At first I assumed
that the raison d’être
for this issue, a live recording from
the New York Metropolitan Opera in 1964,
was the Mimi of Renata Tebaldi. Not
so. Tebaldi was undoubtedly a great
Puccini soprano but she was not at her
best here and the Hungarian tenor Sándor
Kónya (who died two years ago)
as Rodolfo was the star of this show.
It is therefore appropriate that the
substantial bonus items on the second
disc are taken from a recital he gave
two years later. There are plenty of
recordings of La Bohème
available, and if there is good reason
to invest in these discs, then it would
surely be for his contribution.
Although I am increasingly
appreciative of the merits of live recording,
live operas have more drawbacks than
concerts. Stage noise and applause after
big arias I can accept but the audience
here was pretty intrusive, ruining Mimi’s
entry in Act I with wild applause and
suffering from a bad case of premature
ejaculation at the end of each act.
Furthermore there was more aural evidence
of consumption in the stalls than on
the stage. The recording is barely passable
for 1964, being quite variable in clarity
and balance, with some distortion evident,
particularly in Acts II and III. It
is also very one-dimensional (surely
it was in mono although the booklet
doesn’t confess), and light in the bass.
Perhaps none of this would matter if
the performance was really special but,
in my view, it falls well short of greatness.
Tebaldi is disappointing,
particularly in the first act when she
was not well caught by the microphones.
By contrast, Kónya was in excellent
voice throughout although his "Che
gelida manina" does not eclipse
Björling’s for Beecham. Tebaldi
improved as the night went on but paradoxically
as Mimi becomes more ill. Vocally they
peaked in the farewell at the end of
Act III and generally I warmed to this
performance more as it went on. The
other singers were adequate or better
but Fausto Cleva in the pit seems dull
to me.
Competition in this
field is considerable and Tebaldi’s
Mimi must surely be better heard on
other recordings (at least two of which
are available on Decca and Naxos). Beecham’s
recording is, for me, the reference
point in this work and there is nothing
here that comes close to that level
of inspiration. I would probably have
enjoyed this in the opera house on the
night (the audience certainly did) but
it wouldn’t do for repeated listening.
The bonus items mix
opera and lieder by several composers
and are worth hearing for the quality
of Sándor Kónya’s voice
and his heartfelt, musical singing.
Again, he transcends the recording,
which is rather worse than in the opera.
There is almost as much extraneous background
noise as on an average 78 (hard to believe
this was 1966), a complete dropout at
1’10" on track 14 and a fidgety
audience that seems to have been crowding
the performers. Otto Seyfert accompanies
well but the piano sounds like the one
we had at home in the 1960s. Kónya
was at his best in the operatic items
but, unfortunately, his Ständchen
from Schubert’s Schwanengesang
also sounds operatic and had me rushing
for an antidote (Peter Schreier). It
could also be said that Puccini accompanied
on the piano is the equivalent of low
alcohol lager.
Presentation is about
par for the course for a budget issue
with brief information about the opera
and lead singers. There is no libretto
or synopsis and no information about
this particular production. I won’t
be making shelf space for this set but
it’s not for room 101* either.
Patrick Waller
*
A reference to a British Comedy TV programme
hosted by Paul Merton where guests are
invited to discuss their worst nightmares
which are then deposited in Room 101
Orchestra and Chorus of the Metropolitan Opera/Fausto
Cleva