This opera has had a strange history. Neglected for some 70 years, it was awoken from its long sleep by the kindly kisses of the conductors Serafin and Gui in the 1930s at successively the Metropolitan, La Scala and the Maggio Musicale in Florence. It gained ground in this country through the famous Sadler's Wells staging in 1948, since when it has been in the regular repertory of most major houses. On disc it has enjoyed a similar second coming. The very adequate Cetra set of 1951, part of the Italian Radio celebrations of that year, was soon superseded by the excellent 1957 version under consideration here. This was then followed by the above-mentioned Gavazzeni and Abbado versions on RCA and DG respectively, each of which I have admired and praised in recent years on their CD reissue. So it seems the work provokes inspired performance, except that the recent Decca version from Solti broke the spell.
Although the sound of this version, even in its refurbished state, is indifferent, as it was even for the standards of its day, it simply cannot be overlooked because it preserves two interpretations that are now of historic importance—Gobbi's Boccanegra and Christoff's Fiesco, the brothers-in-law (in real life) rivalling each other in projecting dramatic conviction. Even with Cappuccilli's superb reading in mind (he recorded Boccanegra both for Gavazzeni and Abbado), Gobbi's still remains definitive. Through his sensitive diction and fine gradations of tone he portrays unforgettably the Doge's changes of character, so unerringly delineated by Verdi himself, from unruly pirate to commanding Doge to loving father and, after the poisoning, to tragic hero. The weary acceptance and sad accents of the final scene match those of Cappuccilli in his equally moving interpretations, especially that on the Abbado set. Gobbi at the time was at the height of his vocal powers so that the often high tessitura bothers him little, though it is certainly true that Cappuccilli has still greater resources to call on.
Christoff may not have quite the vocal amplitude of Ghiaurov (DG), but his reading has more vocal character. His pungent, crisply articulated singing is ideally suited to the proud, implacable patrician Fiesco. His singing shades into deeply felt remorse in the final, conciliatory meeting with Boccanegra. If you want to judge the calibre of both portrayals you need look no further than the close of the Prologue and listen to Christoff's relishing of Boccanegra's discomfiture at ''L'ora suono del tuo castigo'' (''the hour of your punishment is at hand'') as Boccanegra discovers his beloved Maria is dead, followed by Gobbi's cry ''Si; spaventoso, atroce sogno il mio!'' (''Yes, a terrible and fearful dream is mine''), so eloquently accented.
Los Angeles is an Amelia very much in the mould of Ricciarelli (RCA), vulnerable in character, gentle and elegiac in voice with just a suggestion of strain in the highest register. Los Angeles's tone is actually clearer, more girlish than that of either of her rivals, and she is more adept than either of them at suggesting passion for Gabriele and a daughter's love for her father through her sensitive painting of words. She is quite exquisite in the downward runs in the final ensemble. Campora makes a likeable, fiery Gabriele more in the mould of Carrerras (DG) than Domingo (RCA). Monachesi is an imposing Paolo.
Neither Santini's conducting nor the playing of the Rome Opera Orchestra matches that of their La Scala counterparts (DG). Abbado's realization of this work is unlikely to be surpassed, though Gavazzeni's reading has much to commend it. The voices in this mono recording are more fairly caught than the chorus and orchestra, but there is a persistent though hardly disturbing tape hiss. EMI are to be castigated for not giving us any details about the performers or recording: surely in reissuing a 33-year-old set that has such historic importance they should blow their own trumpet a little. I wish, too, that they had retained the picture of Gobbi in the title-role as on the cover of the LP reissue (1977) rather than the portrait of him here in real life. That said, this is a set those interested in great recordings of Verdi operas must get (even if they may regret the needless cuts), whether or not they have either of the above recommendable stereo sets in their collection.'