it from a library before I owned it).
Fiorenza Cossotto is absolutely amazing as Azucena. Her voice is dark and mysterious, with a great vibrato, good consistency, and good heavens, what control! She sounds haunting without sounding cold. She's a great singer, and she is perfect for this role.
I have always had a fondness for Sherrill Milnes. A lot of people say he sang incorrectly for a long time (which is true-- I've heard it in videos on Youtube), but in all the studio recordings I have of him, he sounds great. He is as versatile and as great at acting as Domingo. He's very reliable as baritones go, and he does a great job as the Count.
Hm... Leontyne Price... I like her voice, and she has a great range, etc. etc. etc., but I don't think she's the greatest Leonora. I feel like Price's voice is a little bit dark for the role, or maybe her voice was just stressed during the recording session. Her high notes sound stressed and a bit stretched out to me, but no weaker than her lower-register bits, which is a good thing. Price's voice is stable, powerful, and flexible. She's not half bad as Leonora, but I would definitely recommend that you explore Youtube, etc., and listen to other Leonoras first. Sandra Radvanovsky is a good one, for example. But, this recording is still fantastic, and I highly recommend it! The chorus is wonderful, the conducting is wonderful, and all around, it's just a beautiful recording of "Il Trovatore."
With that, I bid you farewell until next week.
Your friend and fellow opera-lover,
~R.M.
So, anyway, this week I want to write about Verdi's "Il Trovatore," "The Troubadour." Considered one of Verdi's three greatest operas (the other two being "Rigoletto" and "La Traviata"), this dark and dramatic work was written in 1854. Verdi, of course, was known for using very dark themes in his operas, and I'd say this one about tops the scale in that regard; it tells "A story of gypsy vengeance and mistaken identity." Set in 16th-century Spain, the opera is divided into four "Parts:" "The Duel," "The Gypsy," "The Gypsy's Son," and "The Ordeal." The opera opens as Count de Luna's guards tell the tale of his sad past: the Count once had a brother who, while still a baby, grew sick. An old gypsy woman who was found near the baby's cradle was accused of cursing him and burned at the stake, but the gypsy's daughter stole the Count's baby brother. A child's skeleton was found in the ashes of the flame the gypsy had burned in, but the Count's father insisted that the baby boy was still alive and made the Count swear never to stop looking for his brother. Next, we see the Count's preparations to woo the fair Leonora thwarted by his enemy, the Troubadour Manrico, who Leonora is in love with. Leonora comes out of her chambers, and in the darkness mistakes the Count for the Troubadour. A bit of hectic madness ensues, the misunderstanding is cleared up between Manrico and Leonora, but Count de Luna demands a fight, and Manrico is willing to give him satisfaction. The two go off to have a duel, and the first "Part" ends. In the next part, a bandaged Manrico and a caravan of gypsies are seen working merrily away to the tune of a very famous chorus, "Chi de gitano" or the "Anvil chorus." But their merriment does not last long; Azucena, an old gypsy woman, sings a haunting aria narrating the death of her mother, who was burned at stake [*HINT HINT HINT*]. Azucena then can only repeat the words her mother said before she died: "Avenge me! Avenge me!" The gypsies leave to seek other amusements, leaving Azcena and Manrico alone. Manrico asks his mother what is the matter, and she tells an even darker tale as she goes through the finer details of what happened the day her mother was burned. Moments later, Manrico receives intelligence that Leonora, who thinks Manrico is dead, is about to join a nunnery. Despite his mother's warnings, Manrico leaves to stop Leonora before he loses her forever. Little does he know that the Count is already there, poised to kidnap Leonora. Manrico, however, has brought help, and the Count's forces are outnumbered. Manrico wins the day and takes Leonora back to his hideout. Thus ends the second part.
Phew... *stretches* Two more parts to go. Deep breath! On we go!
