One of the better of
the Warner Fonit reissues, this Tosca
essentially works because of the experienced
baton of Francesco Molinari-Pradelli,
who paces the drama with an unfailingly
natural instinct. Tempi are neither
unnecessarily protracted nor manic.
The Turin Radio Orchestra responds with
aplomb, keeping scrappiness to a minimum
(no easy matter in this piece). There
is no better exemplar of this than the
very beginning, with its well-defined
accents; but also hear how Molinari-Pradelli’s
tempo for ‘Recondita armonia’ precludes
sentimentality while giving space for
the pure, lyrical vocal line. Similarly,
in Act II Molinari-Pradelli is as at
home in the tender accompaniment to
‘Vissi d’arte’ as in the drama of the
stabbing. Perhaps his real achievement,
though, is to invoke a sense of the
theatre in the work’s climactic final
moments (especially when Tosca realises
that Cavaradossi is really dead).
Adriana Guerrini is
Floria Tosca. Guerrini sang often in
provincial Sicilian towns in the late
thirties, later rising to fame in post-War
Naples. There is a version of Manon
Lescaut in which she appears with
Gigli that dates from circa 1952. Although
mainly known for Verdi and Puccini roles,
she did sing a Marschallin at La Scala.
As Tosca, she also appeared with Corelli
at Catania in 1954, not too long after
the present recording was made. Her
voice is mobile, yet also capable of
great tenderness (the way she creeps
into ‘Vissi d’arte’ is memorable). There
is an edge in the higher regions that
can become tiring to listen to, but
her identification with this part is
very convincing. However, by the time
Act III Scene 3 comes, it is obvious
that this is not a voice to listen to
every day as it is just not comfortable
on the ear.
Her Cavaradossi is
Gianni Poggi, a singer who has divided
opinion. It is certainly true that he
is no great actor through the voice
– ‘E lucevan le stelle’ is nicely phrased
(if not coloured), yet one would be
hard-pressed to believe that this is
a man giving in to despair. The problem
stems from the fact that he appears
unnecessarily narcissistic, luxuriating
in his voice without making real contact
with the ongoing dramatic situation.
He does, however, scream convincingly
when under torture and his declarations
of love in Act I carry some weight.
The vital role of Scarpia
is taken by Paolo Silveri, in commanding
form. His voice is focused (‘Tosca è
un buon falco! …’) and he shows during
the course of the second act just how
big his instrument can be. Not only
that, he possesses a wide variety of
utterance. Angelotti (Jan Emanuel) has
a fine grasp of his role – we hear the
shake in his voice in the opening scene
as one of fear, not ill-controlled vibrato.
Minor roles are well-assigned.
Giulio Biellesi’s Jailer in particular
is focused and warm of tone. The recording
generally stands up to Puccini’s major
climaxes, with the exception of some
distortion just prior to the ‘Trionfal’
octaves of Tosca and Cavaradossi. Occasional
spot-lighting can be distracting – the
too-closely miked trumpets immediately
following this passage being a case
in point.
This is not the only
Tosca from Warner Fonit – Arturo
Basile’s version is on 8573-87479-2.
But it should, I believe, be heard,
especially at the price. None of the
singers’ flaws is sufficient to divert
attention from Molinari-Pradelli’s considered
yet exciting conception. As usual, text
is supplied in Italian only, with the
briefest of notes and no synopsis.
Colin Clarke
