Despite the (mainly traditional) cuts, this 1955 BBC broadcast is treasurable. Not only does it feature Joan Sutherland’s touchingly pure and limpid Euryanthe – a role she only sang this once – but it also extends the small discography of Frans Vroons, in a lyric-heroic role which could have been written for him. Marianne Schech and Otakar Kraus are matchless villains, Kurt Bohme a comfortable King. Yet perhaps the performance’s prime virtue is the candescent conducting of Fritz Stiedry. His visionary readings of the familiar Overture and the desolate Prelude to Act 3 are heightened by unusually good broadcast sound, captured by the late Richard Itter on state-of-the-art equipment. This thrilling Euryanthe fully vindicates Weber’s – and Chezy’s –achievement.

-----

REVIEW:

Despite big cuts (including around 20 minutes’ worth of Act 3), this is a well-prepared performance of considerable merits. Not the least of these is the proof that Joan Sutherland could indeed have made a serious career in the dramatic German Fach: she sounds an outstandingly fluent and natural exponent of the titlerole. Conductor Fritz Stiedry’s preserved Wagner performances are often a little spotty but here he seems in well-ordered control of everything. All the other major roles are on committed top form.

– Gramophone

This complete performance was a BBC studio recording, broadcast on 11 March 1956. The source recording is part of the 'Itter Broadcast Collection' held by Lyrita Recorded Edition Trust. For this BBC studio recording the assembled cast presents all that was best in British singing of the time. It also captures Joan Sutherland - one of the greatest divas of any time - at an interim point in her early career. She had sung her first major role (Amelia, Un ballo in maschera) at Covent Garden in 1952. She had taken part in Britten's Gloriana (1953) and created the role of Jennifer in Tippet's The Midsummer Marriage (1955), but the 'bel canto' roles that would define her career did not appear until 1959 when she sung Lucia di Lammermoor at the Royal Opera House.

Boris Christoff
CD 1 [70:19] Italian Opera
Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756 – 1791)
Don Giovanni
1. Madamina! Il catalogo e questo [5:35]
Antonio CALDARA (1670 – 1736)
2. Come raggio di sol [3:12]
Vincenzo BELLINI (1801 – 1835)
Norma
3. Ite sul colle [10:13]
La sonnambula
4. Il mulino! Il fonte! … Vi ravviso [5:00]
Giuseppe VERDI (1813 – 1901)
Nabucco
5. Sperate, o figli! … D’Egitto la sui lidi [4:58]
6. Oh chi piange? … Del futuro nel bujo discerno [4:47]
La forza del destino
7. Il santo nome di Dio [6:54]
Simon Boccanegra
8. A te l’estremo addio … Il lacerate spirito [5:53]
Ernani
9. Che mai veggio! … Infelice … L’offeso onor [6:50]
Don Carlo
10. Ella giammai m’amo … Dormiro sol [9:14]
Arrigo BOITO (1847 – 1918)
Mefistofele
11. Ave Signor! [3:55]
12. Son lo spirito che nega [3:48]



CD 2 [71:56]
Russian Opera
Modest MUSSORGSKY (1839 – 1881)
Boris Godunov
1. Prologue: Coronation Scene [10:53]
2. Act 1. Pimen’s monologue [5:52]
3. Act 1. Varlaam’s song [2:33]
4. Act 2. Boris’s monologue [6:05]
5. Act 2. Clock scene [3:58]
6. Act 4. Farewell and Death of Boris [11:46]
Khovanshchina
7. Dosifey’s aria [6:22]
Nikolai RIMSKY-KORSAKOV (1844 – 1908)
Sadko
8. Song of the Viking Merchant [3:46]
The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh
9. O vain illusion [4:27]
Pyotr TCHAIKOVSKY (1840 – 1893)
Eugene Onegin
10. Everyone knows love on earth [4:55]
Alexander BORODIN (1833 – 1887)
Prince Igor
11. Prince Galitsky’s aria [3:52]
12. Konchak’s aria [7:23]