So... Third part: Azucena wanders off to look for Manrico and gets captured by Count de Luna, who recognizes her as the gypsy who stole his baby brother. He imprisons her, plotting revenge. Meanwhile, Manrico and Leonora are preparing to be married, when someone comes and tells Marnico that De Luna is planning on burning Azucena at stake. Manrico rushes off to go save his mother, and the third part ends. And now, the finale. The fourth and last act opens with Leonora and one of Manrico's comrades outside de Luna's castle. Manrico has been captured, and de Luna intends to execute him as well as the gypsy. Leonora has come to see if she can reason with de Luna and save Manrico. She finds de Luna and pleads with him to no avail. "Kill me, drink my blood, trample my corpse, but save the Troubadour!" She says, but the Count will not comply. Finally, she kneels down and offers herself to the Count in exchange for Manrico's life. The Count is all too eager to accept that bargain, and makes her swear to it. While the Count arranges Manrico's release, Leonora drinks a dose of poison she had hidden in her ring, and says in sottovoce, "You will have me... but cold and dead!" Meanwhile, Manrico and Azucena are contemplating their respective demises in their prison cell. Azucena fears the stake more than anything in the world, but Manrico manages to get her to lie down and sleep, to dream of happy times. Then, Leonora comes in and attempts to convince Manrico to leave, but he will not go without her. He suspects that she has sold the love she swore was his. He curses her for her infidelity, but she keeps trying to get him out, until she faints and explains, "I chose to die yours rather than live as another's." Manrico immediately repents of his accusations, and the Count, having entered in the background, sees that Leonora has betrayed him. As Leonora breathes her last, the Count sends Manrico to the stake. Just then, Azucena wakes up, and tries to stop the Count from killing Manrico-- minutes too late. "He was your brother!" She cries, "Mother, you are avenged!" The Count, horrified, screams, "And I must live on!" and the opera ends.
Wow. That took really long. Would you have ever guessed that Manrico was the Count's long-lost brother?? [*wink*] So, some notes about the opera: the "Anvil Chorus," Azucena's aria "Stride la Vampa," Manrico's arias "Ah, si, Ben Mio" and "Di Quella Pira" and the Count's aria "Il Balen del Suo Sorriso" are all very famous. The duet between the Count and Leonora in the fourth act is pretty standard amongst singers specializing in Verdi, too. But I think these songs are all better when you hear them in context. Verdi once said that in order for a production of "Il Trovatore" to be successful, "All you need are the four greatest singers in the world." So, what recording do I have to offer you today?
Here it is, folks! The RCA Victor 1970 recording of "Il Trovatore" starring Placido Domingo in the title role, Leontyne Price as Leonora, Fiorenza Cossotto as Azucena, and Sherrill Milnes as the Count de Luna. Zubin Mehta conducts the New Philharmonia Orchestra and John McCarthy directs the Ambrosian Opera Chorus.
This collection of recordings, as far as I have experienced, is fabulous. Great casts, excellent sound quality, and very reasonably priced. Heck, the recording of "I, Pagliacci" from this series only costs $8 new on Amazon! I think this one was $11 or maybe $15. Either way, the RCA Victor Opera Treasury collection is great, so if you find other operas from it, they'll probably be really good purchases. Let's talk about the cast...
As I have said, I love Placido Domingo. He is not only a great singer but a marvelous actor. His performance here is so incredible-- it's mostly what made me fall in love with this recording (I rented it from a library before I owned it).
Fiorenza Cossotto is absolutely amazing as Azucena. Her voice is dark and mysterious, with a great vibrato, good consistency, and good heavens, what control! She sounds haunting without sounding cold. She's a great singer, and she is perfect for this role.
I have always had a fondness for Sherrill Milnes. A lot of people say he sang incorrectly for a long time (which is true-- I've heard it in videos on Youtube), but in all the studio recordings I have of him, he sounds great. He is as versatile and as great at acting as Domingo. He's very reliable as baritones go, and he does a great job as the Count.
Hm... Leontyne Price... I like her voice, and she has a great range, etc. etc. etc., but I don't think she's the greatest Leonora. I feel like Price's voice is a little bit dark for the role, or maybe her voice was just stressed during the recording session. Her high notes sound stressed and a bit stretched out to me, but no weaker than her lower-register bits, which is a good thing. Price's voice is stable, powerful, and flexible. She's not half bad as Leonora, but I would definitely recommend that you explore Youtube, etc., and listen to other Leonoras first. Sandra Radvanovsky is a good one, for example. But, this recording is still fantastic, and I highly recommend it! The chorus is wonderful, the conducting is wonderful, and all around, it's just a beautiful recording of "Il Trovatore."
With that, I bid you farewell until next week.
Your friend and fellow opera-lover,
~R.M.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Of Masks and Maria
Augh! I've skipped two weeks!! Someone draw me up an indulgence, please!
