Each new encounter with this increases not simply respect (that was high from the start) but affection – and not just for the recording but for the opera itself. This is partly an effect of opera-in-English, at any rate in such a very human opera as Traviata, and Edmund Tracey’s translation also improves on reacquaintance (‘I wonder’ used to seem a terrible substitute for ‘E strano’ but it now seems natural enough in context). It is also partly a testimony to the imaginative freshness with which all details of the performance have been approached. The choruses, which usually sound like so much well-rehearsed routine, are alive with intelligent responsiveness. Similarly, Mackerras does not allow the orchestra to take anything for granted, not even the ultimate rom-pom-pom.
Valerie Masterson’s Violetta is infinitely touching, not only through her expressiveness but perhaps primarily because the music is so scrupulously sung. Her staccatos, triplets and arpeggios in the first duet are so cleanly placed; her gradations of tone in the great solo are so finely judged; her control of the soft high notes in the last Act’s farewell is so clearly that of a singer who knows that, whatever the fashionable cant to the contrary, singing comes first. Sensitivity and study have added the rest, and the result is simply one of the most satisfying accounts of the role on records.
If there is a limitation it lies in the want of richer tonal resources, and this is true also of the Alfredo, John Brecknock. Christian du Plessis as the father sounds not quite so firm and even in his production; good, however, in rounding off the two verses of his famous song. Della Jones and Denis Dowling bring their minor roles to life, and indeed there is not much by way of weakness in the whole of this heart-warming production.'