Lanza, Callinicos, and Hugo Wolf

[Derek McGovern]

In his book Mario Lanza: Tenor in Exile, Roland Bessette uses a quote from Callinicos' biography to back up his thesis that Mario simply coasted on the same old recital program, rather than bothering to learn new material. "Those Hugo Wolf songs I don't know from nothing!" Mario supposedly protested to Callinicos after learning that three Wolf lieder had been added to his program for a recital in Centralia, Illinois on 19 May 1949. In his book, Callinicos implies that Mario never performed the songs, and even used their imposition on his program as an excuse (to his accompanist) for cancelling the recital. Bessette, as usual, treats Callinicos' words as gospel --- gravely asserting that Lanza was an "irresponsible" artist who "rather than learn his craft, or with regard [to the Wolf songs] compromise and vary the program, retreated to drink...". Opera Quarterly, in its 2000 review of Bessette's book, gleefully jumped on the "Hugo Wolf" quote, citing it as further evidence that Lanza could not be taken seriously as an artist. 

Well, thanks to the tremendous research efforts of Steff Walzinger, we now know for sure that not only did Mario sing the three Wolf lieder on at least three occasions during his March--May 1949 tour with Callinicos, but that this supposedly lazy artist also performed Giordani's "Caro Mio Ben" at those same recitals. What's more, contrary to Callinicos' claims, the Wolf songs---like "Caro Mio Ben"---were never on Lanza's program during that tour! In other words, he sang these numbers simply because he wanted to. Moreover, one of the venues at which he performed the four songs was Zanesville, Ohio, on 25 March 1949. This is ironic, since it's the one recital on that tour for which Callinicos goes to the trouble of listing all the numbers that he claims Lanza sang that night----and yet he (conveniently?) omits the three Wolf songs and "Caro Mio Ben." (In fact, many of the pieces he lists weren't even included that night. Contrary to Bessette's assumption, Lanza often departed from his printed program.) 

How do we know this? Because three newspaper reviews of the recital mention the four songs, with one even singling out Lanza's performance of "Caro Mio Ben" for its "exquisite sustained legato" and another noting the seasonal appropriateness of one of the Wolf numbers, "Song to Spring." Reviewing Lanza's recital in Troy, New York, music critic Keith Marvin wrote that "Secrecy" and "The Forsaken Maiden" were performed "very nicely," while "Song to Spring" was sung "exceptionally well" (Troy Record, 7 April 1949).

Mario also sang these four songs at a very well-received recital on 11 April 1949 in Kingston, N.Y., a city 91 miles north of New York City. Yet Callinicos in his book not only fails to mention this recital, which he accompanied Lanza at, but he omits an even more prestigious event just three days later: a concert with New York City Opera dramatic soprano Suzy Morris at the Waldorf-Astoria---the only occasion on which Mario performed in New York City (apart from his chorus work in Winged Victory). Perhaps Callinicos omitted the latter event out of spite, since he was not the accompanying artist on that occasion; the celebrated piano-duo of sisters Toni and Rosi Grunschlag were instead. (Again, a million thanks to Steff for discovering this info, and to Lee Ann for confirming the date of the concert.)

These events are significant because Callinicos' description of the 1949 tour is a sustained attack on Mario's professionalism---lazy, resentful artist, annoyed at singing at venues he considered beneath him, etc---and his claims have been faithfully repeated by both Mannering and Bessette in their books. But if both these authors had dug a little deeper, they surely would have discovered the glaring inconsistencies in Callinicos' claims. 

For instance, much has been made of Callinicos' assertion that Lanza "ducked out of" fifteen of the 27 recitals he was supposedly scheduled to sing on that tour. Yet in his book, Callinicos only lists seventeen venues, and claims that the cancelled concert of May 19th was Lanza's tenth cancellation before the final recital of May 25th, which he asserts was also cancelled. That makes eleven cancellations.  But Callinicos claims there were fifteen. How, then, did Lanza manage to cancel an additional four recitals between May 20 and 24?!! He would never have scheduled so many recitals in such a short period. Throw in the fact that Callinicos fails to include the Kingston, New York and Waldorf-Astoria concerts, and one really has to wonder about his motives, as well as his accuracy. (Speaking of which, he even claims in his book that Mario, feeling guilty about cancelling his concert of May 19th, drunkenly sought to make amends with him by promising that he could conduct for his first commercial recordings for RCA. But this event, with Callinicos conducting, had already taken place in New York City two weeks earlier!)

