Comparative review, "Che gelida manina"
Jon Conrad
issued some while back by Richard Berrong. In a comparison
of BOHEME recordings, Jussi Bjoerling's much-praised
performance was found wanting because of its lack of
dramatic vividness compared with others. I maintained that
Bjoerling's vocal command itself constituted a kind of
rightness of interpretation that made his work
recommendable, and was challenged to get down to specifics.
Here they finally are, in the form of a comparison of
recordings of Rodolfo's aria "Che gelida manina." Those
uninterested in this subject may feel free to kill this
thread now.
The recordings considered here are the following ones (*
indicates that the recording is part of a complete recording
of the opera):
Carlo Bergonzi: Tullio Serafin, Santa Cecilia O, 1959*
Jussi Bjoerling: Thomas Beecham, RCA Victor O, 1956*
Enrico Caruso: unnamed cond. & o, 1906
Alessandro Bonci: unnamed cond. & o, 1908
Giuseppe di Stefano (I): Renato Cellini, RCA Victor O, 1951
Giuseppe di Stefano (II): Antonio Votto, La Scala O, 1957*
Pl cido Domingo: Georg Solti, London Phil. O, 1973*
Nicolai Gedda: Thomas Schippers, Rome Opera O, 1963*
Beniamino Gigli (I): Eugene Goossens, o; 1931
Beniamino Gigli (II): Umberto Berrettoni, La Scala O, 1938*
Jerry Hadley: unnamed cond. & o, 198? [live]
Giovanni Martinelli: unnamed cond. & o, 1913
John McCormack: unnamed cond. & o, 1910
Luciano Pavarotti (I): Leone Magiera, New Philharmonia O,
1971
Luciano Pavarotti (II): Herbert von Karajan, Berlin
Philharmonic O, 1972*
These are the versions I happened to own, or could find in
local libraries. Many more could be considered with
advantage, but these are probably enough for general
comparative points.
Some general remarks first. The aria as composed does not
allow, or invite, as much variation of interpretation as,
say, "Una furtiva lagrima," for it is marked with
interpretive indications in considerable detail. (And when
I remark on one of the score's instruction's being ignored,
I am not necessarily objecting, just observing.) I will
take various points of interest in the order in which they
occur, and do some summing up at the end. My assumption,
which I will not defend in detail each time, is that fine
points of interpretation and execution have expressive
significance.
The opening of the aria is gentle, conversational, expanding
only slightly into a lyrical moment before returning to the
opening mood in a simple ABA form. One thing that can
slightly mar the opening phrases is a habit of scooping into
them (approaching their first note from below); both Di
Stefano (particularly his second time) and Domingo are
guilty of this. (In addition to this habit, Domingo often
swells within individual notes, to the detriment of ongoing
legato.) Another is treating the incidental high A flat as
a big event, where it is clearly not intended to interrupt
the gentle mood. Those who manage it without fuss are
Bjoerling, Bonci, Gedda (despite a preliminary scoop), Gigli
(both times), and McCormack. In his second recording, Di
Stefano finds even G flats effortful.
Apparently a tradition developed in Italy of speeding up for
the B section. Most of the Italian tenors from Caruso on do
this, and Martinelli even rushes ahead of the beat.
At "l'abbiamo vicina," a small slowdown (poco rit.) is
indicated. Usually it is a great big slowdown, going into
half tempo with a long hold on the last syllable before the
return to the A material. Gedda, Hadley, and McCormack make
only a modest ritard here, Caruso none at all, and none of
them hold the last note beyond its length. Gigli II keeps
the rhythms very accurate within a bigger ritard (no hold).
The high B flat on "chi son" is a high point of this first
section but not of the whole aria. The tradition that no
breath should be taken between this note and the following
ones apparently dates from early in the workžs history: all
these tenors observe it. The only one who sounds to be
exerting disproportionate effort on the note is Martinelli.
Once on the note, however, few attempt the indicated
diminuendo: those who manage at least a partial softening
are Bjoerling, Gedda, Gigli II, and Hadley (though he spends
a minimum of time on the note, not holding it at all). The
real master here is Bergonzi, who tapers the note meltingly
(a pleasant surprise after his less than effortless A flat)
and makes the following phrase a musically coherent
continuation.
Assorted matters in this opening section: Bonci's quick
vibrato startles, but such was characteristic of his time
among tenors (it may have been exaggerated by early
recording technique). Di Stefanožs timbre is especially
sweet on his first recording, matched in aural distinction
by Gigli's similar quality and Caruso's richness. Gigli I
has a nice chuckle in his voice at one point, but just a few
measures later is sobbing; by the time of his complete
recording he has pulled back from both extremes and has
things in better proportion. Gedda is the most successful
at "speaking" the lines so that they sound personal and
freshly imagined; McCormack likewise keeps the passage
within a modest lyrical framework so that it does not
overblow its introductory character. The occasional need to
sing two notes to one syllable finds Di Stefano and Gigli
occasionally resorting to aspirates (the "ha-ha" sound).
Pavarotti II suffers from lack of consistency on the
repeated notes when the vowel changes -- volume blurts up
and down.
The next secion, "Chi son!?...," only 9 measures, is a hard
one to bring to life, particularly on records, with its
abrupt and subtle changes of tone -- irony, self-
questioning, assurance. Most of these tenors sound to be
giving a straight "reading" with little variety (while
realizing that the earliest recordings may well suffer from
inhibitions due to the strange studio circumstances and the
awkwardness of the acoustical process, we must still
consider the results). Gigli I perhaps overshoots the mark
with all his self-deprecating chuckles, but in II he has
them in the right places and is very convincing. Hadley is
the only other one with a hint of laughter at this point,
perhaps because he is the only one recorded live. Pavarotti
makes good use of the possibilities of dynamic variety in
his first recording (for his second he has reverted to a
"standard" reading), but here again it is Bergonzi who can
give lessons to all the others: by thinking through the
plentiful dynamic and other suggestions in the score, he
brings the moment to life through purely musical and vocal
means.
The third section, "In poverta," brings back Rodolfo's
lyrical theme from earlier in the act, with the voice as
accompaniment much of the time. The first vocal entry,
coming in on the second half of the second beat, can find
out the inferior musicians among tenors, for they will be
unwilling to wait for the full duration of such a rest.