CD 3 [72:25]
Russian Songs and Sacred Music
Alexander SEROV (1820 – 1871)
1. Shrove Tuesday [4:39]
Traditional Songs
2. Song of the lumberjacks [5:00]
3. The Bandore [3:29]
4. Down Peterskaya Street [2:13]
5. Going down the Volga [3:40]
6. The lonely autumn night [5:22]
7. Psalm 137. By the waters of Babylon [5:25]
Mikhail STROKINE (1832 – 1887)
8. Prayer to St. Simeon [2:36]
Pavel CHESNOKOV (1877 – 1944)
9. Lord have mercy on our people [4:00]
Trad.
10. The song of the twelve robbers [5:56]
Alexander GRECHANINOV (1864 – 1956)
11. Litany [6:02]
Trad.
12. Siberian prisoner’s song [4:17]
Modest MUSSORGSKY
Songs and Dances of Death
13. No 4 Field-Marshal Death [4:55]
14. The Grave [3:44]
15. Softly the spirit flies up to heaven [3:15]
LISHKIN (? - ?)
16. She mocked [3:32]
Trad
17. Song of the Volga boatmen [4:20]


One of the greatest singing artists ever recorded.

Some later recordings of Boris Christoff, expressive and dramatically convincing though they invariably are, can be vocally rather gruff. On these early examples there is very little of that characteristic. The overriding impression is, on the contrary, of an uncommonly sonorous voice with brilliant top notes and a beautiful pianissimo that few other basses have ever been able to muster. Where he sometimes momentarily falters is in the lowest reaches of the voice. He has all the notes that are required but they can sometimes be weak and even slightly unsteady. What impresses most of all is his ability to go to the core of the music, whether it be an aria or a simple song. Like his contemporary baritone colleague – and brother-in-law – Tito Gobbi he was a unique singing-actor, and created a number of deeply penetrating portraits of some of the great bass roles.


The first disc in this volume is devoted to Italian opera. It gives a rare opportunity to hear him in a Mozart role. Considering his histrionic powers one would expect his Leporello to be callous and cynical. It isn’t. This is a man-servant with a heart of gold and his warm reading of the catalogue aria leads us to believe that he feels compassion for poor Elvira. Well, there is a hint of a mocking laughter near the end, but that’s all.


The Caldara aria, with Gerald Moore at the piano, is sung with restraint and honeyed tone. It is hard to believe that this finely honed reading comes from a man with such tremendous vocal resources.


The following six tracks are from a 1955 recital, recorded in Rome with the always responsive Vittorio Gui at the helm of the orchestra and chorus of the Rome Opera. The aria from Norma, preceded by almost 3½ minutes orchestral introduction, is monumental with the male chorus really on their toes. The Sonnambula aria has similarities to Chaliapin’s recording but is warmer, though maybe less elegant than Siepi’s. As Zaccaria in Nabucco he has authority and sings with unerring dramatic intensity. In Il santo nome from La forza del destino my favourite recording has always been Ezio Pinza’s from the late 1920s. Christoff’s reading may be deeper but Pinza’s noble tone still wins the day, if only by a hair’s breadth. Fiesco’s aria from Simon Boccanegra has the nobility that may be lacking in the Forza excerpt but his lowest notes are a bit sketchy.


The four remaining items on CD 1 are all from his earliest recording period, 1949 – 1951. The brilliance in the Ernani aria is truly glorious and there is ‘go’ in the cabaletta. Karajan and the Philharmonia provide ideally refined background for Filippo’s monologue from Don Carlo – a reading that few have surpassed. He recorded the opera complete twice – first in the mid-1950s in the four-act version and then in the early 1960s in the five-act version – both times with Gabriele Santini conducting. The later of them, on DG, was my introduction to this opera and Christoff’s Filippo is still the one that looms in my memory. However I have to admit nowadays that his reading then was a bit cruder than on the earlier one. Best of all, though, is the version with Karajan, on this disc – inward and deeply moving. The two arias from Mefistofele are vital and outgoing with virtuoso playing from the Philharmonia.


