It would be an impossible task to devise a gala concert which would fully represent the achievement of EMI over a 100 years, even just the vocal side. This one, highly enjoyable, boldly uses a good proportion of young singers, and happily ends a nicely varied, undemanding programme in a blaze of glory, capturing the champagne atmosphere so important to such an event.
The party starts well with Bernstein’s Candide Overture, given a breezily rhythmic reading by Andrew Davis. He then hands over to Franz Welser-Most for the greater part of the programme, before returning for the last half-dozen items. After the overture the party atmosphere is intensified by Nicolai Gedda’s impersonation of Count Danilo in Lehar’s Merry Widow. The once-golden voice may no longer be more than a croak in places, but this is the authentic Viennese tradition assumed by a master. It was Gedda after all who sang that role (rather than the more usual baritone) in the second of the recordings of the operetta made by Schwarzkopf, one of Walter Legge’s most masterly productions (EMI, 4/86). Inevitably comparisons start coming up, and though it would be unkind to set Barbara Hendricks directly against Schwarzkopf in the other Lehar number – “Meine Lippen, sie kussen” from Giuditta, strong rather than delicate – that merely points the impossibility of regarding gala performances like these as the last word.
Hendricks is not helped by being followed by Natalie Dessay in what proves the most rousing item of all, Cunegonde’s ironic “Glitter and be gay” from Candide, the lament that keeps getting out of hand in jollity. That hilarious performance, with Dessay dazzling in the lightest of coloratura, leads on to Angela Gheorghiu and Roberto Alagna in the love duet from Massenet’s Manon. That is magically done, refined and sensitive as well as sensuously beautiful, a wonderful musical climax and not an obvious choice of final item. Rounding off the fun comes an elaborate version of Happy birthday to you, “arranged Davis” (Andrew), with fluttering Britten-like entries from the soloists in turn to a rather doleful first run-through, before the big ensemble takes over fortissimo with joyful fanfares accompanying.
The only serious reservation to be made is that the microphone is not always kind to these voices, tending to exaggerate vibratos and any hint of strain, so that though both Ann Murray and John Mark Ainsley are formidably assured in tackling demanding Handel numbers, the voices are not very sweet, certainly not under pressure. Amanda Roocroft, too, has sounded sweeter and firmer than this in Rusalka’s invocation to the moon, but Alison Hagley produces what are arguably the loveliest sounds of all, with ravishing silvery tone in Nannetta’s Fairy song from Verdi’s Falstaff. That is preceded by the other Falstaff item, Ford’s aria, sung with biting vehemence by Thomas Hampson, another high spot in the programme.
Dame Felicity Lott is charmingly provocative in the Messager aria originally recorded by EMI with Yvonne Printemps, while other items to single out are the two arias from Die Zauberflote – Ian Bostridge singing with heady tone in “Dies Bildnis” and Olaf Bar buoyant as Papageno in “Der Vogelfanger”. And Willard White, rounding off the first half of the programme, could not be more powerful in “Ol’ man river” from Show Boat, reminding one of his Porgy. The excellent acoustic of the new Glyndebourne Opera House is generally helpful, with voices well forward to the orchestra, and with applause mercifully tailored to length.'