In his review in March 1984 of Leo Nucci's previous solo recording for Decca, a recital of Verdi arias, AB found that the singer lacked the gift ''of re-awakening interest in a pasage that has become perhaps over-familiar''. The arias required ''a varying of the emotional response that Nucci's externalized readings can't quite conjure up''. Alan Blyth was too conscientious a critic to say 'this record is a bore' and leave it at that, but I remember that this was my own feeling at the time. Now this new recital certainly isn't to be dismissed in those terms. None of its contents can be called over-familiar, for a start, but even if they were there is a very good chance that the listener could, in this instance, find a re-awakened interest. The emotional response is impressive in its sincerity, and perhaps the greatest strength of the singing is its variety, or rather its sensitivity to changing moods in words and music. It is to my mind Nucci's most distinguished work in the recording studios to date.
That said, it also has to be admitted that of the vanous comparisons tried none very decisively favoured Nucci. In the Puritani aria Giuseppe de Luca's old record shows immediately a better schooled evenness and grace, while in the standard LP complete recordings of the opera both Panerai and Cappuccilli are cleaner in style. Monforte's moving appeal in I vespri siciliani was a favourite with Heinrich Schlusnus, and with him we hear not only a more finely textured voice but well-supported piano singing rather than the somewhat breathy microphone-voice used here. ''O Lisbona'' recalls Battistini and he is the real master, the tone compact and defined, the style bold and imaginative, the sense of a personal presence vivid and compelling. None of these singers has Nucci's bad habit of 'lifting' to notes from below and I doubt whether any of them would be capabie of the rough start to the Duca d'Alba aria or the aspirating and loss of focus as ''Vien, Leonora'' develops.
Yet what Nucci does bring as a distinctive contribution in all these comparisons is a quality which some listeners may well consider more valuable than the vocal refinements: namely a sympathetic, understanding humanity. Returning to the Puritani aria, one can hardly listen without resorting to the printed text—not because the words are unclear but because they are sung in a way that makes it imperative to know their full meaning and context (which the booklet is at fault in not supplying along with the texts and translations). The recitative softens longingly and the aria has a sadness not captured in the other performances mentioned. Quite strikingly vivid and specific is the Guglielmo Tell aria, the line about the flight of the arrow being pictorial and the climactic phrases impressing their meaning with intense conviction. In the solo from Beatrice di Tenda he has again genuinely entered the character, which he illuminates more effectively than I can recall in the two complete recordings of that opera. Nucci's purely vocal resources, too, are by no means inconsiderable, especially in the bright, strong upper register. He is also well served by his accompaniments and by the recording team. The performances may not stand as models of the bel canto style, but they do have something to say about the bel canto repertoire.'