The Te Deum is a Latin Christian hymn that dates to the third centuries A.D. Its name is derived from its incipit, Te Deum laudamus, Latin for “Thee, O God, we praise.” Originally ascribed to Saint Ambrose or Saint Augustine, the hymn has been transcribed hundreds of times over by composers throughout history. The present release is a collection of some of the most popular Te Deum compositions from the last several hundred years, from Baroque to Contemporary, with works by Braunfels, Berlioz, Dvorák, Bruckner, Naumann, Händel and Bizet in reference recordings of leading orchestras and soloists, including the Staatskapelle Dresden, WDR Sinfonieorchester Köln, Bach-Collegium Stuttgart, and Gächinger Kantorei.

Featuring a front-line cast (Rysanek, Frick, Suthaus, Hotter, Nilsson, etc...) that sends Wagner aficionados into states of reverie at the prospect of listening once again to the authoritative, superlative singing casts one could assemble in the 1950's, this amazing performance of the second opera in the "Nibelungen" tetralogy also proves that conductor Herbert von Karajan live was, like the singers, in a class of his own in the 1950's as well. His few surviving Wagner recordings from this period, like this La Scala 1958 Die Wälkure, are a must for every Wagner connoisseur.

The unforgettable passion and intensity that soprano Leonie Rysanek and baritone George London brought to their most famous pairing in Wagner's Der fliegende Hollander is well-represented here as well on this recording of a 1955 live performance of Tchaikovsky's Eugen Onegin, starring Ms. Rysanek as Tatyana and Mr. London as Onegin. Though already becoming less common at the time, the opera is sung in German translation rather than Russian for the Austrian audience in attendance. This historic recording has been remastered in 24bit/96kHz sound.

A thrilling performance by a first-rate cast recorded in mono sound so good that one forgets it’s almost “historical”.

Even allowing for the cuts so often made during this era at the Metropolitan Opera, this is one of the swiftest of the live four Act versions. The sound is really very good for a mono radio broadcast. Consequently it gives you a compelling sense of the excitement of the occasion under the experienced baton of Kurt Adler, who had conducted a similarly distinguished cast in this opera in 1955. The cuts – the whole of the Fontainebleau Act, this being the four Act version, plus excisions in the Third Act auto-da fé and the final sublime duet – are all the more regrettable considering that Corelli never made a studio recording of “Don Carlo”. We must be grateful for what we have. It was a favourite opera that saw Corelli through the seventies until he had virtually retired; he clearly identified with the haunted, neurotic Carlos.

The cast features five established Met stalwarts in Corelli, Leonie Rysanek, Irene Dalis, Giorgio Tozzi and Hermann Uhde; in addition, the distinguished Romanian baritone Nicolae Herlea was making his Met debut in the role of Posa.

Many consider this to be the best of the available live performances of Corelli as Don Carlo, although the 1970 Vienna recording also has much to recommend it in that it has a superlative cast and gives little sign of Corelli’s supposed vocal deterioration by this date. Here in 1964, the famous bronze squillo in the tone and the expressive diminuendo are both much in evidence, as is Corelli’s artistic licence - which some call sloppiness. There is also his pronounced lisp, which on the evidence of the duet from”Aida” he made around the same time with Callas seemed particularly pronounced that year.

Apart from the expected pre-eminence of Corelli in the eponymous leading role, the special pleasure for me in this performance is Herlea’s vibrant, Italianate baritone as Posa. He was evidently determined not to be over-awed either by the occasion or his temperamental tenor colleague. He matches Corelli in volume and intensity, sustaining a nobility of line and brilliance of tone which is well nigh perfect for this heroic baritone role. He has splendid top notes and even a good trill. Corelli seems to fear that he is in danger of being eclipsed by his stage-mate and consequently throws in a slightly precarious and not very musical high C to conclude their duet in Act 1, “Dio che nell’alma infondere”.

Irene Dalis, despite not having the largest or most refulgent of mezzo-sopranos is clearly a very intelligent and able singer who has the resources to manage both the “Veil Song” and “O don fatale” – not always the case with this role. She has a vibrant, smoky, seductive timbre which is ideal and handles the coloratura in a way that is adept and agile. She is also a good vocal actress who sounds both vindictive then truly remorseful without resorting to over-emoting.

