This is a must for all Tauber enthusiasts—indeed, for anyone interested in the history of singing on disc—as it houses many of the great tenor’s most prized records, by and large excellently transferred, and avoiding the portion of dross that is usually included on Tauber reissues. Here are some of the most rewarding of his Mozart performances, including the rare 1922 Bildnisarie, sovereign in tone and style, the wonderful Hoffmann solos, where the heady voice and ardent manner are at their most compelling, and souvenirs of two of his most winning stage portrayals—Wilhelm Meister and Jenik (Hans here). The items from The bartered bride are interesting in comparison with the ‘complete’ 1939 performance reviewed in the February issue. The approach, 20 years earlier, is warmer, the style a shade more restrained. In the duet he is joined by Rethberg: both artists sing with a line and intimacy of manner to delight the most fastidious connoisseur. The pair are heard even more gratefully in the Butterfly duet. In spite of the German translation, this is one of the most enjoyable performances of this much-recorded passage, with both singers so musical yet so involved.
Equally recommendable are the Turandot solos. Again, one notices Tauber’s aristocracy of phrasing, his unwillingness to play to the gallery. He just touches the high B in “Nessun dorma”, as Puccini intended, rather than holding on to it in the modern manner. Lensky’s aria receives one of its most heartfelt readings—and how few Russian tenors, for all their command of the idiom and the original language, match Tauber’s warm, appealing tone and distinction of phrase. In the famous duet from Die tote Stadt Tauber is joined by his Vienna compatriot, Lotte Lehmann; I have never heard the voices, in other transfers, sound so forward and fresh, and the aria from the same opera finds the tenor in glorious voice. Szell, no less, is the conductor here as he is in the Turandot items. Walther was never one of Tauber’s stage roles, and he lacks the heroic ring for it, but such lyrical fervour has its own justification. By the time he recorded the Mehul item in 1945 the voice had dried out somewhat, but the personal style had lost nothing of its power to command attention.
On the whole EMI have done wonders with often intractable Odeon originals, but on three items—“Il mio tesoro”, “O Dieu! de quelle ivresse” and “Am stillen Herd”—the computer has introduced unwanted, disembodied noises, and the last-named also suffers from distortion. Elsewhere the sound is admirably open, allowing Tauber’s voice to ring out full and true into your home—and what more pleasing sound can there be than that!'