Filippo was one of Christoff’s signature roles, but he is even more strongly connected with the title role in Boris Godunov, which he also recorded twice. In fact he also sang both Pimen and Varlaam on both sets. On CD 2 we get some substantial excerpts from the first recording, conducted by Issay Dobrowen. It should be noted, though, that only tracks 1, 4 and 5 are from the complete set. Pimen’s and Varlaam’s solos as well as The Death of Boris were recorded separately a couple of years earlier. In each of the numbers he surpasses all the existing competition, possibly bar Chaliapin, whose Boris was of similar status. Both singers’ readings are necessary listening for anyone who wants to come to grips with this ill-fated Tsar. The depth of feeling and insight is almost unbearable. Masterly is the only word for it. He also makes the most of the other Russian arias. I learnt these – and also most of the Boris Godunov excerpts – through a DG recording with the great Finnish Bass Kim Borg in the mid-1960s, but good though he is – and I couldn’t resist a rehearing of some of them – he can’t quite challenge Christoff. The latter has more face. It should be said that a practically identical programme of Russian arias – these same recordings – was issued just about a year ago on EMI’s GROC label and readers who have already invested in that issue may hesitate about getting the present issue. The Italian programme is, to my knowledge, harder to come by separately and the Russian songs and sacred music on CD 3 is another asset. The first eleven were recorded with the admirable Feodor Potorzhinski Choir.


Many readers may have some favourite songs here and they are sensitively and beautifully sung with Christoff’s usual care for expression. Tracks 3 and 4 – The Bandore and Down Peterskaya Street are particular favourites with me, and the Song of the twelve robbers is another dear friend. Even better as an interpretation is the Siberian prisoner’s song; this is a performance with penetrating psychology, not just superb singing. This and the three Mussorgsky songs, all four recorded in 1951 with Gerald Moore at the piano, are among the greatest song interpretations ever set down. Strong words, no doubt, but I can’t really see any valid counter-arguments. Hans Hotter and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau were on the same exalted level but not necessarily better. The encore, Song of the Volga boatmen, is also masterly in the total control of dynamics.


To me Boris Christoff was unable to sing a dull tone. He is without doubt one of the greatest singing artists ever recorded. As always Nimbus also provide well researched biographical notes by Alan Bilgora. And the sound is as good as the original shellacs or early LPs allowed. Don’t miss this one!


 


-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



BORIS CHRISTOFF • Boris Christoff (bs); various assisting artists • NIMBUS 7961/3, mono (3 CDs: 214:40)


MOZART Don Giovanni: Madamina! Il catalogo e questo. CALDARA Come raggio di sol. BELLINI Norma: Ite sul colle, o Druidi. La sonnambula: Il mulino!…Vi ravviso. VERDI Nabucco: Sperate, o figli!…d’Egitto la sui lidi; Oh chi piange? … Del futuro. La forza del destino: Il santo nome di Dio. Simon Boccanegra: Il lacerato spirito. Ernani: Che mai veggio! … Infelice. Don Carlo: Ella giammai m’amo…Dormiro sol. BOITO Mefistofele: Ave Signor; Son lo spirito che nega. RIMSKY-KORSAKOV Sadko: Song of the Viking Merchant. Invisible City of Kitezh: O Vain Illusion. MUSSORGSKY Boris Godunov: Prologue, Coronation Scene; Pimen’s Monologue; In the Town of Kazan; I Have Attained the Highest Power; Clock Scene; Farewell and Death of Boris. Songs and Dances of Death: Field Marshal Death. Khovanschina: Dosifey’s Aria. The Grave. Softly the Spirit Flies up to Heaven. BORODIN Prince Igor: Prince Galitzky’s Aria. Khan Kontchak’s Aria. SEROV Shrove Tuesday. CHESNOKOV Lord, Have Mercy on Our People. GRETCHANINOV Litany. STROKINE Prayer to St. Simeon. LISHKIN She Mocked Me. FOLK SONGS Song of the Lumberjacks. The Bandore. Down the Petersky. Going Down the Volga. The Lonely Autumn Night. Psalm 137, “By the waters of Babylon.” Song of the 12 Robbers. Siberian Prisoner’s Song. Song of the Volga Boatmen