Getting back to the Wolf songs, in addition to "Song to Spring" (or "Spring Has Come," as one reviewer called it), Lanza performed "Secrecy" and "The Forsaken Maiden." All three were sung in English translations of the original German. What wouldn't I give to have heard him sing these songs (along with "Caro Mio Ben")! Lanza sings lieder---who'd have thought he would have taken the time to learn such departures from his usual program? Certainly not any of Bessette's unsuspecting readers.

"The Forsaken Maiden" ("Das verlassene Mägdlein") is actually rather beautiful, especially in the hands of rising German lyric soprano Lilli Wünscher. You can listen to her version here---and weep that no recording of Lanza performing it exists :)

Cheers

Derek

[Derek McGovern]

A P.S. to the above: the reviews for the Zanesville and Kingston recitals---along with a ton of other fascinating reviews and articles from throughout Lanza's career---will be posted in our Lanza and the Press section later this year. An essay on Lanza's concert career is also in the works. We'll let you know when everything's ready.

[leeann]

Hi Derek and all.

I just love this stuff.

The digital world is pretty exciting. 

It's been so amazing, for example, to follow Vince di Placido's  work on YouTube and on Mario Lanza, Tenor, to see Lanza's concert appearances and interviews.

And now the digitization and accessibility of smaller, local newspapers is opening up insights  that give even greater weight and breadth to the extent of Lanza's musical persona--information that would've been so hard or expensive to track down even a couple of years ago.

These non-syndicated press reports not only talk about the program, but also about his interaction with the audience, about the local conditions of the concert. Again and again they emphasize his warmth, his musicality, and his flexibility. Basically, they loved him--even when Of course, they do tend to repeat the same biographical facts--or to embellish them with a little creativity (Lanza's mother is pretty consistently given Spanish origin, for example--go figure).

We get a better idea of context, I guess you could say. Lanza's concerts were part of the vibrant cultural life of cities and towns across the country, and it's fascinating to see that the Bel Canto trio and  solo Lanza concerts occurred under the auspices, too, of universities and community concert associations which were building the arts in their respective locations, but which certainly didn't have money to waste or burn. They had to book sure bets--artists who were good enough to sell tickets and fill auditoriums. And the 1940 concerts, of course, pre-dated Lanza's fame in films.

So, these newspaper snippets tell us more about Lanza but also a bit more about the communities, towns and cities where he sang.

Very cool, but finding this information can be tremendously tedious. It's awfully nice that Steff has the time and the interest to track down and to share these things.

BTW--Armando contributed the Honolulu program that lists the Hugo Wolf lieder and it's under Musical Memorabilia on the Scrapbook page. Best, Lee Ann

PS. Artists of all genres give the same concerts again and again, from town to town and even from decade to decade. To say it's indicative of failure to learn really seems more indicative of failure to learn on the part of the biographer? The Callinicos, biography, though, seems like a hard one to figure. It seems more logical that it would've maybe been better for Callinicos to build Lanza's reputation than to diminish it as he book seemed to do. Perhaps it was the tired cliche that sensationalism sells books? It's just never made sense.  (it's been a long time since I read it, so please correct me if I'm wrong).

It's also been interesting to read reviews of Callinicos's performance in these concerts--he seems to have fared well in the 1940s, but during the 1951 concert tour--generally (and anecdotally) reviews seem more mediocre to negative.

[Derek McGovern]

Hi Lee Ann: I'm convinced the Callinicos book was a cynical attempt to sensationalize Lanza's life. The haste with which it appeared, and its structure---e.g., beginning with the drinking binge that preceded the Royal Variety Show---make that pretty obvious, I feel.

But how much of the negative slant that pervades the book was Callinicos' idea? It's hard to say, given that Ray Robinson was (presumably) the actual writer. The fact that Callinicos went out of his way in later years to contradict some of its more damning allegations (especially those regarding Lanza's drinking and temperament) suggests that he wanted to distance himself from the book. Then again, at times he seemed to forget what was actually in it. For example, he went on radio not long after the 1974 BBC radio program "The Mario Lanza Story"---written and hosted by Peter Clayton---had broadcast, principally to dispute some of its negative commentary on Lanza. And yet most, if not all, of Clayton's comments could be traced back to his own book!  

It's been suggested that Lanza displayed symptoms of paranoia after the bust-up with MGM, trusting few of those around him. However, had he ever anticipated that his devoted friend and accompanist would put his name to a tell-tale and often wildly inaccurate biography of him barely a year after his death, then who could have blamed him for being paranoid?!