This week, I would like to discuss something that's really been irking me: Maria Callas. For those of you who don't know, once you enter the opera world, half of the ravings you'll hear are about Callas, Callas, Callas. Everybody loves her. They can't get enough of her. Well, I'm going to reiterate my honest opinion on Callas-- I find it painful to listen to her sing. This isn't just because I want to be rebellious and not like Callas just for the sake of being different. It's just that she ruined Amelia of "Un Ballo in Maschera" for me. I think the problem is that people seem to think that if a singer is good for one thing, he/she must be good for everything. Maria Callas had a terrific chest voice and a nice vibrato. Her Carmen was fabulous! But soprano roles like Norma and Amelia were not really good for her (at least, in my opinion). It literally sounds like every time she had to sing a high note, she went "Oh, crud" in her head, and the note is shrill and stressed and literally painful. As a singer, I often find myself shifting my vocal chords, etc. in anticipation of singing the notes I hear, and when I listen to Callas, I can feel the pain she must have had in her throat when she sang those notes. I cringe. My throat goes, "Don't do it! For sweet, Italian Vivaldi's sake, DON'T DO IT!!!" But she does it. It hurts. Why, Maria, why?? Why did you do it??
Which brings me to my review of this EMI Classics recording of Verdi's "Un Ballo in Macschera." Well, not really. That was a weird segue. But let's start on that anyway.
Now, about a year ago, an online friend introduced me to the world of Dmitri Hvorostovsky. Naturally, one of the first Youtube videos I found of him was his performance of "Alzatti...Eri tu" at the Cardiff Singer of the World Competition in 1989. It made me cry. I love Verdi, and after hearing that song, I knew I'd want to own the whole opera. So, I picked this one out for Christmas. At the time, it was one of the least expensive copies I could get, and even so, I think it was $20 or over. I hadn't heard any recordings of Maria Callas yet, but I figured, "Oh, everybody loves her. Let's give her a try!" And I did. But there are some funny things going on with this set.
From the "How well was this object made" standpoint: The CDs and booklet and slip cover came beautifully intact. However, the back of the CD case has the singer and time duration information for a similarly cast recording of Verdi's "Aida." This isn't very helpful, considering I neither own nor have heard "Aida," and the contents of the CD case are "Un Ballo in Maschera." Someone in manufacturing made a boo-boo...
But anyway, that was just a small detail I thought I'd let you know of-- other EMI sets from the Maria Callas series might have similar problems. But let's get on with the opera, shall we?
I think "Maschera" is an incredible opera. It has a great prelude, very unique and distinguishable individual tunes, and the overall quality of the music is memorable, dramatic, and superb. Antonino Votto did a great job conducting and the chorus and orchestra of Milan were splendid. Tito Gobbi, who I enjoy very much, Fedora Barbieri, and Eugenia Ratti were excellent casting choices. Gobbi gave a warm, empathetic performance as Renato, Barbieri was a deliciously dark and mysterious Ulrica, and Ratti was delightfully charming as Oscar. She makes me want to sing Oscar someday. However, I'm afraid I can't say as much for Maria Callas and Giuseppe di Stefano, our Amelia and Riccardo. Aforesaid, Callas's performance makes my ears and my throat hurt, and Stefano's rendition of Riccardo is just too cold. Because of these two, my opinions of the characters are skewed. I think of Amelia as an overly dramatic, screechy woman who isn't really an important character and has kind of boring arias. I think of Riccardo as a cold, heartless, selfish, and haughty little man who can't see how other people feel past his own desires. Riccardo, to me, is the epitome of the tenor-whelp. He started the whole durn mess because he didn't have enough common sense to leave Amelia be, seeing as she was trying to save her marriage and actually be a good person. Stupid Count. Thinks he should just have everything he wants. It makes me mad every time I hear him go, "Ah, l'ho segnato il sacrifizio mio!" It's like, "Oh, I'm in love with this woman who's married to my best friend and I emotionally tortured her until she confessed she loved me too. I got her in a boatload of trouble. But I'm gonna send her and her hubby back to England to make it all better. Oh, my sacrifice! Boo-hoo-hoo! I don't get to have the chick who's already taken!" What a blockhead. What a whelp! And the only times Stefano uses any kind of emotional expression in his voice are during the scene at Urlica's cave and for "Oh qual soave brivido." That's it! No wonder I dislike Riccardo.
So this is my overall opinion: I do not recommend this copy of "Un Ball in Maschera." Callas and Stefano are enough to ruin the main character for anyone new to the opera. However, if you are bent on trying Maria Callas's Amelia and want to hear the greatness of Gobbi, Barbieri, and Ratti, then go ahead. But-- and I can't put too fine a point on this-- familiarize yourself with a different version first!!!