(This has nothing to do with being able to *read* music --
it's a matter of "hearing" and understanding how one fits
into the pulse of the music.) Di Stefano and Pavarotti both
fall short in this respect; as noted earlier, Martinelli is
surprisingly fallible rhythmically too.
The very gradual crescendo requested during the end of this
short section is executed satisfyingly by few; not
surprisingly, for it cannot be done unless the voice is
functioning freely through the required range. Most make
the transition to loudness in stages, or in one abrupt jump.
Bergonzi tries to do it the hard way without quite
disguising the difficulty. Gedda and Bjoerling make this
buildup with assured ease and smoothness, no blips along the
way.
Finally, the Big Tune, "Talor dal mio forziere" -- the
moment when, as John Steane puts it, "a tenor comes into his
kingdom." The very opening of the tune, a leap from E flat
up to A flat, is a checkpoint, for one wants to hear a
smooth connection and then a solid and assured tone to carry
through the rest of the phrase. Like the even crescendo
just before, this has dramatic relevance, for it constitutes
the musical analog for Rodolfo's growing assurance and
ardor. Caruso is the paradigm here in many ways, for once
one has heard his tone open out for this glorious melody,
few will want to settle for anything else. Domingo, for all
his slight failures of legato early in the aria (scoops and
bulges on individual notes), is Caruso's worthy successor
here, fattening the tone beautifully. Pavarotti does well
here too, particularly on his earlier recording.
Bjoerling's success with this effect is worth noting, for
besides Caruso he is the only tenor able to combine this
sort of climactic expansion on upper A flat with the ability
to toss the same note off lightly early in the aria; the
other tenors have no such freedom of choice.
Earlier tenors generally realized this, and if unable to
broaden the voice in this way they sensibly kept it
contained within limits rather than trying to emulate what
they could not do; examples of this more controlled lyric
approach are Bonci, McCormack, both Giglis, Bergonzi, and Di
Stefano I. On his second recording (the complete opera), Di
Stefano sounds pressurized rather than "released." Similar
problems vex Gedda and Hadley, both of whom emulate the all-
out "big tone" approach without having the voices for it,
and thus sound merely pushed beyond comfort. Martinelli's
similar effect is probably related to his overall vocal
technique, with its omnipresent hints of edgy pressure; here
this catches up with him so that most notes sound "straight"
(no vibrato) and have slight individual swells.
When the tune returns, Puccini first wrote a vocal line that
went no higher than A flat, then added an alternative that
encompasses high C -- once offered, impossible to refuse.
It is taken by all these tenors. None of them take it the
way I'd like to hear tried at least once -- in tempo or
nearly so, so that the pulse is not obliterated. They all
hold the C as long as their lungs allow (Pavarotti II
struck me as the longest, though I didn't take a stopwatch
to this feature), Bonci taking an extra breath two notes
before it. Though the sound of such an extreme pitch
securely sustained is bound to be exciting, the note is not
always terribly attractive in itself. In most cases it
sounds like what it is, an extreme (some of these tenors
regularly transposed the aria down a whole tone in live
performance -- Domingo for one -- and Caruso's recording is
a half tone down, at least in the transfer I heard). In
most cases it is of markedly different quality from the rest
of the voice (I found this most obvious in Pavarotti II).
Those who encompass it with some ease and beauty are Gedda,
Bjoerling, and particularly Bergonzi, who seems again to
have given the most thought to musical matters: how long to
hold the note and how to continue into the following notes.
Bergonzi is also the best of the "modern" tenors, here and
elsewhere, in terms of tasteful and appropriate use of
portamento.
The aftermath of this climax returns to the conversational
feeling of the opening section. Gigli I can't resist
sobbing again here (aspirating again too); for the complete
recording he has improved this aspect. Both times he
separates the very last note in a curious way, preceding it
by a grace note from a third below; Martinelli follows this
practice too. Di Stefano introduces a hint of laughing
inflection into this final section. Bjoerling and Gedda
observe the detailed printed markings (accents on certain
notes, changes of dynamic) more than the others, to good
dramatic effect.
The repeated middle E flats near the end (right on a tenor's
register-change or "passaggio" point) can give cause for
anxiety over intonation in live performance. In these
studio recordings (in Hadley's live performance too) all is
generally shipshape. Only Pavarotti II's intonation gives
rise to a twinge or two, and Di Stefano II sounds to be
handling the challenge with almost pure head voice (or
falsetto) for the note rather than a balanced registration.
It might be observed that those recordings using Puccini's
own delicious scoring are at a tremendous advantage in
creating the proper mood. All the pre-electric (roughly
pre-1925) recordings had to re-score for wind instruments in
order to reach the recording horn, and suffer thereby. Of
the later recordings, Sir Thomas Beecham (Bjoerling) and Sir
Georg Solti (Domingo) bring out the subtleties of the
orchestration to especially magical effect. If one feels on
principle that such accompaniments ought not to be "brought
out," then one may prefer the unobtrusively supportive way
Tullio Serafin works with Bergonzi. Surprisingly, that
master orchestral technician Herbert von Karajan, even with
the Berlin Philharmonic at his disposal, does not do
anything especially distinctive for Pavarotti II; he
certainly indulges the usual number of liberties and passes
some less than ideal details.
It would be ridiculous, after all this (and I could have
gone on much longer), to name a "best" recording among these
contenders. Nor do I believe that the recording which
accumulated the most "+" checkmarks at each point along the
way automatically stacks up the best. My main goal was to
find out what different sorts of values are provided by the
many illustrious tenors who have recorded this. I hope I
have shown that the vocal freedom and mastery of a Bjoerling
contributes one kind of excellence (this was the original point
of dispute). So does the commitment and involvement of a Gigli,
the splendor of a Caruso, the integrity of a McCormack. Our
current tenors earn a high place for themselves in some respects,
a lower one in others.
For me, the most pleasant surprises were two: the well-
realized insights of Nicolai Gedda (whom I knew as a
superior all-purpose tenor but had remembered -- from
listening decades ago -- as less than stimulating in this
recording), often close to Bjoerling, for whatever one wants
to make of the common Swedish heritage; and the stunning
quality of Carlo Bergonzi. Though we all know Bergonzi was
solid, tasteful, all those unexciting adjectives, his actual
tone is not the type that grabs one from the first instant;
and yet, time and again, he was the one who, while working
within the accepted Italian tradition, consistently read the
score carefully, thought for himself, and had the vocal
wherewithal to use his thought to valid and memorable
effect. Bravo to him and to all these estimable artists.