While some of the book's fibs were no doubt kindly intended, e.g. the story of a final "Lord's Prayer" recording in September of 1959 (faithfully reproduced in Mannering's second book) and the equally implausible account of Lanza's final words, the Hugo Wolf "misinformation"---and the equally bogus story of a non-existent Albert Hall concert in February 1958 in front of an unforgiving audience---were not. Even if Callinicos didn't invent those stories, he had no business putting his name to them. 

By the way, you were right on the money here, Lee Ann:

Artists of all genres give the same concerts again and again, from town to town and even from decade to decade. To say it's indicative of failure to learn really seems more indicative of failure to learn on the part of the biographer? 

The irony about that particular biographer's claims is that, in reality, Lanza often departed from his printed program! Quite a few of the newspaper reviews note that, and in fact Lanza's third concert in Honolulu in March 1950---as the music critic of the Honolulu Tribune-Herald pointed out---barely resembled his program (much to the audience's delight), and even included "The Lord's Prayer."        

Cheers

Derek

           

    

[Michael McAdam]

Yes Lee Ann. Right on the money!

I cannot fathom how Lanzas 'friend' Costa could do that (as his other 'friend' Terry did).

I suspect an often-snubbed (in his mind) faithful like Costa was short of a job and money at that point in time and was likely coerced into spouting all that stuff at the egging on of the book's actual scribe? Just a thought.

 

Poor Mario. Who were his real friends anyway? I know he has at least two on this Forum so I hope he's looking down from the great beyond and smiling.

 

Mike

[Steff]

Hi Derek,

Speaking about Callinicos. It's really hard work to find any (detailed) information about him. There are a few concert announcements and reviews from the 1940s and 1950s, when he was accompanying pianist for singers such as Lauritz Melchior, Lilly Pons, but also for his wife (whom he married in 1941), the Bulgarian soprano Olga Avramova (This leads me to the question if Callincos ever was a solo performing pianist). As with Mario's concerts, Costas did not only do the piano accompaniment but also performed solo numbers. The thing I noticed in this context was that his own repertoire appeared to be relatively small, limited to only few musical pieces, mainly a handful of popular etudes by Chopin, excerpts form Gershwin's Rapsody in Blue and, not to forget, his own compositions, the Greek Dances. This makes me wonder, if it actually was Mario who was not willing to be more "spontaneous" in his performances and eager to try new things, or if it was rather Callinicos who simply relied on the "well-tried" in Mario's recitals.

I am including to my post two newspaper findings. The one from the year 1958 gives a brief overview of Costa's career, including his "concert assistance" for Mario (note the remark that Costas performed one half of the program as piano soloist in Mario's 1951 recitals!!). The article is dated 4 January 1958. According to Armando's Lanza biography, Mario started his European concert tour that very day with an appearance in Sheffield. Yet strangely, the 1958 article does not mention this significant tour. The second - earlier- article is from 1946 and provides you with some more information about Costas.

On a sidenote, in November 1946, Costas accompanied Met contralto Anna Kaskas in a recital in Connellesville. One of the encore numbers was "The Lord's Prayer."

BTW, passing in review the past few weeks, I've come to the conclusion that (Mario Lanza) history has to be rewritten in many respects, what do you think?

Steff

[Steff]

Hi Derek,

What do you think, what might have been Mario's motivation to rehearse and sing such demanding Hugo Wolf Lieder.
I must admit that I myself, cannot chum up at all with this kind of music ("lieder"), whereas I am more than enthusiastic about Mario having sung "Caro mio ben." There are only three arias/songs which I have always regretted that Mario never sang/recorded them, which are "Ch'ella mi creda" from Puccini's "La Fanciulla del West" (a small comfort for me that we at least have his very early private recording), "Donna non vidi mai" from Puccini's "Manon Lescaut" AND "Caro mio ben."

Steff

[Derek McGovern]

Hi Steff: It's really hit home to me over the last few weeks (as I've read the numerous articles and reviews that you and Lee Ann have uncovered) just how earnest Lanza was about his operatic and concert career in the 1940s. And---equally---just how much of a tragedy it was that he allowed Hollywood to derail his plans. There's not a single negative review that I've read from the 1940s, and on top of that, I've come away with new respect for his willingness to tackle new, difficult music in a live setting. Those biographers who have sought to portray him as a hopelessly undisciplined performer with a poor work ethic---even in the 1940s---have it all wrong. 

