Piccaver's 1912 account of Romeo's aria (one of his earliest discs) from Romeo et Juliet, included on this reissue, is described by Richard Law––in Opera on Record 2 (Hutchinson: 1983)––as being one of an ''almost offensive detachment''. A similar view was taken by Max Loppert, in Vol. 3 (1984), of his ''Spirto gentil'' from La favorita and one listens to many of his other, early discs here with the same feelings. The voice is velvety, as easily produced as any tenor of his––or any––day, but no sense of character, of meaning emerges from the speakers. Piccaver worshipped Caruso and in ''Deserto in terra'' from Donizetti's Dom Sebastien, surely sung as a tribute to his hero, one makes a comparison with his great predecessor and misses the ping in the tone, the involvement of the Italian, while as always admiring the flow of plush tone. More successful is ''Adieu, Mignon'' (sung in German), where the honeyed voice and easeful mezza voce that Piccaver produces charm the ear, but then the later piece (''Elle ne croyait pas'') from Thomas's opera, though the sweet tone is a pleasure in its own right, is once again soporific. Predictably Werther's invocation to nature is more Piccaver territory than the Ossian Lied. These, by the way, are all pre-First World War recordings.
When we reach 1920 and Lensky's aria from Onegin (or what we are given of it), Piccaver is beginning to involve himself more in the proceedings. That also applies to two arias from Manon Lescaut, made the same year and sung in the original. Here the voice has matured and fills music that most tenors find a shade stressful with rich, unforced tone. Here at last we realize why the Vienna of his day lauded him as its favourite tenor––and why very old, expatriate ladies still swoon at even the mention of his name. Yet my favourite series of Piccaver recordings are the red-label Polydors of 1923, most of which I possess in the originals––but they are not included here. On these Piccaver still has the golden tone of the early discs (his electrics are not quite so easily vocalized) and more of the newfound involvement. I hope Preiser will soon reissue them. In the meantime they have done a service by letting us have these early and rare items for a new generation to 'view'. If an innocent ear were to listen to the 1914 ''Che gelida manina'' in the original, it might also swoon at the breadth and opulence of the singing and think I was being an old crab to wish for more.'