And thanks to whatever readers are still with me, whose
patience I fear I've taxed, for going along with this
indulgence in comparative criticism.
Jon Alan Conrad
Richard M. Berrong
Subject: Re: Comparative review, "Che gelida manina"
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In article <C9qzI...@news.udel.edu> con...@brahms.udel.edu (Jon Conrad) writes:
>This represents my attempt to make good on a challenge
>issued some while back by Richard Berrong. In a comparison
>of BOHEME recordings, Jussi Bjoerling's much-praised
>performance was found wanting because of its lack of
>dramatic vividness compared with others. I maintained that
>Bjoerling's vocal command itself constituted a kind of
>rightness of interpretation that made his work
>recommendable,
I seem to recall that your choice of adjectives at the time was somewhat
stronger than "recommendable"
And, of course, a performance can be recommendable, which Bjorling's
is, for the sort of reasons you list below, without having dramatic
vividness.
and was challenged to get down to specifics.
>Here they finally are, in the form of a comparison of
>recordings of Rodolfo's aria "Che gelida manina." Those
>uninterested in this subject may feel free to kill this
>thread now.
But, of course, since the debate concerned the entire opera, and not just
this one piece, you have radically changed things.
>
>The recordings considered here are the following ones (*
>indicates that the recording is part of a complete recording
>of the opera):
>
>Carlo Bergonzi: Tullio Serafin, Santa Cecilia O, 1959*
>Jussi Bjoerling: Thomas Beecham, RCA Victor O, 1956*
>Enrico Caruso: unnamed cond. & o, 1906
>Alessandro Bonci: unnamed cond. & o, 1908
>Giuseppe di Stefano (I): Renato Cellini, RCA Victor O, 1951
>Giuseppe di Stefano (II): Antonio Votto, La Scala O, 1957*
>Pl cido Domingo: Georg Solti, London Phil. O, 1973*
>Nicolai Gedda: Thomas Schippers, Rome Opera O, 1963*
>Beniamino Gigli (I): Eugene Goossens, o; 1931
>Beniamino Gigli (II): Umberto Berrettoni, La Scala O, 1938
>Jerry Hadley: unnamed cond. & o, 198? [live]
>Giovanni Martinelli: unnamed cond. & o, 1913
You might also want to consider his later, 1926 recording. Many of the
recordings he made in the 1910s are, as you observe below, rather rough.
.
>John McCormack: unnamed cond. & o, 1910
>Luciano Pavarotti (I): Leone Magiera, New Philharmonia O,
> 1971
>Luciano Pavarotti (II): Herbert von Karajan, Berlin
> Philharmonic O, 1972*
>
>These are the versions I happened to own, or could find in
>local libraries. Many more could be considered with
>advantage, but these are probably enough for general
>comparative points.
I would add, off the top of my head (and my own record collection),
Kiepura's 1937 recording, Piccaver's 1929, J. Schmidt's 1932,
Tauber's 1924, and Wittrisch's 1932.
>
[Jon Conrad's passage-by-passage description of the various recordings
omitted -- though not dismissed.]
>
>It would be ridiculous, after all this (and I could have
>gone on much longer), to name a "best" recording among these
>contenders. Nor do I believe that the recording which
>accumulated the most "+" checkmarks at each point along the
>way automatically stacks up the best.
There we go!
My main goal was to
>find out what different sorts of values are provided by the
>many illustrious tenors who have recorded this. I hope I
>have shown that the vocal freedom and mastery of a Bjoerling
>contributes one kind of excellence
Yes, it most certainly does.
this was the original point
>of dispute).
No, actually, it was not, though I doubt anyone particulary cares
anymore, other than you and I.
So does the commitment and involvement of a Gigli,
>the splendor of a Caruso, the integrity of a McCormack. Our
>current tenors earn a high place for themselves in some respects,
>a lower one in others.
As you said early on in this discussion, listening to the performances
in question is, indeed, a very good idea.
>
>For me, the most pleasant surprises were two: the well-
>realized insights of Nicolai Gedda (whom I knew as a
>superior all-purpose tenor but had remembered -- from
>listening decades ago -- as less than stimulating in this
>recording), often close to Bjoerling, for whatever one wants
>to make of the common Swedish heritage; and the stunning
>quality of Carlo Bergonzi. Though we all know Bergonzi was
>solid, tasteful, all those unexciting adjectives, his actual
>tone is not the type that grabs one from the first instant;
>and yet, time and again, he was the one who, while working
>within the accepted Italian tradition, consistently read the
>score carefully, thought for himself, and had the vocal
>wherewithal to use his thought to valid and memorable
>effect. Bravo to him and to all these estimable artists.
It is sad, but true, that because artists (and I use that term here
with the highest praise) such as Gedda, and Bergonzi, who are/were
"solid, tasteful", and all the other positive, but, as you say,
unexciting qualities that are attributed to them, are remembered
as such, we all, myself included, tend to forget just how exciting
some of their performances could be. Though I have many of their
recordings, and have heard them for many years, I, too, am often
surprised when I go back and listen to one how wonderful they
can be.
>And thanks to whatever readers are still with me, whose
>patience I fear I've taxed, for going along with this
>indulgence in comparative criticism.
>
>Jon Alan Conrad
Not at all. But your comparitive criticism, while very enjoyable,
does not really respond to my original points -- which, I am sure,
are long since forgotten by others, and which I, too, shall let rest.
The simple fact of the matter is that different people respond to
different aspects of a vocal performance, and give the different
aspects different weight in their overall evaluation of them. It
is also my experience (and here I speak in general, since I do not
know your particular case) that those who do not speak the languages
of opera fluently put less value on the "dramatic vividness" of a
performance for the very simple reason that they do not react to
the meaning of the words as they are sung. (It is all very well
to know what a given passage means through translation, but it is
not at all the same thing as having the actual words resonate with
the denotations and connotations that they have for fluent speakers
of the language.) Nor, of course, is there any point in trying to
impose one's own set of values on others. If they enjoy opera for
the wrong reasons, and they are not amenable to a civil discussion of
alternatives, then let them be
!