I presume he performed the Wolf songs because they represented a challenge to him---and he was eager to prove himself. If there's one thing that the reviewers keep pointing out (apart from being agog at the magnificence of his voice), it's his remarkable versatility. He also wasn't afraid to sing material that his audience might be unfamiliar with. So much for coasting! As a reviewer noted on his 1958 tour (and I'm paraphrasing from memory here), Mario Lanza didn't sing a single one of his hits---and still the audience loved him.

Like you, I've always regretted that Lanza recorded nothing (in his maturity) from Manon Lescaut or La Fanciulla. But when you look at what he was singing in the 1940s on stage, my God! The mouth drools at the thought of hearing the material that he frequently performed, but never recorded: the prison scene from Faust, the duet "Ecco, Il Magico Liquore" from L'Elisir d'Amore (ecstatically reviewed by various music critics), the songs "Nina" and "My Lady Walks in Loveliness," etc.

Cheers
Derek

[Steff]

Hi Derek,

It would be interesting to list all songs and arias that Mario Lanza sang in concerts or even at private occasions (as far as we have proof of it) but never recorded (as an addition to the discograpy on your website) for whatever reason. His repertoire was more extensive than we would have imagined. Like you, I was amazed about the variety of songs and arias, duets etc. he presented in his concerts.  This makes me wonder who, in later years, decided what Mario eventually was to record for RCA? A part of his early repertoire got completely "lost", right?

Incidentally, am I wrong, or did the snesationalism in articles about Mario Lanza start in 1948? I think this was the last year that had substantiated articles about Mario Lanza, the musician and his artistry, and it already marks the start of the press focussing on his becoming/being a Hollywood star.

Steff

[Derek McGovern]

Hi Steff

I've actually been thinking of compiling a list of Lanza's known repertoire for some time! What I think I'll do is include it in the article I'm planning to write on Lanza the performing artist (covering the years 1942-1958). The idea is that the essay will complement the exciting series of press sections that Lee Ann is working on (and that you've been contributing to via the many reviews you've uncovered). What we'll ultimately end up with is a major re-evaluation---and clarification---of Lanza's concert career, including a comprehensive account of what he sang and when and where, and, of course, how he was received by critics and audiences.

As for who decided what Lanza would record, my gut feeling is that RCA---realizing what a potential goldmine their tenor was---would have encouraged him toward the more popular repertoire. The two successive concept albums of Lanza on Broadway and Cavalcade of Show Tunes were surely RCA's ideas, just as it was RCA who (foolishly!) pushed Lanza to re-record The Student Prince and the Christmas Carols albums in 1959. The other 1959 albums were also at the instigation of RCA, and, had he lived, we would have had a stereo remake of The Great Caruso, and probably The Merry Widow as well, in 1960. (It's tantalizing, by the way, to contemplate how Lanza would have fared on the stereo remake of The Student Prince had he recorded it as originally planned in 1958. Even the Caruso Favorites album of June 1959 was apparently first scheduled for 1958.)

But Lanza would have been able to make suggestions himself, and I'm sure he would have had final say as to what he recorded. It's an area I'd like to know much more about, though. Was the Mario! album, for example, really Lanza's idea, as Terry Robinson claims? I'd like to think so. What we do know, thanks to Armando's interview with Antonio Cocozza, is that, whatever he thought of the various operetta albums that RCA was asking him to record in 1959-60, Lanza was excited at the prospect of recording complete operas. Remember what Antonio recalled his son telling him? "Pop: the good stuff is coming."

One thing I would particularly like to know is whether the planned album of obscure arias that Callinicos mentions in his book was nixed by RCA. Callinicos claims that the album was a casualty of Lanza's disturbed state of mind and lethargy at the time (1953/54), but given his reliability on other matters, I'm not so sure now!

Regarding the sensationalism that plagued Lanza's career, I still feel that Time started the rot with its 1951 cover article, although nasty little pieces were beginning to show up in smaller publications a few months earlier that year---largely in response to their writers' outrage at the news that Lanza had portrayed Caruso on film. Prior to 1951, but after 1948, there were still good features on Lanza the artist in the press---for example, the two long articles that appeared in Etude in December 1949 and January 1950, respectively. 

But what Time did to Lanza was inexcusable and profoundly unprofessional. Actually, I cover some of that here.

