Hi Derek: Regarding Voce e Notte, there’s no doubt that it’s one of Lanza’s greatest performances in the Neapolitan idiom.
Interestingly, the lyrics were written by the young poet Eduardo Nicolardi who had lost his beloved after she was forced by her parents to marry a wealthy 75 year old.
The words are a reflection of the sadness and loss felt by the young man, a mood that Lanza captures perfectly –the subdued way in which he ends the song is most appropriate.
Corelli couldn’t sing songs, Neapolitan or otherwise, if his life depended on it. The approach and voice production were all wrong. Di Stefano is certainly much better. However, his is a typical Pippo performance without the extra nuances that Lanza brings to the song.
As an alternative to Lanza I much prefer Francesco Albanese’s version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpwmw-OBPvw
His version of this piece and of others seem to come from an earlier era--both interpretively and perhaps also technologically--yet this was 1948?
Hi Lee Ann: What I like about Albanese is not only Voce e Notte, but all of his Neapolitan and Italian songs output. Yes, the style is predominantly that of the 1930’s but compared to the glorified Gigli, Albanese is a model of taste. Excellent phrasing and diction and a voice that I find both warm and appealing.
His was a short voice that had difficulty beyond B flat, otherwise I think his career would have been more extensive. He was not yet 50 when he retired in 1961.
Having said this, I have always maintained that, with few exceptions, compared to the singers that spanned the period of say, 1920 to 1960, Lanza’s recordings are as fresh and current as ever and, indeed, will never date.
Quite apart from the excesses of Gigli et al. the worst examples of a total inability to sing a song convincingly are the already mentioned Corelli and, particularly, Del Monaco, who was only concerned with blasting away and totally lacked any understanding of the text.
Hi Tony: The problem with Del Monaco and Corelli, as well as others from the Melocchi school is, that unlike Lanza, Di Stefano, Gigli and Pavarotti, just to cite some examples, they were not natural voices. They were fabricated ones. The Melocchi method of lowering the larynx to the maximum resulted in trumpeting high notes but, as I said on more than one occasion, these tenors sounded as if they were singing with a mouth full of marbles.
I must, however, make a distinction between Corelli and Del Monaco. Corelli at least tried to interpret whatever he was singing and made a reasonable and sometimes (in opera) impressive job of it. Del Monaco on the other hand was merely concerned with emitting the loudest sound possible. There is no correlation between what he is saying and his totally ridiculous gestures that are obviously not felt but studied and belong with the silent film era style of acting.
It’s a different matter if we discuss Gigli and Pavarotti. Gigli made some excellent recordings particularly at the start of his career. The voice was a beautiful one, the technique solid and the singing mostly effortless. His failing was as an interpreter, as he relied far too much on mannerisms to convey what should have been heartfelt emotion which he obviously lacked.
I always felt that Pavarotti should have stuck to singing Donizetti, Bellini and some Rossini. He had the perfect voice for the Bel Canto repertoire.
In the romantic and verismo operas, as well as Neapolitan songs, I found him totally lacking in temperament. As Cavaradossi, for example, his acting, if one can call it that, is downright embarrassing, while in concerts he simply stood on the stage, handkerchief serving as a prop and, if I didn’t know, I could swear it was he and not Bocelli that was blind. Dead eyes fixed at some point at the back of the auditorium while the singer concentrated solely on producing a sound. Technically good but on the boring side. Rondine al Nido was a pleasant exception.
Un caro saluto.
Armando