Richard Berrong
Braden Mechley
>own delicious scoring are at a tremendous advantage in
>creating the proper mood. All the pre-electric (roughly
>pre-1925) recordings had to re-score for wind instruments in
>order to reach the recording horn, and suffer thereby. Of
>the later recordings, Sir Thomas Beecham (Bjoerling) and Sir
>Georg Solti (Domingo) bring out the subtleties of the
>orchestration to especially magical effect.
When one discusses "Che gelida manina," one detail from the Bjorling/Beecham
collaboration stands out for a different reason. Bjorling sails up to that
high C, but Beecham apparently gets annoyed at the time the tenor seems to
wish to spend up there and brings the orchestra crashing in as a signal to the
singer to dismount (instead of letting singer and orchestra make this moment
together). This detail always amuses me when I listen to this recording.
>And thanks to whatever readers are still with me, whose
>patience I fear I've taxed, for going along with this
>indulgence in comparative criticism.
Not at all. It was a wonderful exercise in indulgence, I think; it rather
reminded me of the old column in OPERA NEWS in which a single aria from one
of the operas broadcast in the two-week span covered in that issue would be
discussed in similar fashion (though not nearly in as much detail). The end
result of performing an audition exercise like this one is usually that one
enjoys and appreciates the piece of music itself all the more. My first such
experience occurred when I listened to every available version of my beloved
Act Two finale of LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. Above all I came to know the work
itself far better.
Braden Mechley
Department of Classics
University of Washington
Jon Conrad
>>This represents my attempt to make good on a challenge
>>issued some while back by Richard Berrong....
>I seem to recall that your choice of adjectives at the time was somewhat
>stronger than "recommendable"
What was it? What it was, I was reacting against your anti-
recommendation.
>And, of course, a performance can be recommendable, which Bjorling's
>is, for the sort of reasons you list below, without having dramatic
>vividness.
*sigh* I thought I had indicated that there's more than one route to
"dramatic vividness."
>But, of course, since the debate concerned the entire opera, and not just
>this one piece, you have radically changed things.
Richard, I just haven't got the stamina to do this kind of detailed
documentation for a whole opera -- not unless I was getting paid very
well for it, at least. I did indicate, back then, that I would have to
confine myself to the aria; the exercise is impossible otherwise.
>Not at all. But your comparitive criticism, while very enjoyable,
>does not really respond to my original points -- which, I am sure,
>are long since forgotten by others, and which I, too, shall let rest.
>The simple fact of the matter is that different people respond to
>different aspects of a vocal performance, and give the different
>aspects different weight in their overall evaluation of them.
Of course. I tried to guard against this in my discussion by keeping
things as "objective" (hated word) as possible, but inevitably I failed.
>It
>is also my experience (and here I speak in general, since I do not
>know your particular case) that those who do not speak the languages
>of opera fluently put less value on the "dramatic vividness" of a
>performance for the very simple reason that they do not react to
>the meaning of the words as they are sung. (It is all very well
>to know what a given passage means through translation, but it is
>not at all the same thing as having the actual words resonate with
>the denotations and connotations that they have for fluent speakers
>of the language.)
I think I respond to the thrill of words vividly delivered and made
real, a dramatic moment caught. My original point was not that
Bjoerling (who by and large does not do this) was The One True Way;
but I did feel that you were being overly restrictive in defining
the routes to operatic vividness. It can happen through other
aspects of vocal delivery, if the singer is good enough.
Jon Alan Conrad
Jon Conrad
>it rather
>reminded me of the old column in OPERA NEWS in which a single aria from one
>of the operas broadcast in the two-week span covered in that issue would be
>discussed in similar fashion
These were usually written by David Hamilton, about the best there is
for this sort of thing. David's a friend and mentor, and I was thinking
of him as I wrote this, and hoping I didn't disgrace his standard of
careful dispassionate listening and concise description. He also did
some analytical articles aimed at readers with no special musical
background that he (and I) hoped would be the start of a book: "The
Secret Life of a Waltz" (the "Emperor") and "The Secret Life of a Song
(Schubert's "Im Fruehling"), both in HIGH FIDELITY.
Jon Alan Conrad
G. Hugh Song
|> [ ... ] In a comparison
|> of BOHEME recordings, Jussi Bjoerling's much-praised
|> performance was found wanting because of its lack of
|> dramatic vividness compared with others. I maintained that
|> Bjoerling's vocal command itself constituted a kind of
|> rightness of interpretation that made his work
|> recommendable, and was challenged to get down to specifics.
|> Here they finally are, in the form of a comparison of
|> recordings of Rodolfo's aria "Che gelida manina."
|> For me, the most pleasant surprises were two: the well-
|> realized insights of Nicolai Gedda (whom I knew as a
|> superior all-purpose tenor but had remembered -- from
|> listening decades ago -- as less than stimulating in this
|> recording), often close to Bjoerling, for whatever one wants
|> to make of the common Swedish heritage; and the stunning
|> quality of Carlo Bergonzi. Though we all know Bergonzi was
|> solid, tasteful, all those unexciting adjectives, his actual
|> tone is not the type that grabs one from the first instant;
|> and yet, time and again, he was the one who, while working
|> within the accepted Italian tradition, consistently read the
|> score carefully, thought for himself, and had the vocal
|> wherewithal to use his thought to valid and memorable
|> effect. Bravo to him and to all these estimable artists.
|>
I do not have such a broad knowledge on all aspects of classical vocal
nor such a broad collection of opera recordings.
However, the topic which Jon brought up is particularly dear to me
espcially because the beauty of that particular aria sung by a local
tenor twenty something years ago woke up my love of operas
at the age of 15 (No musical education, no hifi, no dedicated
classical music radio station, in a faraway land, etc...).
I've also heard, not all, but most of tenors in the list, sing Che gelida
manina more than once. Among all the tenors, Bergonzi's voice is
always one of the unexciting. However, I find myself going
back to his recording again and again.
Although most people in the net consider the Beecham recording of
La Boheme the top, I find myself fond of Serafin's with Bergonzi
more than anything else. The reason is simply one aria in that whole
opera - Che gelida mania - sung by one unexciting voice.
To me, his voice has a quality which can be attributed to a poet.
The voice should have various, variable colors with ease in volume
command. Most exciting tenors do not have such a variable color.
Even Caruso sounds like a monotone with variable volume control only.
