On paper this hardly looks a version competitive with those listed above; in the event it has much to offer, which only shows how dangerous preconceptions can be. In fact this is the first version since the 31-year-old Karajan that has voices of the traditional dimensions for the three principal roles, and each of the three singers offers a formidable performance. Murgu is a Romanian tenor who has sung his Otello in many famous houses. He has the measure of the role, both vocally and dramatically, presenting in tone and declamation the power and then the inner anguish of the seemingly wronged Moor. Here is a man who one can readily imagine as a commanding general and an overpowering lover, also as quick-tempered, easily aroused to jealousy, one who declaims his Farewell to Arms with the appropriate panache and is terrifying in his Act 3 outbursts. Everything in Murgu's performance is felt, and the tear in the voice, so essential to the part, is there. So is a deal of subtlety in the more reflective parts of the love duet and the monologue. Against that are moments when he strays too far from the printed note in striving for that extra frisson of feeling and resorts to a delivery that stays only just the right side of being coarse. As a whole the reading calls to mind that of Del Monaco (Karajan/Decca), and is none the worse for that, but misses the better manners of Pavarotti (Solti/Decca) and Domingo (Maazel/EMI).
Bruson makes a splendid partner for this Otello. You sense that this is a mean, vindictive man from the start of his scheming, also a clever and strong one as he gradually catches his prey in his snares. All the variety and wit, also the musical sense, I found wanting in Nucci (Decca) is displayed here, placing Bruson almost in the class of Tibbett (Panizza/Music and Arts) and Valdengo (Toscanini/RCA) in the two historic sets recently issued on CD, and—like those baritones—Bruson has precisely the weight the role calls for. That can also be said of Guleghina as Desdemona. At first I was delighted in the breadth and fullness of her singing, but after a while I missed any sense of Desdemona's inner vulnerability or much nuance, particularly in her Act 4 scena. Some may find troublesome the beat that sometimes afflicts her tone. Still it is good to hear the music again filled with the spinto sound Tebaldi brought to it (Decca).
Apart from a mettlesome Emilia in Gisella Pasino the smaller roles are filled with indifferent singers. Kuhn's direction has accuracy and breadth on its side, and also just speeds, but something of the incandescence this score calls for is missing. Nor do his choral forces always suggest that they are home in the idiom. The orchestra is better suited. The live recording shows few signs of an audience present and is evenly balanced between voices and orchestra. As a whole, in spite of the splendour of much of the singing, this can't quite replace present recommendations, particularly those in the historic field, but I am sure it thrilled the audience in the Suntory Hall a year ago and I shall return to it from time to time for its visceral force and its sense of a tension well sustained.'