This stupendous collection of really top-drawer recordings, all made between 1949 and 1955, catches Boris Christoff in his magnificent early prime. This was the era in which he was first, and most often, compared to Feodor Chaliapin, and with good reason: In many of these scenes and arias, he lifted Chaliapin’s interpretations wholesale from the old records. Of course, if he hadn’t had a great dramatic instinct and hadn’t been such a riveting stage actor, the comparison might have faded away, and imitation certainly is the sincerest form of flattery.


Without going into each CD in too much detail, what I found interesting was that some of the little mannerisms that became his trademarks—particularly that little downward portamento on low notes at the ends of phrases—were far less noticeable in the 1949–50 recordings than later on. He was also less “snarly” during this period. By the time 1955 rolled around, it seemed as if everything he sang had an undercurrent of menace or a snarl in the voice, however magnificent the sound of his instrument, but the early recordings of Varlaam’s song from Boris Godunov and Leporello’s catalog aria from Don Giovanni have more lightness and humor about them. The 1950 version of King Philip’s “Dormiro sol” from Don Carlo is very slowly conducted by Herbert von Karajan, but Christoff, again, responds with a much subtler and less overbearing interpretation than he did on his 1952 recording of the complete opera with Stella, Filippeschi, and Gobbi (who was his brother-in-law, something I didn’t know).


Throughout his career, Christoff was as legendary for his arrogant and aloof treatment of colleagues as for his brilliant stage characterizations, but in the biographical notes it is mentioned that he was, even in his late 20s, a shy and often reluctant solo singer. It’s quite possible that in addition to the vocal training he received, his teacher Riccardo Stracciari also influenced his high-handedness by feeding his ego. There never seemed to be any real reason for his acting this way—every single one of his colleagues admired his talent and considered him one of the finest singing-actors of his time—but Christoff persisted in treating each and every one of them like crap. One might have thought that his developing a brain tumor in the late 1960s and having to fight his way back to sing again, which he did and gloriously so with no loss of tone or power, might have humbled him a little, but by all reports this was not so.