Domingo, though one of the most exciting, has neither a volume control nor
the tone control.
Anyone can find Bergonzi's name like a commodity in all Italian opera
repertories. He could have won the Best Supporting Actor Award in Oscar
Award in Operatic Stages if there were such a thing although the fact that
he was a tenor would not make that happen anyway. Most divas recorded
each opera once or, at the most, twice. He was the only one who
recorded the same opera over and over again with different divas.
Perhaps, divas do not want a more exciting voice than theirs.
It is interesting that it was only me who nominated Bergonzi's name in the
tenor-voice-of-the-century runners-up in the most-involving-singer
category about a month ago.
BTW, I have the three lyrical moments in which no other tenor can really do
better than Bergonzi.
"Che gelida manina" in La Boheme
"Un di felice" in La Traviata
The last act of Aida.
Hugh
R. Wilmer
>In article <C9qzI...@news.udel.edu>, con...@brahms.udel.edu (Jon Conrad) writes:
>|> to make of the common Swedish heritage; and the stunning
>|> quality of Carlo Bergonzi. Though we all know Bergonzi was
>|> solid, tasteful, all those unexciting adjectives, his actual
>|> tone is not the type that grabs one from the first instant;
>|> and yet, time and again, he was the one who, while working
>|> within the accepted Italian tradition, consistently read the
>|> score carefully, thought for himself, and had the vocal
>|> wherewithal to use his thought to valid and memorable
>|> effect. Bravo to him and to all these estimable artists.
>|>
>|> Jon Alan Conrad
>
>better than Bergonzi.
>
>"Che gelida manina" in La Boheme
>"Un di felice" in La Traviata
>The last act of Aida.
>
I have another:
"Ah la paterna mano'' from Macbeth.
When we were discussing recordings of Macbeth a while ago, I felt
that a great advantage of the Leinsdorf set was the extraordinary
singing of the great final three arias of three heartbroken characters:
Macduff (Ah la paterno mano) sung by Bergonzi, Lady Macbeth (Una
macchia e qui tutt'ora) sung by Rysanek, and Macbeth (Pieta,
rispetto, amore conforto a di' cadenti) sung by Warren.
Macduff's aria is a masterpiece of characterization, beautiful words,
and heartbreaking music about the death of his children (Bergonzi's
tragic ``Voi chiamavati, voi chiamavati invano -- You cried out, you in
vain'' and then his thrilling singing of ``Ah trammi al tiranno in faccia'').
I cannot imagine anyone singing that aria more beautifully.
Another fine Bergonzi performance that I particularly like is his
complete performance of Gabriel Adorno in a live Met production
of Simon Boccanegra with Milanov, Siepi, and Guarrera. I sometimes
play that recording for my tenor students to demonstrate legato
and the weight he gives to different parts of his range to be
able to move his voice smoothly throughout his range.
Richard
r...@english.as.ua.edu
>Jon Alan Conrad
> I've often heard Che gelida manina sung down a half-step, but never
down a step. Has Domingo really sung it that way? The tessitura
would be uncomfortably low, wouldn't it?
Matt B.
Richard M. Berrong
Since Jon Conrad went to the trouble of going through several
recordings of "Che gelida manina" to defend his position
regarding Bjorling, and since I had most the those recordings,
plus a few others, at hand, I thought I would sit down with them
myself, score in hand, and see what I came up with.
Jon Conrad began:
>This represents my attempt to make good on a challenge
>issued some while back by Richard Berrong. In a comparison
>of BOHEME recordings, Jussi Bjoerling's much-praised
>performance was found wanting because of its lack of
>dramatic vividness compared with others. I maintained that
>Bjoerling's vocal command itself constituted a kind of
>rightness of interpretation that made his work
>recommendable, and was challenged to get down to specifics.
The basic problem, of course, is that Jon Conrad and I have
very different notions of what constitutes "dramatic vividness".
Bjorling's recording certainly demonstrates "vocal command ...
that [makes] his work recommendable", but that command does not,
in this recording, translate into what I would consider dramatic
vividness, by which I mean making the text, as well as the music,
come to life. (There's no point in hashing this out again, as we
are very clearly working from different definitions.)
Jon Conrad's list of recordings:
>Carlo Bergonzi: Tullio Serafin, Santa Cecilia O, 1959*
>Jussi Bjoerling: Thomas Beecham, RCA Victor O, 1956*
>Enrico Caruso: unnamed cond. & o, 1906
>Alessandro Bonci: unnamed cond. & o, 1908
>Giuseppe di Stefano (I): Renato Cellini, RCA Victor O, 1951
>Giuseppe di Stefano (II): Antonio Votto, La Scala O, 1957*
>Pl cido Domingo: Georg Solti, London Phil. O, 1973*
>Nicolai Gedda: Thomas Schippers, Rome Opera O, 1963*
>Beniamino Gigli (I): Eugene Goossens, o; 1931
>Beniamino Gigli (II): Umberto Berrettoni, La Scala O, 1938*
>Jerry Hadley: unnamed cond. & o, 198? [live]
>Giovanni Martinelli: unnamed cond. & o, 1913
>John McCormack: unnamed cond. & o, 1910
>Luciano Pavarotti (I): Leone Magiera, New Philharmonia O,
> 1971
>Luciano Pavarotti (II): Herbert von Karajan, Berlin
> Philharmonic O, 1972*
To which I add what I happen to have on hand:
Peter Anders (in German): 1944
Dino Borgioli: 1920s
Joseph Hilsop: 1922
Jan Kiepura: 1937
Mario Lanza (yes!, and no, not a great recording): 1950/2
Giacomo Lauri Volpi: 1924
Giovanni Martinelli: 1926
Angelo Minghetti: 1920s
Jan Peerce: Toscanini (part of the complete opera), 1946
Alfred Piccaver: 1929
Giacinto Prandelli: Erede (part of complete opera)
Josef Schmidt (in German): 1932
Richard Tauber (in German): 1924
Richard Tucker: Antonicelli (part of complete opera)
Marcel Wittrisch (in German): 1932
He began:
>My assumption,
>which I will not defend in detail each time, is that fine
>points of interpretation and execution have expressive
>significance.
