The text here is that used for the opera's premiere, and in the present state of play there is a good deal to be said for it. It has spoken dialogue, including the first exchange between Carmen and Don Jose unaccountably omitted in most performances, both earlier and later. As far as I know, it is the only recording to find room for the 'Pantomime' in Act 1, a charming and teasingly allusive episode in which the pursuit of love is comically observed by Morales and the soldiers. The longer and dramatically superior version of Jose and Escamillo's encounter in Act 3 affords another gain, and several short passages prove to be further welcome additions to the standard text.
The recording also preserves Jon Vickers's Jose. A few years later his singing of the part had thickened, but here in 1969 there is refinement and grace as well as the passionate conviction that was always so strong in his art. The Micaela, Mirella Freni, fusses her aria a bit too much but is intent on conveying its meaning: if her Italianate French is not found too bothersome, she will often approach the ideal, for her tone is pure, steady and ample. Paskalis as Escamillo and the singers of the secondary roles are all acceptable. Bumbry's Carmen, vocally gorgeous in the contralto register, lacks character—not always, but too often. That and the frequent failure to match the actors' voices with the singers' constitute the main weaknesses of the set.
Fruhbeck de Burgos conducts with feeling for dramatic tension as for orchestral texture. Production, slipping up on the co-ordination of music and drama, nevertheless achieves some vivid effects, and the recorded sound comes up well. The Solti (Decca) and Abbado (DG) sets remain my own recommended versions, and of course the Beecham/Los Angeles (EMI) and Karajan/Price (RCA) have their special place, not to mention Callas for Pretre (EMI). But this has its claims too, strengthened no doubt by the fact that it is on two discs instead of three.'