This early LP recording
from the Italian Cetra label had not hitherto crossed my path,
although a somewhat later Aïda from the same company,
featuring the young Franco Corelli as Radamès is better known.
Hi-fi sound was never a priority with these recordings but they
were valuable additions to the catalogue even so for making
available many lesser known operas and for recording many fine
Italian singers of the era that the major companies for various
reasons overlooked.
The present Aïda
offers several pleasant surprises, one of them being the
opportunity to hear the legendary conductor Vittorio Gui in
repertoire not normally associated with him. To the record-buying
public he is mainly known as a superb Rossini and Mozart conductor,
working for many years at Glyndebourne with productions like
La Cenerentola, Il barbiere di Siviglia and Le
nozze di Figaro, all of them preserved on highly regarded
EMI recordings. Maybe one can detect a lightness of touch in
his conducting more related to earlier periods than late Verdi
but, being a man of the theatre, he never underplays the drama
but lets it unfold naturally and without unnecessary lingering
over detail. The dated sound is a problem with a work like Aïda,
which calls for full frequency range and dynamics and stereo.
There is no denying that the more spectacular scenes, in which
Aïda abounds, fail to make the impact of later recordings,
but it should be remembered that there are also several scenes
of an intimate character with transparent, almost chamber music
scoring, and they suffer less. The prelude has thin violin sound
but when the cellos take over the proceedings they are full
and sonorous. The nocturnal atmosphere of the act 3 prelude,
with its impressionistic orientalisms, is also finely delineated.
The choral singing is distinguished, e.g. in the Priests’ chorus
in the first act (CD1 track 10). The second act finale, the
Triumphal Scene, gets off to a lethargic start, Gloria all’Egitto,
ad Iside (CD1 track 20) being majestic but, through the
measured tempo, short on triumph and glory. The march proper
has more spring in its step and the dance (track 22) whizzes
past like a whirlwind. As so often with these 50+ recordings
one gets used to the sound quality and no one needs to hesitate
on sonic grounds. Prospective buyers should though be aware
that there is some distortion at fortissimo passages; the Cetra
microphone(s) being over-powered by the strong voices.
I suppose that most
collectors interested in these vintage recordings buy them first
and foremost for the solo singing. Of the many Cetra operas
I have come across over the years, quite a few have had blemishes.
What about this one? Browsing through the cast-list one finds
a couple of well-known names and some not-so-well-known. Possibly
still singing (!) is the Amonasro, Rolando Panerai, at least
he sang Gianni Schicchi in Oslo a year or two ago. Born
in 1924 he was at the beginning of his career when this recording
was made. He had his debut in 1947 and first appeared at La
Scala in 1951. Amonasro is not one of opera’s biggest parts:
he appears briefly in the triumphal scene of act 2 and then
in the Nile scene of act 3, but he must possess a big dramatic
voice. The Nile scene requires a lot of vehement acting and
singing from him. He is also allotted some of the most beautiful
pages in the whole Aïda score (CD1 track 25), Quest’assisa
ch’io vesto vi dica, where Ma tu, Re, tu signore possente
can be a real show-stopper. Here Panerai sings the lines with
fine legato and rounded tone. In the Nile scene duet with Aida
(CD2 track 5 – 7) he is sometimes over-emphatic and distorts
the musical line, the flow of the music. However this is undoubtedly
a very involved performance and his denunciation of Aida, Non
sei mia figlia, is almost unbearably intense. A few phrases
later, he is noble and fatherly in Pensa che un popolo vinto
straziato. If this was his debut recording, it was a fine
start to a distinguished career.
The Amneris, Giulietta
Simionato, was already a well-established singer, having just
turned 40 and gradually taking over the role of leading mezzo-soprano
from Ebe Stignani. She has the grand manners of her predecessor
and is regal in the Amneris–Aïda scene at the beginning act
2. Act 3 finds her slightly fluttery and unusually thin-voiced
but she is magnificent in the last act duet with Radamès. After
Cossotto’s retirement high-dramatic mezzo singing of this calibre
disappeared from the scene. Simionato repeated this role for
Karajan in the late 1950s and it was through this recording
that I learnt this opera at my local library. She was still
singing with great intensity but she must yield to her younger
self in this Gui recording.