>The opening of the aria is gentle, conversational, expanding
>only slightly into a lyrical moment before returning to the
>opening mood in a simple ABA form. One thing that can
>slightly mar the opening phrases is a habit of scooping into
>them (approaching their first note from below); both Di
>Stefano (particularly his second time) and Domingo are
>guilty of this. (In addition to this habit, Domingo often
>swells within individual notes, to the detriment of ongoing
>legato.) Another is treating the incidental high A flat as
>a big event, where it is clearly not intended to interrupt
>the gentle mood. Those who manage it without fuss are
>Bjoerling, Bonci, Gedda (despite a preliminary scoop), Gigli
>(both times), and McCormack. In his second recording, Di
>Stefano finds even G flats effortful.
In fact, on almost all the older recordings in question here, the
A flat ("CERcar che giova?") is not treated as a big event, with
the exception of Borgioli. Peerce overdoes it as well, and Lanza
(something of a whipping boy here) really lands on it. But the
other, older recordings have no problems in this respect.
Where there is real difference is how the text of the opening
lines is delivered. The opening of the aria is not really
"gentle, conversational". Rodolfo has just, through a clever
stratagem, taken hold of Mimi's hand in the dark. She at first
tries to take it back, but Rodolfo, of course, does not want to
let it go, and so should sing/speak to her in a tone that is warm
(but not too warm, at least at first), comforting ("No, I am not
going to rape you"), tender. This is not just a conversation, by
a long shot. Nor is it a seduction. It is a case of gentle,
warm, sensitive, yet firm persuasion.
And it is in this respect, as elsewhere in his recording, that I
find Bjorling such a disappointment. He delivers the opening
lines, "Che gelida manina! Me la lasci riscaldare. Cercar che
giova? Al buio non si trova." (What a cold little hand! Let me
warm it. What's the point in hunting [for Mimi's key]? It can't
be found in the dark.), as if he were, in fact, just carrying on
a conversation with any individual of either gender, not as if he
were trying to comfort, and persuade, an attractive young lady
who at this moment is afraid of him and in whom he has a very
definite interest. Despite its other faults, Gigli's 1931
recording is a marvel in this respect. The delivery of the words
is astoundingly tender, and warm, truly the sound of a man trying
to comfort, and persuade, a shy young woman. His 1938 recording
is very good in this sense as well, as is the Prandelli (a much
under-appreciated tenor in this country). Others who convey the
situation with the sound of their voice include Kiepura,
McCormack, Piccaver, Wittrisch, and, to an extent, Hilsop. So it
could be done, and Bjorling really does not attempt it. Of
course, there are others who don't, either. Martinelli's 1913
recording, a general loser, is as bad if not worse in this
respect than the Bjorling, though by his 1926 remake he had
learned to do something, albeit not much, with the lines.
>Apparently a tradition developed in Italy of speeding up for
>the B section. Most of the Italian tenors from Caruso on do
>this, and Martinelli even rushes ahead of the beat.
In his early recording very much so. In the 1926 recording, only
very slightly.
>At "l'abbiamo vicina," a small slowdown (poco rit.) is
>indicated. Usually it is a great big slowdown, going into
>half tempo with a long hold on the last syllable before the
>return to the A material. Gedda, Hadley, and McCormack make
>only a modest ritard here, Caruso none at all, and none of
>them hold the last note beyond its length. Gigli II keeps
>the rhythms very accurate within a bigger ritard (no hold).
But there is also another point here. There is a written
appoggiatura at "viCIna", and Bjorling ignores it. Out of the
20-some recordings of this aria that I listened to, almost
everyone else sang it, some more clearly than others, granted,
but it is always there.
And he, of all the tenors I examined, certainly had the most time
to do so. The one objective fact that stands out in comparing
these recordings is how very much longer and slower the
Beecham/Bjorling recording is than *all* the others I listened
to. (Since I put them all on cassette, the counter did the
measuring for me.) It is, in fact, fully *twice* as long as some
of the other versions (Caruso, di Stefano 1951, Gigli 1931,
Kiepura, Schmidt, Tauber, Wittrisch, Peerce/Toscanini, Hilsop).
The slowness, which has always bothered me as really excessive,
was, I am sure, mostly Beecham's doing, but it certainly gave
Bjorling time to bring off that appoggiatura, had he wanted to do
so.
>The high B flat on "chi son" is a high point of this first
>section but not of the whole aria. The tradition that no
>breath should be taken between this note and the following
>ones apparently dates from early in the workžs history: all
>these tenors observe it. The only one who sounds to be
>exerting disproportionate effort on the note is Martinelli.
>Once on the note, however, few attempt the indicated
>diminuendo: those who manage at least a partial softening
>are Bjoerling, Gedda, Gigli II, and Hadley (though he spends
>a minimum of time on the note, not holding it at all). The
>real master here is Bergonzi, who tapers the note meltingly
>(a pleasant surprise after his less than effortless A flat)
>and makes the following phrase a musically coherent
>continuation.
The other tenors also almost all hold it forte, with one really
stunning exception: Prandelli.
>Assorted matters in this opening section: Bonci's quick
>vibrato startles, but such was characteristic of his time
>among tenors (it may have been exaggerated by early
>recording technique).
No, that was how he sang. (See Lauri-Volpi's "Voci parallele"
for a description of Bonci's singing and where it fit into the
history of tenor singing.) Lauri-Volpi's recording also
demonstrates that sort of vibrato (he wrote that he was very
consciously trying to keep that style of singing, which Caruso
did much to kill, alive), as, to a lesser extent, does Tauber's.
Others to actually deliver this line with an awareness of its
meaning include Borgioli, Prandelli (again), Piccaver, Schmidt,
Wittrisch, and Minghetti. So, again, within the confines of a
recording studio (and those confines were considerably more
confining when some of the above recorded) something could be
done to convey the meaning of the words with the inflection of
the voice, to act through sound. Many of the tenors, however,
starting with Caruso, it is quite true, do nothing with this
line.
> Pavarotti
>makes good use of the possibilities of dynamic variety in
>his first recording (for his second he has reverted to a
>"standard" reading), but here again it is Bergonzi who can
>give lessons to all the others: by thinking through the
>plentiful dynamic and other suggestions in the score, he
>brings the moment to life through purely musical and vocal
>means.