Giorgi Tozzi, who died last May (2011) at 88, was originally a baritone. Occasionally that shows in a lack of sonorousness in his low notes, such as on the low F at the end of his monologue and some loss of resonance in his soft singing. He is more impressive in louder passages when his steady, imposing tone cuts through the surrounding textures. I find his characterisation of the weary king a little applied and blustery. He too often sounds angry rather than melancholy and thus lacks the massive inwardness found in the Philip of Christoff, Siepi and Ghiaurov. He also has a tendency to drift sharp in the soliloquy but his confrontations with Il Grande Inquisitore and Rodrigo are both stirring and dramatic, if not very subtle. Uhde is black and menacing of voice but struggles with his top E and F.

Justino Diaz is noble, steady and implacable as the Friar/Carlo Quinto. It’s a part which although brief must not be under-cast if the opening and ending of the opera are to make the required impact.

In my survey of the singers thus far, you will note that I have left Leonie Rysanek till last. This is because I cannot quite decide what I think about her Elisabetta. I am used to the fact that in live performance she usually took a while to warm up and that the strange, hoarse croon in the lower ranges of the voice would ease off as the opera progressed. I continue to be delighted by her shining top notes and the amplitude of the sound she makes but equally irritated by her habitual swoop and scoop in to phrases. The dark colouring and occasional hoarseness in her tone is in many ways redolent of the unrelenting sorrow and suffering undergone by Elisabetta, that most doleful of Verdi heroines. She rises to her last great aria, floating notes exquisitely on “Francia” and “Fontainebleau” and delivers superb top Bs and B flats which sound almost disjointed from the main body of her voice. She certainly creates a rounded character and always delivers the text convincingly but listening is not always comfortable when she is “wallowing” into a note. She was always a favourite with the Met audience which responds enthusiastically to all the artists here.

The standard of instrumental playing is variable; neither of the introductions to Acts 3 and 4 constitutes the orchestra’s finest hour and intonation can waver alarmingly. By and large though Adler directs a tight ship.

This, alongside the 1968 “Die Walküre”, is probably the most desirable issue so far in this Sony Metropolitan series. It certainly represents the best of Corelli in this particular opera but is more than that. It enshrines a thrilling performance by a first-rate cast recorded in mono sound so good that one forgets it’s almost “historical”. There are many good recordings of this opera but none encompasses all its demands. Most serious collectors will want several versions of both the four and five Act versions in Italian and the French recording conducted by Pappano. In that context, there is certainly room for this slim and very affordable issue on your shelves.

There is a synopsis and cues but obviously no libretto, this being a budget set.

-- Ralph Moore, MusicWeb International

This recording, live from the Vienna State Opera in 1955, was taped just weeks before virtually the same cast (there's only one major difference) entered the studio and recorded it for Decca. The performances are remarkably similar: Karl Böhm, a master of this complex, beautiful score, presents it almost complete (there are, I believe, very small cuts here and there) and has assembled a superb, enthralled, and enthralling cast. The one major change from the studio recording is that whereas Paul Schöffler was the Barak for Decca, here we get Ludwig Weber, whose voice may be somewhat less beautiful than Schöffler's, but is easily as expressive, endearing, and impressive.

Leonie Rysanek is the familiar Empress, seemingly hypnotized and enchanted, her voice settling down after some initial pitch problems mid-range to offer a glorious reading, with gleaming, cutting top notes and true sentiment throughout. She makes us feel for the character and her plight. Her Emperor is the beefy tenor Hans Hopf, who is less crude than usual and has the notes and stamina for the role, particularly in the seemingly endless final scene, which, when presented as complete as is it here, can be quite a challenge.

As the Dyer's Wife, Christel Goltz is not quite in the same class with the others; her singing is secure and good enough but she lacks any subtlety and can't compare with, say, Christa Ludwig in the role. Elisabeth Höngen's Nurse is nasty and biting, and she gets through the role without shouting. Kurt Böhme's Messenger is potent and the rest of the cast--Vienna stalwarts from the '50s--is top notch.

Böhm captures just the correct otherworldliness of the music, and the Vienna Philharmonic, tam tam, gongs and all, plays with great feeling and love. The sound is pure, clear monaural (the studio recording is early stereo but is essentially no better), with even the harps audible; Strauss' exotica is underlined but not so prominent that we can't hear the gorgeously tonal score. The vibrancy of the live experience is thrilling. If you own the Decca, you won't need this, really, but you must own one or the other.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com