Cheers
Derek

[Derek McGovern]

In case anyone is wondering, I haven't got around yet to writing the essay I mentioned in the previous post, but it's still high on my to-do list. In the meantime, there are some wonderful reviews and articles to be read in the concert/opera section of our "Lanza and the Press" feature on our main site:

http://www.mariolanzatenor.com/concerts-and-operatic-performances.html

One article that I found fascinating was the second clipping featured at the above. It's an account of a concert in Rancho Esperanza, California, in October 1943, and it mentions that Lanza, who was then a soldier, had thrilled an audience that included Charles Lindbergh, with, among things, a selection from The Merry Wives of Windsor (presumably the Serenade). I wonder if that was the only occasion on which Lanza reprised material that he had performed in his operatic debut (just the year before)?

What's also interesting is that the concert somehow found its way into a 2009 satirical novel titled We Are Rich, by Dori Carter, as mentioned in this article from The Independent:

http://www.independent.com/news/2009/may/14/dori-carters-we-are-rich-lampoons-montecito-wealth/ 

[Derek McGovern]

A footnote to my first post on this thread: it turns out that the scheduled New York City concert in 1949 with Suzy Morris and pianists Toni and Rosi Grunschlag didn't take place after all. This was confirmed to me via a niece of Rosi Grunschlag, who relayed my question to her aunt last November (just two months before Ms. Grunschlag died in January 2012). Oh well. My apologies to Callinicos, whom I'd berated for not mentioning it! 

Still, the main point of my original post still holds true: that Callinicos and Bessette got it wrong about Lanza's 1949 concert tour---and the Hugo Wolf business, in particular---as a closer inspection of their criticisms (and some much-needed research) reveals. But I won't be holding my breath for any acknowledgement of the fact from Mr. Bessette :) It's too bad, though, that Opera Quarterly took his assertions as gospel.        

[Steff]

Hi Derek,

 

Yes, the story "All About Town - Singing Sensation Mario Lanza Comes to Rancho Speranza" which is in your article section, is included in the book "We Are Rich" by Dori Carter; in fact it is the first chapter of the book.

 

And in the chapter "The Stud Barn" by Lincoln Crowell one reads:

 

"The night I was there [Music pavilion, Casa de las Florez estate, owned by the Stevenses of St. Louis], Mario Lanza sang. He was just this young, good-looking Italian kid - maybe twenty-one or twenty-two - with a smooth tenor vice. That was before all the operas and radio recordings and his movie career. No one had ever heard of him except Mrs. Stevens, who had seen him sing at his debut back east. Then, of course, after the war, Mario Lanza became a household name.

Mrs. Stevens had invited all kinds of people to the pavilion that night, including Charles Lindbergh ..."

 

 

Steff

 

[Steff]

Hi Derek,

 

That is a true pity that the concert at the Waldorf Astoria eventually took place without Mario,

 which leads me to the following question:

 

Is there any reason and explanation why Mario never gave any concerts in New York?

Surely, he performed with the "Winged Victory" company at the Broadway, but what about

recitals? Was NY never a scheduled venue for the "Great Caruso" tour or for other concert tours

(e.g. Bel Canto Trio) ?"

 

 

Steff

[Derek McGovern]

Hi Steff: In a 1961 review of Lanza's Albert Hall recording, the reviewer (whose name escapes me right now) made the observation that, although Mario gave quite a number concerts in the US, he always steered clear of New York City, "where the carping critic awaits." I think the reviewer had a point: Lanza probably was insecure about the kind of critical reception he would face there (in light of his film stardom). And on his 1951 tour, if Felix Borowsky's carping comments in the Chicago Sun-Times (about his supposed lack of artistry) are anything to go by, then he had good reason to be nervous about the New York critics. As New York Magazine's music critic Peter G. Davis has pointed out, his predecessors in the 1950s could be awfully high and mighty---especially when it came to judging someone like Lanza, who could be seen as having sold out to commercialism.

I do think, though, that we should also factor in Lanza's pride, which must have played at least a small part in his refusal to sing in New York City. After all, he did tell reporters that, "When I sing in New York City, it will be at the Metropolitan Opera House." 

In any event, Lanza wasn't afraid to face some tough critics throughout his career (and, of course, the New York Times and Herald-Tribune did review his operatic debut). It was a brave singer who faced the notoriously tough Claudia Cassidy no fewer than three times (1946, 1947, and 1951), Max de Schauensee at the Philadelphia Academy of Music, the orchestra, soloists, chorus and staff of the Rome Opera in 1958, and so on.

Cheers

Derek