But of course, there is no reason why the means should be "purely
musical and vocal". Puccini actually spent more time hammering
out the libretto for this opera than he did writing the music,
and his biggest worry about the theater where is was to receive
its premiere was that the words did not carry. (See his letters
of late 1895/early 1896 to Giulio and Tito Ricordi.) Getting the
words across with the proper feeling was, in fact, so important
to him that he proposed having Blanche Lescaut, a "variety
theater" singer, create Musetta, rather than an opera singer,
because of her ability to put across a text. If he had been
intent on "purely musical and vocal means", Blanche Lescaut would
have been out of the question.
>The third section, "In poverta," brings back Rodolfo's
>lyrical theme from earlier in the act, with the voice as
>accompaniment much of the time. The first vocal entry,
>coming in on the second half of the second beat, can find
>out the inferior musicians among tenors, for they will be
>unwilling to wait for the full duration of such a rest.
>(This has nothing to do with being able to *read* music --
>it's a matter of "hearing" and understanding how one fits
>into the pulse of the music.) Di Stefano and Pavarotti both
>fall short in this respect; as noted earlier, Martinelli is
>surprisingly fallible rhythmically too.
He is better on the 1926 recording, but he is still one of the
sloppiest of the lot when it comes to note values.
>The very gradual crescendo requested during the end of this
>short section is executed satisfyingly by few; not
>surprisingly, for it cannot be done unless the voice is
>functioning freely through the required range. Most make
>the transition to loudness in stages, or in one abrupt jump.
>Bergonzi tries to do it the hard way without quite
>disguising the difficulty. Gedda and Bjoerling make this
>buildup with assured ease and smoothness, no blips along the
>way.
>Finally, the Big Tune, "Talor dal mio forziere" -- the
>moment when, as John Steane puts it, "a tenor comes into his
>kingdom." The very opening of the tune, a leap from E flat
>up to A flat, is a checkpoint, for one wants to hear a
>smooth connection and then a solid and assured tone to carry
>through the rest of the phrase. Like the even crescendo
>just before, this has dramatic relevance, for it constitutes
>the musical analog for Rodolfo's growing assurance and
>ardor.
Actually, Rodolfo's growing assurance and ardor are marked very
clearly by the text. In the next line, he switches from the
formal form of address (Lei) that he had been using since Mimi's
arrival, and which would be the proper form for a man and a woman
who do not know each other, to the intermediate "voi" form:
"V'entrar con VOI pur ora...", with later: "or che mi CONOSCETE,
PARLATE VOI". (At the end of the act, during the love duet, he
will make the second, and even more important switch, with "in TE
vivo raviso il sogno ch'io vorrei sempre sognar", and finally,
"che m'AMI, DI'".)
> Caruso is the paradigm here in many ways, for once
>one has heard his tone open out for this glorious melody,
>few will want to settle for anything else. Domingo, for all
>his slight failures of legato early in the aria (scoops and
>bulges on individual notes), is Caruso's worthy successor
>here, fattening the tone beautifully. Pavarotti does well
>here too, particularly on his earlier recording.
>Bjoerling's success with this effect is worth noting, for
>besides Caruso he is the only tenor able to combine this
>sort of climactic expansion on upper A flat with the ability
>to toss the same note off lightly early in the aria; the
>other tenors have no such freedom of choice.
But then, some of the tenors I have added also do wonder jobs
with this line.
Here listening to more tenors just reinforces Jon Conrad's
observations. Two, however, stick with the original version of
the line, to an extent. Lauri-Volpi keeps the word "dolce"
(omitted from the version that goes to the C), but then goes for
a C anyway, doing a rather sloppy appoggiatura on the way down.
Borgioli actually sings the line as originally written, following
the original note values, but then goes for a what is supposed to
be taken as a C rather than the original D flat. McCormack gets
into real trouble here, as he gets ahead of himself in the words,
and so has no new syllable ("ran") to sing when coming off the
high note, as he has already used it.
>The aftermath of this climax returns to the conversational
>feeling of the opening section. Gigli I can't resist
>sobbing again here (aspirating again too); for the complete
>recording he has improved this aspect. Both times he
>separates the very last note in a curious way, preceding it
>by a grace note from a third below; Martinelli follows this
>practice too.
As do several others, starting with Caruso: Tauber, Lauri-Volpi,
Piccaver, McCormack. (The fact that both Tauber and Piccaver do
it demonstrates that it was not a strictly Italian tradition.)
Peerce does not do it with Toscanini, who conducted the world
premiere, so one might (might) assume that it was not something
Puccini particularly cared for.
Bjorling does not do an appoggiatura on "piaccia", as several of
the others do (Borgioli, Martinelli in 1926, Schmidt, Tauber,
Minghetti). McCormack's is particularly impressive. Again,
Peerce does not do this under Toscanini.
> Di Stefano introduces a hint of laughing
>inflection into this final section. Bjoerling and Gedda
>observe the detailed printed markings (accents on certain
>notes, changes of dynamic) more than the others, to good
>dramatic effect.
>The repeated middle E flats near the end (right on a tenor's
>register-change or "passaggio" point) can give cause for
>anxiety over intonation in live performance. In these
>studio recordings (in Hadley's live performance too) all is
>generally shipshape. Only Pavarotti II's intonation gives
>rise to a twinge or two, and Di Stefano II sounds to be
>handling the challenge with almost pure head voice (or
>falsetto) for the note rather than a balanced registration.
>It would be ridiculous, after all this (and I could have
>gone on much longer), to name a "best" recording among these
>contenders. Nor do I believe that the recording which
>accumulated the most "+" checkmarks at each point along the
>way automatically stacks up the best. My main goal was to
>find out what different sorts of values are provided by the
>many illustrious tenors who have recorded this. I hope I
>have shown that the vocal freedom and mastery of a Bjoerling
>contributes one kind of excellence (this was the original point
>of dispute). So does the commitment and involvement of a Gigli,
>the splendor of a Caruso, the integrity of a McCormack. Our
>current tenors earn a high place for themselves in some
respects,
>a lower one in others.
