"Levine is equally successful with Cavalleria rusticana, of which he gives one of the most compelling accounts available on disc. Scotto and Domingo bring Santuzza and Turiddu excitingly to life."
-- Charles Osborne, BBC Music Magazine

"the Scotto/Domingo set now stands as a first recommnendastion for Mascagni's red-blooded opera, with Domingo giving a heroic accoungt of the rolee of Turiddu, full of deciance...James Levine directs with a splended sensse of pacing..."
-- Penguin Guide [2003/4 Edition]

• The inaugural broadcast of the Peabody and Emmy®-award winning series The Met Live in HD.
• The Magic Flute has delighted audiences of all ages for centuries. Julie Taymor’s dazzling English-language production brings one of Mozart’s greatest works to life as never before.
• James Levine leads a cast that includes Ying Huang as Pamina in her Met debut, Nathan Gunn, Matthew Polenzani, Erika Miklosa and Rene Papa.
• Taken from the December 30, 2006 live performance.
• Aspect Ratio: 1.78:1

Performances of The Flying Dutchman stand or fall by the ability of the lead bass-baritone to project the anguished, world-weary yet demonic nature of the accursed seafarer. I was not expecting a definitive reading from James Morris, whose Wotan has often tended towards the bland. But his darkly despairing Monologue is very impressive and comes closer to the superb Fischer-Dieskau (with Konwitschny, available on Berlin Classics) than most recent versions.

-- BBC Music Magazine

This is a distinctively sung, vigorously, often sensitively conducted and played, faithfully recorded reading of the old favourite that should please anyone looking for a well-integrated modern version. My enthusiasm goes rather further in the case of Millo's reading of the title role. In the interview on page 1968, the diva tells us that she has listened to most of the notable interpreters from the past, distant and not so distant, and the study shows not in any imitative way but in an authentically spinto kind of singing that has been hard to discern in other recent renderings. The firm yet vibrant, dark-hued, voluptuous tone is leavened by an appealing brightness at the top and an ability to float that is wholly natural, never contrived. Listen to "Pieta ti prenda" in the scene with Amneris or "Numi pieta" at its end and you'll hear how Millo is able to shade her timbre and her phrasing in a way that ideally matches the music.

The conflicting emotions of "Ritorna vincitor" are faithfully delineated, the reflective, elegiac mood of "0 patria mia" perfectly caught, with the final awkward passage managed par excellence. Still better is the instinctively right shading in "La, tra, foreste vergine" in the Act 3 duet with Radames and the poised singing of "0 terra addio" in the finale (although she here fails one dolcissimo test). In these examples the voice is all of a piece and the legato seamless. All this confirms the excellent impression Mil lo made on me when the opera was televized from the Metropolitan a couple of years back, a performance that delighted not a few seasoned buffs. After hearing the whole interpretation, I took down from the shelves some famous prima donne on disc: Millo was shown to be more youthful than Milanov on the Perlea/RCA (but it's that great diva at her best that Millo most potently recalls), more vocally appealing than Tebaldi for Karajan (Decca), more reliable in voice than Callas for Serafin/EMI (though not so unique in accents), more involved and as technically skilled than Price (in her first version on Decca under Solti), fuller in tone than Caballe (Muti/EMI). I wouldn't claim that in every respect Millo is superior to these formidable sopranos or to Giannini on the old HMV set now on Rodolphe/Harmonia Mundi and Pearl, simply that she is at least their peer on this evidence.

Millo is the most urgent reason for acquiring this set, but she is worthily supported by Domingo, offering his fourth and, I would judge, best Radames to date. Try "Celeste Aida", or even better the start of the final scene, to learn how much more refined the great tenor's reading has become. In the latter passage, he sings in a mezza voce he has never attempted in the past; indeed, throughout, the approach is more thoughtful. In forte the voice may be very marginally more stretched than, say, in Muti's 1974 set, still a very strong contender, but the difference is slight. When he is finally gone from the scene, we shall treasure his sterling performances, even if we shall still think in this instance that Pertile (Sabajno), Corelli (Mehta/EMI) and Vickers (Sol ti) are the ones with true Radames voices. By the way, at the end of his aria Levine and Domingo opt for the Toscanini solution—forte high B flat followed by a piano B flat an octave lower.

So much more at home in Verdi than he is in Mozart and Wagner, James Levine conducts a performance that captures the cut and thrust of the public scenes in the first part of the opera and the private anxieties and confrontations of the second. Learning a great deal from Toscanini's reading (RCA), he reveals details of orchestration often overlooked by other conductors though certainly not by Muti. His matching of tempos and general pacing (though some speeds, like that for the final scene, are on the slow side) seem to me well conceived and attentive to the histrionic needs of the well-tried piece. He is supported by the Met orchestra, once more in splendid form. The chorus is, for better and worse, not Italianate, that is to say it is more precise, less wobbly than the choruses on some other versions, but also wanting a shade in pungency.

I shall not be dispensing with my Callas/Serafin set or my Caballe/Muti or the readings headed by Giannini (Sabajno) and Milanov (Perlea), all of which are well-tried, treasurable experiences. But the new contender, which has many similarities with the grandly sung Solti (down to the feeling that one is sitting rather near the brass), deserves to be heard in their company, most of all for its very special Aida.

