Collections of 'great singers' in music such as this normally attract me just about as much as nineteenth-century stained-glass, which is not to deny that there may, here and there, be an example which is good of its kind. Assorted Ave Marias arranged in a variety of sanctimonious ways do not, on the whole, raise the spirits, nor do they bring out the best in the 'great singers'. If a single category of recordings among Caruso's out-put had to be sacrificed, it would certainly be the 'sacred songs and arias', ''Cujus animam'' among them, though I'd try to save the Crucifix on the specious plea that it is a duet. That once-famous and still haunting piece draws from Caruso perhaps his most beautiful entry on records: after the sombre majesty of Journet's solo, Caruso's voice enters with such ease and sweetness that even when one is prepared for it it still takes one by surprise. But ''Cujus animam'' has him broadening and coarsening the vowels (the 'i' sounds), lifting with effort to the first A flat, aspirating the dotted notes, then singing magnificently in the middle section, only to make heavy weather of the reprise. One thing: this is a particularly bright forward transfer and it does show the high D flat to have more body to it than used to be heard and it is taken with impressive security and precision.
Anyway: what reconciled me to the prospect ahead was the inclusion of Florence Austral singing Rossini's ''Inflammatus'' a performance the glories of which are made doubly clear by this transfer which has triumphed over the gunge and crackle that in the original usually add their accompaniment to that of Barbirolli and the Covent Garden Chorus and Orchestra. Then old Peter Dawson, and ''Why do the nations?'', so solid yet so fluent so vigorous yet so refined in its rejection of vocal bad-manners. There's Schorr deeply moved by Elijah's prayer, Pinza wearing the sensuous richness of his voice with such dignity, Bjorling as near to the perfection of his art in 1938 as ever in later years: all of these are heard with gratitude, and, it must be said some emotion. The sheer sound of Gigli, Robeson and Thill can be added. Ah, and Isobel Baillie: just a trifle piercing as reproduced here but so pure and true and accomplished. And of course Chaliapin, with those 'profondissimi' Russian basses in the choir chanting away on the bottom F.
A small grumble about presentation (Tony Watts's judidous notes apart). The listing is not very scrupulous. ''Ave Maria (J. S. Bach arr. Gounod)'' will not do (it sounds as though Bach is responsible for the melody and Gounod for the awful things done by the women's chorus). ''J. S. Bach'' after ''Jesu, joy of man's desiring'' is not really right either (he didn't write it that way). Then if ''Stabat Mater: Rossini'' means what we think it does what does ''Franck: Gazzera-Grossi'' meaniThen (an old one), the composer of Crucifix is not Faure but Faure, and ''With verdue clad'' (Die Schopfung) suggests an apparel of mildew laced with verdigris.'