But a few more notes about the Bjorling performance. One of the
things that has always bothered me about his recorded
performances of Italian opera came back to me when I compared his
recording with the others done in Italian by non-Italians
(Tucker, Kiepura, McCormack, Piccaver, Peerce, Hislop). There
are times when Bjorling either radically mispronounces the
language, or comes up with a word that is altogether different,
which NONE of the other non-native tenors (not to mention the
native ones) do. Where others sing "scialo da gran signore...",
he sings: "scialo sa gran signore". In what Jon Conrad calls the
"big tune", others sing of "tutti i gioielli", he sings something
like: "tutti i giagelli". At the end of the aria, when others
invite Mimi: "Vi piaccia, dir!", he sings something to the effect
of "Vi pia-a, dir!". Some of the non-native tenors have mild
accents in their Italian; that is another matter altogether, and
not, IMHO, an important one. After all, Rodolfo is supposed to
be French, anyway. But again, given how much time Puccini spent
working on the libretto, and given how very good it is, I find it
annoying that there are times when Bjorling simply does not sing
what was written, and what everyone else manages to sing. (And
he does this throughout his recordings, and not just here.) I do
not know whether or not he spoke Italian, but since some of the
others, like Peerce, did/do not either, that is in a sense
irrelevant. It seems, rather, to stem from Bjorling's general
indifference to the specific words he is singing. He conveys the
general sense, but too often, for me, does not bother with the
specific meaning of specific, important words. For those who do
not know Italian, and listen just to the music, that will not be
a problem, of course, but since this opera, at least, was very
definitely written to be understood as a sung text, and since
others manage to bring that about, I find Bjorling's failure to
do so rather annoying, and difficult to forgive.
Certainly this, too, is part of musicianship. If Puccini wrote
"dolcissimo" to guide the delivery of the line "Ma il furto non
m'accora", following that direction (which Bjorling, along with
some of the others discussed above, does not) is no less
important than observing a diminuendo or a crescendo. Some
things even Puccini did not write into the score: when Rodolfo
makes a joke, of sorts, in describing Mimi's "occhi belli" as the
thieves who robbed his strong-box, Gigli (1938) puts a smile in
the sound of his voice. Prandelli does a good job of separating
the words from the rest of the phrase, so that one actually hears
what is written, "Talor dal mio forziere ruban tutti i gioielli
due ladri: gli occhi belli", rather than "... due ladri gli occhi
belli", which makes no sense (though, unfortunately, that is how
many of the above singers deliver the line). When you listen to
20 some tenors do the aria over the course of several hours, you
are reminded how important the text is, and how much can/needs to
be done to convey it in the sound of the voice, because you hear
again what a fine job some have done to bring that about.
>Jon Alan Conrad
Mike Quigley
His mention of David Hamilton brought back fond memories of High Fidelity and
some lengthy articles which Hamilton wrote on Schoenberg and the like.
I wonder, Jon, do you know why Gene Lees left High Fidelity? Did he quit, or
was he "fired"? Lees was the resident pop columnist back in the 60's and he
wrote some very heavy articles which attacked the pop music establishment,
not to mention certain political figures. I never understood why he just
seemed to disappear one issue.
Also ... what is the scoop on Royal S. Brown. I remember in an early issue of
Fanfare when he joined them he did a real number on High Fidelity as well...
--
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Jon Conrad
>...mention of David Hamilton brought back fond memories of High Fidelity and
>some lengthy articles which Hamilton wrote on Schoenberg and the like.
His book LISTENER'S GUIDE TO THE GREAT INSTRUMENTALISTS is worth looking
up. (I've seen it remaindered for $1 a copy; buy up a whole pile if you
find it.) He combines an explanation of what instrumental soloists do
with good entry-level desriptions of how chamber and concerto music is
structured, and also with a knowledgeable survey of historical
recordings by great instrumentalists of the past. What a shame that
difficulties with publishers precluded the completion of the two planned
follow-ups: ...SINGERS and ...CONDUCTORS.
>I wonder, Jon, do you know why Gene Lees left High Fidelity? Did he quit, or
>was he "fired"?
I really have no inside knowledge about this. It's not hard to guess,
though, that his commitment to traditional popular music was not in tune
with the publisher's need to retain younger readers.
>Also ... what is the scoop on Royal S. Brown. I remember in an early issue of
>Fanfare when he joined them he did a real number on High Fidelity as well...
Again, no special knowledge. Knowing some of the people he slammed in
that famous FANFARE article, though, I would say that Mr. Brown is
rather full of himself. He seems to resent being edited at all. If he
was hurt at not being accorded the "no editorial intervention" status a
few senior writers had at HF, it should be remembered that they earned
the privilege by writing constantly for more than a decade before he
showed up. At the very least, there's probably another side to his
story.
Jon Alan Conrad
Chris Brewster
>I wonder, Jon, do you know why Gene Lees left High Fidelity? Did
>he quit, or was he "fired"?
I really have no inside knowledge about this. It's not hard to
guess, though, that his commitment to traditional popular music
was not in tune with the publisher's need to retain younger readers.
Somewhere I saw Lees's termination discussed but I suppose it wasn't
within the pages of High Fidelity. The reason was as Jon stated it.
Lees still does a newsletter whose title I don't know. A few years ago
he had a book out called "The Singer and the Song". Since I'm part of
the generation that HF was presumably trying to please by canning any
further discussion of Sinatra etc, the loss of his column raises for me
the question of whether a music magazine should simply reinforce
readers' current prejudices and limitations, or should it attempt to
broaden readers' interests? I'm glad I had a chance to read Lees over
the years because he lowered the barrier to appreciating a large body of
good music.
Chris Brewster E-MAIL ADDRESS: c...@cray.com
Mike Quigley
>
> Jon Conrad writes:
>
> [in response to my question]
> >I wonder, Jon, do you know why Gene Lees left High Fidelity? Did
> >he quit, or was he "fired"?
>
> I really have no inside knowledge about this. It's not hard to
> guess, though, that his commitment to traditional popular music
> was not in tune with the publisher's need to retain younger readers.
>
> Somewhere I saw Lees's termination discussed but I suppose it wasn't
> within the pages of High Fidelity. The reason was as Jon stated it.
> Lees still does a newsletter whose title I don't know.
As far as I know, Lees runs some publication devoted to jazz. I don't think
his departure from High Fidelity was so simple. He was very
anti-establishment, accusing, for example, RCA of being hypocrites for
putting out records by the Jefferson Airplane knocking the Vietnamese War at
the same time they were making sophisticated electronic equipment used for
military purposes. He also had some very nasty things to say about drugs, Bob
Dylan, and various other hot topics.
Lees also has authored a few books, I think one of them is about Oscar
Peterson.
baman...@gmail.com
Thank you for a wonderful exposition and with such humility