Ramphis is sung
by Giulio Neri, who had a rather short career; he died at an
early age. He was equipped with big, sonorous, evenly produced
true bass voice with a natural warmth. His is the very first
voice we hear after the prelude and this is impressive singing
in the Pinza mould. From a later generation you may be reminded
of Bonaldo Giaiotti. He is even more sonorous at the end of
the first act (CD1 tracks 12-13) and there is reason to regret
that the role isn’t bigger. Fortunately he recorded quite extensively
for Cetra: the Grand Inquisitor in Don Carlos, an imposing
Alvise in La Gioconda (with Callas), Baldassare in La
Favorita, the title part in Boito’s Mefistofeles
and Ramphis once more in the Corelli recording.
The other bass role,
The King (Il Re) is sung by Antonio Massaria, a singer unknown
to me, who is black-voiced and slightly throaty. Su! del
Nilo al sacro lido (CD1 track 7) is sung with great authority.
The Messenger’s few lines are well delivered by the fresh-voiced
Salvatore Di Tommaso, a good comprimario tenor, appearing on
several Cetra operas. He is, for example, a fine Beppe on the
Pagliacci recording.
Mentioning the soloists
in this order may imply that the main protagonists, Aïda herself
and Radamès, are not in the same league. Well, that was my first
thought when I browsed the cast list. Here was a little recorded
soprano I only knew by name. The tenor I knew fairly well as
a wooden and mainly unappealing Pollione in Callas’s Norma
and a brave but hardly subtle Arnold in Guglielmo Tell,
also on Cetra. But here is a first class surprise; Filippeschi
turns out to be, on this hearing, a real spinto tenor with a
bright, penetrating, Martinelli-like voice, i.e. a true tenor
with not a hint of baritonal timbre. He produces strong, heroic
singing with a good deal of musical phrasing and toning down
of the voice – he can even sing a good pianissimo. Compared
to Del Monaco’s worst antics he is a wonder of subtlety. Celeste
Aïda ends on a brilliant, powerful, long-held last note.
There is no attempt at shading down as Verdi wants it, but there
are many more famous names who are just as disobedient. Generally
he is a much more sensitive singer than I had expected. This
also goes for the act 3 duet with Aïda, again with lots of glow
and shining high notes, combined with sensitivity to the text.
Radamès’ desperation when realizing that he has been betrayed,
Tu, Amonasro! ... tu, il Re? (CD2 track 11) is intensely
palpable. Since the whole opera was recorded in one day, possibly
as a real performance, although in the studio, it also shows
his stamina. Even if this is not the most subtle tenor singing
imaginable it is very much alive and thrilling (the duet with
Amneris in the last act). He sings with dignity and great feeling
in the tomb-scene. In O terra, addio (CD2 track 20) he
is obviously so overcome by the tragic situation that for a
second he loses control of his voice, but makes amends with
a couple of well-judged pianissimos.
And the Aïda? Initially
Caterina Mancini sounds shrill, but that might be nervousness,
for in Ritorna vincitor (CD1 track 8) she is much steadier
and firm and she is good at expressing Aida’s desperation. She
sings well in the second half of the aria, which of course is
a prayer, especially from Numi, pietà, where she ends
on a finely shaded down fammi morir! The Nile aria (CD2
tracks 3-4) is very good indeed and the start of O patria
mia (track 4) is beautifully sung with fine legato. In the
duet with Amonasro she gradually “drains” her voice and by the
time Radamès appears her despair is so great that the voice
is almost dried out. The tomb-scene is sung with great sensitivity.
She can’t quite compete with Tebaldi or Leontyne Price when
it comes to vocal glory, but she has much to offer on her own
terms. As a whole I warmed to her performance and I will certainly
return to it when off reviewing duties.
As always Warner
Fonit provide a booklet, adorned by the original LP box cover
and with photos of Verdi and his librettist Ghislanzoni, the
conductor Vittorio Gui plus several early interpreters of the
main roles. There is a synopsis in English and full texts but
no translations. There are a few unimportant cuts in the score.
One thing that has to be applauded is the numerous cues: 27
on CD1 and 20 on CD2. Not all companies are as generous as that.
As a general recommendation for a first choice recording of
Aïda this version has to give way to several others:
Karajan and Solti (both on Decca), Muti (EMI) and maybe Abbado
(DG) but as an inexpensive complement to any of these, I am
sure many opera lovers will find a lot to relish in the Cetra
recording.
Göran Forsling
Antonio Massaria (bass) – Il Re; Giulietta Simionato (mezzo) – Amneris;
Caterina Mancini (soprano) – Aïda; Mario Filippeschi (tenor) – Radamès;
Giulio Neri (bass) – Ramphis; Rolando Panerai (baritone) – Amonasro; Salvatore
Di Tommaso (tenor) – Un messaggero. 
