The LSO Live series goes from strength to strength. Here is a new version of La damnation de Faust which matches and even outshines previous sets at whatever price, not least in the gripping drama of the performance, the more intense for being recorded live. This strange mixture of opera and concert work can so easily seem wayward in its treatment of Goethe, with its episodic sequence of scenes, yet even more than in his classic 1973 recording for Philips, Davis involves you in the painful quandry-obsessing Faust, never letting tension slip for a moment.
There may be different views over the portrayal of the central character by Giuseppe Sabbatini. He is more overtly emotional than any of his immediate rivals on the versions listed. In the heat of the moment he tends to resort to an Italianate style, with the hint of a half-sob or the occasional phrase which is only half vocalised, instead of being sung note for note. Purists may resist, yet with his firm, golden, finely shaded tone and his radiant treatment of the most high-lying passages – in command of a perfect head voice – the total impact is intensely characterful and involving. As Hilary Finch said in her Times review of the live performance at the Barbican, ‘His searing open vowels and tactile consonants brought anger and frustration to a brooding grief; his final yearning cry for Marguerite silenced the house.’ That comes over vividly on this superbly engineered recording.
As for Davis, the differences between his reading this time and in 1973 are ones of detail and refinement, for there is an extra lightness and resilience in the playing of the current LSO, as in Mephistopheles’ ‘Flea Song’, which is more wittily pointed than before. Often speeds flow a fraction more freely, as in the Ballet des sylphes, and the ‘Will-o’-the-wisp’ music brings phenomenally crisp ensemble. The little snarling flourishes which herald the arrival of Mephistopheles each time immediately have you sitting up, while the excitement generated in a number such as the Trio at the end of Part 3 leaves you breathless.
Michele Pertusi as Mephistopheles matches Sabbatini in the red-blooded fervour of his singing, weighty yet agile, and the Albanian soprano Enkelejda Shkosa is a warm, vibrant Marguerite, with a flicker in the voice giving a hint of the heroine’s vulnerability. Not just the LSO but the London Symphony Chorus, too, are in searing form, and the recording brings out the detail of Berlioz’s orchestration with ideal transparency, though the transfer is at rather a low level, needing fair amplifications for full impact. Potential rival recordings such as the larger-than-life Solti (Decca, 3/90 – nla) and the urgent Dutoit (Decca, 10/96 – nla) versions have been deleted, which leaves Gardiner’s as the only serious rival, though I find his performance far less involving. In any case it comes at full price where, like other issues in the LSO Live series, this new version comes at super-budget price, making it an astonishing bargain. Davis is given wonderfully refined sound, with any problems from the Barbican acoustic completely eliminated. The complete text is provided in the booklet, along with David Cairns’ authoritative notes, albeit in microscopic print