This, the last of Karajan’s opera recordings, is one of the most successful of his later contributions to the genre. This may be a reflective, older man’s view of the piece but it is none the worse for that: as I pointed out in my original review he and his cast seem to have spent fruitful hours re-examining the score, enabling them to shed new light on a familiar masterpiece in terms of dramatic impact and orchestral subtleties. From the luminous sound of the opening Prelude, the old wizard lavishes care on every strand of Verdi’s deft and pointed instrumentation and obeys the composer’s many shades of dynamics while never losing sight of the overall shape of the work: the results may at times be leisurely, but they are never dull. His famous control of legato and the moulding of a phrase into a convincing whole are everywhere in evidence, and the Vienna Philharmonic execute his exigent demands with all the considerable skill at their command.
His cast is strong though Barstow, then Karajan’s ‘new’ discovery, was and is a controversial Amelia. At Salzburg audiences very often came to sneer and went away enthralled. The admitted failings of an incipient wobble and some deterioration in the soprano’s tone by this stage of her long career are amply compensated for in terms of vocal and verbal insight. Again and again one notes the intelligence that has gone into creating a wholly individual reading of the part, something unusual and pleasurable in these days of standardized interpretation.
By Barstow’s side is Domingo, as the King, on his most refulgent form, singing the Ballatella and his part of the love duet with greater nuance than for Muti. Nucci’s Anckarstroem is the most telling of his Verdi assumptions on disc; he varies his tone nicely, is acute with his words and responsive to the character’s various changes of feeling, though Cappuccilli (Muti) still has the edge in the sense of being a true Verdi baritone. As Oscar, Sumi Jo is a delight from start to finish, a smile in her tone, a lilt in the interpretation. Quivar is a strong but not particularly individual Arvidson.
The recording is spacious and well balanced, voices never overruled by the orchestra. I still wouldn’t want to be without the classic Votto set; although it is distinctly dated in sound. Callas, Di Stefano and Gobbi, all on top form, are there to ensure its immortality. Muti’s version is no longer youthful as regards sound but in terms of interpretation it has the brio and vigour missing in the Karajan and a cast slightly superior all round to this DG reissue – which is not to deny the distinctive character of Karajan’s concept.'