It seems a long time since we heard from Teresa Berganza live, as opposed to on a reissue. The last new record of hers to come my way for review was in 1984 and evoked even then a response which had a valedictory tone about it. And yet, as many readers will know, she can still be good value in the concert hall, where her voice has an uncanny ability to expand in proportion to the auditorium. The present disc was made in 2000 – that is, in her 65th or 66th year. This is to be borne in mind, for otherwise some of her louder, upper tones might prompt unsympathetic comment while the surviving beauty of her quieter singing might go under-appreciated. Most of the songs as performed here have something of both qualities in them: a passage of delicate, warm-toned quietness and then a forte which comes out with the not-entirely pleasing power of a very senior choirboy.
Singing, of course, involves more than the voice, and Berganza is on intimate terms with her songs, knows their moods, responds to what is hesitant or impulsive, and expresses their jollity, tenderness and heartache. She rarely seems to make the voice smile, and that is a limitation in several of the songs, though perhaps the very Spanish dignity of her utterance compensates somewhat.
Anyway, the record has another centre of interest. The Conjunto Iberico Cello Octet are a remarkable group, the creation of Elias Arizcuren who, with Niko Ravenstijn, has arranged for them the song-accompaniments and the Suite from El amor brujo. All are splendidly played, but the great point is that they suit, and in fact enhance, the songs wonderfully well. The declamatory opening of the first ‘Maja dolorosa’ gains in intensity, and the scoring of the second brings out a range of colours beyond the scope of the piano. These, I would say, are the real grounds for recommendation. It should be added that the company has gone to some trouble over the production of an attractive booklet, and that the recorded sound has clarity and presence