CD 3 contained the greatest surprise for me, an entire album with Russian choir and (on some numbers) a balalaika orchestra, similar in concept and layout (though with completely different songs) to Nicolai Gedda’s best-selling album of the early 1960s, Evening Bells. Again, Christoff is at his best here, including two more Chaliapin specialties, Down the Petersky and the Gretchaninov Litany. Perhaps the most surprising track of all, to me, is the arie antiche of Caldara, Come raggio di sol, sung with wonderful lightness to Gerald Moore’s typically splendid accompaniment. Since the death of Nimbus’s founder, Shura Gehrman, the label seems to be laying off a little on the swamp of echo-reverb it adds to older recordings. These tracks all have just enough reverb to make the performances sound lifelike and less two-dimensional than they did in their original release (on EMI). Despite the fact that the booklet fails to give the first names of any of the conductors, this set is highly recommended.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Charles GOUNOD (1818 – 1893)
Faust
1. Salut! Demeure chaste et pure² [5:01]
Georges BIZET (1837 – 1875)
Les Pecheurs de perles
2. Au fond du temple saint ¹² [4:40]
Carmen
3. La fleur que tu m’avais jetée² [4:08]
Giacomo MEYERBEER (1791 – 1864)
L’Africaine
4. O Paradiso!² [3:34]
Giuseppe VERDI (1813 – 1901)
Don Carlo
5. Io l’ho perduta!¹² [10:30]
Rigoletto
6. Cortigiani, vil razza dannata¹ [4:26]
Il trovatore
7. Il balen del suo sorriso¹ [3:14]
La forza del destino
8. Solenne in quest’ora¹² [4:15]
Un ballo in maschera
9. Eri tu¹ [4:15]
Otello
10. Credo in un Dio crudel¹ [4:45]
11. Si, pel ciel¹² [4:29]
Pietro MASCAGNI (1863 – 1945)
Cavalleria rusticana
12. Il cavallo scalpita¹ [2:44]
13. Mama, quell vino è generoso² [3:58]
Ruggiero LEONCAVALLO (1858 – 1919)
Pagliacci
14. Si può? Si Può?¹ [4:57]
15. Vesti la giubba² [4:00]
Giacomo PUCCINI (1858 – 1924)
La bohème
16. Che gelida manina² [5:11]
17. O mimi, tu più non torni¹² [4:14]
Jussi Björling (tenor)², Robert Merrill (baritone)¹, RCA Victor Orchestra/Renato Cellini (1, 2, 4, 5, 8, 11, 15, 16, 17); Arthur Fiedler (6, 7, 9, 10, 12, 14); Swedish Radio Orchestra/Nils Grevillius (3; 13)
rec. New York, November 1949 (6, 7, 9, 10 12, 14); November 1950 (5); January 1951 (2, 8, 11, 16, 17); March 1951 (1, 4, 15); Stockholm, September 1950 (3, 13)
NIMBUS NI 7945 [78:31]

This disc is a gem.


There are few recordings of the same vintage – or indeed from any period of recorded history – that have been so frequently issued and reissued than the five legendary duets that Björling and Merrill set down in 1950-51. One can wonder if there is one single lover of great singing that doesn’t have a copy. I hope that there is still a market and that new generations will be able to discover gems from earlier times. These duets are among the most luminous of all. Björling and Merrill took part in the premiere of the new production of Don Carlo at the Metropolitan Opera on 6 November 1950, a performance that was televised. Less than a week later the same cast appeared in a radio broadcast, from which there exist excerpts issued on record. On 30 November RCA Victor and HMV in a joint effort recorded the long duet in a New York studio with Renato Cellini conducting. It was issued in Europe on HMV DB 21622 (78 rpm) and in the US on a 45 rpm disc (ERB-7027) and after that probably everyone – with the possible exception of Harald Henrysson, the curator of the Jussi Björling Museum – has lost count of the number of issues. Just a month later they were back in the studio and recorded four more duets, including the one from The Pearl Fishers, which has been one the most requested recordings ever since.

What is the secret of their popularity? The music of course, but with so many other recordings to choose from this is hardly the main reason. The quality of the recordings is no more than adequate for the period and the playing of the studio orchestra is professional but no more so than on other recordings. But the singing is special. Not only do the two voices blend so well, they are also clearly contrasted, which is especially obvious in Solenne in quest’ora from La forza del destino. Björling, who never sang Forza on stage, opens with hushed lyrical singing, far removed from some world-famous singers who try to break the sound-barrier, and then comes Merrill, who sang his role, he even recorded it with Thomas Schippers in the 1960s, and attacks the music with considerably more power. They recorded the Bohème duet a few years later in the complete recording with Beecham, who perhaps is more individual but whose slow tempo also makes it slightly turgid. Cellini has a more natural flow. Maybe the most interesting item is the Otello duet. The title role is the pinnacle for an Italianate tenor and Björling wanted to sing it but he wished to wait some years until his voice had darkened. It did, which can be heard on his later recordings, but before he was ready for the role death intervened, a fate that also fell upon Caruso a generation earlier. Neither of them reached the age of fifty. That Björling had the measure for some aspects of the role as early as 1951 is obvious from this duet, which actually is one of the more strenuous scenes in the opera. Merrill had recorded Iago’s Credo a year earlier – included here – and he returned to the aria for a later recital, recorded in Rome in 1956 in connection with the complete Rigoletto, where both singers participated.

