This is one of a series 
                of four 2-CD sets which the RCA Red 
                Seal label is dedicating to Montserrat 
                Caballé. I shall be reviewing 
                the others in due course. The recordings 
                of this artist have been a part of our 
                lives for a good while now, yet dedicated 
                collectors’ mouths will be watering, 
                for this is not just a reassembling 
                of well-known RCA material – highlights 
                from complete opera recordings and so 
                on – it is made up from the LPs she 
                made in Spain for Vergara at the outset 
                of her career and for Columbia about 
                a decade later. Though her many fans 
                will no doubt have sought all these 
                out, it is marvellous to have it all 
                gathered together on CD, for it represents 
                the great Spanish diva at her absolute 
                prime. 
              
 
              
But I have a 
                severe criticism to make, and since 
                it regards all four volumes I shall 
                say it once to avoid repeating 
                myself every time. The presentation 
                is disgracefully shoddy. It’s not just 
                the old story that we get a potted biography 
                of the singer that is the same in each 
                volume and brief notes on the programme 
                of each particular album that are richer 
                in hyperbole than in content – we’re 
                used to this by now (though why should 
                we be?). It’s not even a question of 
                there being no texts or translations, 
                though that’s bad enough (you can pull 
                down texts of the arias on this set 
                from the Internet, but you’d be lucky 
                to find texts or translations there 
                of the rarer Spanish material contained 
                in some of the other albums). The thing 
                that really makes me see red is that 
                the enterprise has evidently fallen 
                into the hands of somebody for whom 
                the singer is everything, so who cares 
                if titles and conductors’ and pianists’ 
                and even composers’ names are spelt 
                wrong, not just here and there but systematically 
                all through. So we get "L’Elesir 
                d’amore" (instead of "Elisir"), 
                the last of the Falla 7 Canciones is 
                called "Tolo" not "Polo", 
                then we have "Caro" (instead 
                of Carlo) Felice Cillario, Anton "Guadano" 
                (instead of Guadagno), "Mano" 
                (instead of Manno) Wolf Ferrari and 
                even Frederico "Monpou" (instead 
                of Mompou; this is correct on the front 
                cover but consistently wrong elsewhere). 
                Most incredibly of all, the romantic 
                verismo opera "Louise" 
                is attributed to the baroque composer 
                Marc-Antoine Charpentier! And, if you’re 
                going to capitalise surnames, then it’s 
                Giuseppe DI STEFANO not "Giuseppe 
                di STEFANO". In Italian a "Di" 
                or a "De", unlike the German 
                "von", is an integral part 
                of the surname, it has a capital letter 
                and you look him up in the encyclopedia 
                under D not S. The timings of the discs 
                are not given. "Reissue concept 
                and executive production: Olivier Cochet", 
                it says, and I hope he’s proud of it. 
                When I think of the labours of love 
                with which some shoe-string companies 
                present reissued material, all this 
                from a major like BMG is pretty depressing, 
                and surprising considering that they 
                provided full documentation for their 
                "Horowitz Rediscovered" and 
                "Richter Rediscovered" albums, 
                so what has gone wrong here? They’ll 
                say they can’t afford to do any better 
                because classical music doesn’t sell. 
                I say that nothing sells if you don’t 
                invest in it properly. 
              
 
              
Well, now I’ve got 
                that off my chest I can get down to 
                the truly remarkable singing that is 
                to be heard here. In some ways the earliest 
                records are the most beautiful of all, 
                the voice already showing that steadiness 
                and control which was to keep it in 
                trim for so many years to follow but 
                with a sense of freshness, as if the 
                singer herself is marvelling in its 
                beauty. She was also already a notable 
                stylist, distinguishing carefully between 
                the classically spun lines of Donizetti, 
                the rougher-hewn Verdi (but she is breathtakingly 
                tender in the Otello extract) and finding 
                toughness as well as sweetness in Puccini. 
                The most original interpretation is 
                that of "Depuis le jour". 
                Alas, she makes no apparent attempt 
                to pronounce French properly, even changing 
                the meaning of the opening phrase – 
                "Des puis, les jours ... – but 
                she is surprisingly and convincingly 
                robust with the music, reminding us 
                that this was the French equivalent 
                of "verismo". 
              
 
              
By 1976 there is just 
                a hint that the freshness has been lost, 
                to be replaced by all-purpose operatic 
                blasting, albeit of a very superior 
                kind. Perhaps the effect is due to the 
                fact that her chosen programme consists 
                wholly of pieces that require maximum 
                heft all through, and she certainly 
                rides the war-horses magnificently. 
                More of her famed "dolcezza" 
                is to be heard in the 1974 sessions. 
                Does she sometimes swoon too much? The 
                test case would be "Arrigo! Ah 
                parli a un core", and I would say 
                that criticism is disarmed by the sheer 
                control of it all. The high B and the 
                following cadenza are the stuff of which 
                legends are made, and I should add that 
                we get more of the words from Caballé 
                than we did from Sutherland in her swooning 
                moments. All things considered, Caballé 
                remains one of the more unmannered and 
                musicianly of the easily recognised 
                singers. 
              
 
              
Golden Agers will have 
                it that the art of singing died long 
                ago. I submit that any one of these 
                performances, if transferred to scratchy 
                78s, would be heard with wonder, and 
                the Golden Age of Singing, if there 
                was one, is proved to have lasted at 
                least as close to our own days as the 
                prime years of Montserrat Caballé. 
              
 
              
Christopher Howell 
                
              
  
              
MONTSERRAT 
                CABALLÉ: Grandes héroïnes 
                lyriques  
              
Montserrat 
                CABALLÉ en récital: Recital 
                "Los Encores"   
              
Montserrat 
                CABALLÉ EN DUO - Duos de Amor 
                 
              
Montserrat 
                CABALLÉ: Récital espagnol