-- Gramophone [5/1991]

It really is a problem, choosing between these two recordings. (Giordano: Andrea Chénier / Pavarotti, Caballé, Chailly) It might seem sensible to start with the tenor in the title-role, and here my strong inclination would be to plump for RCA and Domingo: he is in splendid voice, with a touch of nobility to his manner that makes for a convincing portrayal of a poet. Pavarotti (for Chailly on Decca) begins with a rather leather-lunged Improvviso, but he later finds poetry in the role as well, especially when responding to his soprano, Caballe who is rather stretched by the more exhausting reaches of her role and sounds audibly grateful for the occasional opportunities he gives her to float rather than belt a high-lying phrase. And besides, Pavarotti is an Italian tenor, and his Italianate sense of line adds 1 per cent or so of elegance to some phrases that even Domingo cannot match. Caballe does many things beautifully, and her fine-spun pianissimos and subtle shadings only occasionally sound mannered, but the role is undeniably half-a-size too big for her. So it is for Scotto, you might say, and a hint of strain is audible once or twice, in her timbre rather than her phrasing. It is her phrasing, indeed, that tips the balance back to RCA: Scotto is as subtle a vocalist as Caballe, but she gives meaning and eloquence to every phrase without ever breaking the long line, which one cannot always say of the Spanish soprano. Matters are about even as far as the baritones are concerned: Milnes acts admirably, but refrains from over-acting, and the voice is rich and characterful. Nucci for Chailly is a bit less compelling dramatically, but the voice strikes me as more integrated, more even, than Milnes's, and thus, again, is more Italianate in its line. Decca field a sumptuous supporting cast (Astrid Varnay, worn of voice but full of character as the Countess, Christa Ludwig, no less, in the ten lines of Madelon's part, Tom Krause as a fine Roucher, Giorgio Tadeo an implacable Mathieu), but RCA's striking Bersi, vividly characterized Irtcredibile, and their Roucher, too, are not outmatched (only their Madelon, both fruity and acid—a grapefruit of a voice—is disappointing). A lot of people will enjoy the huge energy and bustle of Levine's direction. It is vividly characterful, but to my taste a shade exhausting and over-assertive. The flow of the music seems more natural in Chailly's hands, and orchestral detail is clearer. The Decca recording, too, is warmer than the RCA, which has a slight edge to it. Even so, for Scotto's sake and to a slightly lesser extent for Domingo's, I think I would choose RCA, but that would mean rejecting Chailly, Pavarotti and the Decca recording … As I say, it is really a problem.

-- Michael Oliver, Gramophone [9/1989]

Time flies in the supposedly timeless world of classical music. It's easy to forget superb performances of even the greatest masterpieces when confronted with dozens, indeed hundreds, of recordings that differ from one another audibly, but often not all that significantly. So it is with this Mahler First, certainly one of the freshest and most vibrant performances, but one that also tends to get lost in the shuffle. The playing of the LSO is terrific: the scherzo bids fair to be the best on disc, but then Levine seems unusually energized and spontaneous throughout. Only the opening of the finale fails to erupt with the kind of violence that others (Bernstein especially) bring to it. Levine seems a mite hasty here, not giving the brass enough time to really bite as they should. But this also is the result of sonics that are dry in the bass and not all that wide-ranging compared with today's digital norm. Still, despite this minor caveat, this is an outstanding performance in all other respects, and moreover one that will sound well on iPods, in cars, and in all of those places where soft passages tend to vanish annoyingly in a welter of ambient noise. It certainly deserves to remain available, and thanks to Arkivmusic.com "on demand", it will be.

--David Hurwitz,ClassicsToday.com

MAHLER Symphony No. 4 • James Levine, cond; Judith Blegen (sop); Chicago SO • RCA 59413 (57:58)


Gustav Mahler’s symphonies can work with so many different approaches (unlike the symphonies of most composers) that to pick any one recording of any of the symphonies and call it a “classic” is inviting argument and trouble, yet this specific recording of this particular symphony certainly qualifies in my book. Made in 1976, it has withstood not only the challenges of virtually every recording that came after it but has superceded most of its predecessors.


It took me several decades to realize that James Levine took his inspiration for this performance from the very odd recording of this symphony by Willem Mengelberg and the Concertgebouw Orchestra. Mengelberg slows down certain passages, especially in the first movement, so much that the motor rhythm practically stops, and this has been heavily criticized over the years, but he also imbued the music with an almost demonic intensity that took it away from the placid overview of the symphony as “a child’s view of heaven” and placed it into another realm. Levine borrowed the intense aspects of Mengelberg’s vision, but played the symphony in tempos much closer to those prescribed by Mahler, with the result being this classic of the phonograph.


Judith Blegen, though a fine and very musical soprano, does not have the finest voice for this music (that honor goes to Kathleen Battle, in her CBS recording with Lorin Maazel), yet she is quite good, and the overall impact of this recording is such that all subsequent interpretations are compared to it. That, in itself, qualifies this recording as Hall of Fame material.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley