Robert 
                J Farr, in his MusicWeb review of this product, contextualises 
                Giannini perfectly and I cannot improve on this (http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Aug03/Giannini.htm). 
                Collectors can count themselves lucky to have this historical 
                document at their disposal so cheaply: it acts as a valuable (possibly 
                invaluable) partner to Preiser’s Giannini album (89044) which 
                concentrates on her recorded legacy (HMV, from 1928 to 1932). 
                 
              
 
              
As 
                a ‘composite’ recital (from three separate broadcasts), the present 
                Naxos programme works well if one listens straight through. The 
                two excerpts from Acts 1 and 4 of Verdi’s La forza del destino 
                (from a broadcast on September 19th, 1943) which kick 
                things off reveal much of Giannini’s characteristics. With the 
                very opening lines (‘Son giunta’), she proclaims, delineates and 
                owns her own territory: her resolution is such that nobody would 
                argue from that moment on. This is terrifically confident singing, 
                the ‘steel’ in the voice used to telling effect. ‘Pace, pace mio 
                dio’ includes much tenderness (and her tuning is excellent, not 
                always the case in this aria). In fact, all of her Verdi is impressive. 
                The Aida excerpt (‘Ritorna vincitor!’) displays more of 
                her steely determination. Although these are just excerpts, it 
                is remarkably easy to feel as if one is slipping in and out of 
                a complete traversal of the role, such is her identification with 
                the heroine.  
              
The 
                Thomas and Ponchielli excerpts (LAPO/Cimini) represent the highlights 
                of the disc. Ambroise Thomas wrote very beautiful music, and his 
                tendresse is evident throughout (special mention to the 
                sweetly chirping woodwind here). Giannini’s velvet legato is most 
                affecting, her inflections seeming to drag the listener in. The 
                Gioconda excerpt is sung with real conviction (the accompaniment, 
                however, is more workaday). Be warned, however: Giannini could 
                appear shrill and harsh at full pelt: the climax of this Ponchielli 
                is uncomfortable (track 4, around three minutes in).  
              
 
              
Separating 
                the dramatic rendition of ‘Ritorna vincitor!’ from Puccini’s ‘Vissi 
                d’arte’ are two popular ballads, The Rosary and I love 
                you truly. Dispensable both, to my Xenakis-saturated ears, 
                but they had their day and should certainly be heard as part of 
                the period aura. Unfortunately, after the high emotion of ‘Ritorna’, 
                the sudden, sugary arrival of The Rosary is almost comical. 
                Paul Campion’s accompanying notes tell us that this piece ‘achieved 
                immense popularity in the plush drawing-rooms and concert halls 
                of the Edwardian age’ but today it seems (to this reviewer at 
                least) difficult to take seriously. I love you truly is 
                similarly afflicted, and sandwiching these two between Verdi and 
                Puccini does nobody any favours at all.  
              
 
              
Evidently 
                Giannini is more at home in Vissi d’arte, Tosca’s Act 2 
                tender hymn to art which really does emerge with real depth on 
                this occasion.  
              
 
              
Fascinating 
                to have the extended excerpts from Cavalleria rusticana. 
                The orchestra here sounds completely at home, and there is a real 
                feel of the grease paint about this account. It seems strange 
                to close the disc with an orchestral excerpt (the famous ‘Intermezzo’), 
                but perhaps it was needed to make up the playing time (50 minutes 
                is short for Naxos).  
              
 
              
As 
                a ‘by the way’, apparently Giannini sang Kundry (Parsifal) 
                under the baton of Pierre Monteux in the 1940s. Now that would 
                have been worth hearing!.  
              
 
              
This 
                disc is definitely worth the small outlay. With the exception 
                of some discomfort at climaxes, sound is perfectly acceptable 
                given the sources. Do hear the Presier disc, also. There is some 
                overlap: ‘Son Giunta’, ‘Pace, pace’ (conducted Barbirolli, 1928), 
                and ‘Ritorna vincitor!’ (Sabajno, 1928) are all there, too, but 
                plenty of other goodies, including, on the Puccini side of the 
                balance sheet, a touching ‘Un bel di vedremo’ (Butterfly, 
                cond. Schmalschtich, 1928) to complement the ‘Vissi d’arte’ (Tosca) 
                here. It is true they sound more studio-bound than these broadcasts, 
                but there are plenty of insights to be gleaned from both discs. 
                 
              
 
              
Colin 
                Clarke 
              
see also review by Robert 
                J Farr