Music featured in the film 'Shine'
View record and artist detailsRecord and Artist Details
Label: Magic Talent
Magazine Review Date: 9/1992
Media Format: CD or Download
Media Runtime: 0
Mastering:
Mono
ADD
Catalogue Number: CD48073

Author: Alan Blyth
I first encountered Levine conducting this work, one he particularly loves, at the Metropolitan in 1971, and was mightily impressed with his Verdian credentials. A youthful tenor called Domingo was the Rodolfo. Here they are, many years later, tackling their parts again, Domingo for the second time on disc: he is the Rodolfo on the Maazel/DG set. Energy and internal combustion were the special features of Levine reading in the theatre; they are again in evidence here—as recorded by Sony, almost to excess. You only have to listen to the second section of the Overture to realize Levine is to give a no-holds-barred reading. Exciting as that can be, too often the fire in the belly degenerates into an unwelcome blatancy, particularly when the recording of the orchestra is so close and aggressive, given a deal more prominence than the voices. In that same prelude one notices, with some surprise, a few moments of untidy string playing, the attack not so neat as it is on the Maag/Decca set. By contrast, Levine is inclined, as is his wont, to indulge in some unduly slow tempos—''Quando le sere al placido'', the elegiac tenor aria, and the start of the closing trio are cases in point. These suggest a flaccid sense of rhythm that his rivals quite avoid.
Domingo's Rodolfo is more or less as it was for Maazel—generous in tone and phrase, a little short on subtlety. This is the satisfying but generalized performance we are accustomed to from this ever-willing tenor. Many will not complain when the involvement is so obvious even if he sometimes seems in another acoustic from the orchestra (tracking on?). Maybe it is unkind to say that a tenor of the Schipa variety without Otello overtones is more suitable for Schiller's and Verdi's heart-broken hero. And that's what we have in the Pavarotti of 1975 for Maag, then at his most sweetly and engagingly lyrical.
As Luisa, Millo starts out somewhat squally and harsh of tone, but she improves immeasurably as the work progresses rising finely to the sad, doomed girl of Act 3. ''Ah! l'ultima preghiera'' is delivered in that plangent, piano tone of which we know she is mistress. A little earlier in the act, she and Vladimir Chernov draw all the tenderness and plaintive beauty out of ''Andro, raminghi e poveri'': this is Verdi singing of the highest class in both tone and feeling. But then Caballe (Maag) and Ricciarelli (Maazel) are just as appealing, Caballe more even of tone, Ricciarelli even more affecting than Millo. Choice between the three will very much depend on which prima donna's voice and style you prefer. All are appreciable Luisas.
Chernov must be the most accomplished Verdian baritone to appear since Bruson. His account of his opening aria and cabaletta, a wonderful chance for display of voice, line and attack, is given a performance that will surely satisfy the most stringest critic of matters vocal. The name of the noble Amato springs to mind: Chernov's tone is similarly dark in colour, vibrant and ringing, with not a trace of strain from top to bottom. Yet there is a chink or two in his armoury—his contribution to the aforementioned duet isn't always perfectly tuned, especially when set beside that of Bruson (Maazel) himself, who is also more successful than his younger colleague at suggesting paternal love and concern.
As the unyielding evil Wurm, Plishka tends to compensate for juddering tone with uncomfortable bluster. Van Allan (Maag), who used to sing the role at Covent Garden, is subtler and steadier. As Count Walter, Rootering again sounds uncannily like Gwynne Howell, who takes that part for Maazel: both sing it adequately without sounding as idiomatic as Maag's Giaiotti. Quivar is an adequate Federica.
Although I enjoyed the visceral excitement of this set, Millo's truly spinto tone and, above all, Chernov's debut in a major role on disc, the new version doesn't displace either the Decca (the better recorded) or DG in my affections. Between those two I have always found it hard to choose. This time, my comparisons led me marginally to prefer the DG for the superb partnership of Ricciarelli and Bruson when both in their prime, catching the essence of the piece, but if Rodolfo is the most important character for you in the opera, then your choice will be the Decca.'
Domingo's Rodolfo is more or less as it was for Maazel—generous in tone and phrase, a little short on subtlety. This is the satisfying but generalized performance we are accustomed to from this ever-willing tenor. Many will not complain when the involvement is so obvious even if he sometimes seems in another acoustic from the orchestra (tracking on?). Maybe it is unkind to say that a tenor of the Schipa variety without Otello overtones is more suitable for Schiller's and Verdi's heart-broken hero. And that's what we have in the Pavarotti of 1975 for Maag, then at his most sweetly and engagingly lyrical.
As Luisa, Millo starts out somewhat squally and harsh of tone, but she improves immeasurably as the work progresses rising finely to the sad, doomed girl of Act 3. ''Ah! l'ultima preghiera'' is delivered in that plangent, piano tone of which we know she is mistress. A little earlier in the act, she and Vladimir Chernov draw all the tenderness and plaintive beauty out of ''Andro, raminghi e poveri'': this is Verdi singing of the highest class in both tone and feeling. But then Caballe (Maag) and Ricciarelli (Maazel) are just as appealing, Caballe more even of tone, Ricciarelli even more affecting than Millo. Choice between the three will very much depend on which prima donna's voice and style you prefer. All are appreciable Luisas.
Chernov must be the most accomplished Verdian baritone to appear since Bruson. His account of his opening aria and cabaletta, a wonderful chance for display of voice, line and attack, is given a performance that will surely satisfy the most stringest critic of matters vocal. The name of the noble Amato springs to mind: Chernov's tone is similarly dark in colour, vibrant and ringing, with not a trace of strain from top to bottom. Yet there is a chink or two in his armoury—his contribution to the aforementioned duet isn't always perfectly tuned, especially when set beside that of Bruson (Maazel) himself, who is also more successful than his younger colleague at suggesting paternal love and concern.
As the unyielding evil Wurm, Plishka tends to compensate for juddering tone with uncomfortable bluster. Van Allan (Maag), who used to sing the role at Covent Garden, is subtler and steadier. As Count Walter, Rootering again sounds uncannily like Gwynne Howell, who takes that part for Maazel: both sing it adequately without sounding as idiomatic as Maag's Giaiotti. Quivar is an adequate Federica.
Although I enjoyed the visceral excitement of this set, Millo's truly spinto tone and, above all, Chernov's debut in a major role on disc, the new version doesn't displace either the Decca (the better recorded) or DG in my affections. Between those two I have always found it hard to choose. This time, my comparisons led me marginally to prefer the DG for the superb partnership of Ricciarelli and Bruson when both in their prime, catching the essence of the piece, but if Rodolfo is the most important character for you in the opera, then your choice will be the Decca.'
Discover the world's largest classical music catalogue with Presto Music.

Gramophone Digital Club
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Full website access
From £8.75 / month
Subscribe
Gramophone Full Club
- Print Edition
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Full website access
From £11.00 / month
Subscribe
If you are a library, university or other organisation that would be interested in an institutional subscription to Gramophone please click here for further information.