Until next time,
Your friend and fellow opera-lover,
~R.M.
This week, I would like to discuss something that's really been irking me: Maria Callas. For those of you who don't know, once you enter the opera world, half of the ravings you'll hear are about Callas, Callas, Callas. Everybody loves her. They can't get enough of her. Well, I'm going to reiterate my honest opinion on Callas-- I find it painful to listen to her sing. This isn't just because I want to be rebellious and not like Callas just for the sake of being different. It's just that she ruined Amelia of "Un Ballo in Maschera" for me. I think the problem is that people seem to think that if a singer is good for one thing, he/she must be good for everything. Maria Callas had a terrific chest voice and a nice vibrato. Her Carmen was fabulous! But soprano roles like Norma and Amelia were not really good for her (at least, in my opinion). It literally sounds like every time she had to sing a high note, she went "Oh, crud" in her head, and the note is shrill and stressed and literally painful. As a singer, I often find myself shifting my vocal chords, etc. in anticipation of singing the notes I hear, and when I listen to Callas, I can feel the pain she must have had in her throat when she sang those notes. I cringe. My throat goes, "Don't do it! For sweet, Italian Vivaldi's sake, DON'T DO IT!!!" But she does it. It hurts. Why, Maria, why?? Why did you do it??
Which brings me to my review of this EMI Classics recording of Verdi's "Un Ballo in Macschera." Well, not really. That was a weird segue. But let's start on that anyway.
From the "How well was this object made" standpoint: The CDs and booklet and slip cover came beautifully intact. However, the back of the CD case has the singer and time duration information for a similarly cast recording of Verdi's "Aida." This isn't very helpful, considering I neither own nor have heard "Aida," and the contents of the CD case are "Un Ballo in Maschera." Someone in manufacturing made a boo-boo...
But anyway, that was just a small detail I thought I'd let you know of-- other EMI sets from the Maria Callas series might have similar problems. But let's get on with the opera, shall we?
I think "Maschera" is an incredible opera. It has a great prelude, very unique and distinguishable individual tunes, and the overall quality of the music is memorable, dramatic, and superb. Antonino Votto did a great job conducting and the chorus and orchestra of Milan were splendid. Tito Gobbi, who I enjoy very much, Fedora Barbieri, and Eugenia Ratti were excellent casting choices. Gobbi gave a warm, empathetic performance as Renato, Barbieri was a deliciously dark and mysterious Ulrica, and Ratti was delightfully charming as Oscar. She makes me want to sing Oscar someday. However, I'm afraid I can't say as much for Maria Callas and Giuseppe di Stefano, our Amelia and Riccardo. Aforesaid, Callas's performance makes my ears and my throat hurt, and Stefano's rendition of Riccardo is just too cold. Because of these two, my opinions of the characters are skewed. I think of Amelia as an overly dramatic, screechy woman who isn't really an important character and has kind of boring arias. I think of Riccardo as a cold, heartless, selfish, and haughty little man who can't see how other people feel past his own desires. Riccardo, to me, is the epitome of the tenor-whelp. He started the whole durn mess because he didn't have enough common sense to leave Amelia be, seeing as she was trying to save her marriage and actually be a good person. Stupid Count. Thinks he should just have everything he wants. It makes me mad every time I hear him go, "Ah, l'ho segnato il sacrifizio mio!" It's like, "Oh, I'm in love with this woman who's married to my best friend and I emotionally tortured her until she confessed she loved me too. I got her in a boatload of trouble. But I'm gonna send her and her hubby back to England to make it all better. Oh, my sacrifice! Boo-hoo-hoo! I don't get to have the chick who's already taken!" What a blockhead. What a whelp! And the only times Stefano uses any kind of emotional expression in his voice are during the scene at Urlica's cave and for "Oh qual soave brivido." That's it! No wonder I dislike Riccardo.
So this is my overall opinion: I do not recommend this copy of "Un Ball in Maschera." Callas and Stefano are enough to ruin the main character for anyone new to the opera. However, if you are bent on trying Maria Callas's Amelia and want to hear the greatness of Gobbi, Barbieri, and Ratti, then go ahead. But-- and I can't put too fine a point on this-- familiarize yourself with a different version first!!!
Until next time,
Your friend and fellow opera-lover,
~R.M.
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