Once again a new set is faced with much-admired competition, once again, in spite of considerable merits, it fails to dislodge old favourites. Eva Marton, as we know from her other opera recordings possesses a voice of power and warmth which she can use with a deal of flexibility. Gioconda is obviously a role with which she closely identifies. Throughout, her portrayal of the unhappy, jealous Gioconda is histrionically strong and involving and she rides the climaxes in a way Caballe (Bartoletti/Decca) couldn't quite manage: this is the true spinto sound of which we hear far too little today. But beside either Caballe or Callas (Votto/EMI), Marton tends to be generalized in her emotional response: the feelings are always there, but they are expressed in huge wodges of tone, seldom with much variation of tone-colour or insights into the meaning of the text. You need only compare her with Callas in the vital passage of recitative following ''Suicidio!'' (which Marton sings with broad, acute phrasing) to hear how very much more Callas makes of the words, really letting us share Gioconda's awful predicament. Later in this all-important final act, in the duet with Enzo, the phrases ''L'estatico sorriso, l'estatico sospiro!'' are penny plain with Marton, alight with inner yearning from Callas. Marton's is a performance I enjoyed on its own level, but there is more in the role than she has yet imagined.
Her Enzo was to have been Domingo but he had to cancel because of a bereavement. I am not altogether disappointed because Lamberti offers us a particular style in tenor singing that is almost lost, specifically Italianate in timbre and recalling di Stefano. His tone is always open and bright, he sings off the words, and he phrases with an innate ardour that's just right for the part. He manages some nice pianissimos sings ''Cielo e mar'' with a long breath, and leais the Third Act concertato ''Gia ti veggo'' with a properly plaintive tone. He has almost as much voice as Ferraro (Votto) and is much more subtle. For better and worse, he isn't Pavarotti (Bartoletti), but I took to his reading. Milnes's Barnaba remains a well thought-through portrait of unmitigated villainy. He was in marginally steadier voice for Bartoletti on Decca, but the performance is still one of his most telling. Livia Budai, like her Hungarian compatriot Marton, doesn't care to make much of the text but the voice is as vibrant as any in this role: Cossotto (Votto) has the edge simply through being Italian. Ramey makes much of little as Alvise. Anne Gjevang is a steady La Cieca, and gives her solo the grave beauty it deserves.
The biggest drawback to this set is the conducting of the late Giuseppe Patane, which is laboured and uninspiring, with speeds for all the main numbers that are just a shade too slow. He picks up some of the drama in Act 4, but by then it's a little late. The Hungarian orchestra play well for him, especially in the Dance of the Hours, but the chorus sound not in the least Italianate and the smaller parts are inadequately taken—Legge made sure he had the right comprimarios for his Votto version. Nor is the recording on the new CBS satisfactory. The orchestra are too reverberant and recessed for my taste, and the soloists seem to move disconcertingly between tracks, or perhaps it's between sessions.
If you want the best all-round version Callas (in one of her most convincing roles) and her associates must be your choice Votto's conducting is more vital than Patane's. If you want more modern sound, and a carefully prepared, often compelling performance, try the Bartoletti, not so heart-rending as the Votto, but highly enjoyable.'