Containing, as it does, more of Respighi's best music for solo voice than is presently available on any other single disc, this record should deserve recommendation. At least, one should be able to commend it to listeners who like or think they might come to like these bitter-sweet settings of self-regarding poets. Mind, the trouble is that one cannot always be sure whether one is in that category or not: for myself, I think I could be content with the lack of strong, committed melody (as opposed to general melodiousness) if the underlying form were more clearly defined, and I could dispense with a consciousness of structure if the pervasive lyricism sometimes allowed itself to indulge in something as plebeian as a tune. It's the in-betweenness of it all that leaves me dissatisfied—and yet at the same time, sweettoothed and ever hopeful for revelation, I can't quite leave it.
But this is by the way, the immediate, rather sad point being that the young singer's voice appears to be already out of condition. There is (as recorded) an edge, and an edginess, that should not be present to spoil the sound of a voice that at the time of recording had had only three or four years of professional singing. The 'edge' is a somewhat harsh upper layer that seems to have formed over what must have been a voice of good quality; the edginess is an intermittent unsteadiness, nothing that can yet be called a wobble or a beat, but which nevertheless is not firm and even in production. This drives us to comparisons, in La sensitiva (Virgin Classics) and Aretusa with Dame Janet Baker (see above), both in recent recordings, and in Il tramonto with Linda Finnie (Chandos). All tell the same tale as far as the singing is concerned, and they also impress as being better in other ways: more decisive, clearer in detail, and rather better recorded.
The remaining work, the D'Annunzio settings, is unique to this recording in that the conductor, a Respighi specialist, has arranged it for an interesting and apt combination of instruments (harp, harpsichord, celesta, piano and strings). They go well. Some of the scoring is clearly suggested in the original accompaniments (harp for the arpeggios of the first song, for instance, harpsichord for the old aria recollected in the fourth). Other points are sheer gain (the violins sustaining the lyrical conclusion of ''La Najade'' and so forth). It also happens that the singer is more individual and expressive in these; thankfully, therefore, there is something for recommendation after all.'