Even in 1949 Merrill’s voice was one of the most beautiful and brilliant, surpassing even contemporaries like Warren, Gobbi and Bastianini, though falling short on interpretative depth. One can compare in detail his early readings with those from the mid-fifties and again – in Trovatore and Rigoletto – with complete recordings from the early sixties. The voice has not aged all that much but neither have the readings. He is no cipher dramatically but his readings are of the all-purpose kind that could without great loss be interchangeable between operas. Even so it is a special pleasure to listen to him for the supreme singing and these recordings with Arthur Fiedler are relative rarities in the reissue catalogues and therefore especially welcome.

This also goes for Björling’s recordings of roughly the same period. We find his aria recordings from the late thirties and early forties on sundry labels but these sides – there are also arias from Aida and La Gioconda from the same session as Che gelida manina and the two Tosca arias recorded with Grevillius at a session the week before the Carmen and Cavalleria arias – have been largely forgotten. This is a pity since they show Björling at the absolute peak of his powers, having honed them on numerous performances and recitals while still with the voice in mint condition.

If you haven’t got the duets, by all means buy the disc for them – they have rarely been challenged and never surpassed> however even if you do have them in threefold versions this disc remains a gem for the sake of the arias.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

A vibrant sense of identification and technical control at its most impressive.

If you’ve been following the Nimbus Milanov releases you’ll know that their earlier foray into her recorded legacy was a Milanov sings Verdi disc (see review). There, in all her opulent and passionate splendour, she proved herself a legendary heroine, a Verdian of unimpeachable, sometimes torrential expressive qualities. But it was the more thoughtful and delicately deployed moments in her singing that also linger in the mind – her absolute control of pianissimi, the sheer refinement of much of what she did. And that leads one to this latest Milanov disc of aria antiche, lieder, and national folk songs.

The recital starts with that old standby Caro mio ben. Note that the portamenti – always a feature of her art - are relatively discreet, the voice not over-scaled, the chest voice lightly deployed. It’s an imaginative, intelligent performance and contrasts quite firmly with that of many of her contemporaries in this repertoire. Schumann’s Widmung has the requisite urgency of utterance; her German is as ever excellent. Mondnacht is also well judged and she doesn’t do too much with it. The brace of Brahms songs is similarly accomplished, the lulling Wiegenlied especially. But it’s the Strauss songs that show her affinities best I think. Her vibrant sense of identification can be gauged best from Caecilie where the technical control is at its most impressive, though Zueignung is powerful in its own right.

The Yugoslav songs offer another avenue into appreciating Milanov. Some were composed by her brother, her accompanist for the bulk of these tracks, Bozidar Kunc. All are pleasurable. Bersa’s She Duš Dan has an unforced gravity and a near operatic intensity. And Kunc’s ?ežnja is full of urgent, almost florid romanticism, well suited to Milanov’s voice and sense of declamatory power. She brings affectionate refinement, scaled dynamics to The World is Empty. The Songs of Yugoslavia, songs arranged by Dr. Lujo Goranin, are accompanied by an anonymous pianist and violinist; the set was recorded in 1943 whereas everything else derives from sessions in 1955. Milanov’s portamento style is heard to good effect in these six songs. The Magyar influence is strong, tinged with Old Vienna in Gor ?ez jezero – beautifully controlled diminuendi from Milanov here – though elsewhere things are stylistically generic. In the main, though, romantic allure wins the day especially when performed so alluringly as here. There’s nothing in these songs as touching, or important, as the Czechoslovak songs Jarmila Novotna sang at around this time but that doesn’t lessen the impact of Milanov’s singing of them.

There’s residual hiss on the Yugoslav songs, as one would expect. Transfers are fine, the notes too and up to the expected standard.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International