Your reaction to this will depend on your interest 
                in operatic performing history. If you don’t have a Carmen on 
                your shelves, then you will presumably want it sung in the original 
                French, preferably complete, in a manner approaching the French 
                style, and in modern sound. This 1957 mono recording catches the 
                voices well but gives the upper strings a papery brilliance and 
                the bass line is tubby. Orchestral climaxes are too backward to 
                have great impact. I wouldn’t let this put me off if I was getting 
                a great performance, but I am not so sure that I am. 
              
 
              
Opera in the vernacular has a long and sometimes 
                distinguished history. The first ever Carmen on disc was actually 
                in German (1908, with Emmy Destinn). A proper French Carmen followed 
                in 1912 while Italian Carmens were made in 1920, 1931 and 1933 
                (the latter with Aureliano Pertile). Further German versions were 
                made in 1942 (under Böhm with Elisabeth Höngen in the 
                title role) and 1961 (with Christa Ludwig under Horst Stein). 
                The first English (or maybe American) Carmen seems to date from 
                1946, recorded at the Hollywood Bowl under Stokowski. A performance 
                in Russian was recorded in 1952. 
              
 
              
In post-war Italy there were few non-Italian 
                operas in the repertoire at all; such as they were, they were 
                invariably sung in translation. Furthermore, they tended to be 
                sung as if they really were Italian operas, and a strong tradition 
                grew up of wrong-headed, verista, performances of Carmen, 
                Werther and Manon. But Italy has never had the equivalent of the 
                English National Opera in London or the Volksoper in Vienna where 
                everything is systematically done in the local language and I 
                am not aware of any major (or even minor) opera house in present-day 
                Italy which presents works in translation. The habit of singing 
                Massenet in the style of Puccini nevertheless remains. 
              
 
              
Opera in English has always maintained its position, 
                though many feel that the English National Opera’s policy is now 
                outdated. Others clearly disagree since opera in English has undergone 
                something of a revival on disc recently, and native English speakers 
                wanting Carmen in this form will find an excellent one on Chandos. 
                I am not aware of recordings being made in any other country today 
                of operas in translation (but as they would not be intended for 
                export, this doesn’t necessarily mean there are none) and I think 
                it unlikely that any Italian opera lover would now wish to hear 
                non-Italian works in his own language; any interest aroused by 
                the present disc would regard the singers. 
              
 
              
Certainly, admirers of Franco Corelli around 
                the world will be pleased to have this. As the booklet points 
                out, his Don José was something of a reference point in 
                the post-war scene. He sang the role for the first time at Spoleto 
                in 1951 and gave performances every year till 1962, thereafter 
                repeating it most years until his final run at the Arena di Verona 
                in 1975. He made two commercial recordings, the first under Karajan 
                in 1963 with Leontyne Price, Mirella Freni and Robert Merrill, 
                the second under Maazel in 1970 with Anna Moffo, Helen Donath 
                and Piero Cappuccilli. What the booklet doesn’t mention is that 
                it was not a performance that appealed much to Francophones, with 
                its poor French and hell-for-leather verismo style. Still, 
                the Karajan Carmen was a famous affair in its way, albeit not 
                quite Bizet’s way. The second set had, some thought, better French 
                and the original dialogue (spoken by actors) in place of the recitatives 
                (which are not Bizet’s own). A television version was made by 
                the RAI in 1956 under Nino Sanzogno with Belen Amperan as Carmen, 
                and Bongiovanni have put out two "unofficial" versions 
                (I have no information about the sound quality); a 1961 performance 
                from the Arena di Verona, sung in Italian with Simionato, Scotto 
                and Bastianini, is conducted by Molinari-Pradelli, while one of 
                his last performances, from Macerata in 1974, has Grace Bumbry 
                as Carmen and De Fabritiis as conductor. Those who like an Italianate 
                Don José might find some point in hearing Corelli sing 
                in his own language. 
              
 
              
It certainly is impressive on its own terms, 
                a glorious flood of generous tone. There is also a tendency to 
                attack notes from below and a heavy recourse to portamento. But 
                there you are, if you don’t mind Bizet being treated like Mascagni 
                you’ll just bathe in it all, and the point of the disc is for 
                voice-fanciers rather than Bizet admirers. 
              
 
              
So what of the others, little-known outside Italy? 
                Pia Tassinari was born in 1909 and was the wife of the tenor Ferruccio 
                Tagliavini. Originally a soprano, she turned to mezzo roles in 
                1952. She sang Carmen frequently and closed her career with the 
                role in America in 1962. She was noted for her powerful singing 
                of verismo roles and this is a smoulderingly passionate 
                Carmen from the start; reckless in her chesty tones and not always 
                perfect of intonation, it cannot be said she finds any great variety 
                of expression. It’s all hammer and tongs. I suggest that her recording 
                of the role of Rosa Mamai in Cilea’s L’Arlesiana, also on Warner 
                Fonit, is a better reminder of her art. 
              
 
              
Gian Giacomo Guelfi did some good things, his 
                Scarpia on the Basile Tosca for instance, but barking away at 
                Escamillo is less of a good idea. Margherita Benetti, of whom 
                little seems to be known except that she cropped up on these Cetra 
                sets from time to time, has a solid voice, strongly projected, 
                but wearing in its unvaried over-insistence. Hardly right for 
                Micaëla. 
              
 
              
All this is rather emphasised by the fact that 
                Basile, unlike the singers, does realise that he is conducting 
                French music not Italian, producing a lean, classical reading 
                that could have been worth hearing with a different set of principals. 
                The orchestral preludes and interludes are perhaps the most enjoyable 
                parts of the disc. Any attempt to impose another style of singing 
                would probably have been vain and he just concentrates on holding 
                things together when the singers enter. 
              
 
              
Not a disc for a general recommendation, then. 
                Corelli fans will want it, and so may opera lovers who fancy a 
                snapshot of how Carmen used to be performed in Italy. 
              
 
              
Christopher Howell