If we had no other evidence of Callas’s art than these two awkwardly recorded performances from 1951 of the diva singing Verdi we would surely recognise a singer of genius. The 27-year-old soprano shows again and again her gift for going to the emotional heart of what she sings and then translating that, through her vocal command, into uniquely affecting sounds. As Elena, a role she obviously cherished as she was still singing extracts from it on her last tour in 1973, she brings distinction to a performance of Vespri that is otherwise a bit of a curate’s egg – as is the opera itself. In her Act 1 aria, the words ‘il vostro fato e in vostro mano’, the final phrase repeated, are given dark significance. In both duets with Arrigo, she delivers lyrical phrases with a pure, eloquent line, in particular in the Act 4 piece the solo starting ‘Arrigo, ah parli a un cor’, which Verdi might have written with Callas in mind so suited is it to her voice. Then her entry in the ensuing quartet has a plangency to it exactly appropriate to the emotions being expressed.
Apart from Callas we can admire Christoff’s imposing Procida, ‘O tu Palermo’ sung with exemplary line and feeling, but neither baritone or tenor, father or son, is sung with any special distinction. Kleiber conducts a work he admired with the right vigour but permits too many disfiguring cuts.
Callas’s first recorded Violetta, a performance new to me, is better than I had been led to expect by other critics’ comments. More than in her later, more detailed portrayals of Violetta, Callas lets us feel the youthful spontaneity of the vulnerable heroine, nowhere more so than in her Act 1 aria and cabaletta. In pristine voice she vocalises this, indeed the entire role, with supreme confidence. Partnered by the equally youthful Valletti, their two duets are sung with the intimacy intended by Verdi: his interpretation – as when he sang Alfredo at Covent Garden in 1958, as I recall – is a model for the part. Add Taddei as a warm, sympathetic, stylish Germont and you have the elements of a deeply satisfying performance. Fabritiis conducts with care for the instrumentation and the welfare of his singers, but allows too many excisions. Pity about the execrable sound; pity, also, that Archipel tells us absolutely nothing about the provenance of the performance or offers any comment on it.
I derived much pleasure from both issues, especially the Traviata, but the intending purchaser, unless he or she is a Callas addict, should sample the wares before buying