Although Britten talked excitedly while composing Paul Bunyan about a Broadway production, it was in fact carefully written for the sort of forces - students, semi-professionals and amateurs - who gave the 'operetta' its premiere in New York in 1941. It was also written for Americans; W H Auden's text has a sharp ear for American idiom. Here the work receives a full-bloodedly operatic performance by a largely British cast making brave attempts at American vowels. Apart from Kenneth Cranham in the title-role the only member of the cast who completely avoids sounding like Stan Laurel is Kurt Streit who, like many American opera singers, modifies his vowel-sounds in the opposite direction when singing in English.
This is a live performance (lots of stage noise, laughter and applause) and many of the singers are so intent on projecting to the rearmost seat in the gallery that they force their voices. This and the nasality of his assumed accent force Timothy Robinson to make harsher sounds than we know he is capable of, Susan Gritton emphasises the operatic quality of Tiny's music but at the expense of a purity of sound that would have made her touching, while Jeremy White presses his voice into distressingly unsteady plumminess. Streit is also quite forceful earlier on, but relaxes into lyricism later, Lilian Watson has no need to force as the delightfully soubrettish Fido, but most of the cast could have taken a lesson or two from that master of vocal economy Francis Egerton. Never pushing his voice, never attempting a phony accent (he relies on his native Irish) he makes the mock bel canto of his role both extremely funny and engagingly elegant.
Nor does Peter Coleman-Wright force his voice in the ballad interludes, but his is a robust baritone where a folk-singer is clearly needed, and his diction is 90 per cent clear where nothing less than 100 per cent will do. I am sorry to be harsh about a performance into which everyone has obviously put heart and soul, not least Richard Hickox, who conducts with infectious enthusiasm. The choral scenes all go well; so do many of the ensembles. The richness of this long-hidden score is everywhere apparent, though, and that's the main thing, but those who already have Philip Brunelle's recording (Virgin Classics, 8/88 - nla), using mainly student and semi-professional singers, should treasure it: it comes far closer to the fresh and touching directness of Paul Bunyan than this strenuous newcomer. Microphone placing was obviously a problem with Francesca Zambello's hyperactive production, and although the action is vividly present there is some congestion.'